Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 94012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
It was hard to see Archie’s expression in the dark, but his pace slowed. “Oh.” After a moment, he added, “Yeah… Like I said, he’s cool.”
“Okay. Just making sure.”
We didn’t say much else for the rest of the walk home.
After Archie and I went to our rooms, I tossed and turned for most of that night—thinking about James and me, Bree and Archie, Archie and me, and the various ways I knew my heart could end up broken this summer.
• • •
The following morning, Archie was already waiting outside when I emerged from the house at 6:05.
“Someone set his alarm,” I teased.
“Well, you gave me the extra hour. I told you I would. I don’t play games. By the way, who’s the late one now?”
After a minute of stretching, I turned to him. “Ready?”
“Lead the way.”
The extra hour of sleep had also done me good; I seemed to have more energy this morning. It didn’t hurt that I had one of the most gorgeous guys I’d ever laid eyes on as a personal chaperone, either.
We were two miles into our run, and everything was going smoothly until Archie suddenly slowed down and clutched his chest.
My pulse picked up. “Are you okay?”
He panted, pointing to the side of the road. “I don’t know. Can we sit over there for a minute?”
“Yeah. Of course.”
We planted ourselves on a large rock.
“What are you experiencing right now?” I asked. “Talk to me.”
His hand was still at his chest. “It just…feels like I can’t catch my breath.” He looked at me. “I think it’s a panic attack.”
“You’ve been through this before?”
He nodded.
I put my hand on his shoulder. “We should go back home.”
“No. I can’t let him see me like this.”
His dad. “Okay. We’ll stay here. It’s okay. Just breathe.” I rubbed his arm. “You get these a lot?”
“Only randomly when I’m under stress, but always at inopportune times.” He forced a smile. “Like running with you. I have a reputation as an asshole to uphold. I can’t have you thinking I’m some weak dude who gets panic attacks.” He flashed a crooked smile.
I was probably meant to laugh at that, but I couldn’t. “Did something specific cause you to panic?”
“I think this attack’s been brewing for a while now. But, in general, they come out of nowhere.”
With each minute we sat, he seemed to calm down a little more.
I remembered what my mom had alluded to briefly last night. “Is everything okay with you and your parents? Is something going on?”
Several seconds passed before he turned to me.
“Things aren’t okay.” He shook his head. “They’re not okay at all.”
My hand landed on his arm. “You can tell me.”
He kept shaking his head. “I don’t even know where to start.”
“The beginning?” I offered a sympathetic smile. “Or not. I just want you to know you can vent. I won’t tell anyone.”
He closed his eyes for a long while. “This may be the last summer that anything looks remotely the same, Noelle.”
A sinking feeling came over me. “What’s happening?”
“My mother is losing her mind.”
“What do you mean?”
“She was diagnosed with early-onset dementia.”
Oh no. “When?”
“The signs had been there for a while, but the diagnosis came about six months ago.”
That explained why she was asking him the same questions again that one night at dinner.
“I’m so sorry, Archie.”
“That’s not even all of it.” He blew out a shaky breath. “Sorry. I need a minute. I haven’t spoken about this with anyone.”
“Take your time.”
“I think my dad is having an affair,” he finally said. “Actually, I know he is.”
My mouth fell open. “Oh my God.”
“So while my poor mother is suffering, that bastard is taking full advantage of her not being in her right mind.”
I held my stomach. “That sickens me.”
Archie looked up at the sky. “I just feel…so much pressure—to be there for my mother, to please my father, because he expects me to follow in his footsteps and work for his firm someday. The thing is, I want to do that, if just to prove myself to him. There’s nothing I want more. But there’s something you don’t know about me—why it’s gonna be so goddamn difficult.”
My heartbeat accelerated. “What?”
“I might seem outgoing from the outside. But I...don’t speak in front of people. Public speaking is not my thing. I get terrified. How the fuck do you become a trial attorney when you freeze up?”
Relief washed over me. I’d expected something worse. “I would never have known that about you.”
“I come across as cool and confident, I know. I have everyone fucking fooled.”
“It’s actually quite common, a fear of public speaking.”
“That’s why my father volunteered me to present him with that award in the fall. I made the mistake of opening up to him about my issue once. So now he wants to throw me into the fire.”