Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 87152 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87152 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
I don’t know how long we stand there in silence, staring at pearls like we can’t believe she is here. It takes my mind another moment to process everything. She is here. She is getting chemo. Emma is sick… like really sick.
“How did we not think of this before?” Easton whispers next to me, breaking the silence.
“I don’t know.” We should have put it together sooner, but we didn’t. Even with me looking right at it, the thought of her having cancer is so unbelievable, so far-fetched. Emma doesn’t act like she is sick, and she has done everything in her power to hide it. Why?
There is a heavy weight on my chest as I take a step toward Emma’s chair. Careful not to wake her, I take the seat next to her, while Easton sits down on the other side. I have the urge to take her hand, but instead, I just look at her beautiful face.
She looks so peaceful right now, which is going to change when she realizes her car is gone. Fuck me. We’re the biggest fucking assholes in the universe. Guilt crushes me, my stomach churns, and I want to punch myself in the face. Not just for the car, for everything.
A few minutes pass, and we just sit there like the idiots we are. I’ve never felt so small in my life. This whole time we have been giving her shit while she has to deal with this, whatever this is.
I can’t stop looking at her, suddenly realizing how fragile she is. Worry overcomes me, and something I don’t understand settles in my chest.
Before I can figure out what exactly it is, Emma’s eyes flutter open, and she looks around in confusion. Her sleepy gaze lands on me and my brother and shock paints her face. I already know she is about to give us some bullshit excuse, still trying to lie to us, but that shit is over.
From now on, I want the truth, even if it’s the last thing I get.
19
EMMA
This is it. My most dreaded nightmare is coming true. Exactly what I have worked so hard to avoid. Maybe I’m still sleeping. Maybe this is my subconscious playing tricks on me.
Especially because they both look so concerned. They wouldn’t be this concerned in real life. No, they’d probably take pictures and send them to everybody in school. For all I know, they did. There’s probably a photo of me with one of their dicks close to my mouth.
It would have to be them, too, wouldn’t it? They would have to be the ones to find me like this. Don’t they have anything better to do than haunt me? I’ve been completely naked in front of these two, but I’ve never felt more exposed than I do now.
And I’m trapped. I can’t even run away.
“What the hell is all this?” Easton cocks his head to the side, looking at the equipment, looking at me. I can almost see the wheels turning in his head. Pretty soon there’s going to be smoke coming out of his ears. Did I break him? In my head, I can imagine Preston having to box him up and take him back to a store with the receipt.
He scowls at the tiny laugh that bursts out of me. “Oh, it’s funny that we give a shit?”
Actually, now that he mentions it… “No,” I decide, shaking my head slowly when reality comes back into the picture. “No, this isn’t funny.”
“What are you doing here? What is all this?” Preston’s voice is surprisingly soft and heavy with concern. “And no lies this time. We want the truth.”
“Because this is all kind of obvious,” Easton adds. “We want to hear it from you.”
Even now, even when I know I’m caught, it’s amazing how my gut instinct is to lie. To just pretend there’s nothing unusual about this. Like it’s something I can brush aside, no big deal. Even now, when they see me sitting here hooked up to the machine, I’m desperate to cover it all up with a clumsy lie. “I… I mean…”
“Come on,” Easton urges. “It’s not a hard question. What are you doing here? Is this what it looks like?”
“What does it look like?” Jesus Christ, this is pathetic. Stalling like this. I’m being so obvious about it, too. It’s just that I’ve spent so much time being afraid of this moment, and now it’s here, and I don’t know what to do. I look at them, and I hear the whispers of so many supposedly concerned friends who only wanted something to gossip about. I see the pity from people who treated me like a cause instead of a person. It never hurt before, but somehow it would hurt coming from them. Like the final, ultimate insult.
“Obviously, you think we’re stupid,” Preston mutters. I’m not going to argue with that. “You’re really sick, aren’t you?” When he pulls his chair closer, my heart drops. It’s not a mean or cruel gesture, but for some reason, it brings frustrated tears to my eyes. I blink them back fast and take a shaky breath. Okay, they caught me. The longer I drag this out, the worse it’s going to be, so I might as well get it over with. Besides, they have eyes. They can see what’s in front of them.