Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 82415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
“Relax, it’s just me.” Matteo stops beside me. He’s got a five-o’clock shadow and bags under his eyes. The guy can even make those bags look sexy. And the way he’s looking at me, I figure I’m the reason he’s got them. “Got a minute to talk?”
I turn back to my work. “I don’t know that we have anything to talk about.”
“Please, man.”
A part of me wishes he’d ignored me, as though I were some kind of weirdo. But another part is relieved we’re talking again. We head to a study room, where we’ll have more privacy. I set my bag in one of the chairs at the table that takes up most of the space. I stay on my feet as Matteo pulls out a chair and sits.
Not for the first time since we’ve known each other, an uncomfortable silence lingers in the air. Along with the facial hair and the bags under his eyes, his hair’s messy, like he’s been running his fingers through it.
“I like the scruffy look,” I tell him, since I must admit, it’s kinda sexy.
He glares at me, then looks away, so I ask the obvious question: “How did you know I’d be here?”
“I was already doing some research, and I’ve seen that’s your spot, so I checked to see if you were there.”
He noticed that’s my spot? That shouldn’t excite me, but for some reason it does. Probably because a part of me wishes we could be friends.
We’re back to uncomfortable silence, and I’d rather just talk through it, so I say the first thing that comes to mind. “You gonna join us for the pickup game tomorrow?”
“Alexei, I’m trying to figure out how to deal with this. I don’t want to push or pry. I sure as fuck don’t know that I’m handling this the right way, but I’m really worried about you.”
“That a no for the game?”
He pushes to his feet and approaches me. “Look, I’ve been reading about this kind of stuff. And whatever they’ve asked you to do, you don’t owe them shit. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”
I figured he’d be asking questions about what he saw in the notebook, but sounds like he’s more concerned about the Saints.
“Huh?” is the most I can say, and he moves closer.
“You’re not the only person this kind of thing has happened to. It’s not your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
As he approaches, I take a few steps back, until my shoulder blades are against the whiteboard behind me. “Matteo, what the hell are you on about?”
He takes a deep breath. “I think you’re in some kind of sex cult.”
“What?” I can’t disguise my shock.
“Fuck, I wasn’t supposed to say cult. That’s one of the big pieces of advice I saw online. But come on. You have to see it, Alexei. I don’t know what they said to you. Or how they convinced you. But hell, people have been convinced of weirder shit. Like…stuff you wouldn’t believe. Aliens, ghosts, supernatural powers…you name it, there’s a cult around it.”
I was expecting a lot of things—that he’d tell me this was wild or ridiculous, stupid, even. This wasn’t an angle I’d considered, though now that he’s confronting me about it, I can see where he’s made the connections: Creepy frat group. Spells and rituals. My desperation to get my hands on what he perceives to be a holy book.
“I’m not in a cult,” I assure him.
He closes his eyes, taking a breath. “I know this probably won’t help, but you know what people in cults often say…”
“Matteo, is this what you’ve been researching?”
“Yes. For the past few days. I sent an email out to a group about resources to help you out. You’re not alone.”
As annoyed as I am, I must admit it’s pretty fucking admirable that he’s willing to stage a cult intervention with me, someone he doesn’t even know that well. Even if he’s totally on the wrong track, he’s a good guy.
He runs his fingers through his bangs. “Maybe this was the wrong way to go about this. Maybe I should have gone straight to your family, but…”
A jolt of adrenaline pulses through me. “What? Matteo, no, you can’t tell them about this.”
“No, no. I’m not. When I saw those pages, I knew that would be horribly violating to share without your consent. I couldn’t do that to you.”
I’m glad he said that, but I can still feel the anxiety just from the thought that he might.
“I have to believe there’s a way to reach you,” he goes on. “Please, Alexei. There’s a group nearby that meets and talks about experiences with cults. We can go together. Just for a meeting.”
“Matteo, please be quiet and listen to me. I’m not in a cult, and this thing I took photos of, maybe you should just forget about it and let me handle my own shit.”