Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 84195 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84195 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
“Mama…” I tugged her to me and hugged her. We both cried for a few minutes, and then she scooched me over, sitting with her back to the wall too.
“You’re in love with Clark.”
“Yes…but I can’t…”
“You can. You’re not me. We’ve gone over this, remember? If I’m gonna be real and get my shit together, you’re going to as well. This is what we’re going to do: I’m going to make an appointment with a therapist, and I’m also going to cut off dating—for real this time—and figure out why…well, figure out my shit. You’re going to—not tonight, of course—but you’re going to call and check in on the job. And you’re also going to look into more jobs—any kind of sewing jobs—just to get the practice. And you’re going to find a way to realize you’re worthy of love, and it’s okay to let yourself fall, because you’re not me. My mistakes won’t be yours.”
“It would never work with Clark.”
“Who are you, and what have you done with Skylar? You’re fucking fabulous, and you know it. Plus, that boy has been in love with you since you were kids. He looks at you like you set his world on fire. No one has ever looked at me that way.”
“That doesn’t sound like a good thing.”
“It is. I promise.”
“His mom—”
“Isn’t who you’ll be dating. She’s stuffy and pretentious, but whatever; she’ll get used to it.”
“What if it causes problems between Clark and her? What if I’m not what’s best for him?”
Mom sighed, looked at me, and said, “Stop trying to protect everyone. Clark isn’t me, and he’s capable of making his own decisions, don’t you think? If you want him, then tell him and trust him. You can’t control Clark, or his mom, and he certainly can’t control her either. The only thing either of you can control is yourselves. Don’t let her or anyone else write your story. The two of you need to write it for yourselves.”
I looked at her, smiled, felt…maybe a little hope. “You’re good at this.”
“Yeah, well, it’s a lot easier to give advice than to follow it. But that changes tonight.”
“I love you, Mom.”
She rested her head on my shoulder. “I love you too, Sky.”
38
Clark
I’d been avoiding my mom for the better part of a week, so when my dad called me into an unscheduled meeting in the conference room, I was already suspicious and not at all prepared to get into the nitty-gritty with them, even if it did end up being work-related.
As it was, I was still licking my wounds after my last phone call with Skylar.
“Why should you damage your relationship with your family for a booty call?”
My chest had cracked open when he’d said those words, and though we’d texted here and there since then, it felt stiff and forced and not at all the same as before. Maybe because in the blink of an eye, we’d gone from tender touches in the dead of night, back to platonic text messages. I couldn’t help wondering if he was feeling as affected by the change as I was, even if he was the one who’d originally set the parameters—and even though I’d gone along with them willingly. I knew the ground rules where Skylar was concerned, so why was I so gutted, having known full well this was how it would all go down?
Because you went and fell in love, idiot.
When the steady ache in my chest eventually subsided, I hoped I’d see the experience for what it was—a good period in my life where I discovered things about myself because of him. And maybe when I started dating again— No, abort. Abort. The idea of being with anyone else curled my stomach. Skylar was the only one I wanted.
I pushed the button for the elevator, brightening a smidgen because I supposed it could’ve been much worse. At least I still had Skylar’s friendship, something I’d lost so many years ago and had finally gotten back. Mom had nearly ruined this for me as well, and I hadn’t gotten over my anger yet. I didn’t know the exact words I would be saying to her once I composed myself enough, or how it would shape our future relationship—what was left of it. This might’ve been the last straw. In the meantime, I’d buried myself in so many appointments, I was hardly at the office at all this week.
But I definitely had my weaker moments, where I wanted to beg Skylar to come over after work—or the other scenario I’d conjured, where I’d show up at the Playground and wait for him. For what exactly, I didn’t know. Seeing him dance while other men ogled him would kill me, especially when I knew he wasn’t mine.
Thankfully, I still had some sense in my head to nip the idea in the bud.