Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 149982 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 750(@200wpm)___ 600(@250wpm)___ 500(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 149982 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 750(@200wpm)___ 600(@250wpm)___ 500(@300wpm)
But at night, my mind wanders to him. I wake up with a massive hard-on that only goes away when I stroke myself thinking about him.
Doesn’t mean I’m gay or bi or anything other than straight.
Am I convincing myself or am I really fucking straight? I need a road map to navigate this uncharted place, and I don’t have it. I don’t know anyone who does.
Oscar.
Yeah right, like he’ll help me. Like he’d even want to after I rejected him.
Anyway—I’m straight. There’s nothing to ask.
I’m not into Oscar like that.
My nose flares as I bite down on my teeth, and I realize the phone has already rung out with no answer.
Fuck.
I redial for FaceTime.
And he answers on the second ring. “Long time no chat”—we talked yesterday—“listen to this…” He rolls down the window to his Land Cruiser, and I hear the splash of the ocean.
I smile. “Sounds like you being grounded. Again.”
“The volume must be broken on this thing. Because that’s clearly the sound of the sickest swells.”
“Jesse.”
“I want to be the first out there when the sun comes up.”
My eyes flit from my brother to the road, back to him.
His shaggy hair sticks out in a million different places and he yawns into his arm like he woke up from sleeping in his car. I notice the wetsuit splayed over his headrest and the surfboard in the back. “So you’ll tell the parents I’m safe and that I’ll see them for breakfast—?”
“Fat chance, wild child, it’s a school day.” It may be summer, but he has to repeat British Lit for plagiarizing a paper last year.
He has a warm smile while he slouches on the passenger’s seat of his SUV. “You look at the calendar this morning, Kuya? I’m impressed.” He runs a hand through his dark hair that’s long enough to reach the back of his neck. “It’s almost like you’re a fully functioning adult or something.”
I skip over his sarcasm. “Aren’t you actually grounded?”
“Like in this moment?”
I laugh. “Yeah. What other moment would there be, Jess?”
He shrugs with a bright smile that could rival mine. “You tell me, Jack.” He puts extra emphasis on my name like I’m a pirate from the Disney franchise.
Jesse is exactly ten years younger than me, and I love him more than life itself. He’s my only sibling, and while my family is still in SoCal, I end up seeing Jesse in person more than my parents. He’ll fly out to Philly and stay with me for the weekend at least once a month. My mom and dad would make the trek more often, if their jobs didn’t usurp their time.
“You have withstanding groundings,” I tell him more plainly.
“Groundings?” Jesse leaves the camera frame for a second. “I mean, I feel like those might have been suggestions.” He returns with a banana and slowly unpeels it.
My stomach groans at the food. Fuck. After my three-hour dazed and confused shower, I hightailed it to my car without grabbing breakfast. Hunger pains vs. being late. I’ll choose the hunger pains every time. Showing up late feels worse somehow. Like knives plunging into my gut.
“You broke curfew three days in a row,” I remind Jesse. “I don’t think being grounded is a suggestion.”
“KuyaI’mseventeen.” He mumbles the sentence through his banana-filled mouth.
I laugh. He’s an idiot.
He swallows and smiles. “I’m an adult.”
“Pretty sure you’re one year behind that, dude.” I give him a look. “More if we’re talking about maturity levels.”
He smiles more. “I’m mature. Mama and Dad just miss you, since you’re all the way out there and they’re keeping their claws in me tight. They were never like this with you.”
“Because I didn’t break curfew.”
“Did you even have curfew?”
“Yeah,” I nod strongly. “You were just too little to remember.” I switch lanes to take the next exit. “Text Mama right now and tell her you’re driving home.”
He lets out a huff and peels back more of his banana. “Did you already talk to her?” He sounds more remorseful. “Is she awake?”
“Yeah, and she’s worried you’re doing drugs.”
He groans. “Fuck, okay.” He sits up straighter and turns on the ignition. Biting a chunk of banana, he tosses the rest over his shoulder in the backseat. “I thought they wouldn’t notice if I left—they’ve been buried in some new development going up in Malibu.”
Real estate. It wasn’t their first careers, but it’s what they’ve poured everything into for as long as I can remember.
I’ve inherited their work ethic, the kind that drives me every day to reach higher. Do more. Be more. But it has consequences.
I’d think Jesse breaks the rules just to get their attention, but he probably wishes they forgot about him right now. He’s just a free spirit that doesn’t like anything tying him down.
But when our parents are working and he thinks he can pull shit over them, I’m usually the one enforcing his punishments from across the country.