Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 99545 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99545 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
I remain quiet—no need to continue talking about Kaylee’s roommate when the roommate isn’t around.
Maybe she’s home and you’ll get to see her…
Knock it off, Jack.
That’s shitty.
Bringing one girl home to chat up the other? Real shitty.
“So I have a question…” Kaylee breaks another long silence in the cold, dark night. “When your dad dies, who becomes the earl? You or your brother or what?”
Uh.
What?
Did she seriously just ask what happens when my father dies?
“Pardon?” I know I heard her—but I’d like more clarification.
Kaylee’s little laugh fills the air. “Ha. I was just wondering what happens when your dad dies. Like, how old is he?”
Christ, is she being bloody serious?
I never would’ve known by looking at her, but it seems Kaylee is a bloodthirsty little thing, more mercenary than I gave her credit for if she’s asking questions like this already. She and I haven’t even been on a date yet. Come to think of it, I’m not even sure if I want to take her out, and now this?
No, I’m not sure I want to take her out even as a pity gesture though she’s been sniffing around.
Kaylee couldn’t be making it any more clear.
I’m not sure how to reply to her question about when my father is going to die, and I’m not sure if I should dignify it with a response because it’s a very rude thing to inquire about—no one in Britain would ask such a thing.
You’re not in Britain, Jack…
You’re in the States.
That thought sobers me.
I haven’t been that terribly homesick since moving here, but it hits me now. The guys on the rugby team have been great mates, but I spend so much time by myself I’m beginning to wonder if it could possibly be healthy, if I can stand being this isolated for as long as I need to be here to get an American education.
Lonely.
It’s a word I don’t think about very often other than those mornings I’m standing at the bathroom sink washing my face to get my day started. I’ve found myself glancing up at my reflection, looking into a set of tired eyes, wondering if there’s anything behind them.
Do I recognize myself anymore?
You should’ve stayed home, Jack. You should never have left.
But then I wouldn’t have known, would I?
I spent most of my life believing I didn’t need anyone, mostly because I spent most of my life at boarding schools without my family, typically only seeing them during holidays. And yes, I have my brother—but we never saw each other all that often, passing like two ships in the night, never really in school at the same time, and our courses didn’t ever overlap.
He would leave and I would begin, and that’s the way it has always been.
Listen to me, I’m a rhymer now.
“My father is in his prime.” We’re turning the corner at the end of the block and I automatically head straight, easily remembering that the house is on the other side of campus. “He won’t be passing any time soon.”
“Passing.” She thinks. “Oh, you mean dying.”
“Yes, I mean dying.” I’d roll my eyes at her if she wasn’t so utterly naïve.
“You said he’s an earl?”
“No, I said he’s a baron, and the title passes along to my brother, Ashley.”
Kaylee halts in the center of the sidewalk and faces me, literally doing a timeout signal with her hands. “Pause. You have a brother named Ashley?”
What has gotten into her tonight? She’s being rather crass, questioning everything I say and blurting out offensive questions as if it were her due.
“My brother’s name is Ashley.”
She turns back toward the street to continue walking. “That’s so weird.”
“How is that?”
Kaylee shrugs. “It’s a girl’s name.”
“Is it?” I’m quiet as I mentally compose a list of gentlemen’s names that are traditionally feminine, but only in America. “Lauren. Stacy. Shannon. All the names of great men in Britain.” I pause for dramatic effect. “Ashley.”
“You’re cute.” Her tone is dismissive, and I want to continue beleaguering the point but let the subject drop. There is no sense in arguing with someone who is uninformed and does not seem to want information, who only wants to flirt.
I clench my teeth.
We stroll along, and I’ve given up on polite conversation—I’m not entirely sure Kaylee knows what that is given that she’s fixated on my father dying and me inheriting a title I’ll never inherit.
Unbelievable.
Her smile might make it worth the cringeworthy moments.
Kaylee’s hand is back around my bicep, wrapped there for safekeeping as we walk back to her house, and I see it in plain sight, set amongst the administration buildings.
“What’s the history behind this house?”
She shuffles her feet, almost tripping on the uneven pavement. “I don’t know—some friends of ours lived there, then my sister moved in when she was here, then Lilly, Eliza, and I moved in when she and her friends graduated.” Her chin tilts up a notch. “It’s one of those places that never goes up for rent. Everyone wants to live there.”