Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 47287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 189(@250wpm)___ 158(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 189(@250wpm)___ 158(@300wpm)
Cactus Face yawned against River’s skull and Winston flopped even more. River held out a hand and Cassidy tugged them upright. He didn’t let go immediately, but squeezed River’s hand. They squeezed back.
"Do you want some of this?" River asked, bringing out the weed and pipe. "It’s an indica-dominant hybrid."
"I don’t know what that means, but yes please."
They passed the pipe back and forth.
"You know what would be so good right now," Cassidy mused. "One of those huge popcorn tubs."
"Omigod!"
River darted out of the room and toward the kitchen slash cat supply area. But as they passed the front desk and the windows that looked out on the parking lot and the woods beyond, they saw a world inverted. The parking lot, usually black, was white. Snow was already deep on the ground and falling so heavily that night almost looked like day.
The fucking blizzard. In all the emotional chaos of the evening, they’d forgotten about Charlie’s warning.
They grabbed the popcorn from the kitchen and did a cursory supply check. They should be okay for a few days at least.
"The good news," River said when they reentered the cat room. They held up the popcorn.
"Oh, damn, you popcorn angel. I just realized you never told me about dropping off the others—how did people react? Wait, is there bad news?"
"Depends on your attitude and your plans, I suppose," River stalled. "There’s a blizzard. Which I forgot about. And I have no clue what time it is or how long we’ve been in here, but there’s already about a foot. How’s your truck in the snow?"
Cassidy’s eyes had widened at blizzard and he stood to go look for himself.
"Oh. Yup."
River held out the tub of popcorn and Cassidy bent and breathed in the smell. He took a handful of caramel corn and a handful of buttered popcorn and ate the two together.
"As good as you remember it?"
Cassidy moaned in the affirmative and desire tightened in River’s stomach.
They sat down on either side of the tub and ate handfuls of popcorn as they watched the snow fall.
"Maybe you should stay here," River offered. "Weed and snow and driving in the dark. Bad idea."
"Definitely," Cassidy agreed. "I’d need to wait an hour or so and by then the snow will probably be too deep."
"Okay, so it’s decided, then. You’ll stay."
Cassidy smiled slowly and River had the distinct sensation of having crossed a threshold, passed over into an after, thereby describing a before.
Or maybe they were just really stoned.
"I’ll stay."
"What are you doing for Christmas this year?" Cassidy asked.
Outside, the snow fell and fell. Inside, it was warm and cozy. They were lying on the floor of the cat room again, passing the pipe while the cats used them as furniture.
River snorted.
"That excited, huh?"
"I don’t see my parents anymore," River said. "But now that my brother moved back I’ll probably spend it with him, Wes, and Gus. That’s what I did last year. It’s relaxing and non-horrible, unlike Christmas with my parents used to be."
"What kind of horrible are your parents?" Cassidy asked.
River sighed.
"I know how lucky I am. So many people have it way worse."
"Meh, those people aren’t here and I care about you."
River allowed themself a moment to bask in that.
"My dad is mean. And kind of scary. It’s not what he does—although it’s also what he does—but this whole energy he gives off. It’s …"
They shivered.
"It’s hard to explain, but there’s something about him that always makes me feel like whatever I say or do might be ignored or it might make him say horrible, nasty, insulting things. Just the way he looks at me—looked at me—the scorn was palpable."
"Because of gender stuff, or how you dress, or?"
"Oh, I have never mentioned anything about gender to my parents."
River couldn’t even imagine what they’d have been on the receiving end of if their dad had ever known.
"A few years ago when I met Rye, I was living at home. Well, mostly. It was totally miserable so sometimes I’d sleep in my friend Tracy’s car. There was no way I could afford college and all I did was get high and kick rocks around empty parking lots with my friends. It was grim."
Nights so long and lonely they stayed up and watched the sun rise to convince themself there was still beauty and sense in the world. Scouring the internet for information about how they were feeling and what it meant. Finding support online that probably saved their life, but knowing those people were hundreds or thousands of miles away—too far for a hug, a hand squeeze, a midnight rescue.
"The way he looked at me, though. Like, he didn’t know what he knew, but I could tell he thought something was off. He knew Adam was gay and had no problem telling him what he thought about that. I guess he probably thought I was too. And whenever he’d look at me I could see this query in his eye, like he was trying to figure out what the precise thing was that made me a freak. I started dressing in baggy stuff to look kind of skater-y so that I could grow my hair out and he’d think it was a style choice."