Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 88290 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88290 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
“What?” Jake repeated.
“Yeah, Pa, he’s about as observant as, you know, a table.”
“What?” Jake said for the third time.
“Did you notice anything weird with Kola?” I asked Harper.
“He’s been a little moody lately, but I’ve been all about my relationship with Tighe ending and so I haven’t really been checking on him.”
“I’m sorry about that,” I told Harper. “He seemed very nice.”
“He is very nice,” he agreed. “He just can’t be gay, so that’s not going to work for me.”
“I understand. Been there myself a long time ago.”
He nodded, and we had a moment before Kola came downstairs in sweats from head to toe like he was going to go outside.
“It’s snowing,” I said to him. “And it’s, like, five degrees out there, so I––”
“Don’t tell me what to do!” he yelled. “I’m not a fuckin’ baby anymore.”
Sam turned to look at him, more surprised, I was sure, than anything else, and Kola muttered a “Sorry” to me and slammed out the back door and was gone.
“Uh, what the hell?” Hannah asked.
“I don’t know,” Sam said and looked at me. “But we’re going to figure that out as soon as he gets back.”
But he didn’t come back. For hours. And finally I said that we were going to go look for him, and even though Sam said he just needed some space, I wasn’t about to do that.
“No.” I was emphatic, grabbing my keys. “What if he got hurt or––”
“I’ll go with you,” Hannah chimed in, smiling at me. “I’m too worried to do anything else anyway. I just died on Torment level seven, and when has that happened before?”
Sam got in his car, Harper and Jake went in Harper’s mother’s minivan that he’d borrowed, and we all left the house to go look for Kola.
It was snowing harder, my dash said it was negative three degrees, and I was getting more and more worried. Stopping at a corner, I heard Hannah whimper.
“We’ll find him.”
“I know,” she agreed, and then Dobby, who was on Hannah’s lap, barked.
She petted him, but he got his little feet on the window and started really barking, like he was trying to tell us something, and it took us a moment to see that Kola was across the street on the park bench, just sitting.
“What if he runs away?” Hannah asked. “I mean, that would be nuts, but—what if he does? What’re we gonna do?”
I drove over near where he was but didn’t beep the horn or anything. I just sat there, and Hannah put Dobby’s ridiculous puffer coat on, then his warm, protective boots, opened the passenger side door, got out, and put our Chihuahua down. He ran for Kola, through the snow, almost sinking a couple of times. I didn’t think Kola could stay still and watch Dobby struggle to reach him, and I was right. As soon as he saw the little dog bounding through what wasn’t terribly deep snow at that time, he got up and walked over and scooped him up. Dusting him off, he carried him to the car, slid open the side door of my minivan, and got in. We had the heater cranked up, but I was guessing with how hard Kola was shivering, that he needed a hot shower and a change of clothes and some warm tea before his core wouldn’t be freezing.
“Thanks,” he muttered. “My feet were really cold.”
“You’re welcome,” I said, and when Hannah turned in her seat to give him both barrels, I touched her shoulder and shook my head.
She turned back around, sent a group text that we found him, and we were quiet on the short ride home.
Once there, she got out of my van, took Dobby, and went back into the house. Kola and I sat in the very warm space, not speaking.
After a bit he said, “I’m sorry I yelled at you.”
“I forgive you,” I assured him.
He got out of the back, got into the front and sat there, looking miserable. “You probably don’t wanna hug me, huh?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I told him. “I always want to hug you.”
Leaning sideways, meeting him halfway, I hugged him as hard as I could, turning my head to kiss his icy cheek and then hugging him some more.
“You scared me to death,” I grumbled.
He chuckled in my ear. “I’m sorry.”
“Tell me right now what’s wrong with you.”
“I don’t want you or Dad to think less of me.”
“Mykola Thomas Kage,” I snapped at him. “How dare you think so little of your father and me? That’s terrible.”
He was about to say something when the sliding door opened and Sam got in the back seat and leaned forward so he could see us both.
“What did I miss?”
Kola gestured at me.
“Why is your father mad?”
“I—I just said that I don’t want you guys to think less of me.”