Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 72196 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72196 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
Alex walked over to the car like she didn’t have a care in the world. She had her backpack on one shoulder, and a smile on her face.
She got into the truck, didn’t complain once about having to sit next to TJ like she normally did, and even set her bag down carefully without jostling the baby or the car seat as she did.
I looked over at Travis as he waited for Alex to buckle the seatbelt, and widened my eyes.
He shook his head, feeling about the same as me that this was a rare phenomenon, and shrugged.
The drive all the way to dinner was nerve wracking as we both waited for the other shoe to drop.
But it never did. Not then. Not fifteen minutes into dinner. Not when Leida went up to Alex and gave her a hug—they were nearly the same age, and had been the best of friends since they both were born.
“I’m glad that she’s back,” Travis’ mother, Allora, mused. “It’s nice to have her talking and being friendly instead of sitting in a corner and spitting at us when we get too close.”
I winced.
I hadn’t actually been here for any of their interactions for a while—at least a couple months before TJ was born. So this was news hearing that Alex was less than nice. At least to her grandmother, that was.
Not that it surprised me.
Alex was that kid. The one that you hated but loved at the same time.
I couldn’t help but love her. She was part of Travis. A huge part of him that he loved with all of his heart, so how could I not love her?
But being her friend had not happened. She’d scorned every and any attempt that I’d made to get to know her. I bought her presents. Clothes. Took her to see movies. I was the best friend that everyone loved—but Alex. Alex hated me, and made no attempt to hide that fact.
“Fuckin’ breath of fresh air,” Colder, Travis’ father, grunted. “Was starting to think there was something wrong with her.”
“It was like coming back to night and day,” Evander, an employee and friend of Travis, muttered. “I went to jail for four years. When I’d left, she was always giving hugs, and warm. Then I got back, and it was like the kid had been switched with her alternate alien version. I don’t think I’ve gotten a single hug since I’ve been back.”
Kennedy, Evander’s wife, curled up to his side. “Well, four years is a long time for a child. They grow up, change, and move on. It’s very possible that she is a different kid, at least in the knowledge sense. She’s more capable of comprehending the things that go on around her.”
I.e., the divorce, and her parents no longer being together. Not to mention the fact that I’d had a baby with her father.
Yeah, those kinds of things.
“Whatever the reason, I’m just glad she’s not spitting at you. That shit drives me insane, and I want to spank her ass. But you damn well know the minute you do anything to her, her mother is going to report it to the cops. The kid could use a good ass whoopin’,” Colder muttered.
I couldn’t agree more, yet I couldn’t do a damn thing about it.
“Did you see that Allegra’s in another commercial?” Baylor asked, sidling into the conversation, taking a seat, and deftly removing a sleeping TJ from his mother’s arms. “This one was for a ‘darn good deal.’ She even spread out the cash like she used to.”
Allegra Levaux was Hostel royalty. Her father owned a chain of car lots, and was richer than Elvis—as well as more popular around here.
“Yeah, it was annoying as fuck,” Baylor continued when nobody spoke. “She does this wave and dance that lifts her skirt up. Looks like a total hoochie.”
I didn’t reply, trying not to get sucked into this ‘trash Allegra’ business that Travis’ family always fell into the moment that they could. I tried not to do that. Maybe because I wouldn’t want anyone else to do it to me, and also, because Alex always seemed to know when someone was talking bad about her shitty mom. Like now.
She was staring at us from where she was sitting outside, watching, but not moving.
“You have company,” I gestured toward Alex. “Let’s not talk about this. I swear, it feels like that kid has super hearing or something. She always knows when her mother is being talked about—like a sixth sense or something.”
Baylor said something under his breath and changed the subject.
“So, are you and Trav going to have any more babies?”
I looked at Baylor in surprised.
“Uhh, no,” I said. “We have three total together. It’s simpler if we just deal with what we have. That, and I’m not a good pregnant person. I gained fifty pounds, and I’m still carrying twenty-five of it around on my hips two months later.”