Total pages in book: 148
Estimated words: 137572 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 688(@200wpm)___ 550(@250wpm)___ 459(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137572 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 688(@200wpm)___ 550(@250wpm)___ 459(@300wpm)
I stare at Hoyt in disbelief. “Is what Julio said true? Were you the one who threw punch all over me at the Halloween party?”
“No!” Hoyt scoffs at that very notion. “Julio … he’s confused. He doesn’t remember half that night. Big boy got into the Strongs’ liquor cabinet or somethin’. He—”
“He took the fall for you,” I go on, trying to piece something together on the spot. “Coach Strong benched him the rest of the season for fighting Vann, but you were the one who started it all.” I shrug his arm off my back. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
He wipes sweat off his forehead, then sighs. “Look, first off, it wasn’t supposed to go all over you. I was aiming for Vann …”
“Holy crap. You did do it!”
“And it got all over both of you instead. I was shocked, okay? I didn’t expect the entire thing to spill. But Vann was just standin’ there, being smug and showin’ off, kissin’ all over you …”
“I can’t believe you, Hoyt.”
He huffs and, for a moment, appears to be playing indignant. Then his whole tack changes and he becomes desperate. “Hey, I’m sorry, alright? I didn’t think it made that big a difference, whether it was me or Julio, or even Benji. It doesn’t change the outcome. Vann tore after us. He took my buddy Julio to the ground, proving to us all that he … proving that he’s just a … that he’s …”
Hoyt can’t seem to figure out what point he’s trying to make. I decide to make it for him. “Let’s just call a spade a spade, shall we? Hoyt, you were jealous.”
Hoyt’s whole face scrunches up. “Say what?”
“And maybe you still are. You can’t stand that Vann is still on my mind, all these days I’ve been staying with you. You keep tryin’ to deny something right in front of your face, acting like you’re … some noble sort of white knight coming to save me from Vann. But the truth is, you wish you were Vann.”
His face has gone as red as his shirt. “You’ve lost your mind.”
“And y’know what? Maybe you were right. Maybe I’ve had you wrong this whole time, ever since seventh grade when we were at our worst. Maybe you weren’t trying to bully me.” I come right up to his face. “Maybe this thing between you and me over the years has actually been a slow-motion love story … except the love is unrequited, Hoyt Nowak. And it infuriates you that you and I only shared one stupid, meaningless kiss in a bathroom instead of the special love Vann and I had—before you ruined it. It infuriates you so much, you had to pull half a Carrie and pour punch on us.”
It’s only now that I realize Julio has returned from his car, and he stands there at the foot of the walkway, staring at us with wide eyes, astonished at what he’s heard. Hoyt’s face is contorted with a mixture of anger and panic, rendered speechless by my tirade.
I wouldn’t have said as much, had I realized Julio was within hearing distance. It wasn’t my intention to let that last part out, Hoyt’s secret—which he himself may not even have processed yet.
But with it being too late now, and seeing as I am unable to magically unsay what I’ve said, I step back, all my anger vanishing at once. “S-Sorry,” I mumble, nearly inaudible.
Hoyt clears his throat, scoffs at me, then shakes his head. “No idea what you’re talkin’ about. You’ve …” He lets out a laugh. “You have lost your dang mind, boy.” He looks at Julio, who has a stone-hard, knowing look on his face. “Toby’s lost his mind,” he says to him now, gesturing carelessly at me. “He’s makin’ stuff up. Gettin’ himself all worked up. Hell, I bet he’s the one who … who’s got …” He clears his throat and runs a hand through his hair. “Who’s got some kinda obsession with me, that’s what I think. Hey!” he calls out at me when he notices me walking away. “Where are you goin’ off to? I’ve got your bag of things at my house! Hey, Toby! Y’know what? I deserved to have fun at that party! It was my birthday! I got to watch you guys kiss on my birthday! Happy birthday to me!”
I leave him there, yelling to himself, or to Julio, or whoever’s going to listen. Even when I reach Main Street, I think I can still hear the ghosts of his hollering as he desperately spins together a believable enough cover-up for the truth, but I’m pretty sure Julio isn’t buying a lick of it.
After a while, I can’t hear him at all. The long road that winds into my suburb is quiet and undeservedly peaceful. I feel like I’m a bunch of broken pieces sewn together, magically able to walk. I’m so emotionally stressed out with life in general that there isn’t a single thought still dwelling in my head about Hoyt Nowak by the time I make it back home. I might even argue that I’m thinking of literally nothing when I push into my shed, kick off my shoes, and drop onto my bed with a lifeless grunt. I shut my eyes and fight off a random urge to cry, too tired even for tears.