Total pages in book: 22
Estimated words: 21429 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 107(@200wpm)___ 86(@250wpm)___ 71(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 21429 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 107(@200wpm)___ 86(@250wpm)___ 71(@300wpm)
He glances down at it and nods. “Yeah…tomorrow.”
My whole body is buzzing as I lean up and kiss Walker on the lips. “God, I wish I didn’t have to go back in there.”
Walker glances at my house and smiles. “Yeah, so do I.”
“I wish we could just go back to the lake together.”
“Me too…” he replies.
I kiss him again and walk up the path to the house. I reach the door, but before I go in, I turn back and give him a wave.
“See you tomorrow!”
Walker waves back, but instead of waiting for me to go into the house, he turns around and walks away into the encroaching shadows.
It struck me odd at the time, but I later understood. Walker never called, and I never saw him again.
Skylar
One year later…
“So this is it. Your one year anniversary!”
I glance over at Mary and grimace. “Don’t remind me,” I groan, stuffing a fistful of Hot Cheetos into my mouth.
“Bitch, you already know that’s what tonight is,” she counters with one of those commiserating smiles only a very close friend can give you. “Isn’t that why we’re here eating all kinds of food we know is going to go straight to our asses? And not in a good way?”
“Mmm-hmmm,” I mumble back. “But that doesn’t mean I want to talk about it.”
“Oh, yes you do,” she laughs. “You want to talk about how much of an unbelievable asshole that guy is.”
“No, I don’t—”
“Yes you do,” she continues. “You want to talk about how he’s not even remotely as hot as you thought he was that night, not even close to as charming, not as hung as you remember, and you want to finally admit that Walker is a stupid name that sounds like he’s either a vampire or a serial killer!”
I sigh so hard I collapse back onto my side of the coach and stare up at the ceiling and close my eyes.
“I can picture him right now, Mary…and he is gorgeous…”
“Skylar, stop—”
“He was so charming, his dick was so big—”
“Oh, like you’d know! You’ve only had one!”
“And you admit it!” I blurt it, sitting up and pointing my finger in her face. “Vampires and serial killers are both totally hot!”
Mary opens her mouth to argue with me but stops, frowns, and nods.
“Okay, you’ve got me there…”
“Ah hah!”
“But that doesn’t mean that I’m going to let you spend tonight reminiscing and crying over the guy you spent one night with and lost!” Mary sets her cookie dough ice cream aside, leans in, and takes me by the hands. “Tonight is about forgetting and moving on, Skylar. Okay? That’s the pact we made last night, remember?”
She’s right. That’s exactly what I said when I asked her to come over tonight and help me get through tonight. I knew I wouldn’t be able to handle my and Walker’s one year anniversary on my own…
What am I thinking? What anniversary?
So I called her. She was more than happy to come have a girls’ night with me, not only because she’s an amazing friend, but because it meant she could make up an excuse about me being sick and having to take care of me to her boss and call out of work.
Mary is a waitress at an all-night diner that I started going to when I needed to have some time to myself. After a week or two of coming in, we became friendly with each other and soon after that became friends. I guess it’s ironic that a girl from the “lower classes” that all the girls at my school would never even associate with ended up being the nicest, closest friend I’ve ever had in my life.
“Okay,” I say, taking a deep breath. “Tonight is about forgetting and moving on. But it’s not going to be easy, so bear with me, okay?”
“Hey, I’m all about being a bear.” She smiles. “Just call me Mary the bear.”
“And just call me Skylar the…”
“Crier?” she suggests. I reply with a playful slap to her shoulder. She laughs. “You know it’s a shame we’re both a couple of goody-two-shoes. Tonight would be a whole lot easier with a bottle of vodka and some grape Black Flies.”
“Trust me, I don’t even think I could drink the memory of that night away,” I sigh. “Not without drinking myself to death.”
“Hey!” she says in a warning tone, pointing a finger at me. “What’d I say?”
“Okay, okay,” I reply. “No more Walker talk.”
Mary smiles and turns on Episode 1 of Riverdale. We’ve decided to start over from the beginning (when it was good) and be a couple of bums in our pajamas while we pig out on junk food and I do my best to forget about that life-defining night.
So far, it’s just not working.
I waited and waited for him to call. But days went by, and it became increasingly clear that it just wasn’t going to happen.