Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 87155 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87155 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
For thirty minutes every morning and then thirty minutes every afternoon, I didn’t have to think about my dad. Or my mom. Or how I was going to feed Nora that night. I didn’t have to think about math tests or failing fifth grade—again. I didn’t have to think about anything at all.
For one hour every day, I got to be eleven.
I filled Thea’s ears with all things bikes, school gossip, and TV I’d watched the night before. I didn’t mention that it was a bike I could never afford, that the school gossip was something I’d created to take the attention off us, or that I was only watching TV because Nora had woken me up with another nightmare. No. I didn’t mention any of that. And it was hands down the most liberating hour of my entire life.
My stomach would churn every afternoon when the bus came to a stop at the end of our street, cuing my mandatory return to reality. I tried to hold on to her, begging her to come out and play, but she never took the bait.
I’d often wished we had a cool story about when our relationship transitioned from that of tolerating each other to discovering we were two halves of one soul. But the truth is Thea and I evolved much like the seasons: slow, steady, and unstoppable.
With the way we’d met, our friendship was unlikely at best. Then, after I yelled at her and told her I didn’t feel sorry for her that her mother had died, I half expected it to be a nonexistent friendship. But in a twist of fate I’d never be able to fully explain, she hugged me.
I wasn’t a virgin to human touch or anything. Nora hugged me. My mom had hugged me. But I knew down to the marrow in my bones that there was something life altering about the way Thea hugged me. And I fucking loved it.
After that, I caught her looking at me more. And not the usual scowl she shot my way when I offered her gum.
No, this was more.
She’d watch me out of the corner of her eye when we were sitting in class.
I’d feel her gaze on my back when I’d be waiting in line for my county-provided free lunch.
On the bus, she’d turn to face me as soon as she sat down.
And I noticed it every single time because I was watching her too.
Despite the unbelievably ridiculous name, Sir Hairy changed things for us too. Dogs had to pee and it gave Thea an excuse to come out of her fortress at least twice a day. And when she’d hobble out, I was always there, waiting like a junkie for a few more minutes of the emotional reprieve she provided me.
Most of the time, she’d sit on the end of the driveway while I took Sir Hairy into the woods to do his business. But occasionally, after a few minutes of pleading and heckling, I could convince her to hop onto my back and go out to the tree in the Wynns’ hayfield. I loved those nights. A peace I hadn’t felt in, well, ever would wash over me as the cool fall wind rustled the leaves. She’d sit at the trunk with her back propped up against the bark while I’d make myself comfortable in the branches.
Sometimes we’d talk. I’d tell her about my shit day and she’d tell me about hers. We’d commiserate, make sad jokes about our crappy parents, and act like our screwed-up lives were perfectly normal. And when we were together, they were perfectly normal. I didn’t have to pretend to be someone else with Thea, because in some twisted way, I was exactly who she needed me to be.
Other times, we hung out at that tree in silence. She had the most amazing sixth sense for knowing when I needed the quiet. I wasn’t so great at reading her, but she had no qualms telling me to shut it.
“Not tonight, Ramsey,” she’d whisper. “Please.”
No matter how bad my day had been or how much I needed to unload my burdens on someone who would understand, I’d give her those moments, because without a shadow of a doubt she would have given them to me.
Occasionally Nora would come with us. She’d trot Sir Hairy around on his leash while collecting acorns. Those were the afternoons Thea would smile. And God, did I love her smile.
Love changes a man—even when he’s not yet a man at all. We were friends, but Thea was still quiet, stoic, borderline rude a lot of the time. However, in that tree, suffering alone and also together, I fell in love with her like the stars falling from the sky.
Thea made me feel.
It didn’t take long before I was utterly addicted.