Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 114211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
Then Juni says, “I think you were right.”
I look up at her. “Huh? When?”
“I’ve been … stumbling around a bit in life. Like … in a dream for a while now, or something.”
I sigh. “You didn’t do nothin’ wrong.”
“Hear me out.” She lowers her book. “Even before the lottery. I feel like I never really figured out what it was I wanted to do with my life. Did you know at one point, I wanted to open a salon?”
“A salon? Like, for nails?”
“Manicures and pedicures, but also makeup. Oh, I love makeup. I’d love to sit there and just … paint someone’s face on top of their face. That’s basically what makeup is, right?”
I blink. “You lost me.”
She slips her legs out of her shirt, drawing my eyes, and then she turns to face me. “I wondered something, Anthony. Something really serious. I wondered … what I might be like right now … if I hadn’t won that lottery. And I wonder what it would’ve been like, had I gone to that bachelor auction without a blank check.”
I shrug at her. “You wouldn’t have been able to buy me.”
“Exactly. And what have I done with my money since? Other than waste it on … on fake glasses and makeup and things I keep losing in that mess of an apartment?” She turns to me. “Anthony. I know I won a lottery, but … but in truth … what I won was you.”
I meet her eyes.
“You,” she repeats, facing me fully now, her eyes wide with wonder. “I didn’t win money. I won you: the truest friend I’ve ever had, who saw me for what I really am, a once-in-a-lifetime friend to the end. Anthony … you’re the lottery I won.”
“Fuck,” I breathe out, hand to my chest.
“I know, right?” She laughs at my reaction, then turns serious again. “The question is … what do I do now? With the money. With my life. With this wakeup call you just gave me.” Her face melts into a smile. “I guess I’m trying to thank you. For being a dick to me last night and saying those things. That was so sweet of you.”
“No, it wasn’t.”
“It was sweet because you’re still the voice of reason. Even if my head’s in the clouds. And a military boy’s tied down to my bed with a vibrating butt plug.” She smiles at me with happy tears in her eyes. “Do you realize you’re the most reliable person in my life? I can always rely on you to be real with me. I need that.”
I swallow. “What was that about a butt plug …?”
She’s out of her chair and drops onto the curb by my side to hug me tightly. “I love you so much, Anthony. Thanks for being my lottery.” She pulls back. “And I promise, I’ll do something real nice and good with my money. Other than spend it on another pink pussycat curling iron. I still couldn’t find the dang thing,” she hisses at me, sad about it.
That’s when the door behind us opens, and Pete’s weary face pokes out. “I broke free ‘cause I had to pee. You didn’t tie me down tight enough.” Then he spots me, startled. “Oh, uh, hey, dude.”
23
BRIDGER
“But, like, why?” whines Anthony.
For the tenth time since we left the house.
“Because I said so,” I answer him from the driver’s seat. I got permission to take Pete’s car tonight. He’s off with Cody, Trey, and Juniper doing something else tonight.
“I still don’t understand why I gotta be blindfolded.”
I pat Anthony’s leg. “Because I said so,” I repeat myself.
“I’m tired of you sayin’ so and me just goin’ along with it.” He smirks and turns his face halfway to me. “Like it’s been all week.”
I grin, continuing to drive into the night.
He isn’t wrong.
We haven’t been able to keep away from each other all week. Sometimes it’s the four of us, with Pete and Juniper. Sometimes it’s all six of us when Cody and Trey are free. But most of the time: just me and Anthony, the insufferable pair that no one in Spruce seems to understand.
I think it was Tuesday when I told Anthony I wanted to try out this Pepperoni Pirate place that the choir guys go to after their rehearsals. Jeremiah, Robby, and Burton with his girlfriend Cindy were all there. After chatting with them, Anthony and I massacred two large pizzas all on our own, then proceeded to the pool tables in the back, where I whooped his ass five times in a row before he finally got one up on me in the sixth game. He was convinced I let him win, but I insisted I didn’t chalk my stick well enough and it kept slipping. He made fun of how I played, lining up every shot, meticulous, measuring degrees, calling pockets, and going by the book. “That ain’t how you play pool!” he shouted at me at one point, exasperated, “and you’re takin’ out all the fun that way! Just look at the table, shut one eye, and shoot!” So I tried it his way. I shut an eye, picked a ball, and took my shot—and the ball went flying straight off the table, rolled across the floor, and tripped an unfortunate server who was on his way to deliver a pitcher of beer to the choirboys at a neighboring table.