Series: Cobalt Empire Series by Krista Ritchie
Total pages in book: 234
Estimated words: 226965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1135(@200wpm)___ 908(@250wpm)___ 757(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 226965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1135(@200wpm)___ 908(@250wpm)___ 757(@300wpm)
He hugs me, his hand rising to the back of my skull. The same way that I comforted Audrey at the funeral. I notice it, a subtle similarity between me and him, and my heart skips.
Breathing out the tension in my body, I just hold on to my dad for a long moment. When we pull back, he cups my jaw and nods to me. “It doesn’t matter which direction your mind takes you, you’re still a Cobalt. You’re still my son.”
It almost breaks me.
And for the first time this morning, I cry.
23
HARRIET FISHER
It’s a slow, rainy Sunday night at the End of the World when Ben tells me his pet cockatiel died. The 2002 version of Spider-Man plays on the oversized projector screen with Tobey Maguire web slinging his way through New York, and Ben rubs a wet rag over the sticky bar counter. He says he’s not crushed by Theodore’s death, and he doesn’t know why. When his childhood bird, Pip-Squeak, passed away, he struggled to leave his bed for seven days straight.
I wish I had the right words to say.
Death isn’t something I’m all too familiar with. I never had a pet growing up. Never had a relationship with my grandparents. Never had a friend or loved one who passed away unexpectedly…or expectedly. I’ve been lucky. But I’m also planning to become a doctor, and death will likely be a large factor in my life.
“Maybe you’re in shock,” I tell him as I slice limes for the dwindling container in the mini fridge under the bar.
“Maybe I’m just checked out,” he replies in a defeated tone. “When I gave Theodore to Audrey, I’d already said goodbye.”
I think about my mom. In my head, I’ve said goodbye to her. I don’t think I’d be devastated if she passed away. “I can understand that. Some goodbyes feel more final than others.”
He eyes me curiously, but we don’t expand on the topic because a rush of drenched college students stumbles into the empty bar. They shrug off sopping rain jackets. “Cool, Spider-Man is on tonight,” one says.
The next Sunday When Harry Met Sally… plays to the delight of many patrons. I enjoy the cycle of New York centric films. West Side Story, Annie, Paris is Burning, and Big.
Bartending on the weekend rapidly becomes a highlight of my week. Then soon, it tops as my favorite activity. I can admit it’s because of Ben. Getting to spend time with him outside of class still makes me weirdly giddy, and as we’ve grown closer, I feel myself anticipating it. Counting down to Saturdays and Sundays to work alongside him.
In three weeks, he’s perfected the art of a good beer pour, and his whiskey sour has even outclassed mine. Whenever I fear I’ve accidentally ticked off a customer, he slides in with a charming smile and all the right words.
He smooths over my bumps. My hard edges. But never makes me feel as if I need to apologize for the gristle and the bite. It’s easier being myself when he’s around. Attaching myself to this feeling means attaching myself to him, right?
At times, it scares me to want Ben around this much, but fuck, isn’t this what life is about? To find and surround yourself with people that make living feel less difficult.
The End of the World goes from a sleepy dive bar to a hot spot for twentysomethings once news around Manhattan Valley’s campus gets out that the Ben Cobalt periodically works here.
Ben says it’s a miracle his brothers still don’t know since he told his little sister the truth, and especially because his parents learned from his bodyguard. Without even realizing it’s a secret, Rose and Connor have kept it for him.
I wish I had that relationship with my mom.
If I did still talk to her, she probably would’ve typed and printed out my deepest secrets and taped them to every lamppost in the city. She has a way of always being right. Of making sure I’m wrong. Of letting me know I will never ever be better than her.
Aunt Helena says it’s because Hope hates my dad so much that she can’t see past the half of my DNA that belongs to him. Punching me down is her way of socking it to him, I guess.
Luckily, my busy college schedule casts out most thoughts about her.
August bleeds away in a fever dream of homework assignments, undergrad research, volunteering at the hospital, first exams of the semester, and bartending. Ben comes over to my apartment too many nights to count. He helps make flashcards for my anatomy class, quizzes me on the circulatory system, and reads my essay for my application into the Honors House. I listen to him vent about whaling and learn way more about microplastics than I ever have in my life. He doesn’t urge me to change my ways, but with knowledge comes great responsibility (semi-thanks goes to Spider-Man), and I decide it’s better to switch my plastic Tupperware for a glass one I find at a thrift store.