Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 105846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
“But how can that… How? Two months ago, she seemed like she was—”
Dr. Brock interrupts me, a gentle hand settling on my shoulder. “Bennett, she’s hurting. Every day now…she’s hurting.”
Tears start deep in my chest, seizing and stealing the air from my lungs. My knees give out, and before I know it, my ass is on the cold tile of the hallway floor and Norah’s body is behind mine, her knees just barely holding my back off the floor too.
Dr. Brock is squatting in front of me, and other hospital employees rush around behind him, yelling to grab any manner of things I don’t give a shit about. He steadies my shoulders enough that he and Norah manage to prop me up against the wall. Deep in my face, he finds my eyes and forces me to hold his. “You let yourself feel this, Bennett, okay? You take your time, and we’ll be here while you do. We’ve got you.”
Everything Summer’s spent seven years building in my soul shakes and rocks along with the surface of the earth. A world without her isn’t one I’m comfortable with knowing because it isn’t right.
She deserves to grow old and happy way more than a troubled, fucked-up bastard like me.
I reach for Norah, who settles into my arms with ease. And I cry like a baby—I can’t stop myself.
“What do I do, Norah?” I breathe into her hair. “What am I going to do?”
She wipes at my face with shaking hands, locking her warm brown eyes onto mine so hard I can feel her soul. “We’re going to love Summer with all that we have until we can’t anymore. That’s what we’re going to do.” I nod, but she steadies my head with the clamp of her hands, and I look back into the deep comfort of her sparkling eyes. “And Bennett, we’re going to let that little girl live. She’s dying,” she says, her voice cracking so hard on the word I feel it in my feet. “But right now, we’re going to let that little girl live.”
My whole being hurts, but I hear the words Norah says as if they’re written on my soul. The time for protection is over. Time management is over. These next few days…or weeks…they deserve to be the absolute brightest days of a dwindling summer.
“Dr. Brock,” I manage. “I think it’s time to take my girl home.”
He nods. “I’ll get it set up, Bennett.”
Norah’s right. With what little time we have left, Summer is going to goddamn live.
32
Norah
Saturday, August 28th
“Norah…”
“Norah!”
“What the—?” I open my eyes to find my sister hovering over my bed, her bright-green gaze meeting my sleepy one as she uses two hands to shake the ever-loving shit out of my shoulders. It only takes a few beats for the slightest sense of panic to seize my chest. “Is everything okay? Oh my God, is Sum—”
“Everything and everyone are fine,” she cuts me off before adrenaline has the chance to kick in. “But you’re going to have to move your ass, or else we’re going to be late.”
“What are you talking about?” I groan and rub at my eyes. When my vision un-fogs and I can make out the window, I see the morning light coming in through the dusty blinds looks terribly early for my taste. Like the sun is also just waking up from her slumber. “What time is it?”
“A little after seven.”
“Seven?” I nearly shout. “I thought you said the coffee shop was closed today.”
“It is, but it’s the first day of the Fall Farmers Market.” She says the words like they actually make sense. Like a farmers market is a good reason for this horrendously early wake-up call.
“Fall?” I question as I sit up and grab my phone from the nightstand. “It’s August, Jose.”
I tap the screen and find three missed message notifications from Summer. I’m already smiling as I read the first message that reads, we shud get pink purses.
After we left the hospital Tuesday, during the drive home, Summer mentioned that she’s always wanted to have her own iPhone with a glittery pink case. Bennett reminded her that she had an iPad—with a glittery pink case—because it’s easier for her to use, but she wasn’t having it.
“Everyone has an iPhone,” she said. “It’s way cooler than an iPad because it fits in your pocket.”
It shouldn’t be a surprise that once we got her settled at the house, Bennett handed me his credit card, and I was more than happy to run up to the only cell phone store in Red Bridge to make her iPhone—and glittery pink case—wish come true.
Ever since then, whenever I’m not with her and Bennett, she’s been sending me messages.
“Hello? Earth to Norah? Did you hear anything I just said?”
I look up to find Josie staring at me and realize I, in fact, haven’t heard a thing she said. “Mind running that last thing by me again?”