Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 71054 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71054 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
“Mom! Stop! How could he know that?” He squeezed his eyes shut. “And besides, every neighborhood has crime. Even yours.”
She grew silent and then, “You’re right. I’m sorry, Nolan.”
“It’s okay. You’re just worried about him.” My mom would be equally anxious.
“I’m glad he has such a good friend.”
They said their goodbyes and ended the call.
“Fuck,” Ellis said. “I almost wish I hadn’t told my parents.”
“Hey, I get it.” I gripped his shoulder and felt a weird twinge. His skin was always warm in bed, and surely that detail registering right then was only because of my fingers pulsing against his skin. I removed my hand quickly so he didn’t think I was acting strangely.
I found a parking space, and then we padded up a flight of stairs to our practice studio. Anthony and Perry were already there, messing around, but they stopped playing as soon as we walked in. The room grew quiet as if they didn’t know what to say to Ellis.
“I swear to God, if you treat me like I’m fragile, I’m gonna kick your asses.”
“Dude, you were robbed in your own apartment,” Perry said. “Stop acting like it’s no big deal.”
“Yeah, you don’t have to act like a tough guy,” Anthony said. “It’s okay to be freaked out.”
Ellis glanced at me as if hoping I’d jump in to help. But they had a point.
“Sure, I’m shaken, but they reinforced the locks on the windows and all that.”
“Even still,” Perry replied. “I’d have PTSD or some shit.”
“Did they catch the guys who did it?” Anthony asked, and I shook my head, knowing the police had come up empty so far.
“I just…” Ellis closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
“Just be real, man,” Perry said.
“Okay, fine. I’ve been having nightmares, and sometimes I relive in my head what happened. But doing normal shit like this helps. You satisfied?”
“Yep,” Anthony said, lightly hitting the cymbal with his drumstick. “Want to smoke some weed before we practice?”
“Definitely,” Ellis said, blowing out a breath.
“I’m out of supplies though,” Perry said. “Gonna hit up the vending machine.”
The cool thing about the managers of this building was that they kept their musicians well-stocked with strings, caffeine, and rolling papers. Like I said, the perfect arrangement.
After passing around a joint, we got to work. We ran through our set list for the upcoming week, then spent time getting the lyrics down for new songs we were writing. Ellis eventually lost himself in the music, and it was evident he needed to get out of his head for a while.
“See you Thursday.” I waved as we headed out the door at the end of practice.
“That felt good,” Ellis said once we were on the road.
“It did,” I agreed. Making music certainly got the endorphins pumping.
We were quiet the rest of the way as we listened to an album from a local band, but Ellis began fidgeting the closer we got to our building.
“Wanna heat up the food my mom dropped off?” he asked.
I pulled into the parking lot. “While watching TV?” I suggested without explicitly asking him to come up to my place. His electronics had been stolen, so the intent was obvious.
“Yeah,” he said with a sad smile, probably glad we weren’t spelling it out.
Once inside, we slowed at his apartment door.
“Want me to wait while you—”
“Nah, I’ll be up in a minute.”
“Cool.” He was still trying to gather courage as I got to the elevator, but I didn’t know what to do. I waited for a few beats and watched as he finally crossed over the threshold.
After I got upstairs, I paced around my living room, kicking myself for not waiting. I was just about to head back down when he knocked. I felt instant relief.
He was in shorts and a tee, and when he looked at my feet, I realized I hadn’t even toed off my shoes. I waved him in, getting rid of my coat first while he made his way to the kitchen with the casserole.
Wednesday followed Ellis but kept her distance. After staying here a few days in a row, she’d gotten more used to him. But she still refused to sleep in my room, even when I encouraged her. Of course that made Ellis feel guilty, but I knew she’d come around eventually.
I grabbed plates as he heated up the food, and then we sat down to eat.
“So good. Your mom can cook for us anytime,” I said around a mouthful.
“Right? Your mom’s lasagna is the bomb though.”
We cleaned up our dishes before heading to the living room. We’d started a long series on a popular streaming service, and it became our excuse, in a way. We sat on opposite ends of the couch as if to prove that sleeping in the same bed wasn’t a big thing. As if it wasn’t just one friend consoling another.