Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 77992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Once again, the guilt threatens to drown me.
“Hollis is the most resilient kid I know.” Aunt Karen smiles fondly at me. “And if anyone gives you grief, I’ll give them detention.” She shrugs and chuckles as though she’s teasing, but we both know she’s not. I’m not sure having my aunt as the principal is a good thing or a bad thing.
“I really will be okay.” I give them both a reassuring grin. “Four months and I’ll graduate. I’ve got this.”
As they set to preparing breakfast for my little sisters, I flip through my phone. Dad canceled our phone plan, so Mom got us new ones once we got to Hood River. I had to input all my old friends and text them from my new number. Some haven’t responded back and I don’t know what to make of that.
This will just have to be a fresh start. I’ll skim through the next four months unnoticed and when I go off to college, I can be the Hollis I was meant to be. Guilt-free and gay. At Hood River, I plan to be invisible Hollis.
“My hair won’t act right,” Charlotte wails as she stomps into the kitchen. Her blond hair is sleek pulled back in a ponytail and doesn’t look bad, so I don’t know what her deal is.
“You look beautiful,” Mom assures her.
“I look gross and no one will want to be my friend.” She turns on the waterworks, making my mom’s shoulders hunch with defeat. It kills me.
“Toughen up, Char,” Aunt Karen barks out. “If you go into middle school crying, they’re going to make fun of you. Your hair is beautiful and so are you. That’s enough.”
Mom winces at Aunt Karen’s harsh delivery, but she doesn’t correct her. This only makes Charlotte cry harder. I don’t remember being so emotional in the eighth grade.
“My iPad is broken,” Penny complains, walking into the kitchen shoeless and still half asleep. At twelve, she’s more worried about her stupid apps than school.
“Your iPad is going to go into the trash if you don’t get ready for school right now,” Mom threatens, pointing upstairs.
Penny pouts and stomps off.
“Right,” I say with a sigh. “Who wants a ride to school?”
“I’ll take the girls to their schools,” Aunt Karen says. “Just get yourself settled in. When you get there, ask for Ms. Sommers. She’s the counselor and will have your schedule. If you need anything during the day, come see me.”
After kissing my mom and hugging my aunt, I slip back to my bedroom. It’s Aunt Karen’s office, but we were able to add a twin bed to give me my own space. My mom took one of Aunt Karen’s guest rooms and the girls share the other. Since this is all my fault, sleeping on a twin crammed behind a computer desk feels fair.
Especially since I kept my car.
I’m both relieved and sickened. On one hand, it’ll be nice driving my 2018 Ford Mustang GT Coupe to school and not having to rely on my aunt to get me there. On the other hand, though, it was a gift from my father, which leaves a bad taste in my mouth. When I turned eighteen last fall, he paid cash for it and put it in my name. Some rite of passage being a man bullshit. Whatever the reason, it kept him from being able to take it away when we left. Insurance is fucking expensive, but I’ll get a job and worry about that later.
“Everything will be fine,” I mutter to myself as I glance at the mirror Aunt Karen hung on the wall in an effort to make the office feel more like a bedroom. At least I look nice. It’s not like I’m some loser going to a new school who’ll get bullied. I’m Hollis English. All-American boy with a happy smile and a friendly attitude. Teachers love me. Students want to be me.
It’s fine.
Totally fine.
Though I’d wanted to go for comfort—a hoodie and sweats—I decided on something more reasonable to make a first impression. Dark slacks. Dress shoes. Button-up shirt. I’d thought about grabbing a tie, but then wondered if it would seem too preppy. At the last minute, I decide preppy is fine if I want my teachers to take me seriously so I can get the scholarships I need. I can’t rely on Dad anymore. I snag a deep purple tie from the closet and quickly put it on like my father taught me. With my dark blond hair styled neatly and my approachable smile affixed, I deem that I look better than good for my first day of school.
Plus, my tie nearly matches my car, and that’s a small win I’ll take for the day.
Letting out a heavy sigh, I grab my gray pea coat, my black leather Michael Kors messenger bag, and the keys to the ’Stang.