Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 131789 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131789 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
I let her ramble for a moment to buy time searching for a diplomatic answer. The last thing I want to do is unpack this whole situation with Casey. It’s bad enough that RJ is ignoring me, if not also secretly engineering some way to have our parents’ marriage annulled.
“He doesn’t exactly keep me apprised of his dating life,” I reply. Which is mostly true. He wasn’t a chatty guy even before he became non-verbal. “I don’t know. I’m sure he’ll come around.” I shrug. “And I guess I am a little distracted. I’ve been thinking about my mom a lot lately.”
Also, not a lie. Memories of her come and go, these patterns of nostalgia.
“It’s the weirdest involuntary phantom pain,” I admit. “I’ll be sitting in class, and for no reason at all I’ll forget she died. And suddenly this immense relief will wash over me, like I’m waking up from a nightmare.”
We walk along the path, watching the dogs jump at falling leaves and bark at things moving in the trees.
“That happens to me too sometimes.” Casey picks a long weed and ties the stem in a series of tiny knots. “And then reality comes rushing back in and I remember the nightmare is all there is now.”
“You’ve been good for me,” I find myself blurting out. “You always manage to make me smile. Even when everything else is going to hell. At least when I’m with you, I feel better about myself.”
The dogs run up around Casey’s legs to nudge her for attention, which she lavishes on them while it occurs to me I didn’t mean to say any of that out loud. Now she probably thinks I’m a complete emotional train wreck. Excellent.
“Good.” Casey takes a stick out of Penny’s mouth and flings it down the path for the dogs to chase. “I think everyone needs someone to be that person. I’m glad I can be yours.” She elbows my ribs, tipping her head to smile at me. “You’re mine, too. Person, I mean.”
The dogs come galloping back to her. Both tugging at the stick to put it in Casey’s hand.
“I don’t know if I’ve said so in as many words,” she continues. “Since, you know…”
Prom.
We all have our own uncomfortable buzzwords.
The Accident.
Big, heavy syllables that sit in our mouths like stones.
“You put me back together. I don’t know where I’d be without your friendship.” She urges me to meet her gaze. “I mean that. I cherish it. And you.”
The dogs run ahead to chase the wind or some poor creature. A breeze curls Casey’s strawberry blonde hair around her face as she looks at me with these eyes that could melt glaciers. My gut gets the message before my brain does and it screams out at me that something’s coming, dumbass.
You better duck.
“We’ve gotten so close so quickly, you know?” Casey pulls the hair from her face and shyly tucks it behind her ear. “It’s weird how feelings can evolve out of nothing.”
A siren goes off in the furthest recesses of my mind, getting closer.
“I feel silly saying this. So please don’t laugh,” she punctuates with a quiet laugh. “But lately when we’re together, I can’t help wondering why you don’t kiss me.”
It arrives as a question. Like what happens to us when we die and why are we here? This enormous, unknowable thing. Fucking hell. If she only knew how close I am to hauling her off her feet and never letting go.
For months I’ve punished myself with this silent desire. And yes, I occasionally entertained the unlikely idea that she might find her way to wanting me too. But then I roundly dismissed the thought.
Casey stares at me with those big, trusting eyes so full of warmth and hope. Completely naïve to all the ways I’d manage to ruin her.
“Okay…” Redness blooms across her cheeks and she drops her embarrassed gaze to the ground. “This got awkward.”
This is my fault. I was careless. I should have taken greater care to maintain a buffer zone that would have prevented any confusion from bleeding through. But now I’m wrestling to put a stop to this, a ripple of panic traveling up my spine. No matter how badly I do want to kiss her, I can’t.
Because the consequences would be destructive and irreversible. No survivors.
“Case,” I start, then stop to clear my throat. “I want to be your friend. I just, ah, don’t think of you that way.”
“Really?” This time when she appraises me, I feel her suspicions slithering through her skull, picking up the debris of clues. “Because I feel like I’ve gotten to know you pretty well and it really seemed like maybe you’d thought about it, too.”
“Sorry, kiddo.”
God, I fucking hate myself.
“Well, now I know you’re full of it.” She’s got the nerve to spin around and poke a playful finger in my chest.