Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 97053 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97053 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
“I never really thought about it like that. What I like about New York is that there’s so much diversity. From the arts, to the food, to the people. Every day is different.”
“Potentially,” I say.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, life is potentially different. But I bet most days look similar to most people. Even you, I imagine.”
He stares straight ahead, taking the turns of the roads slowly, like someone who hasn’t lived here his entire life. “You’re right. I guess I haven’t looked at it like that.”
“I’m not saying that’s a bad thing,” I say. “It’s the same for most people. You can tell that at the farm, most days follow a routine. Obviously things change depending on the season, but the core remains the same.”
“That’s true of my life in New York, too. I guess I just haven’t seen it. In New York, I’m surrounded by the possibility of things being different, but they rarely are.” He pulls his eyebrows together, like he’s thinking really hard. “You’re right. It’s just perception.”
I reach out and push my hand through the hair at the back of his neck. “Did I just destroy your vibe?”
He smiles and shoots me a look. “It’s rare that anyone ever challenges me to look at things in a new way.” He hums, like thoughts are racing around his head and he’s trying to sort them into some kind of order. “But you always manage it.”
“Here we are,” I say. “Just turn in here.”
We pull up in the parking area for the falls. There’s just one other car here.
“Do you get many tourists?” Jack asks, as we get out of the car and make the short walk to the edge of the pool.
“We get some RVs passing through in the summer that stop off on the way to somewhere else. It’s a steady trail that bolsters local business a little. But the falls still feel like they belong to the people of Star Falls. It’s still the place where most of the town had their first picnic, their first kiss, recovered from their first heartbreak. There are far more spectacular falls in the state of Colorado, so people naturally gravitate to those. I’m kinda pleased we get to keep these for ourselves.”
He turns to me, a warm smile on his face. “Sounds like these falls have seen plenty of stuff.” He slips his hand around my waist.
“I’m sure of it.” I toe off my shoes. “I’m not swimming, but we have to get our feet wet. I mean, it’s the law around here.”
“Wouldn’t want to break the law, now, would I?”
Jack rolls up his jeans. I wore a skirt, knowing this is where we’d end up. Jack follows me as we round the edge of the pools that the falls create. “This is my favorite spot,” I say, coming to the large, flat stone near the entrance to the creek. “It’s the perfect position to take in the falls.”
The surface of the stone is just big enough for us to both sit. So we sit down and put our legs into the water.
“Shit,” Jack says. “The water is freezing!”
I can’t help but laugh. “Gilded cage, Jack. Gilded cage. If you can’t even endure the Star Falls pool in October, then I don’t know what to do with you.”
He dips his hand into the water and then flicks it at me, and I can’t help but think how differently we grew up.
“I don’t know what I would have done as a kid, if it wasn’t playing in this pool and messing about in the creek. If I was at home, Dad would always rope me into something at the farm. Some of it, I didn’t mind. Fruit picking can be fun.” I laugh at the memories of those summers when Dad would send us off to pick. “Bray and I would always make ourselves sick eating strawberries at the beginning of each season. Dad would be furious that we were eating more than we picked, so he’d send us off to do something else. And then by the end of the season, you couldn’t pay us to look at a strawberry.”
“Strawberries are your favorites?” he asks.
“Yeah. Always. When I was a kid, I had strawberry-covered sheets and even a lamp shaped like a strawberry. For six years straight, I dressed as a strawberry for Halloween.”
“That’s adorable,” he says.
“I was twelve the last time. My classmates didn’t think it was so adorable, let me tell you.”
Jack lets out a deep belly laugh. “An adorable little geek. I love it.”
“Says the guy who knows the set of Twilight like he lives there. What about you?” I ask. “What was your go-to Halloween costume?”
“I’m not sure,” he says. “Superheroes probably. My parents always threw a huge party at the house. The nanny would take me trick-or-treating when I was little. And then I got too old—or too proud—to go with the nanny once I hit eleven or twelve. I wasn’t allowed to go out on my own, so I just stopped going.”