Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 147545 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 738(@200wpm)___ 590(@250wpm)___ 492(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147545 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 738(@200wpm)___ 590(@250wpm)___ 492(@300wpm)
I sigh, looking away as I drive past.
I knew it would be like that. It’s no surprise that, in death, he’s treated as a hometown hero rather than what he really was.
It’s just still disappointing.
If it were my funeral, there’d be far fewer people—and far more snide comments made about me.
My curiosity compelled me to check, but now I know, so I try to put it out of my mind. I stop at the store to pick up a few things, then head back to my apartment so I don’t risk running into anyone.
___
The rest of my night is pretty calm.
I don’t hear from Tor, but I didn’t expect to. I know he had family stuff all day.
Still, I find myself missing him a little.
When I go to bed alone, I try not to think about it, but I wish he was lying in bed next to me.
When I wake up alone, I’m a little disappointed that he didn’t show up in the middle of the night.
It’s early enough in this relationship that it occurs to me that might be a little alarming. The way I miss Tor when he’s away from me seems more intense today than yesterday, and I wonder if it will be even more intense tomorrow.
I didn’t feel that way when I was dating Russell. Sure, I liked spending time with him and thought about him when he wasn’t around, but it didn’t feel like this. It wasn’t even close.
With Tor, it almost feels like a need. I don’t want him with me. I need him with me, and that’s… unsettling.
I work a short shift at the chicken shack today, just a quick 11-3 to help out with lunch. Shaley doesn’t get there until four, so I miss her altogether, unfortunately.
It’s Friday night, though, and that means the dreaded vigil at the football field.
I’m tempted to come back to work just so I can be around the only people in town who seem to be on my side, but I know Friday nights tend to be busy, so they won’t have time to visit. I wish Denise had scheduled me to work tonight.
I don’t torture myself driving by the high school tonight to see the turnout.
Instead, I microwave a bag of popcorn and watch a movie.
When it’s over, I pull out my laptop and do a little research on Boston. I didn’t ask Tor which school he’s going to, and there are too many in that city to be sure, so I don’t know which area I should be looking at. Mainly, I think I’m just looking to see if there’s anything for me in the city, anything that would attract me if it wasn’t where Tor was going.
I take a nice hot shower, then I organize the laundry I’ll need to do tomorrow. Finally, I curl up and read a little, determined not to think about what’s happening on the football field.
____
My ambitions were too lofty, it turns out.
I fail mission “don’t think about it” after a single chapter that takes far too long to get through because my mind keeps drifting where it shouldn’t.
At this point, I tell myself it’s better to just look.
I set my book aside and grab my phone. There’s only one thing I really need to see, and that’s how Tor is handling this. My feelings are mixed. I care for him now, so I don’t want him to be in pain, but I also expect I’ll feel some type of way if he seems too sad.
“This is a no-win situation,” I tell myself as I look up his username, anyway.
I should probably start following him, but obviously not right now. He’ll know I’m creeping on his profile.
When I find it, I see Tor hasn’t posted anything anyway. Yesterday, presumably after the funeral, he posted a black-and-white picture of himself and his brother at the lake house one summer, when they were a couple of years younger. Maybe the first summer they spent there alone. In the picture, Tim laughs at something while Tor smiles.
It’s a good picture.
My lips tug down slightly, a heaviness weighing on me, but I don’t try to name it.
I check the caption, but he didn’t leave one. No hashtags either, just thousands of supportive heart responses and hundreds of comments.
I don’t read any of them. Instead, I navigate over to the tagged pictures column to see if maybe someone tagged him in a picture tonight.
The first picture I see makes my nose wrinkle up. Nina posted it. She’s on the football field, her long dark hair pulled up in a low, messy bun, wearing Tim’s jersey. The shot is from behind, so WALTERS 87 is the main focus, but she’s not alone in the picture. She’s standing on tiptoe with her arms wrapped around Tim’s neck, holding him close. His arms are wrapped around her waist, her body pulled against his.