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)
“Hi there.”
Then Lawson barrels through the window next. “See? That wasn’t so hard.”
“Your friend’s cute,” she says, still eyeing me.
“I keep telling him that,” Lawson drawls. “But he’s no fun.”
“We could make it a party.” Window Girl shakes a handful of mini vodka bottles at me. “If Friend wants to join.”
“Friend does not,” I tell Lawson with a pointed glare.
“You said you were going out.”
“It was a short visit.”
He shrugs with an unapologetic smile because Lawson is never sorry.
It takes them no time to down a couple bottles and then start making out on Lawson’s bed across the room from mine. Breathy noises and the soft squeak of bedsprings greet my ears.
AMY: You still there, baby?
ME: Yeah, sorry. Lawson just walked in.
Window Girl is probably the prettiest townie in her school. I bet she’s popular and in love with life. She’ll make friends at a good state college and graduate with prospects of a decent job that will propel her to a comfortable if unremarkable life in the suburbs with a husband of average achievement. And sometimes, when she’s out drinking with the girls, she’ll see a handsome younger man give her a courtesy smile over a shot of tequila and she’ll remember the time she climbed through some hot rich boy’s window.
Lawson won’t remember her face by morning.
Window Girl glances at me over his shoulder when they unlock their mouths long enough to come up for air. Half her shirt is hiked up so the bottom of her bra is showing. Her hand reaches toward me.
AMY: You could ask for a different roommate.
ME: I know.
“Come here,” she says, watching me from under heavy-lidded eyes. “You don’t have to just watch.”
“No thanks,” I mumble.
And then I grab my shoes and leave.
Lawson is a weirdly unifying individual, in that he’s almost universally regarded as a living, breathing red flag. Most of the time he’s either being a selfish prick or dragging me into some bullshit I didn’t ask for.
The thing is, I know where it comes from. I’ve known Lawson since the third grade, and I can honestly say not many people would be even remotely functional dealing with what he’s been through with his family. His mother divorced his dad when he was little, then took off and left him with Satan. No exaggeration—his dad is the meanest, cruelest person I’ve ever met in real life. A few years back, an article came out about how more people die by suicide at Roman Kent’s company than a Chinese Apple factory. The guy is supervillain-levels of vindictive. And he seems to concentrate that evil energy squarely on his son.
So I guess, yeah, in a way I feel for Lawson. Who knows how I would have turned out if my family was a malevolent chaos circus. The bitch of it is, despite all the ways he’s gotten me in trouble over the years, the guy is loyal. He sticks up for his friends and never turns his back. If you’re getting your ass kicked, he’ll be there taking the beating with you.
As much as he’s a pain in the ass most of the time, I feel like somebody’s gotta stick beside him. Might as well be me.
But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to wring his neck half the time.
I get another text as I’m wandering along the path between the senior dorm and the pool house. It’s nearly pitch black, save for the dim orange footlights and occasional firefly hovering above the grass. I wish I was back in my room, watching mindless YouTube videos or playing a video game, but I’m not in the mood to witness another one of Lawson’s self-destructive episodes.
AMY: I miss you. Feels like we’ve barely talked all summer.
ME: Miss you too. You’ll see me soon.
As I pass the trail that leads to Sloane’s house on the edge of campus, I suddenly laugh out loud at how totally predictable it was she’d manage to find the fresh meat before the semester’s even started. Already sniffing around RJ as if she didn’t just dump Duke because she allegedly came to her senses about dating douchebags who treat her bad. Sloane is similar to Lawson in that she’s also her own worst enemy. The girl is a heat-seeking missile for the dipshit high school bad-boy types who will either break her heart or dick her over.
She’s a smart person, probably the cleverest I know, so I can’t for the life of me figure out why she lets herself get taken for the same scam every time.
But whatever. Not my problem. If she wants to set herself up for a fall, that’s her prerogative. We’ve been friends long enough that I know better than to believe she listens to anyone else. Even when they’re trying to stop her from making a huge mistake.