Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 71044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
I shift my weight from one leg to the other, sighing and trying not to fidget. “I figured I’d … give him his space. Vann, the friend he’s staying with, is probably trying his best to keep Quin away from me.” I look away, frustrated.
“You mean the new couple who moved here from—?”
“Yeah, them. Don’t even know them, never met them, and they’re already rubbing me the wrong way.” Our mom shouts an obscenity from the kitchen, causing us both to turn our heads. “Should we help her …?” I quietly ask.
Kent lowers his voice. “Malik’s bringing a contingency plan from the bakery, just in case.”
“Good thinking.”
“I know you want to give your guy some space, but … maybe don’t give him too much space, you know? If he’s into you, and if you’re … well … truly into him …”
I frown. “Why do you say that last part like that?”
“Like what?”
It’s no use. “If anyone should be wary, it’s my ass, not his.” I push away from the couch and start straightening up the clutter on the coffee table. “I’m the one getting mixed signals here.”
“You are?”
“One minute, I’m not his type. The next minute, he’s all over me wanting a neck massage, moaning on my bed. Then all yesterday, he dodges my calls. And last night, we make out in an old photo booth at the fair.”
“Sounds like a regular Adrian-style weekend to me.”
“Is he into me or is he not?” I blurt out. Then I lift a damp, wadded-up tissue between pinched fingers off of the coffee table, repulsed. “The fuck is this …?”
“I did just say Skip’s been wanking it a lot lately. Just kidding,” he says at the look on my face. “Probably used it as a drink coaster in lieu of having any actual coasters in this place.” He grabs the tissue out of my hand, then makes a face. “Eww, you didn’t tell me it’s wet.”
“Serves you right.”
“I also want to remind you that I did pay half-witness to how you treated my boyfriend’s best friend when he was here …” he goes on as he walks the tissue to the trash bin.
I blink. “You mean Rico …?”
“… not to mention when you stole a guy from me way back when just to prove he wasn’t a good person …”
“Hey, if I hadn’t, you would probably still be with that asshole.”
“… so I have my reasons for being a little dubious when you talk about guys you’ve got feelings for. You’re like a tragic romantic. You want everything, but then you sabotage yourself, end up alone, and everyone you date has an unplanned sob story they can take home as a souvenir.” He faces me with a sigh. “I just don’t want this Quin fellow to be another souvenir-bearing tear fest when he goes home tomorrow. That too much to ask?”
I gnaw on the inside of my cheek, staring off at a clock that hangs on the wall and hasn’t been set for over a year since it died. “Camera clip and wheels.”
Kent frowns. “Huh?”
“I got Skip a camera clip for his skateboard so he can, like, make videos of his tricks for his followers or whatever he does. And a set of wheels he eyed in the store once.”
“Oh.” He nods appreciatively. “Thoughtful.”
“So you don’t have to worry. I didn’t buy him a laptop or a PlayStation 9 or whatever the hell’s out now.”
“Wow, you need to play more games,” teases Kent.
A face emerges in the hallway. “You got me a camera clip and wheels?”
We turn. Our scrawny little brother Skip stands there, messy head of hair squished down by a cap, dressed down in a loose tank and oversized shorts, barefoot.
I sigh. “Can’t keep nothing from you, can I?”
“Sorry, I overheard.” Skip gives Kent a look. “I heard more than that, too, and I don’t jerk off that much.”
Kent’s face goes red. “Well, that’s my cue to return to helping set stuff up outside. Later, cool cats.” And off he goes, slipping out the door and heading to the beach.
I give my little brother a smirk. “Happy birthday, Skip. Wanna help me clean up around here before people start showing up? Mom’s busy destroying the kitchen making you a cake that’ll taste like a leather shoe.”
“I heard that!” she shouts.
Skip cracks a smile. “In case I forget to thank you later, thanks for the clip and wheels. It’s a really thoughtful gift. I’ll make good use out of them.”
“Love you, too, bro,” I say, chuckling, and then the pair of us set to cleaning up the place for the party.
Seven o’clock rolls around, and Skip’s two best pals are the only guests—Dwayne and Reef. By eight, Mom has long since given up on baking anything, but Malik and a bunch of others who work on the Quicksilver Strand show up with more than just the contingency cake. Soon, the whole party moves to the beach where our usual fire pit has been set ablaze, and by nine, a hearty and mixed crowd of thirty or so people from all over the island are here hanging out to celebrate my little brother’s birthday.