Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 115619 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115619 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
“I needed to watch other people being as miserable as I am.” Ahhh, and at this particular moment, a girl is getting beheaded by a guy carrying a chainsaw. I guess we've all had days like that.
“You want some tea?” As soon as I pour some into the mug, the aroma of mint fills the air.
She accepts it, holding the mug in both hands and inhales the steam with her eyes closed. “I don’t know if peppermint tea is enough to soothe these monsoon-sized cramps. I feel like hell.”
“I'm sorry. I feel bad now, ‘cause I was about to ask if you wanted to go to brunch.”
All she can do is cringe. “I'm in no shape to go out in public. It feels like something's kicking me to death from the inside.”
“That's fine with me. We can hang out here. It's been a while since we've been able to just kick back and not do anything.” The last time we tried, we ran away and hid out in a hotel. It wasn't exactly a feel-good sort of day. I spent the whole time missing Callum and wondering how long it would be before he found us while talking Tatum off a ledge of despair. I take the spot beside her.
For a while, it's enough to eat chocolate muffins, drink tea, and watch a pretty brainless movie. Actually, the longer it goes on, the more obvious it is that I needed something like this. I can turn my brain off for a little while and focus on something with no stakes whatsoever.
And all throughout, I get to have my best friend with me, even if it's apparent she's in utter misery. “Where's your heating pad?” I ask when she groans and curls into a ball. “I’ll grab it for you.”
“I honestly don't know. Maybe the bathroom closet?” On my way across the room, she asks, “So, does being here mean everything is okay?”
What a loaded question. I'm glad she can't see my face as I open the closet door. Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes and then answer. “It's complicated.”
“So no, in other words.”
“I didn't say no.” The heating pad is in here, after all, but I hesitate before pulling it out and closing the door. Here I am again, having to remind myself what I can and can't say.
She doesn't know about my father’s theories. It would hurt too much to know what my father is accusing hers of, especially with her hormones all over the place the way they are now. Yeah, I’m not doing that. I'm sure she wouldn't believe it, although she may wonder why my father does, and then there goes opening another can of worms.
Instead of telling her about that, I offer a shrug while returning to her side and plugging in the heating pad at the nearest outlet. “It's messy. You know that. He's technically still married, and then there’s the age issue. He's technically old enough to be my father. So those two things right there make everything very awkward. And let's face it, your mom is sort of vindictive. I'm not going to flaunt the two of us being together if there's a chance of her retaliating somehow, you know? It's just not worth the trouble.”
“Nevertheless, you two are actually together? Right?” I wish I could know how she feels about that. She sounds relatively neutral, but she won't look me in the eyes, either.
“Do you want us to be?” I ask while climbing back into bed.
“I want you both happy, and if that means being together, then yes.”
“I think we're closer to that now than before, if that makes a difference.”
“It does.” She places the pad across her lower abdomen, then pulls the blanket back up to her shoulders. “It's nice to know things can work out for some people.”
Do not engage.
If she's not going to bring Kristoff up in conversation by name, I won't do it, either. Maybe she’s trying to open the door for discussion, but I don’t think she’s ready. It will only make things worse. Instead of launching into a speech about how he wasn't worth the time, anyway, I scroll through Netflix to find another movie. “Are we going with horror again? Oh, maybe we should pick a serial killer documentary?”
“That doesn't sound like a bad idea.” She burrows deeper under the blanket before adding, “Bonus points if it's about a woman who killed a man for fucking with her while she was on her period.”
“Are you kidding? I would start a Go Fund Me for her legal expenses.”
The sound of her glee leaves me smiling. “I swear, if men had to go through a period just once, there'd be a pill to magically treat the symptoms within a year.”
The sound of a man awkwardly clearing his throat gets our attention, and we both look up from the laptop to find Romero hanging in the doorway. His expression is painful, telling me he probably heard what we just said.