Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 100612 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100612 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
For real. I wasn’t expecting a Cinderella situation to happen here, but let me just say, you really came in clutch in the most surprising way. Dropping a guy on my lawn while I was reading a book??? Talk about a random way to find a date! Easton isn’t the classic knight in shining armor—he’s better. He’s real.
Oh, and about the height thing? Well, you nailed that one. He’s the right amount of tall to make me feel cute in the best way. So thanks for that.
We’ve been spending a lot of time together since we graduated—more than I ever thought we would. It’s funny how life works: We were two people with lockers next to each other who BARELY spoke…and now we’re practically inseparable.
I can’t imagine my day without him.
Weird, huh?
Macy says it’s fate. Marcus says we have him to thank, because if Easton hadn’t had to ask Maddie Miller on a date, she never would have said no and he wouldn’t have pulled the senior prank; ergo, he wouldn’t have landed in my yard.
Honestly? I’m team Marcus LOL.
Don’t tell my bestie.
It’s like the world decided to slow down just for us, letting us soak up every moment of this summer before life pulls us in different directions. SIGH!
Easton leaves for college a few weeks before I do—you probably already know this, but he has a hockey scholarship, and athletes usually get to campus first. I’m bummed he’ll already be gone the week I leave for school, but our campuses are only an hour apart and I’ll have a car. Anything could happen!
Anyway, just wanted to say thanks for the assist. You really do know what you’re doing up there.
Sincerely,
Harper
I finish my send up to the Man Upstairs and glance at Easton, lying on a deck chair. His tan arm is slung over his eyes, squinting up at the sun because he forgot his sunglasses at home. Again.
Of course he did, because I forgot to remind him.
Truthfully, if you had told me a few months ago that we’d be lying here in the sun, in the middle of summer, holding hands at the community pool so his sister can play…I would have snorted.
Snore. Ted.
Lo and behold, here we sit with the sun beating down on us; it warms my skin, and I soak it in. I’d probably be able to take a midday nap if it weren’t for the water splashing, the kids yelling, and the lifeguards’ whistles constantly blowing. Still, it’s the perfect background noise on a hot day.
My eyes roam.
I try not to stare at Easton napping in his swim trunks, but it’s hard. I can’t stop sneaking peeks at the way his muscles shift and relax. Hockey has done his body good…
Meanwhile, Phoebe lies on the other side of me, fidgeting like she can’t sit still for more than a few minutes.
Still wearing her goggles from her earlier dip, she wants to swim—and she’s determined to drag her oldest brother into the pool with her, coughing dramatically and sighing in hopes he’ll spring out of his chair and cannonball into the water.
No such luck.
He’s lazy AF.
“We’ll swim soon,” I tell her, smiling as she digs through the cooler and pulls out a juice box.
“Promise?” Phoebe’s big puppy-dog eyes blink behind the hot pink goggles.
Easton lowers his arm, rolling toward his sister.
“We’ll go in, Phoebs. Just give me like five more minutes.”
We’re having a lazy day, but I have a feeling it won’t stay that way for long.
His sister pulls a pouty face. “You said that ten minutes ago.”
Crap. He did say that…
Nothing gets past Phoebe.
I pull out a juice box too and crack the straw out of its clear plastic wrapper. What a blissful day; nothing feels rushed—no stress, no homework, high school in our rearview with college ahead of us. These are our last weeks of freedom, and he wants to spend them with me when he’s not at the ice rink practicing?
Are you serious?!
Best summer ever!
I stab the straw into the container, sip some apple juice, and close my eyes.
Ahhh.
Phoebe shifts next to me. I can feel her puppy-dog eyes boring into my soul and know her mind is probably spinning—the child never stops talking or thinking about what she’ll say next.
She and I have spent a lot of time together, too, since prom, and we’ve developed a…sort of sisterly bond? If you can call it that. She’s as close as I’ve come to having a little sister and I’m the closest she’s come to a big sister, and, well, she loves tagging along with Easton and me.
“Harper?” she asks.
“Yeah?” I turn to her, squinting through the glare of the sun, straw between my lips.
Phoebe wiggles on the deck chair and watches me through her goggles before pulling them off her face and tossing them on the ground. Wet hair sticks to her cheeks as she studies me with an expression that’s a little too serious for a seven-year-old at the pool.