Total pages in book: 157
Estimated words: 149510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 748(@200wpm)___ 598(@250wpm)___ 498(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 149510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 748(@200wpm)___ 598(@250wpm)___ 498(@300wpm)
Professor Murkowski has a reputation for being a hard-ass, so this revelation isn’t that big of a surprise. Still, the girl’s fucking paralyzed. If that’s not enough to wear him down, I don’t know what ever will.
Truthfully, Ty’s the reason I’ve gotten approval from all my professors to work remotely. He’s also been working behind the scenes with the Financial Aid Office to figure out what they can do about Scottie’s cheerleading scholarship and figure out ways that she can keep funding for the next three years without being an active cheerleader on the squad. She’s a good student and they have a couple of grants for some scholarships that are largely at their discretion, so he’s pretty confident it’s going to come through.
“I appreciate everything you’re doing,” I tell him, and he just claps a hard hand to my back.
“Of course.” He rises to his feet. “Now, I gotta head out. Emily has a dance recital across town, and both my girls will ream my ass if I’m late.”
Before he can go, I find myself standing and hugging him. I don’t know why and I don’t know how, but it just feels right. It’s only been a few months since we’ve started working toward a relationship, but it feels like I’ve known him all my life.
“Thanks, Ty.”
“I’ve always got your back, bro.” He flashes a smile over his shoulder as he starts to head toward the elevators, but something dawns on me.
“Wait…what was the other thing you wanted to tell me?” I call out toward his retreating back.
He turns briefly to meet my eyes. “I’ll text you.” And then he disappears around the corner of the nurses station.
My phone buzzes a moment later.
Ty: The jurors found him unanimously guilty on all counts. And the judge has sentenced him to life in prison.
Holy shit. With everything that’s happened with Scottie, I completely forgot about my dad’s trial. Normally, it can take a year after someone is brought into custody before they stand before a judge and jury, but since he killed a police officer and he’s been a wanted man for many years, the court system fast-tracked that shit.
I don’t hesitate to open up the group chat with my siblings.
Me: He got life in prison.
Their responses come in seconds later, a variation of shock, surprise, and relief. All of which I completely understand. There’s a small part of me that feels sad for my dad, but it’s so small that if I blink a few more times, it’ll disappear on the wind.
I don’t know what I thought would happen when I set foot on Dickson’s campus at the beginning of the year, but I know with certainty I never anticipated this. My mind rolls through everything that’s happened over the past year, and I find myself scrolling through my other text conversations.
Ace and Blake, two guys I didn’t know at the start of the year who have now become my best friends.
Julia and Kayla. Scottie’s friends who have become my friends.
My group chat with all the Winslow siblings—who are my siblings too. It’s been nonstop chatter since Scottie got hurt. Every single one of them wanting to stay updated on her condition. Every single one of them offering support in whatever way they can.
My separate conversation with Ty, whom I’ve grown so close with over the past few months that I actually feel like he’s my own full flesh and blood. In a weird way, he’s become a bit of a father figure that I’ve never had.
My siblings, of course. And despite the bomb I just dropped on them, our group chat has gone from ugly things happening within our house to peace and joy and happiness.
My mom. Ever since my father has been out of the picture, she’s starting to find herself again and working through the guilt that comes with not leaving and getting us out of that house sooner. Hindsight is twenty-twenty, though, and she never had the support we have from the Winslows when she was trying to do it on her own.
Scottie’s sister, Wren. Even her dad. For the past week, they’ve been keeping me updated on Scottie’s condition and welcomed my loitering with open arms. Yesterday was the first day they left Scottie’s bedside to go back to Westchester because they couldn’t miss any more shifts from their jobs.
And of course, Scottie. I scroll up, past all my most recent text messages to her that have gone unanswered and look at the exchanges we had before she got hurt.
There are more I love yous than I can count. There’s teasing and flirting and the kind of happy, cutesy fucking texts that probably would’ve made me want to puke a year ago.
I miss her.
She’s the only missing piece to my happily-ever-after.
Thursday May 1st
Scottie
Sweat drips from my brow and my neck and my armpits and my boobs as I use all my strength to lift myself up from my wheelchair and into my bed. My arms shake and my hands cramp, and when my ass is halfway toward my mattress, my elbows start to buckle, but I force a deep inhale of oxygen into my lungs and muster every ounce of power I have to complete the distance. Once my butt hits the bed, I almost slip off the edge, but my physical therapist is there to help ease me back a few inches so I don’t hit the floor.