Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 64727 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64727 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
I held up a finger like an old-fashioned schoolteacher. “This might be a minor detail, but I’m not cool. Not even a little.”
“Well, I think you’re cool,” he assured me matter-of-factly. “The truth is…I need a little distraction today. I could go see my friends, but Ty’s with Walker, which leaves Brady and Regan, and they’ll ask why I wasn’t at Cassie’s after the game last night, and I don’t feel like being interrogated.”
“Ahh, and why weren’t you at Cassie’s party?”
“Who else was gonna wait up for you and make sure you got home safely?” Gus jumped to his feet and tousled my hair. “Let’s do this, Rafey.”
And that was how I wound up in the passenger seat of Gus’s truck, cruising the interstate toward Hamilton. The drive was a peaceful, if somewhat monotonous landscape of imposing trees along a black ribbon of highway. It was nice to have company, odd though the circumstances might be.
I was still curious about him avoiding a party with friends last night. And again this morning.
That was so…not Gus.
“I hope you realize this is going to be a very boring errand. I’m literally going to try on the costume, then turn around and come home.”
“Nope. You forgot Costco.” He spared me a sideways glance, his aviators glinting in the midmorning sun. “How do you feel about corn dogs?”
“Corn dogs are nasty and I hate to break this to you, but I have zero budget left for extracurricular grocery shopping. Not even a dollar.”
Gus shrugged. “It’s on me.”
“That’s not how this works. We’re supposed to equally share expenses.”
“And we do.”
“No, we don’t,” I argued, twisting to face him. “You’ve gone from one extreme to the other. You used to eat my food, now you’re buying extras of everything, and I feel bad. I mean…you’re a student too.”
“I have resources,” he replied cryptically.
“That sounds mysterious.”
Gus snickered. “Do you always jump to the worst conclusion first? I promise you I’m not selling drugs. I just have money.”
“Like I said…mysterious.”
“It’s…” He sighed and blew a raspberry before continuing. “I inherited money from my grandfather on my mom’s side. I have a generous stipend for college and when I turn twenty-five, I’ll get another very large infusion.”
I whistled. “That must be nice.”
“Hmm. My grandpa attached practical provisions to his will, so it’s not a free-for-all. We each have to go to an approved university and seek gainful employment postgraduation. No being bums. My brother Mikey is a med student. He’s doing his residency at Georgetown. And Patrick works for a hedge fund firm. Mom has a sister, but Aunt Lillian never married or had kids, so my brothers and I are the main benefits guys.”
“Beneficiaries.”
“Yeah, I don’t have to worry about groceries, gas money, or paying for books, and I’m grateful for that.”
“I bet. I think about how to stretch my budget every day,” I groused.
“It’s a struggle for a lot of my friends too, and it sucks. Look, I know I’m lucky, but the flip side is that my mom likes to control…everything. It comes from a good place. She wants us to succeed and honor the family legacy or some shit, but sometimes…a lot of the time, she’s fucking relentless.”
“How so?”
“Mikey wanted to teach biology while he researched dementia for some bigwig professor. Not good enough, so like it or not, he’s going to be a doctor now. Same for Paddy. He used to play guitar in a retro punk band who had a decent following, but that was never gonna fly. Mom pulled strings with some old friend of the family. Paddy got rid of his piercings and covers his tattoos with a fancy suit now, but…he’s making bank and Mom loves it.”
“That doesn’t seem so bad,” I said carefully.
“Really? ’Cause they both hate their jobs. They gave up their dreams for money, and it’s my turn next. I’ve made a mini career out of staying in college for as long as humanly possible. I switched my major twice and have minors in psychology and criminal justice.”
I sat up a little straighter, intrigued and honestly…shocked. “You do?”
“Yeah. I have the credits for my undergraduate degree, but I started grad school and—”
“Really? You do?”
Gus inclined his chin. “Yep. I’m working on a master’s in English.”
“Wow. I’m…surprised.”
He chuckled. “You thought I was a dumb jock, huh?”
“No, of course not.”
“Liar,” he huffed without heat. “Hey, you’re not wrong. I’m no brainiac. My only goal was to stay in Smithton, play hockey for as long as possible, and have a lot of fuckin’ fun. Mission accomplished.”
“What happens after graduation?”
“That I don’t know. I might stay and finish my MFA and…teach, coach hockey. I’ve been talking to the head coach at Smithton High and…I think I’d make a good assistant.”
“Yes, definitely. I could see that,” I replied earnestly. “And you’d teach English?”