Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 128430 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 514(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128430 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 514(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
And they wonder why I used to drink heavily . . .
“My mom wouldn’t know. I’ve been here for days, and the only contact we’ve had are a family meeting with the attorney, a lunch where she was mortified that I’d wear jeans to the Chez Cab, and then her telling me ‘don’t ruin my future’ when I said I’m considering options outside of Haywood or New York.” I take another drink to calm the wave of anxiety crashing in my chest. “So my mom isn’t the best judge of what’s going on with me.”
“Don’t be too hard on her. At least she cares. It could be worse.”
“How so?”
“You could be poor.” Unblinking, she stares at me, unable to break into my psyche despite the concerted effort. Failure sets in, and she turns her attention to the cut crystal glass, running her finger over the design.
I’m still staring at her. How does that phrase leave her lips without her own conscience judging? I think about it, though, and I was just like her. I’m not much different now other than I’ve had my eyes opened to a new perspective thanks to Story. It doesn’t make me a changed man, but I think I’ve used the fallback of my family’s wealth as an excuse for too long.
“Anyway, you know there’s a dress code at Chez Cab. You wore jeans to upset her.” She shrugs and then takes a sip. “And it worked, so you can’t be upset that she fell for your tricks. Christmas is tomorrow. Maybe Santa will bring you what you wished for and turn your sour-puss attitude around.” She keeps going as if I’m participating in this conversation. “But only if you’re nice and stay off the naughty list.”
“What’s the fun in that?”
“You never change.” The snowfall catches her attention, and her gaze is stripped from me to find interest outside the large doors that lead to the expansive patio.
I don’t mind the reprieve. “You mean, I never learn.” Since she’s in no hurry to leave, I move to the couch and sit, crossing my ankle across the other leg.
“Same thing.” She looks back. “What’s going on with you?”
Still not able to wrap my head around her thoughts or actions, I ask, “Why do you listen to them?” She’s twenty-two and has looks, makes great grades, and comes from money. “Why do you follow the ridiculous rules of this town? Not laws. Rules that our parents not only made up but also forced us to follow?”
“I follow the rules to win.” Said like a Stepford wife.
“You’ll lose. I promise you, Camille. You can be more than a wife to some rich guy who puts you in Connecticut locked into that life by a white picket fence while he sleeps with his mistress in the city.”
“You make it sound so bad when I’d be okay with that.”
I can’t get through to her. I don’t know why I continue to try, but I’m not ready to quit just yet. “You’ll get the husband, the kids, and a hefty bank account but lose the rest of your soul along with it.”
Her jaw drops. “The rest of my soul?” She sighs, finally some semblance of a human reaction. “We always were so different, but a fight with a neighboring town kid who can’t afford to take a swing at you was never a fair fight to begin with.”
“What are you saying?”
“You’re untouchable to most because of your last name. Even when it came to your teenage angst. You may not be using your fists on some guy who looked at you sideways, but who are you really fighting? Who’s the enemy in this scenario? Your family who cares about your future? Or yourself?”
The words hit home, making me uncomfortable sitting here, but I stay knowing unless I’m willing to walk out that door and never come back, I’m a hypocrite. I have been given everything, and I’ve treated it like the privilege is nothing. Thinking about Story and her mom, learning about the situation and her dad. Her experiences have shaped who she is, but she’s doing better than where she came from, and she leads by example. I just need to follow.
I put my foot on the floor and shift forward. “I’m trying to figure shit out on my own.”
“Your life is good, Coop. Look around. I don’t know what you want from this life, but you’ve been given everything you could ever want. This could all be yours one day.” Coming closer, she sits on the couch next to me, too close for my liking. Lowering her voice, she says, “If you hate being here that much, one day you can sell everything and move away. But for now, play the game and get what you can. Just take what you want.”