Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 79382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
His face went just a little guarded at that. "What do you want to know?"
"Everything," I said honestly. "I want to know everything. I mean... I know you have had something dark happen in your life and I understand that it might not be..."
"You gonna shut it so I can tell you everything or what?" he asked, lips tipping up at one corner, but the motion didn't make it to his eyes.
"What?"
"Well, if you want to know all my dark and twisted, doodle-bug, you need to hush so I can give it to you."
"Doodle-bug?" I objected with a snort.
"You like it," he said, ducking his head a little. "In fact, you like all the pet names. You just don't want to admit it, snuggle-puss."
I laughed at that, shaking my head at him.
"Alright, I'll shut up. Give it to me."
Then he gave it to me.
TEN
Renny
No one got everything.
Everyone who needed to, got bits and pieces, got the Cliffsnotes version. That meant the guys in the club had a generalized idea of what I came from and what motivated me to be a dick at times. But they didn't get the ugly details.
Some things weren't meant for sharing.
But the fact of the matter was, shit changed in that kitchen a few hours before. Why? I wasn't sure. But after the argument with Mina, I had felt remorse for my usual dickishness.
I never felt remorse for it before.
I figured maybe that was a sign. What it was a sign of was a bit foggy, but as I thought shit through, I came to the conclusion that, at the very least, it was a sign to dig deeper into it.
But Mina had trust issues and if I wanted more from her, I had to give her more from me.
"My parents were always brilliant," I started, holding her tighter when she went to pull away, to put space between us. But that was the last goddamn thing I needed. As a whole, I tried to not even think about my upbringing, let alone dissect it. But it was time. "So much so that they were cold and clinical in their outlook on life, in their interactions with everyone. Scientists to the core, in a way."
"Smart, hm?" she asked. "You fell way, way far from that tree, huh?" she teased and I know she was just trying to lighten my mood.
I was smart as fuck and she knew it.
"They didn't believe in things like guilt and love and affection. How the fuck I was even conceived is a goddamn mystery. I half believe it involved test tubes because there's no way those two fucked. Anyway, I think the purpose of having me was purely clinical."
"They wanted to test different parenting theories on you," she guessed.
"In a way, yes. The problem was, they wanted to test them fucking all on me. Had they maybe tried some attachment parenting or French-style parenting on me and stuck with the method, maybe I wouldn't have gotten as fucked in the head as I did. But one night as a baby, I was made to cry it out and self-soothe. The next, I was coddled. The next, crying it out again. Then as I got older, they would test out the Marshmallow Experiment on me- see if I was a kid more into instant gratification with a small reward or one with self-restraint who could wait for the bigger payout later."
"Which were you?"
"I'd still take the mother fucking marshmallow now over the cookie later," I admitted with a humorless smile.
"What else?" she prompted when I went silent.
I shrugged. "They tested out negative reinforcement over positive. I was apparently more receptive to negative because that was the one they stuck with. There was hardly a day when I wasn't 'naughty', 'silly', 'bad', or 'stupid'. There was no malice in their words, mind you. They weren't programmed that way. They just knew that when they called me stupid, I worked harder. And when they called me bad, I cleaned up my mess or settled down. So when I did something bad, I got belittled, but when I did something good, figured out some kind of puzzle they threw at me, I got whatever small little token of approval they were capable of."
"What about as you got older?"
"That's where they had more fun with me in a way. I didn't play Monopoly or Life. My games were more like 'that man in the red hat is a bad guy, tell me why' variety. I was observant by nature and they worked to exploit that. I was taught to make snap judgements, to create chains out of small links. If I couldn't figure out why the half moon cuts on his forearms meant that he was a rapist, then there would be bare walls and cold floors in my future. I learned quick to not miss anything."