Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 106797 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106797 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
“I love you,” I whispered. I didn’t say it much to my mom, but I did — I loved her fiercely. She gave up more than I would ever know for me as a child, and I wasn’t sure I could ever repay her. Thinking of Rhodes and how easy it was for his parents to just abandon him when they were in a similar situation, I realized how truly lucky I was.
“I love you too, sweetie. So,” she said with a pop, wiping the remaining tears from her face and replacing them with a smile. “Tell me all about what you’ve been up to since I’ve been gone.”
Though I wanted to ask more questions about her and Dale, I knew that wasn’t what Mom wanted — so I humored her. I told her about Willow’s program and about the going away party Saturday. I caught her up on the latest developments in Lost, which made her giggle. I filled her in on every stupid, boring detail of my life in the last few weeks.
I left out everything about Rhodes.
Later that night, Rhodes texted me that he was outside. I didn’t ask questions, I just carefully snuck out of the house, nearly running to the end of my street where Rhodes had dropped me that night after the fair.
He was leaning against his bike, one foot kicked up on the side, arms crossed, head down, and only the moon revealed that he was there at all. He almost blended with the darkness. I guess in a way, he kind of was darkness — and I was just a tea light candle trying to illuminate him.
When I reached him, I slowed my pace, hesitant to get too close. From the way he was acting earlier, I wasn’t sure the purpose for his visit — was he breaking things off? Did we even really have anything to break off?
His eyes lifted slowly to mine when I stopped in front of him.
“Can I take you somewhere?”
I didn’t answer. I simply grabbed the spare helmet from where he’d strewn it across the seat, strapped it on, and straddled the leather. Rhodes climbed on in front of me and sparked the bike to life, and then we were off.
We drove for almost an hour, and I could tell we were a ways from Poxton Beach. When he finally slowed, we pulled into a small park, and Rhodes quickly parked before smoothly climbing off the bike and helping me do the same. He held my hand in his as we made our way to one of the picnic tables beneath a small pavilion.
The park didn’t have any lights, and in all honesty, it was more worn down than any of the ones I’d ever played at as a child. The dark red paint was chipping off the tables and benches, two of the swings were missing a chain or a seat, and the jungle gym was in desperate need of a facelift.
I sat on the edge of the picnic table Rhodes led us to, but he remained standing. He stared across the park, his hands tucked into his pockets, his bright eyes wider than I’d ever seen them before. I waited for him to drop the bomb. I could feel it, he was ending it — he was ending us. I wasn’t even sure what we were, but I knew with more absolution than I’d ever had in my life that I didn’t want it to end. Not yet. Not like this.
He blew a breath out of his nose, and that breath lay suspended between us. I held my own, afraid of tainting his, afraid of what that breath meant.
“We used to come here every Sunday when we were little.” Rhodes’ arms flexed, and he tucked his hands deeper into his pockets. “Our foster parents always had their card games on Sundays, and the house would fill up with strangers, smoke, and booze. So Lana and I would ride our bikes out here. My old house is right up this road,” he said with a nod toward the street we were just driving on. I noted how he called it a house, not a home.
“We would play around for a while, but eventually we always ended up on the swings. I tried to swing higher than her, and I always fell on my ass trying.” I smiled, but Rhodes’ expression hadn’t changed. He licked his lower lip and swallowed, shaking his head. “Today is her birthday.”
His words hit me softer than they should have because I didn’t quite understand their magnitude. I’d lost my grandmother when I was really young, but I had no idea what true loss felt like. Staring at his face as his own loss engulfed him, I was sure I’d never want to.