Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 125135 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125135 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Holden: Only your lightweight ass could get drunk off a placebo effect. And it’s called protecting, not scamming. But no Shirley Temple for me. This is the real deal.
Lala: Where are you?
Holden: We’re about to play in a bit. Just a small bar in the city. Not as big a gig as the one you saw.
Lala: Aw. Well, I wish I could be there. That still sounds like fun.
The three dots moved around as he typed.
Holden: I wish you were here, too.
My heart fluttered. Stop.
“What on Earth has you smiling like that?” my mother asked.
My hand jerked, and the phone slipped out of my grip. I picked it up and turned it face down. Jesus. I hadn’t even realized I was smiling.
“Nothing.”
“Was that Warren?”
Damn it. I’d never been able to lie to my mother. She could always see through me. This time would be no different.
I swallowed. “No, actually. It’s…Holden.”
My father’s eyes widened. “Holden Catalano?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Why is he texting you?” my mother asked.
“He just texted me a funny photo.”
“A photo of what?”
“Just a cocktail. He’s at one of his band’s shows in the City.”
“What’s so funny about a cocktail?” Dad asked.
“He knows I like vodka cranberries.”
My mother’s forehead wrinkled. “How does he know that?”
“I went to one of his shows the other night and had one.”
Or two or three. I can’t remember.
Her stare intensified. “You’ve been going out with him?”
“No. He just invited me to watch his band play once.”
“Does Warren know?” she asked.
“Yes.” I gulped.
My mother continued prodding. “He doesn’t mind that you’ve been galivanting around with Holden Catalano?”
I laughed nervously. “Mom, it’s not like that. His apartment is next door to mine. And he’s a good friend. That’s all.”
“Try to give Laney some credit,” my father intervened. “She’s a smart girl. We all know that Holden, as much as we love him and as much as Ryan did, would be nothing but trouble. But I’m sure he’s a lot of fun. Laney wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize her relationship with Warren.”
I nodded, feeling my throat close.
My mother crossed her arms. “Men like Holden can be very captivating, but he’s not the best influence. Sometimes in the presence of someone like that—particularly when alcohol is involved—our judgment can be compromised. Especially if you’re away from home.”
Feeling hot, I said, “I’d appreciate it if we could stop talking about this. It was a friendly text. That’s all.”
Beads of sweat now formed on my forehead. If only I believed my own words. It seemed my mother knew me better than my father.
***
A little while later, still feeling extremely unsettled, I retreated upstairs for the night.
But I stopped in front of Ryan’s room instead of my own. When my brother was at his sickest, he’d moved back home with my parents. They still kept his room here the same as it always was. Whenever I was feeling sad or conflicted, I’d sneak in and lie in his bed to feel closer to him.
I opened the door, and the first thing staring me in the face was the collage of photos on the bulletin board across from his bed. There were so many photos of the five guys. Memories of all of their fun times together had kept my brother going at the end.
Fishing trips on Owen’s father’s boat.
Holden and Ryan playing beer pong.
Ryan and Colby at a football game.
Brayden and Ryan dressed up for Halloween.
Because my brother hadn’t found love before he died, I was certain those guys were the most important people in his life, besides his family. My heart clenched. Ryan would have made someone the best husband.
There was a photo of my brother and me when we were little, too. I was dressed in a long gown and wearing my mother’s oversized heels. I used to beg Ryan to play prom with me because I’d been captivated by our teenage neighbor in her pretty dress taking photos outside before her big night. I’d put on the long princess Halloween costume and make my brother hand me flowers picked from the garden. I’d pretend I was the big girl going to the prom, and my poor brother had to go along with playing my date. That was probably the girliest thing I’d ever done before I stopped being interested in frilly things and transformed into a “science nerd,” as Holden would put it.
Speaking of Holden, when I looked down at my phone, I noticed he’d sent another text earlier.
Holden: Wild night.
There was a photo of him, home in bed, eating Hot Cheetos. He was shirtless. Only Holden could make eating Hot Cheetos look sexy.
Lala: Home already?
A few minutes later, he responded.
Holden: Yep. Didn’t feel like partying after the show tonight. Came straight home. Showered. And already in bed.
Lala: Who dis?
Holden: I know, right?
Lala: You have a reputation to uphold, Catalano. Going home alone goes against that.