Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 98909 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98909 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
The deli is full of people dressed like I am—pressed shirts and trousers, in spite of the summer heat. Leather shoes, and corporate ID’s on clips or lanyards. I don’t mind being a worker drone. It’s going to get me out of Darby for good.
Someone’s order is called, and the line shuffles forward. My phone buzzes in my pocket with a notification. I’m not going to check it. The line is not that long.
Okay, who am I kidding? I’m totally going to check it.
At first, I didn’t think it was a good idea to let Keaton text me this summer. I knew I’d hurt him. And while I’m not proud of it, it’s hard to express how deeply freaked out I was by a one-night trip to jail. For weeks afterward I couldn’t sleep. My brother had almost managed to blow up my entire life in a single weekend.
I felt stained, if not toxic. And I didn’t want to take anyone else down with me.
When my terror eventually began to wear off, it was too late. Keaton had stopped giving me the kicked-puppy face, and he was all jazzed up for his trip to Chile. I didn’t want to complicate his life, so I let him go.
Now I miss him terribly.
The phone in my pocket is yelling my name. Keaton is my big weakness, so I pull it out and open our favorite app. One of the first things I did after he left for Chile was to Google the places he was headed. And I learned that the waters where his expedition would travel have, according to National Geographic, “the worst weather in the world.”
Honestly, that scared me almost as much as a night in jail.
So in spite of the fact that each new message from Keaton is—obviously—proof of life and doesn’t really need to be speed-opened, I do it anyway. Because a message from him is still the highlight of my day.
Today I open up the app to find a photo of a calm sea and a purple sunrise. And, incredibly, a pod of dolphins variously breaching the surface of the water.
Day 47: We have calm seas, which is nice, but still no orcas. Last night at dinner I was thinking about you. Lots of things make me think of you, but this time it was lobsters. Remember that early text when I told you how lobsters have sex? I was sure you were going to block me just for being weird.
But since you’re still reading these messages, here’s something you probably don’t know about lobsters in Chile. They don’t have big claws! The claws are just not there where they should be. You see the legs, and then the antennae. And…no big hooked claws. Which means 1) they look more like bugs and 2) the lobster emoji is ALL WRONG down here.
I mean, my world is rocked.
Also, I still miss you. And I wonder what you’re doing right now.
Until the next update. --K
“Bailey? Bailey?”
My chin snaps up as I realize the guy behind the counter has been calling my name. “Thank you,” I say quickly, taking the bag and the molded paper tray with the drinks on it. I head back out the door and down the block to the office.
I haven’t been chatting up Keaton, because I promised myself I wouldn’t play with his emotions. But I feel the tug. It would be so easy to slide back into our familiar conversation. And into bed, of course. Some nights I miss him so badly that my chest aches. He’s my only regret.
The rest of my life feels so optimistic now. Like maybe I can have some of the things I never thought I deserved.
The lobby of Hayworth Harper is teeming. I wave my ID past the sensor, and the turnstile gate slides open. Every time it does that I feel irrationally happy. You belong here, it says.
There’s an elevator that’s just about to leave, so I hop inside as the doors begin to close. Everyone else on the elevator looks a little stiff, and I don’t realize why until a voice says, “Luke Bailey.”
I look up into Keaton Hayworth Jr.’s face, and realize that I’ve lunged into the elevator with the CEO. “Hello, sir. Good morning.”
“Isn’t it?” He chuckles. “I see you’ve made a run to the deli for Bo. After last night, he needed an egg sandwich, didn’t he?”
“There may be some truth to that, sir.”
He snickers. “Keaton likes those egg sandwiches, too. I think they might be the only thing he ever liked about Take Your Kid to Work Day. Have you heard from my son lately? I shouldn’t have Googled his expedition. It says that part of the Pacific has, and I quote…”
“The worst weather in the world?”
“You read that page too, huh?”
We both step aside to let a few people off the elevator. I pull my phone out of my pocket and open the app, blowing up the photo to cover the whole screen. “See? Smooth sailing today.”