Total pages in book: 156
Estimated words: 142833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
"Kenzi, this is between me and him. Don't call him, don't text him, and don't show up over there, either. You need to let me deal with this."
"It's the middle of the night. Please leave him alone and just go tomorrow when you've calmed down. We'll go together," I offer, trying to sound hopeful. "That's how we had planned to tell you. We just wanted to wait until after your tour."
He wrenches his arm out of my grip. "This isn't going to wait. I need to talk to him alone. Go to bed. We'll talk more about your part in this in the morning. And don't plan on ever seeing him again."
I open my mouth to protest but he cuts me off. "I'm still your father, Kenzi, and I'd like you to listen to me,” Sadness fills his voice and infiltrates the air between us. “We've never fought before this, Kenzi. Ever."
"I know." I answer tearfully. "I hate it. I can’t stand seeing you this way, so angry and upset."
"Then do as I ask please and let me handle this with him. I want you to go wash your face and lie down. We'll talk in the morning."
I sit on my bed and cross my arms, hugging myself. "I'll never stop seeing him, Dad. I love him and need him too much. Just like how you feel about Mom. I'll never let him go,” I say as he heads for my bedroom door again.
He halts with his hand on the doorknob and turns slightly towards me. "We'll see about that."
I fall apart the moment he leaves, crying into my comforter like a child having a tantrum but I just can’t stop. Feeling helpless and terrified, I’m consumed with the guilt of the damage I've created between two best friends that will probably never be able to be repaired. I've never seen my father so angry before and I'm afraid of what he'll do to Tor. We never should have let this go on without telling my father, and now I blame myself for wanting to wait. Everything just spiraled out of control. I don't know how we can possibly ever make this right again.
33
Tor
Tor ~ age seven
Asher ~ age seven
"Mrs. Johnson thinks we're brothers. 'Cuz we look alike." He's followed me over to the rock I'm sitting on at the corner of the fenced in schoolyard. I always sit here alone during recess and either draw or write in my sketchbook.
I nod at him. We both have hair the same color and length, touching our shoulders. Unlike the other boys in class with their short spiked hair. I refuse to let my mom cut my hair because I want to tie it back like my dad does when he rides. I've never talked to this kid Asher before, but I know about him. His parents are famous. His father is a musician and I love music. I know all his songs and I play them on my old guitar. Asher is lucky.
"You don't talk much, do ya?" He says, sitting next to me.
"Not really."
"So, we're gonna be friends. I like how quiet you are."
"And what if someday I'm not quiet?"
"We'll still be friends. Best friends are forever."
Tor
"Finally," I say into the phone. "I've been a wreck waiting for you to call."
"Tor..." she gasps. "My dad is on his way there. He knows about us."
I bolt up in bed, instantly wide awake. "What? What happened?"
"It's my fault, I'm so sorry," she cries. "I tried to read my mom’s journal and he caught me. I was acting weird and he could tell something was wrong. You know how he is...then he took my phone and he saw your text."
"Oh, shit." I climb out of bed and pull my sweatpants on, cradling the phone against my shoulder.
Her breathing is erratic and she's sniffling and coughing as she tries to talk. It’s making me want to crawl through the phone just to hold her. "He went insane, Tor. It was awful. I've never seen him like this. I'm scared..."
"Angel, calm down, baby, okay? Please don't cry. I'll take care of it."
"I'm afraid he's going to hurt you."
"He's not going to hurt me," I reply, even though I'm sure he will. And I deserve it if he does. I overstepped a huge line of trust between us and I know him well enough to know that this is not something we're going to talk out. This isn't a disagreement about how a song should end or whose bike is fastest or what beer is the best. This is about his best friend putting his hands all over his little girl. That's all he's seeing and hearing right now, and I'll take the punishment for it because I know I would feel the same way if the situation were reversed.