Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 97684 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97684 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
"I know." He offers me his hand.
I take it. Squeeze tightly. "I can't do it."
He nods okay, squeezes back.
I push out a heavy exhale.
He stays silent.
Which is wrong. He's supposed to argue, tell me I'm wrong, that I'm silly, that I can do this.
Why isn't he saying this?
Does he not believe it?
Maybe that's why Holden isn't here. Maybe it has nothing to do with what I asked, with practicalities, with any of that.
Maybe he is scared.
Maybe I am too much.
Maybe he just can't handle that.
I let go of my brother's hand. Turn over. Bury my face in the covers.
Oliver waits until my breath slows.
Then in a low, even tone, he asks, "Is that really what you want?"
"Huh?"
"Do you really want to skip a semester?"
"I don't know."
"To stay here? Live in dad's house? Go to UCLA. Or SMC."
"It's just… it's too much."
"You can do it."
"That doesn't mean anything."
His voice is even. "You really believe you can't?"
"I don't know."
"All right. Maybe you can't. But if you go and you fail, at least you tried."
"That's stupid. If I go and I fail, I'll have shitty grades. Or get 'withdraws.' Or—"
"So?"
"So? That will be—"
"A bad first semester. And maybe you'll need to be here. At UCLA. Maybe you'll need us nearby. But last time I checked, you got into UCLA."
"Yeah." That is true.
"And UCSB and UCI and USCD and USC and—"
"I know where I got in."
"We visited all those schools.”
We did.
"And some on the East Coast."
Yeah.
"But you choose Berkley."
"But—"
"You said, as soon as you stepped onto campus, you knew. It felt right. And you felt happy. Every time you thought about it, you felt happy. You felt like you were home."
"Well—"
"If it's too much and you're scared and you need someone from home, then you'll have to fight to keep me away."
"But—"
"They have tattoo shops in Berkeley, don't they?"
"Probably." I push out a shallow exhale. "But it's expensive."
"Yeah, but I'll have you as my roomie."
I shake my head.
"I'm gonna cunt-block for four years straight."
A laugh breaks up the tension in my chest. "You will not." I roll over so I can look him in the eyes. "Will you?"
He shrugs maybe, maybe not. "You think I'm letting some punk football player fuck with my baby sister?"
"Oh my God."
"Bad enough I missed you sleeping with the biggest slut in the state."
"That isn't you?"
"All right, top two." His smile is soft. "I know it's scary. Really fucking scary. But you can do it. And I'm not saying that because it's what you need to hear. I'm saying it because I know you. And I know you've been through a lot harder shit than this."
"Okay."
"So trust me when I say, you can do it. You don't have to believe me. Hell, you don't have to try. If you really want to pull out of school, I'm not going to stop you."
"You're not?"
"No." He stares into my eyes. "I will kill Holden though."
"But—"
"Don't try to tell me it's not about him. I'm not that oblivious."
"But—"
"What did he give you?"
"That's kinda—"
"Is it a picture of his dick?" Oliver asks.
"Why would it—"
"Then it's not that personal." He motions give it.
I push myself up. Swallow hard. "Well, it's…" I hold up the silver key chain. It's inscribed with the quote on his chest.
dulce periculum
Danger is sweet.
Until you get the real thing on the other side.
Oliver holds it up. Shakes his head of course. "If you drop out of school for him, I'll kill both of you."
"Oliver—"
"You think that's gonna stop me?"
"How about 'pretty please'?"
He shakes his head. "You used yours."
"I only get one?"
"Per day." He places the key chain in my palms. "You can have another tomorrow. If you want to waste it on Holden's life…" He shakes his head I won't stop you. He stands. Flips off the light. "You need anything?"
"No. Just—"
"Yeah." He pulls the door open. "I'm proud of you."
"I know."
"Do you? 'Cause sometimes, I'm not sure you have any idea how fucking proud I am." His voice cracks for a moment. Then he swallows it. "Get some sleep. It's gonna be a long day."
"Okay."
"Don't let him do your first tattoo."
"I already—"
"I'm a better artist."
"Maybe we can negotiate."
"For his life? Don't count on it," Oliver says.
"Maybe you could… think about… drinking less."
He swallows hard. "I'll think about it."
"Really?"
"Yeah. Now go to bed." He nods good night, steps into the hallway, closes the door behind him.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Daisy
The next morning is quiet. Breakfast, tea, last-minute packing.
A goodbye from Luna.
Absolutely no sign of Holden.
We pile my stuff into Dad's car. Drive to my music.
Oliver barely complains about the auto-tune.
Dad insists it's a jam. He's pretty up to date on the latest. Or maybe he's trying to connect with me.
The road stretches forever. It feels like it takes a million miles to arrive in Monterey, park, check into our hotel, head to the aquarium.