Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 95559 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95559 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
This is where I come when I need to think. It’s peaceful when no one is here, and my thoughts don’t muddle together with the mindless chatter of others. My hands grip the rails and I let out a guttural scream. I’m angry at how everything falls onto my shoulders. I always have to be the one to figure everything out. Even my sister—who I love dearly—can’t seem to get her life together. But here I am, trying to make something of myself and I’m stuck caring for everyone, while trying to go to college and play hockey. Once I started playing hockey, it’s all I’ve wanted to do and my chance is swirling down the drain right before my eyes and it’s not even because of something I’ve done.
I yell out into the open expanse, cursing in between screams. Nothing makes me feel better. Nothing ever will at this point. I can see why people leave, why they disappear into the nothingness of the world because it’s easier to not care than to care.
By the time I make it back to my house, all the lights are off. I move as quietly as I can, detouring to the kitchen for a glass of water. My stomach growls and I glance at the refrigerator. I know I shouldn’t open it because my rack is empty, but I do anyway. It seems my stomach wants to be jealous of whatever my roommates ate today. I stand there and stare at my rack, the one marked “Kyler” and see a plate with a sticky note on it.
Kyler,
We missed you at dinner. This is homemade mac and cheese. If you need more, the pot on the bottom is full. Help yourself.
(heart) Thea
I don’t know what catches me off guard more, the fact she thought of me at dinner time or the heart she left next to her name. I shouldn’t care if my new roommate expects me home for dinner, but suddenly I do.
And I shouldn’t really care about the heart, but seeing it next to her name warms me in ways it shouldn’t.
five
Thea
For the fourth time in a row, I find myself waking up in the middle of the night. I’ve been all over the place this week, what with starting my classes a couple of days ago and moving to a new house and meeting new people, and the excitement and adrenaline has caught up with me. While I thought I’d be exhausted and would fall into a deep slumber as soon as my head hit the pillow, my mind has been running overtime in the quiet of the night. The only way I’d be able to get some sleep when I was younger was to drink some hot milk with honey, so I decide to try the old trick now in hopes it will work. The last thing I want to do is turn up to class tomorrow dead on my feet.
I quietly creep down the stairs, trying not to wake my housemates. These guys need all the sleep they can get given their hectic schedules. Since school started, they’ve been up at the crack of dawn almost every day for pre-season weight training. I should be used to it since Jude has been playing hockey for years, but NU hockey is a whole other level. I can’t even maintain a gym membership for longer than two weeks, so I admire their dedication.
As I reach the ground floor, a faint glow of light emits from the kitchen. I’m not surprised when I walk in and see a dark figure sitting at the breakfast bar. Dressed in black jeans, a black long-sleeved shirt rolled up at the sleeves, and a black cap on his head, I’d be worried this was an intruder if he wasn’t currently diving into a familiar plate of food.
“Hi,” I say to him, making my presence known. Kyler startles suddenly before swallowing his mouthful of food and slowly looking up at me.
“Do you always make a habit of creeping up on people?” he asks, his voice a deep, husky tone which resonates through me.
“I do when I think they’re a figment of my imagination,” I tell him, hoping he’ll pick up on my playful snark. I may as well call him out on his notable absences while I have the chance. Kyler takes another mouthful of the chicken casserole I made earlier. As usual, he wasn’t at home when the rest of us ate dinner, and as usual, I plated a portion for him and left it on his shelf in the fridge. Given the fact there is always an empty plate in the dishwasher the following morning, I know he eats whatever I leave. It helps to ease the unfamiliar burn of disappointment I have at him seemingly not making the effort to be more present. No one wants to share a house with someone who gives the impression they don’t want you there, regardless of what the others tell me.