Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79332 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79332 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
“We all know our place, don’t we?”
Colby lowers his head, and Micky clears his throat in the corner.
“This isn’t the best time to be having this conversation,” he says softly. “There’s a lot of change happening right now. We need to be unified, or we won’t get through this.”
“We are unified,” I say. “You know I love you both more than I love myself. I’m just pointing out something that’s important. Because if any of our fucked-up ways of being together as triplets rub off on how we interact with Ellie, then we need to deal with it separately. She doesn’t deserve to get in the middle of our issues.”
“That wasn’t what it was about,” Colby says solemnly. “And I love you too, bro. I guess I just got carried away. She gets me in the sack in a way that no other girl has ever gotten me before, and I wanted to revel in it in case it was the last time I get to feel that way with her.”
Outside, a car pulls noisily into the lot, breaks screeching, and wheels spinning. Laughter bursts from inside it. A bottle smashes against the asphalt, and my attention is drawn to the open door. When I look back, Colby is watching me.
“You can always be yourself, Colby. Especially around us. I hope Ellie will want to take another step with us. It was on the tip of my tongue to dare her to go on a proper date with us, but she’s on her way to deal with the fallout of our parents’ failing relationship. It wasn’t the time.”
“So, we wait,” Colby says, glancing into the corner of the room to check if he has Micky’s agreement. He nods, and Colby turns back to me.
“We wait,” I say softly. “Looks like we might do a lot of waiting today.”
An hour later, we all jump into the car and make the quick journey back to our family home. On the way, I message Ellie asking if everything is okay. All I get in response is a sad-face emoji, and my heart sinks. After our confrontation, I have little to say to my brothers, so the journey is quiet. As we’re pulling up outside the house, dad calls to check up on us.
“We’re going to stay at Molly’s Motel,” Colby tells him. I guess it makes sense. We paid for the room so might as well use it.
“We can do better than that,” dad says, but Colby ignores him. “If you want to join us, we’re in room one-zero-three-three.”
Dad pauses for a second and thinks better of pushing an alternative plan. “Okay. I’ll be there in an hour.”
“We’re getting stuff from Ellie right now,” Colby adds. “But you need to resolve this, Dad. We’ll talk more later.”
Dad clears his throat, and for the first time, he seems chagrined.
Ellie must have been looking out for our car because she appears in the doorway, carrying a large bag. Wearing sliders, with her hair scrapped back, I can tell from her red eyes that she’s been crying. As I jump out of the passenger door, all I want to do is run up the driveway, pull her into my arms and tell her everything’s going to be okay. I want to hold her head against my chest so that she feels safe and shelter her from anything negative that the world wants to throw at her.
I just want her to know that I’ll always be there for her if she wants me to be.
But I can’t do any of that. For all I know, Lara’s in the window, watching everything.
Ellie’s in the firing line enough. She doesn’t need me to make it worse.
“Here,” she says, reaching the sidewalk where I’m standing. “I think I got everything.” She hands me the bag and takes a step back, clutching her arms around her body, her hands half hidden in her sleeves. The additional distance she feels she needs to put between us stings.
“How’s your mom?”
“Not good,” she says. “I’ve never seen her like this before. Well, not for a while.”
“Are you okay?”
“No.” Her voice is flat, and her dark eyes are shadowed. I reach out to rest a hand on her arm. It’s the most I feel I can do to communicate what I need her to know, but she steps away.
“I should go back in,” she says blankly.
“We’re going to do our best to make things right,” I tell her. “I know it seems hopeless right now, but we’re going to make it better.”
“What would make it better, Seb?” Tugging the sleeves of her sweatshirt over her hands, she twists the fabric. There’s something wounded and childlike about her I’ve never seen before.
“My dad admitting he’s the king of the douches and begging for forgiveness.”
She shrugs. “My mom’s not a forgiving person. I’m surprised that you haven’t worked that out yet.”