Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 107673 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107673 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Josh’s mom frowned, having the exact opposite reaction. “You were supposed to build up to that, young man.” She crossed her arms over her chest, giving him a critical stare, as she leaned back in the booth.
“Ah…Mom, you know I’m not very good at followin’ directions.” By then I was beside Josh with both our parents waiting for my response. Josh gave me no time to think of a better excuse as his arm draped around my shoulders, landing on the aching one. I tried to move out from underneath him at the same time Josh reached out, patting—no, hitting—at my chest. “Everybody’s gonna help him make the right decision. Trust me.”
“Keep your phone on,” my mom said as if it was perfectly normal for me to go do anything without Scott by my side. “He’s just gone through so much.” Oh God. I felt the walls closing in on me. “He’s such a good boy, but he’s withdrawn, and I don’t know why…”
All the customers in the restaurant had to have heard too. I pivoted around, and started for the door, needing to get the heck out of there since everyone was going to think I was a charity case. I pushed through the entry door with Josh on my heels.
“My dad said you could bus tables. He heard you’ve been all around lookin’ for a job today. My advice is to find somethin’ else. He’s shorthanded and we all gotta do way more than the jobs we’re assigned with no extra money.” I grabbed my bike, and Josh opened the exterior door, letting me through first.
“I can meet you there.” As far as I was concerned, I’d rather walk home pushing my bike. “I need to change. Probably shower. I’ve been digging through junkyards today. Let’s call it done.”
“Put your bike in the back of my truck,” Josh said. “It’s not a problem. I gotta pick up Chae anyway. We’ve been goin’ out for about a year. She’s never ready on time. You’ll probably have to wait for her.”
If Josh had to go to my house anyway, I’d be saved from a four-mile walk. Then greatness popped into my head and I spurted the idea before thinking it over. “I don’t wanna play football anymore. I’m not goin’ to. It’s a hard no for me. My dad wasn’t acceptin’ of my decision. That’s why we moved here.”
“I’m not gonna say I’m not sorry to hear that,” Josh said, stopping at the other side of the truck’s bed. “The team could use the help. You’re nationally ranked as a freshman. You’re badass. I’ve watched some of your footage. And I get Sea Springs isn’t even on the map. I also heard your dad’s a massive douche bag, and he’s been real hard on you, so I get why you don’t wanna play. But I’m not the only one assigned to talk to you. Stick with me and I’ll steer ’em clear.”
Emotion welled, clogging my throat for finally having someone understand even if it was only a small portion of my reasons why.
“Come on, Brooks. Whatever’s got that look on your face ain’t worth the effort. You’ll meet lots of people at the party. You can just chill then I’ll take you home.”
Maybe he was right. The imaginary neon sign flashing above my head, telling people I’m gay wasn’t a real thing. Nobody had figured it out yet. With more time under my belt, would it even matter?
I didn’t know the answers. Chilling seemed cool. It’d be fine. I guessed.
Maybe.
“What’re we doing here?” I asked my niece, Joy. She drove, I sat in the passenger side seat taking in the entire frightening scene.
For as far as my eye could see—which wasn’t that far since it was late and dark outside, was a piece of carved-out land that Joy kept calling a pasture, surrounded by a thick bunch of forestry. More a u-shape if the sides of the u were abnormally long.
Parked pickup trucks circled a grassy patch, their headlights illuminating a decent size crowd in the middle. No one was distinguishable, they all looked the same. A sea of vintage blue jeans, old T-shirts, and assorted baseball caps. Nowhere close to the mid-thigh plaid shorts, flipped-up collar of my polo, and deck shoes I wore.
I quickly lowered my collar and tugged my shirt free of the waistband. It’s all I had to help blend in. On second thought, I lowered the visor and ran my fingers through my styled hair in hopes of appearing more rumpled.
Joy pulled in next to the other cars haphazardly parked with no discernible organizational patterns. It was like a crazy free-for-all out here. What happened if someone parked up front had to leave early? Did every vehicle have to move?
“I feel like this is a really bad idea,” I added, mentally retracing my steps on how I got wrangled into this in the first place. A locals party? I wasn’t “local.” Neither was Joy. More importantly, nobody here liked us.