Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 107673 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107673 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
“Thanks, Dad,” I mumbled and tried to drop the blinders I’d been wearing for several days back in place. My opinions on the dishonesty and manipulation I’d watched happening for days had to stay at a distance. I had no control over any of this.
“Get in,” Jon called and opened the passenger side door.
Back in the moment, I decided if they let me keep the car, I was going to have a badass ride.
Where the outside was designed to be seen, the sleek interior, with butter soft Italian leather, spoke to the innermost primal guy inside me. My dream car. Everyone’s dream car. I dropped into the bucket seat as if it were crafted for my body.
The new car smell mixed with the fine scent of rich leather and ocean breeze, became my new favorite scent. My fingers reached for the dash as the prancing horse logo on the steering wheel had me making a promise to myself: To do whatever it took to always own a car like this.
“You’re damned lucky. This is badass,” Jon murmured in my same awe.
“I know. I’m not sure what I did to deserve it.” My hands roamed as far as I could reach on the dashboard.
“I do. Reservations have doubled. The reviews of the resort are changing. People are finally willing to risk the wrath of the picketers to stay here. The female teenage demographic that drives their parents’ spending, and decision making, don’t have a care about the hometown businesses. People magazine wants to interview you...”
I wrinkled my face at the horror of such an idea.
Jon’s tone rang with humor. “Everybody’s talking about you. Dasham’s so polite. Dasham’s such a hard worker. Dasham’s such a good-looking guy.”
I tuned him out, pushing the key into the ignition. With the twist of the wrist, the engine roared to life. My father gave me a double thumbs-up. I waved and shut the door.
“Where are we going?” I asked, buckling my seatbelt.
“Anywhere as long as you do a U-turn and drive past the photographer,” Jon instructed, his thumb hooking over his shoulder. “Grandad said you could drive a stick.”
“I can.” And I did for the best ride of my life.
As far as miles went, I’d put far too many on my new-to-me bike today. I’d been everywhere, all over the older part of Sea Springs, having the best day reconnecting with the area.
I liked it here. Sea Springs was full of hard-working people, largely middle class. They cared for one another and the community they lived in. No one had much money these days which was the reason for my good day. Just about everyone had a mini junkyard in their backyard. Whether I knew them or not, once I introduced myself, they let me dig through their piles and take whatever I needed to help make my bike run a little smoother.
Now I had different goals for the day. I peddled harder down the main strip, determined to make it to The Pizza Box before my mom arrived. If I was able to get the extra time, I wanted to call Scott and tell him about my new cell phone then hit the small arcade inside the restaurant. Ninja Assault was my jam. I held the top score in our main burger place in Alabama. I needed to leave my mark here as well.
Honestly, I missed Scott, and the way we pushed each other. The competitive side of my personality came from my father, but his came with a mean edge.
Why was I thinking about him right now? Ruining my perfect day.
I reaffirmed my commitment to never be like him. A goal I intended to keep.
What kind of father doesn’t call their kid on their birthday? The same one who refused to pay child support, regardless of the judge’s order.
Stop thinking about him.
Before my thoughts dropped my mood any lower, I scoped out the intersection across from The Pizza Box. I quickly popped the curb on the yellow light that turned red before I ever got the back wheel on the street. I pedaled faster when one of the cars gave a loud, long honk. My fingers lifted from the handlebars in apology when I spotted the red Ferrari in the next lane. They’d begun to drive forward before coming to a sudden halt a few feet from the crosswalk.
There was no way to explain what happened next. The world slowed to an almost standstill, sending my senses into a frenzy. The neurons in my brain suddenly hyper-focused. The beat of my heart thumped slowly yet thunderously inside my head.
My body turned to a mass of tingles as if a million butterflies prepared for flight from inside me. I felt everything. The warm breeze, the faint squawk of seagulls in the distance, the smell of fresh dough baking in the pizzeria. My whole being fixated on one of the two people sitting inside the car.