Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 139088 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 695(@200wpm)___ 556(@250wpm)___ 464(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 139088 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 695(@200wpm)___ 556(@250wpm)___ 464(@300wpm)
After having decided—around one o’clock in the morning, when I’d petered out on crying jag number three, and before crying jag number four hit—that my twenty-four-hour grudge would be doubled, I ignored them all.
But I was me, and I knew me.
I had to stew. I had to let my feelings run amuck.
Then I could get a handle on it, assess the situation and deal with it after the feelings had burned themselves out, and I could handle it like a grown-up.
And now we were at karaoke.
The whole crew was across the room at their conglomeration of tables. All the Hottie Squad (save Cody and Jeff, who I knew from their absence were manning the control room, or on dates), the Angels, Tito, Tex and Nancy (sadly, we wouldn’t hear the dulcet tones of Titus, because I knew he was invited, but he hadn’t showed).
And there I was, across the space with Dream and Byron.
This was case in point why I let my feelings run amuck so all the illogical, emotion-fueled bullshit could run its course.
Because even though it was me who warned them to back off, and it was me who agreed to do whatever-it-was-I was currently doing with my sister and Byron, I still felt like I’d been singled out.
Adrift from my people.
Lost.
Then again, Raye had sided with Cap and Knox, and my bitches had gone about business without me, so it wasn’t that irrational I was feeling cast out.
Dream and Byron were sitting beside each other, me around the table from them, and at first, this was a little awkward, for all three of us.
But as the affliction of hearing people with very little talent massacre good songs (also shitty ones) and the AAHS wandered in—forming their big crew that did not include me, but did include Knox—Dream and Byron noticed, they scooted their chairs closer together, bent their heads to each other, and started whispering while frequently casting glances in my direction.
As for my part, I drank.
Around about song seven, Dream scooted her chair over to me.
I turned from watching a guy destroying Kenny Loggins’s kickass “Danger Zone,” something I was thinking should be classified as a felony, to my sister, catching Byron across the table, watching me with concern on his face.
Oh yeah.
The dude thought of me as a little sister.
“What the hell is going on?” Dream whispered in my ear.
“Don’t worry about it. Have your date,” I said to the stage. I felt her stiffen at me blowing her off and hastened to add, “I’ll tell you later.”
“None of them have even come over to say hi,” she noted, sounding, even being heard over the “Danger Zone,” more than mildly miffed.
Dream, angry on my behalf.
Wonders never ceased.
I turned to face her. “Yesterday, Raye and I had an argument, then Knox and I had it out, and you know my ability to hold a grudge.”
Weirdly, something soft hit her face when I said that, before she replied, “Yeah, I know all about that.”
And…
Holy crap.
From that expression on her face, it hit me so hard, I felt winded.
But not in a bad way.
She and I had history. We knew each other’s habits, personalities and foibles.
And Dream was glad she knew those things about me, even the bad stuff.
Giving it a second to think on, I was glad I knew not only that she was at her prettiest when she was doing something for or with her kids, I was glad I knew she had a chip on her shoulder and the ability to eat the utter grossness that was vegan parmesan cheese.
Because she was my sister.
There might be things we needed to get down to so we understood each other better…
But we had the foundation to understand each other.
Another shocker.
This meant the world to me.
“I’ll get over it, and we’ll get back to regularly scheduled programming,” I assured her.
“I take it with how he’s completely ignored you tonight, your conversation with Knox wasn’t a good one.”
Oh yeah.
Then there was that, the Knox ignoring me thing, which might bump this up to worst day ever number three.
Knox didn’t even scan for me when he limped in (and his limp was even less prominent, I noticed as I idiotically watched every step). And since he sat down, although I’d stolen glances, I hadn’t once caught his eye or felt his attention on me.
So I guessed when I said we were over, he heard me, and he was all in.
My stomach curled into itself just thinking that.
“No. It wasn’t a good one,” I answered Dream’s question.
It took her a second to work up to it but work up to it she did.
“The kids go to their dads’ Sunday afternoon. Once they’ve been picked up, we’ll meet somewhere for a drink or something so you can tell me what happened.”
Wait.
Did my sister just ask me on a sister date?