Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 111165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 556(@200wpm)___ 445(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 556(@200wpm)___ 445(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
“You’re right.” I’m impressed she remembers. Then again she’s always been my biggest cheerleader when it comes to Everything’s Ruined. “But they wanted to get a jump on it. It’s more for publicity and connections. I guess they want me to meet people.”
“Well that’s awesome. I’m so happy for you.”
“So will you come?”
“You honestly want me to?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
She doesn’t say anything for a moment. “I’ll have to see about funds, I’m not sure I can swing it right now.”
“Marina, you’d be covered.”
“You don’t have to do that.” Then she gasps. “Oh my god, if it’s in New York, then obviously Jane is coming right?”
Oh right. Jane.
“Well, I suppose, I haven’t talked to her yet but…”
“Of course she’s coming. New York is like a few hours by train from Boston. Oh my god, this will be so cool. Are you sure you can cover me?”
“Yeah, the publishers said I could take someone. Don’t worry, they’re paying, not me.”
“Oh this is so exciting. I’ll have to get a new dress. I’ll get to see Jane. I have to invite Naomi too, make it a total girl’s trip.”
“Naomi?” I repeat. Not that I have anything against my stepsister or Naomi, but this has suddenly morphed into something else entirely. I had wanted to invite Marina to New York. Just Marina. Show her off as my date. Maybe…get a hotel room together.
But obviously I’m being a fucking loon right now because that’s not on her radar whatsoever. It’s gone from a potential romantic weekend away to a bloody girl’s trip.
“Laz?”
“Huh?”
“It’s okay if Naomi comes, right? I mean I know I just invited her and all and it’s cool if you say no. I know for sure you wouldn’t have to pay for her. It’s just with what happened with Robert and now they’re going through a divorce, I think it would be good for her.”
“Yeah. Don’t worry about it. She can come. The more the merrier.”
Marina practically squeals. “Okay, great! Yay! I’ll give her a text and let her know. Do you want to invite Jane yourself or should I?”
“Go ahead. It’s your girl’s weekend right now,” I say flatly, wondering if she’ll pick up on my tone.
She doesn’t. The one time she’s not overly intuitive. “Okay I’ll do that. And Laz…?”
“What?”
“I’m so proud of you.”
I swallow hard, a strange warmth radiating through my chest as her words sink in. She’s the only person I’ve had in my whole entire life that has told me they’re proud of me. I’m not sure I’ve realized it until just now.
“Thanks,” I whisper, my voice coming out choked. I clear my throat and say, “Go tell Jane and Naomi the good news. I’ll text you the details later.”
“I will. Bye, Laz.”
I hang up and stare at my phone for a few moments, just letting every bloody thing overwhelm me. Usually I run from anything like this, anything deep and complicated. I run by way of my pen. Writing is an outlet, a way to process, a venue for my feelings to live so I don’t have to face them myself.
But today, it feels too new, too unique. This isn’t something I’m used to, this sliver of rejection that’s working its way through my skin. I’m sure Marina meant nothing by it and there’s absolutely no way that she could have known my plans, my wants. It’s not like I came out and said, “Hey, I was thinking you could come to New York for a romantic weekend, we could share a room. I want you so fucking bad.”
Perhaps I should have said that but it’s too late now. This is happening and maybe it’s for the best. I’ll get to see Jane this way, which is nice since I only saw her briefly two years ago when she came here for Christmas. And I’ll have a whole entourage with me while I navigate the publishing world, so I don’t have to do it alone.
But who needs an entourage of people when I only need one.
The weekend comes in a flash and before I know it, I’m picking up Marina from her house to drive us to the airport.
I haven’t laid eyes on her in two weeks now and the sight of her walking towards me steals the breath from my lungs, causes my blood to turn to mercury.
She’s a fucking angel.
It doesn’t hurt that she’s wearing a long white sleeveless top over jeans, her blonde hair billowing out behind her and shining in the sun.
I immediately get out of the car to help her with her luggage, a carry-on hardcase that’s been adorned with a bunch of Palm Trees & Honey Bees stickers.
“I like it, is this a new logo?” I ask, peering at it as I put it in the trunk. It’s better I’m staring at the suitcase than her because then I’ll act like a total idiot and that’s the last thing she wants before a “girl’s trip.”