Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 68309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
“I love that about you,” she says as we round the corner. As soon as she realizes what she said, her cheeks turn rosy and without hesitating, she adds, “Grant said you’re not on social media either.”
Trying to change the subject?
“Correct. Tried it. Hated it.” I don’t get into the whole hacked-by-a-psycho-ex thing because it’s neither here nor there. “I’ve never understood the obsession with other people’s lives. Who the hell cares what some random person from your high school is up to these days? I’d much rather be living my life than watching everyone else live theirs.”
“I don’t disagree with you,” she says. “Though sometimes when you come from a large family, it’s just easier to keep in touch on a website. If my sisters want to post pictures of their kids, it’s easier to post them there than to send out two dozen text messages.”
“I suppose,” I say. “Guess I wouldn’t know what that’s like.”
She’s quiet for a beat.
“You have a sister, right? Claire?”
“Yep.”
“And you said your parents didn’t believe in TV? That must have been an interesting childhood.”
I chuff. “To say the least.”
“What else didn’t they believe in?”
“You name it,” I say. “Christmas, birthdays … getting along with each other for more than five seconds at a time.”
She flinches. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. They were assholes. And I haven’t seen or spoken to them in over a decade,” I say. “I’ve moved on. Life’s too short to hold onto the past.”
“Do you ever miss them?”
“Hard no.” I’m not even sure if they’re still living in Jersey. Don’t know. Don’t care.
“What about your sister? Does she still talk to them?” she asks.
I shake my head. “She invited them to her wedding a few years ago, only because it seemed like the right thing to do. They RSVP’d yes—and then they no-showed. I ended up walking her down the aisle.”
“Wow.”
We finish the current block in silence.
“What’s your family like?” I change the subject.
“Big,” she says. “Loud. Opinionated. Traditional. They could make a sitcom out of us. My parents have been married almost forty years and still adore each other like lovesick teenagers. I have three older sisters … Carly, Alana, and Megan. We lost Kari five years ago. Carly has three kids. All teenagers. Alana is pregnant with baby number five and due any day. Megan is the most indecisive soul you’ll ever meet in your entire life. She’s had four fiancés and six careers in three states over the last ten years. My family can be intense, and we’ve had our fair shares of disharmony, but there’s never been a shortage of love.”
“Sounds nice”
She pulls in a slow breath. “Yeah. It is.”
“You miss them?”
Brie smirks. “Not yet.”
We round the next block. Up ahead a hot dog vendor gabs into his phone, and the scent of all-beef franks fills the air.
“Confession time,” Brie says, “I really love hot-dog cart hot dogs—also I’m really hungry right now because I skipped breakfast—so I’m going to get one. Please reserve any and all judgement. I don’t know what’s in the water, and I don’t want to know what’s in the water.”
My blood turns cold, cracking like ice in my veins. The dream comes around again. This small detail about her isn’t news to me in the least.
Before I have a chance to respond, she’s ordering.
“You want one?” Brie turns back to me. “You know you do …”
“I’m good. Thanks.” I wave her off and shove my hands in my pockets, hardly able to feel them.
For a moment, I’m not sure if any of this is real.
What if this is a dream?
She returns with a steaming hot dog slathered in ketchup and mustard and a handful of napkins. We take a seat on a nearby bench. A city bus roars past us, as well as pockets of people, many of them tourists snapping pictures as they draw closer to Central Park.
“So what are you reading these days?” she asks between bites.
“Contracts. Mostly.”
“No. For fun.”
“Just finished The Alchemist for the fourth time,” I say.
She slaps my shoulder. “See! I told you it’s amazing.”
“So I love you because the entire universe conspired to help me find you.” The line has been resonating in my mind lately.
Brie nearly chokes on her bite. “What?”
“It’s a line from the book …” Oops. Maybe I should’ve thought about my choice better.
The color returns to her face. “Ah. I’ve only read it once. I guess maybe if I were an overachiever who’d read it four times, I’d have known that …”
“I’m hardly an overachiever. Intense maybe—if something captures my interest. Overachiever, nah.”
“That sounds exactly like the kind of line my sister, Kari, would’ve tattooed on herself.” Brie takes a small bite. “She had eight of them. My parents only knew of three.”
“You have any tattoos?” I steal a glance at her wrist, half-expecting there to be something this time despite knowing it’s impossible.