Total pages in book: 142
Estimated words: 135522 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 678(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 452(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135522 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 678(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 452(@300wpm)
How Cole and I apparently have a history with each other.
Walking alongside him as we are, I have an even harder time believing that the strange pair of us were even close to resembling playmates. How is that even possible? Cole whistles while he walks along the path. His every step radiates with confidence. His smile is a gift he gives to the sky, to the trees, to every passing car on the street. Everyone is his best friend. Who has time for all of that boundless energy? I don’t. Maybe my mom had it wrong.
“So, how about—” starts Cole.
“Did we used to be friends?” I blurt out instead.
Cole turns to me. “Friends?”
I wince. I can only take so much bottled-up anxiety before it starts spilling out of my mouth. “Sorry. That isn’t … it’s not one of the questions I had. I just … My mom said something last night, and … it doesn’t ring a bell.”
“You don’t remember?”
I stop and look at him, surprised. “You do remember?”
“Of course.” His face lights up. “We would hang out in either one of our backyards while our moms day-drank and talked shit about people around town. Or at least I assume that’s what they’d do. Who knows what they really talked about.” Cole chuckles. He turns to me. “You really don’t remember at all?”
I somehow remember the mint green dress my kindergarten teacher always wore—maybe some odd association I formed and can’t forget—but nothing comes to mind about spending any time with Cole as kids. We had no mutual friends in school. We had no classes together, either. Nothing in common except for us being human beings, and even that’s debatable where I’m concerned.
“No,” I finally say. “Not a thing.”
Something in Cole’s eyes deflate.
I think he’s disappointed that I can’t remember.
I’m just about to apologize when he quickly brushes it off. “Y’know what? Don’t worry about it. It was a long time ago. I don’t remember a whole lot myself.”
I get the strong suspicion he’s playing off just how much he remembers. I bet it’s a lot. Why can’t I remember anything …?
“I mean, we were basically begrudgingly pushed at each other because our moms were besties,” he says. “That’s the gist I know.”
I snap my eyes to him again. “They were besties?”
“Used to be, apparently.” Cole tenses up slightly. “Um … don’t read too much into that. I don’t know anything else. We’re getting to know each other now, right? That’s what counts.”
“Okay,” I mutter absently as Porridge rushes up to the base of a tree and begins to investigate it, sniffing around. We stop to let her explore. I decide I’m ready to start the interview—the actual interview. “So, um, the day … the day that you saved my life …”
“Yesterday.”
“Right. Yesterday. Um … What would you say was going on … uh … wait, no. What would you say went through your head when you, uh, when you saw me and … ugh, this is worded so much better in my notebook at home … well, actually, you must’ve seen the picture frames falling first, and … and that’s what made you—”
“It was your face I saw first, actually.”
I look at him. “Really?”
“Yep.” He peers back at me. “I was just minding my business, enjoying the festival with Nan … and there you stood, right across the street. I caught sight of you and …” He gazes off with a shrug. “I was instantly pulled back, thinking about all the times I passed you by in the halls of Spruce High, how many times I didn’t say hello … and how I should’ve said hello.”
Is Cole being funny? None of this makes sense. “What do you mean? We didn’t know each other in school.”
“We might not have been close,” agrees Cole, “but it doesn’t mean I didn’t know who you were. Doesn’t mean I wasn’t curious about you. All the time,” he adds in a mumble, then chuckles. When he chuckles, his eyes sparkle in the sunlight. I’m mesmerized as I listen to him. He smirks. “I’m observant, too, y’know. Good thing I was observant yesterday, otherwise I wouldn’t have seen you and charged across the street to do what I did.”
I find all of this information too much. I don’t even know how to respond. What to ask next. What to think.
“By the way,” he goes on, “did you ever notice me back then?”
Porridge stops sniffing at once and looks up at me, as if she’s also somehow interested in my answer.
“Of course,” I tell him absently. “Everyone noticed you.”
“Really? I wasn’t sure. You were always kind of …” Cole makes a gesture with his hands around his head, the leash wiggling in his grip. “… trapped up here all the time. That’s how it seemed to me. I think I was too intimidated to approach you.”