Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 88501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
“Aren’t you going to at least say hi to Pierce?” Sawyer teased.
“Happy birthday, Simon,” I said.
While he was still half pressed into his brother, Simon turned his head toward me and mumbled a quiet “Thank you” before straightening. His gaze skimmed over the decorations, and he huffed.
“I told you I didn’t want a stupid kid’s party, Mom.” As soon as the words were off his lips, Simon ran up the stairs and disappeared down the hall, seeming to stomp the entire way.
Elizabeth closed her eyes and sighed heavily. “I got one out of his teen years and now the second one is entering them. It never ends.”
Sawyer slung an arm across his mother’s shoulders. “But with me you don’t have to worry anymore.” She threw him a skeptical scowl. Sawyer motioned to me with his free hand. “I’ve got Pierce to always keep an eye on me. He won’t let me do anything stupid.”
“You’re very lucky to have Pierce. I hope you realize that.”
“Maybe, but his life would be so boring without me.”
That was true. According to Sawyer, I wasn’t adventurous enough. I took the safe and easy path. Sawyer always went off road, straight into chaos every chance he got.
With some muttering and chuckling, his mother sent us to get settled in our rooms. The plans for the weekend were low key. Tonight was dinner with the immediate family, along with cake and presents. On Saturday, we were going to a place that had an indoor go-kart track and arcade games. Then, that evening, we would attend the symphony. We would have enough time on Sunday for brunch ahead of our flight to Boston. Not my first choice for a weekend when I had an enormous pile of reading and essays ahead of me, but I’d do it for Sawyer without complaint because he really was the best friend I’d ever had.
As the night passed, Simon’s mood improved, and he got out of his grumpy sulk. He was happy to see his brother and even dared to throw a smile or two in my direction. Dinner was enjoyable. Sawyer took after his father with his boisterous, larger-than-life personality, while Simon was more like his mother. However, they all knew how to sling teasing comments back and forth.
As the cake was brought out, I was reminded that Simon wasn’t a typical teenager. Instead of a cake with pirates or superheroes, which would have fit Sawyer perfectly, Simon had gotten a cake elegantly decorated in musical notes and shaped like a violin. Sawyer had said that Simon had started playing music at the age of two by pounding on the keys of their piano. But as soon as he could hold a violin, he’d switched instruments. All his energy went into the violin, almost to the detriment of his other studies. It was only after his parents had threatened to take it away that he’d begun to pay attention in class.
Despite Simon’s groans and begging, Elizabeth led them all in singing “Happy Birthday,” which left Simon’s face beet red. He pulled his T-shirt up to cover most of his face, but when he lowered it again, he was grinning.
It was a nice time, and Simon seemed to appreciate that Sawyer had left college just to spend the weekend with him. I escaped early with the excuse of needing to get some reading done. I didn’t want to intrude on their family time.
A hall clock chimed the midnight hour, and I slipped down to the kitchen to brew a cup of coffee. I had at least another hour of reading ahead of me, but the words of the very dry book were blurring together.
The rest of the house was silent. Sawyer had poked his head into my room around eleven to announce that he was crashing. He had a nine a.m. class on Fridays and took a nap afterward so he could party that evening. However, our flight to North Carolina had disrupted his routine, forcing him to stay awake.
“Hey, Pierce.”
I almost jumped out of my skin at the soft sound of Simon’s voice. I spun from where I’d been leaning on the counter, my eyes on the coffeemaker, to find Simon standing on the other side of the island wearing a T-shirt that looked as if it were reserved for sleeping.
“Oh! Hey, Simon,” I said. “What are you still doing up? Isn’t it past your bedtime?”
That earned me the darkest glare Simon had ever directed at me. “I’m thirteen now. I don’t have a bedtime on weekends. My parents let me stay up as late as I want.”
“Shit,” I hissed, wincing away from him. “Sorry. My bad.”
“Whatever,” Simon mumbled under his breath, his sullen gaze dropping to the marble countertop.
“Thanks for inviting me to your house for your birthday. I had a nice time tonight.”