Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 98264 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98264 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
In that moment, there wasn’t much I wouldn’t have given Camden.
When I finally stepped out of his arms, the loss was huge, but he smiled, making the warmth linger.
I started to walk away, but he suddenly stopped me.
“Hey, Nora.”
“Yeah?” I whispered.
“It’s gonna be okay. It probably doesn’t feel like it right now, and I’m not even going to pretend to know how you feel. But I promise I’ll make it okay.”
He couldn’t possibly promise that, but I was so desperate for any sort of relief that I allowed myself to believe him anyway.
After slipping on a dry pair of Ramsey’s basketball shorts, Camden sat on my bed and picked every single splinter from my back with the patience of a saint. When day shifted to night, I expected him to race home for dinner the way he always had when we were at the creek. Instead, he reclined on the bed beside me, kicked up his legs, and asked for another sandwich.
We talked for a long time about nothing but somehow also everything.
He even got a few smiles out of me.
Eventually, we started laughing and it was the euphoric reprieve I never thought I’d feel again.
Nothing was fixed. Nothing was better. Nothing was even remotely close to being okay.
But with Camden beside me, I wasn’t alone.
I fell asleep that night listening to him talk about why he believed aliens would one day inhabit the Earth—that is, if they weren’t here already. I woke up a while later and he was asleep too, but his arm was under my head and I was snuggled into his side.
I should have woken him up. With my luck, he’d get shipped back off to Alberton again for staying out all night. But when the bitter chill of reality is all you’ve ever known, you learn to hold on with both hands to whatever warmth you can find.
So I went back to sleep—safe with my one true friend.
Or so I’d thought.
Just after midnight, I snuck out from under Nora. She was sound asleep, her lips parted in peaceful slumber. I hated to go, but if I wanted to see the light of day again, I needed to get home and do some serious lying about falling asleep at the creek.
I found a colored pencil on her nightstand and a tore a scrap of paper out of a sketch pad on her vanity.
Nora,
I have to get home before my grandparents send out a search team. I’m sure I’ll have to do a million extra chores in the morning, so I’ll probably be late getting to the creek. Here’s a fun thought… You should meet me at my grandparents' house and do them with me. You like picking up dog poop, right? You could finally meet Satan’s Chihuahua. Tempting, I know.
2560 S. Turner Hill
I liked hanging out with you last night. You snore like a Grizzly bear and there was a puddle of drool on my shoulder when I woke up, but you didn’t kick, so that’s all that really matters.
Thanks for trusting me. You won’t regret it.
Your true friend,
Cam
P.S. My parents have forbidden me from going by Cam because “If they had wanted me to go by Cam, they wouldn’t have named me Camden.” I’ve always liked the way you say it though. I wish I could always feel like Cam.
P.S.S. I’ll make lunch tomorrow. Fair’s fair.
P.S.S.S. I got an A in English this year and still have no idea if I’m doing the P.S. thing right.
P.S.S.S.S. I’d rather be there with you.
She didn’t budge as I left the note and our ten-dollar bill sitting on the nightstand. Thankful she didn’t have a screen, I snuck out of her window. How she slept at all after what had happened to her, I had no idea.
I’d tried to play it cool and not pressure her into talking about it, but as I’d picked those splinters from her back, I’d plotted the death of a kid I’d never even met a dozen times over.
My Nora was feisty and filled to the brim with attitude and giggles, so to feel her crumbling in my arms was a rusty knife to the gut. I had not one damn clue what I was going to do about the things she’d revealed to me. Her house was falling apart around her, the stench of smoke and mold worrying me the most. Her room was nice though, and I’d double checked that the lock on her door worked, so it eased my mind to know she at least had a safe and comfortable space to sleep at night. Though, if she didn’t do something about the fucking asshole who had forced himself on her in the process of leaving those marks on her, there was no guarantee she’d stay safe.
As to be expected, my grandpa was sitting on the porch when I got home just after midnight. I braced as I walked up the driveway, mentally preparing myself to witness my own murder.