Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 130380 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 652(@200wpm)___ 522(@250wpm)___ 435(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130380 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 652(@200wpm)___ 522(@250wpm)___ 435(@300wpm)
She made a face. “That God-awful game we got you for your fifteenth birthday?”
“The very one.”
I expected her to wrinkle her nose in distaste, but instead, it was like something clicked. She paused, then smiled, then sat back a little on the couch, relaxing next to me.
“Huh,” she mused. “Well, that explains a lot.”
“How so?”
“You were so weird that summer,” Mom said. “The most emotional I’d ever seen you. I blamed it on being fifteen. That’s when you really started doing your makeup. You’d steal mine, you little brat,” she added. “I remember fretting to your father about how we had a teenager now and our real problems were about to begin.”
“My wife, fretting?” Dad said, and I turned in time to see him swing out the back door with a coffee in his hand. He sank into the rocking chair across from us with a smile. “I can’t imagine.”
Mom shot him a glare, but a smile threatened the corner of her lips. Just that little interaction alone made my chest ache, made me clamp my hands together to keep from reaching for my phone to call Leo.
As if Palico sensed it, she nudged my knuckles so I would pet her, instead.
“But then…” Mom continued, frowning. “Not too long after school started, you really changed. And I don’t mean in the petulant teenager way. I mean… you were hurt.” She paused. “Your father and I knew something happened, but we didn’t know what.”
“And you didn’t ask,” I added.
Mom tilted her head a little higher. “Maybe we could have done better,” she admitted. “But let’s be honest — you’ve never been exactly easy to talk to.” She waved her hand between us as if I was illustrating her point at this very moment.
And I supposed I was.
The fact that my mom was showing an actual interest in my life and not the one she wished I was living had me softening a bit. Maybe it was that along with being tired of feeling so alone even in a house with my family that had me opening my mouth and spilling everything.
I told them about that summer with Leo, about what happened when school started. I told them about the hell I went through with the teasing over that stupid drawing, and how I never lived down that awful nickname. Then, I fast forwarded to moving across the street from him, to this summer with the pipes and moving into The Pit and how, slowly, everything between us unfolded.
It was somehow colder by the time I finished, even though the sun was starting to clear out some of the fog. It was still a cloudy day, and when the sun dipped behind one of those clouds, I wrapped myself and Palico up tighter in the blanket with a sigh.
“And then, when all of this happened with Nero…” I shook my head, not wanting to relive it. “Leo didn’t listen to me. He didn’t stay when I begged him to, didn’t take a second to think about what consequences his actions would have.” Emotion had me struggling to swallow. “I lost everything I’d worked for in the blink of an eye,” I whispered. “And in turn, Leo lost my trust.”
Dad let out a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry, Mare Bear.”
I nodded, not sure what else to say. Mom was quiet, and I didn’t dare look at her for fear of the judgment I’d find. I opened my mouth to say that it would all be fine, I just needed some time, when suddenly…
Mom laughed.
Not a quick, sarcastic lash of a chuckle, either, but a full on, belly-deep, had to put her cup of tea down so as not to spill it laugh. She tilted her head up to the sky as it barreled out of her, and then tears were streaming down her face, and she was wiping them away as she laughed even harder.
I didn’t laugh with her. In fact, I watched her like something I should be afraid of before casting a worried glance at my father, silently asking if she was having a stroke. Palico was so startled by it all that she skittered off my lap and used her paw to open the door Dad had left ajar, retreating inside.
“I’m sorry,” Mom finally managed, the words a high-pitched squeak as she still struggled to catch her breath. She reached over and squeezed my knee with her hand, as if we were best friends just yukking it up together and I’d just told the most hilarious joke she’d ever heard. “It’s just that you’re so much like me, it terrifies me sometimes.”
That made my other eyebrow shoot up to join the first.
She waved me off before I could even ask, wiping tears from her face as she sat up straight again. “Ask your dad what happened on our three-month anniversary.”