Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 71726 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71726 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
“Okay, so... I emailed him. Corbin Wale. I’m not sure what made me do it, but I wrote him...a fan letter I guess. Told him how much I loved Two Moons Over and asked him a couple questions about writing it. I’ve never contacted any artist like that. I dunno what I was thinking.”
Simon’s smile was soft.
“You emailed him because you’re ready to write your own Two Moons Over.”
He said it so simply, and with such certainty, that Jack just stared at him.
He hadn’t told anyone about what he’d been working on the last few weeks. He hadn’t even quite acknowledged it to himself. He’d told himself the pages and pages of drawings were just playing around, just getting back into the habit of drawing. He hadn’t even used his sketchbook, just done them on the back of scrap printer paper and then stuffed them in a drawer.
But he supposed the project was emerging whether he’d admitted it to himself or not. That morning he’d woken before dawn and hadn’t been able to fall back asleep, not—for the first time in a long time—because of insomnia, but because the ideas were coming so fast he had to stumble to his desk to get them down before waking life swept them away. He’d need to start keeping a sketchbook on the bedside table like he used to.
“I think maybe you’re right,” Jack said slowly, mind on the stack of papers in his drawer and how later he would spread them out and see—really see—what he had.
“You can tell me when you’re ready,” Simon said. His hot blue gaze was steady and Jack felt like he was glimpsing the steel that lived inside Simon but rarely showed.
“I will. I just need to...think about it a little more.”
Simon reached for his hand when a shadow fell over the table.
“Jack!” Vanessa said. “Christ, it’s been an age. I thought maybe you perished of a rare broken-leg complication that also impaired one’s ability to operate a mobile telephone.”
She said it as lightly as she said everything, but Jack knew she was hurt by his withdrawal over the last year. He owed her an explanation and an apology. But not right now.
“Hey, Van. Nope, I’m miraculously healed.”
He stood to show her his un-casted leg, and gave her a hug.
“This is Simon. My boyfriend.”
He reached out a hand to Simon, but it was awkward with the table in the way and Simon gave an abortive rise, then sat back down, cheeks flushing.
“This is Vanessa, one of my oldest friends. She’s one of the ones I was just telling you I skipped prom with,” Jack said, hoping Van would take the bait.
She shot him a look that said she one hundred percent knew what he was doing and would capitulate for the sake of his poor, shy boyfriend but expected a full explanation stat.
“Psh, prom,” Van said. “Prom’s for losers. We ate pancakes. Pancakes are for winners.” She winked at Simon. “Right, babe?” she asked Rachel, who’d come up beside her.
“That pancakes are for winners? Absolutely right. Hey, Jack. Good to see you drag yourself down from the castle to mingle with the commoners.”
Jack introduced Rachel and Simon and saw the glance Rachel and Van exchanged. Yeah, he’d definitely be getting a phone call soon.
“So what do you do, Simon?” Van asked.
“He’s a graphic designer,” Jack said. “And he’s amazing.”
“That’s really cool, Simon,” Van said, glaring at Jack.
Jack gave Simon an apologetic look.
Simon glanced at Van and Jack could see he’d slid his hand into the pocket where he’d put the boutonniere. Jack pledged to make him any number of talismans if they helped him feel grounded. Loved.
“Jack’s trying to p-protect me,” Simon said, voice shaky but there. “I get all w-w-weird with new p-people.”
Van and Rachel instantly softened.
“People are the worst,” Rachel pledged. Simon smiled.
“Well, we should hang out, the four of us,” Van said. “Then we won’t be new people anymore.”
She smiled warmly at Simon and Jack felt a rush of gratitude for her friendship. He hadn’t been a good friend the last year, but he wanted to be better.
“I’d really like that,” Jack told her.
Simon nodded and smiled, even though he was looking at the table.
“Okay, we’re leaving. I’m so glad I got to meet you, Simon,” Van said. “I’ll talk to you later.” She pointed at Jack and Rachel winked at him.
They swept out and Simon closed his eyes and breathed through his nose. Jack slid a hand to his knee and left it there.
“You o—” He cut himself off, remembering what Simon had said in the car. “Sorry.”
“I’m okay.” He took another deep breath. “No, really, I am.” He opened his eyes and gave Jack a weak but genuine smile. “They seem really nice.”
“They’re great. I wouldn’t call Rachel nice exactly, but she’s awesome. She teaches third grade. Her students all live in fear and worship her.”