Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 57139 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57139 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
I flip him off without looking. “Whatever, my messiness is charming and I don’t purposefully choose horrible dates. Besides, your spine is currently forming a permanent ‘C’ shape. You’re one coding session away from becoming a sentient question mark.”
Ezra mutters another curse. “Okay. I’ve narrowed it down to twenty… somewhat viable candidates. Are you sure you want to do this? There are other ways to fight this. Legal ones. I could call in a favor and have someone extremely rich and smart look over the paperwork your aunt left—”
“I don’t have time, Ezra.” I cut him off. “If I lawyer up, it goes into probate. If it goes into probate, I lose everything. This apartment is the only thing I have left from my aunt that hasn’t been sold, repossessed, or emotionally destroyed by mold. I’m not losing it because I couldn’t go viral enough to prove I’m a modern creative earning her own keep. Plus you know how Grandma Blue is, she’s a stickler when it comes to the law and she’s overseeing this like it’s my aunt’s last wish knowing they absolutely hated each other. Do we really want Grandma Blue to be able to keep this place all because I can’t prove creativity? Aunt Trudence died a month ago and the dirt wasn’t even dry before Grandma started making sure all her affairs were in order including this, one would think she murdered the old bat. God rest her soul.”
“Peace be with her.” Ezra muttered. “And she was pushing a hundred. I still think it was a good way to go if you ask me.”
“She died in front of Wheel of Fortune.”
“Her favorite show, and imagine finally buying a vowel while God welcomes you into heaven?”
“We sure that’s where she went? She yelled at small children and dogs.”
“She was half blind, she thought they were rats, you know this.” Ezra argued. “Anyway, have you considered just lying on your therapy intake form like the rest of us going through nervous breakdowns?”
I stare back at the wall, the same one that held a giant mural my aunt painted at the age of twenty—many a men have offered to buy that wall, mainly because it’s a naked self-portrait and Aunt Trudence had a banging body back in the day, but that’s besides the point. A nice potted plant with strategic positioning covers the necessary bits, unless I forget to water it then you have dead grass where…living things should be. The mural was the one thing she made me promise not to sell in her will, so naked picture of great aunt in her glory days, stays.
“I’ve been on a cancellation list for my new therapist for eight months.” I grumbled, getting us back on track.
“Maybe they smell your desperation for Adderall.” He sing songs.
I violently throw a piece of licorice behind me and glare. “I’m diagnosed, you ass!”
He sighed. “Then drink two Monsters a day like a real American and stop complaining, Harper. Every time you complain a butterfly loses its wings.”
“Not true.” I shuddered. “And drinking that much caffeine is how people end up thinking ‘fleek rizzzzz’ is a love language.”
His lip twitched—he’s trying not to laugh. Wow, I almost got an honest-to-God-Ezra-Park-laugh. It’s at times like that I knew there was a higher power.
But as soon as he realizes he’s about to crack, he returns to his typing while I stare at the board like it holds the secrets to the universe.
He narrowed it even further from the top twenty, when did he even do that? Was he multi-tasking this entire time? Five exes. Five photos. One 2:03AM screenshot that’s been reposted more than my graduation photo. Look mom, I’m famous!
I study the whiteboard again. “This is content,” I whispered, trying to manifest confidence.
A chair screeches behind me. Movement. He was on the move. Red Alert. Red Alert. “No.” Ezra said in a flat voice. “This is chaos. And you’re ignoring the spreadsheet. Again.”
“Don’t act like the spreadsheet has feelings,” I muttered, God knows it probably had more than him. Would it kill him to pretend?
I didn’t bother turning. Ezra was emotionally allergic to eye contact unless he was winning an argument or ordering tacos or pizza or any sort of food really. His DoorDash game was hella strong.
He exhaled like I’d personally offended every app on his laptop. “It has structure, Harper. Which is more than I can say for your love life.”
The printer in the corner whirred to life like it was waking up from a long Ezra coded lecture.
Ezra groaned. “Printer’s possessed again, this is why we can’t have nice things. Maybe if you didn’t set your hair dryer on it, you know electronics are sensitive.”
“That makes one of us.”
I could feel his glare in my direction, but I ignored it.
I stared harder at the whiteboard.