Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 58069 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 290(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58069 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 290(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
The suit I’m wearing is a hand-me-down from Mr. Shaw. I’d maybe wear Henry’s, but as genetics go, I’ve got my birth-father’s height, and Henry’s clothes are too small for me. But Shaw’s got impeccable taste, and I’m decked out head to toe in Burberry.
Kat comes down the staircase in cornflower blue to match her eyes, and she’s the most electrifying scenery on this whole estate.
“Ready for official Fairmont high, Mr. Cliffton?” she asks, smiling.
I march to the bottom of the grand staircase and offer her my elbow like we’re cultured royalty. But Kat and I are the anomaly in this whole fucking town. We share a hybrid hatchback when Shaw, with a little encouragement, would have sprung for a luxury car for each of us if that’s what we’d wanted.
“Who’s driving?” she asks as she takes my arm.
Henry has already left as it’s his last year, and he’s walking the stage today to accept his diploma (and hopefully enlisting and moving far, far away.) Henry drives an Audi because, of course, he does. He is not an anomaly.
“Can you drive in heels?” I ask Kat. I also want to ask her if she can walk in them as I’ve never seen her wear anything besides Wellies, beat-up converse, waders, or flip-flops and barefoot during the summer months.
She kicks them off, picks up the white heels, and shrugs. “I can barely walk in them, so I’ll put them on for pictures to please Dad.
I wouldn’t have Katelyn any other way. She’s as wild as the Switchgrass and Pinweed down by the beach. She’s had her long brown waves blown out and doesn’t have a single hair out of place. Different from her floppy ponytails and wisps escaping every which way. But Kat is striking in an evening gown or waders. The girl is a natural, wild beauty.
We hold hands on our way to the car. Freshman year is in the books, and officially Fairmont Sophomores. Katelyn will finally be the only Shaw at school.
We’re both moving up with honors, whereas Henry’s diploma was probably a favor phoned in to the dean from a desperate Mr. Shaw.
“At least he’s graduating,” Kat hums as she fastens her seat belt.
“What are the chances he’ll leave Wainscott Hollow? Or Montauk, for that matter?” My wishful thinking isn’t so hidden in my voice.
Kat looks at me across the car roof before she chucks her heels on the console and climbs into the driver’s seat. “He’ll never leave, Heath. Henry will stay and leech off my father until the day he dies. Who’d hire Henry? His work ethic is abysmal, his skillset is below basic, and his entitlement complex is out of this world because he’s so disconnected from reality. He’ll stick around and party like a college kid who never got into any colleges, sleep like a teenager, and suck his inheritance from my father bit by bit until Dad’s wealth runs dry. Henry will never grow up, and he’ll never move out on his own.”
I’ve got a mind to punch my fist through the window, but I nod my head instead because it’s obvious she’s right.
“He might graduate out of Fairmont today, so we won’t see him at school, but he’ll never graduate Wainscott Hollow. We’ve got three more years before we make our escape and get the fuck away from him.”
Kat drives aggressively through the village, which is already showing signs of summer tourists descending. Life would be idyllic if it weren’t for Henry and his constant threat of sabotage. Even when we don’t see him for days, I stop and remind myself that Henry is violent and dangerous so I don’t let my guard down.
We make it to the Fairmont auditorium just a few minutes before the awards, and graduation ceremony starts. Kat accidentally leaves her heels in the car, so we detour to her locker on arrival to salvage a pair of flip flops. Attempting to cross the stage in heels may have been a bit too ambitious for Katelyn Shaw, anyhow.
I get called to the podium to receive an award for highest honors, and Shaw claps and bellows from his seat with tears in his eyes. Kat gets called later, another prize for her science project on tadpoles in brackish water bogs on the sound. Old man Shaw seems beside himself with emotion and claps us both on the back when we return to our seats.
“I couldn’t be prouder. I got two of the greatest kids this school has ever seen,” he gushes. It’s obvious Shaw is talking about Katelyn and me and leaving Henry out of the equation.
Henry walks the stage to receive his diploma toward the end of the alphabet when our hands are already sore from clapping for douchebags. Henry jumps and yanks down the overhead banner that reads “Congratulations, Graduates.”