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)
She shrugs and her expression, for once, is pained. "I honestly don't know Laz. I guess he just didn't love you like a good father should. But you know it was for the best, didn't you? It was the best for the both of us."
I don't know what to believe anymore. This has thrown me for a loop.
I feel like everything I know about myself is being rewritten, all my history, and I don't know what kind of person I'll become once it's all been processed.
I’m broken.
Utterly. Fucking. Broken.
"Hey," Noah says, his voice cautious.
I look up to see him hanging awkwardly by the entrance to the kitchen, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, his purple backpack slung over his shoulder, hair wet from the shower and now a bright purple to match the bag. It takes me a few moments to snap back to this reality, the reason I'm here to begin with.
Right. Noah. Gay pride. Marina.
Marina.
She sure picked the wrong fucking guy to fall in love with.
I clear my throat. "Hey. Ready to go?"
"I just made you tea," my mother protests.
"I lost my appetite," I tell her with barely a glance in her direction and I stride past Noah, heading for the door.
Once outside I have this urge to run. Just start running and don't stop until I'm on the ground, panting, wheezing, completely spent.
But I don't. Noah holds me back.
"What did I just interrupt?" he asks, trailing after me as we head to the car. "Or do I want to know?"
"You don't want to know," I tell him. And now, more than ever, I'm acutely sorry for Noah. Not only does he have to have Daryl as a father, he has to have my mother as his stepmother. If she's like that with me, her own flesh and blood, I can't imagine what it feels like to not be related.
“Are we going to your girlfriend’s first? I need to get ready,” he says.
“Yeah.” My voice sounds distant, even in my own head.
“Are you sure you’re okay, dude?” Noah asks. “You’re vampire pale right now.”
I manage to swallow. I need to snap out of it. I’m doing this to support Noah. It’s supposed to be a fun day as well as an important one. It means something to him.
But I’m not sure this is something I can sweep under the rug. The scars are too deep now. It’s a feeling, a sharp pain, that I can’t quite escape.
My father didn’t love me.
My father was afraid of my love.
My love scared him.
My love wasn’t good enough.
I’m not good enough.
I’ll never be good enough for anyone.
When I pull up outside of Marina’s, I barely even remember driving. One minute I was at Noah’s, the next I’m parking outside of Havisham’s.
Speaking of, she’s peering through her blinds at me. You’d think after all this time with Marina, nearly every day, she would be used to me.
Does it matter? The thought comes into my head. You won’t be here long.
And then the thought leaves, leaving me rattled.
“Hey guys,” Marina’s clear, beautiful voice comes ringing out and I look to see her on the other side of the gate, poking her head over and grinning. “Come on in. Hey Noah,” she says to him. “Love your hair.”
“Thanks!” he says brightly.
We walk through the gate and instinctively I bend over and kiss Marina on the cheek.
“You okay?” she asks me, hand on my chest, peering at me intently. “You look ill.”
“I’m fine,” I tell her, not meeting her eyes. This is not the time for the discussion. Perhaps there will never be a good time for it. Probably for the best. She doesn’t have to know that I am, deep down, inherently unlovable. I’m sure she’ll figure that out for herself soon enough.
“He’s being a weirdo,” Noah says.
“Well he’s my weirdo,” Marina tells him with a proud smile. “That’s why we work so well together. If I have a bit of advice for you Noah, it’s you need to find your weirdo. Once you do, everything else falls into place.”
“I’m not actually on the market for a weirdo,” Noah says smartly. “But I do want to find my own brand of weird.”
“Find your weirdo, embrace your weird,” Marina says. “It’s all good. Now let’s get you inside and have a little fashion show. How many outfits did you pack?”
Noah rolls his eyes. “Only one. I’m not interested in wearing feather boas. I just want to feel a part of something bigger than me.”
“You have a smart brother, Laz,” Marina says to me but her smile is starting to falter, just a bit. I know it’s because she’s picking up on what I’m putting out there. It takes a lot of strength to return the smile and pretend that everything’s fine.
But I try. I try for her sake, I try for Noah’s. I tell myself that the conversation I just had with my mother didn’t mean anything. It wasn’t anything that I didn’t know deep down. It was just out in the open and I should be glad, happy even, that the elephant in the room was finally dealt with.