Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 62266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 311(@200wpm)___ 249(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 311(@200wpm)___ 249(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
I know on my part it had meant nothing, but I was also doing it so that Z’s attention would be on me either way. It hadn’t gone unnoticed that many women at the wedding too had their eyes on Z. So I kept him busy so he wouldn't notice, but I don’t think the man misses much.
"You're not interested to see who is asking?"
No, but I am interested in pissing Z off. It's a terrible thought, but I'm feeling rather petty at the moment. I could also use an ego stroke after he took my virginity and then bounced without a word, and I'm not counting that bullshit note. A note I have tucked into my purse to pull out whenever I start to soften to thoughts of Z. Who has now stopped trying to call or text. Another thing to add to my list of shit he’s done or is actively doing to piss me off.
"Maybe," I shrug. "What's going on back home?" I change the subject.
"We have dinner plans tonight with War and Tova."
"Cool." I pause, hoping they'll give more. "What about everyone else?" I ask, growing impatient, which is a major problem of mine. I'm sure that links to my poor impulse control.
“Ronan is Ronan, and I haven’t heard from Z.” Mom tilts her head like she’s thinking. “Have you?”
“No, but he’s been busy,” Dad responds. It takes everything in me not to ask with what. I really try to keep it in, but I know it’s only a matter of time before it comes out.
“With what?” I blurt out. Gah, yeah, no control.
“Personal stuff.”
“Personal?” I repeat back. What the hell does that mean? Aren't we his family, so we’re the personal things in his life. Unless he has a secret life we don’t know about. Which is possible. I try not to let my thoughts go down that path, but it’s impossible. What if he has someone special in his life? Tears sting my eyes, but I keep a smile on my face because my parents can see me.
“Z often drops off. We can reach him if need be, but I’m pretty sure he has a double life.” Mom laughs. I don’t find it funny.
“Does he really?” I didn’t know that, but then again, I haven’t been back in the States for long stretches, and when I was, things were always going on, and everyone was there.
I assumed he was in the city while I was gone. I hadn’t thought about him being elsewhere and me not knowing about it. But bet your ass he always knows where I am. Tracks my every damn move while he’s out there doing whatever the hell he does. Such bullshit.
“Yes.” Mom shakes her head. “Maybe your father should see about marrying him off next.”
Right, well. I’m done with this conversation. I thought seeing and talking to my parents would make me feel better, but through no fault of theirs, I feel even worse. I’m either going to burst into tears or scream, which will give me away.
“My phone doesn’t have much battery left.” It’s the quickest way to get off the phone.
“Cosima, don’t leave the house without a full charge,” Dad scolds me.
“Sorry, I know.” I shake my head, pretending to be annoyed with myself. “But I’m going to get off and head back there now.”
We say our I love yous and goodbyes before I end the call. I spot Marks finally coming out of the store with empty hands.
“What the hell?” I ask, dropping my phone back into my purse.
“Shh,” she hushes me, walking right past me too. Okay, then. “You’re supposed to follow me,” Marks half-shouts over her shoulder.
“Right.” I rush to catch up with her. “What’s happening? Were they out of stock?”
“No, I got it.” Marks glances around before lifting the front of her shirt to reveal a pregnancy test stuffed into her pants. She's speed-walking up the hill that leads back to our villa.
“You stole it?”
“I didn’t steal it.” It certainly appears that way. “Okay, I kind of stole it.”
“Speed-walking makes you appear guilty,” I point out, making her slow her steps. Marks is used to doing most of her crimes behind a computer screen, clearly. As for me, I might have had a rebellious phase and stolen random things when I was a kid. I got in so much trouble when I was caught.
That led to my brother Ronan teaching me how to do it better. I’d only been ten at the time, but it’s those childhood, soul-bonding moments you remember tenderly.
"Is that what took you so long?" I ask when we're halfway up the hill.
"Do you always wear heels?" Marks asks, glancing down at my feet. "How do you not trip on these cobblestone roads?"
"I can do anything in heels." To prove it, I lift on my foot like a ballerina and do a spin.