Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 91363 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91363 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
“Why do you have me only living to be eighty?” Ben asked.
I groaned and grabbed his arm, dragging him out of my dorm room. As soon as we stepped into the hallway, a cascade of doors clicked shut. Olivia was right; we’d attracted a crowd.
“If you ever embarrass me like that again, I swear I will find a new best friend.” I rubbed my hands over my face and shook my head. When I peeked at Ben between my spread fingers, he beamed with a goofy smile.
“Gabbs, you were the one who was screaming. And I have to admit, I never imagined you’d be a screamer, but it oddly fits you.”
“Shut up!” I shoved him.
Ben cackled while hugging me so I wouldn’t shove him again. “Should I warn Matt?”
I wriggled my way out of his hold. “Go shower. You will never be in the same room as Matt.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “You can’t be trusted, Benjamin Ashford. You know too many embarrassing things about me.”
He crossed his arms over his chest, mirroring and towering over me. “I’m the keeper of all your secrets. That’s like saying Fort Knox cannot be trusted.”
“Trusting you with my secrets is not the same as trusting you to preserve my dignity.”
“Dignity is overrated, homegirl. See ya for breakfast.” Ben sauntered past me, riding his usual wave of confidence.
I wanted a fraction of such self-assurance. He never cared what anyone thought of him. Boys in school called him Cro-Magnon because of his size and the full beard he grew our senior year. But the comments never phased him. He brushed them off like a horse, swatting its tail at a fly.
Matt would surely fall for me if I could muster Benjamin Ashford’s level of confidence.
Olivia pinned me with a hard gaze the second I stepped back into the dorm room. “So that’s how this is going to go, huh? I’m interested in Ben and you suddenly decide to show interest in him too?”
“Stop.” I waved her off. “He’s obnoxious. The brother I never had. And I’m feeling grateful that God didn’t give me a brother because being pestered all the time is exhausting.”
Olivia changed into shorts and a tee, her go-to pajamas, and pulled her hair into a ponytail. “So you put in a good word for me then, right? Is he down with the idea of us going out?”
“Of course I put in a good word. But I don’t know if he’ll ask you out,” I mumbled, finding my favorite baby-blue nightshirt with pink hearts and a pair of white sweats to wear from our room to the shared bathrooms down the hallway.
“What did you say?”
“I said you were interested in him, but not in anything serious.”
While I changed into my pajamas, Olivia inspected me. I could feel the distrust without even making eye contact.
“What did he say?”
“I don’t remember for sure. It gave him a big head. I didn’t want to feed his mega ego, so he tickled me until I said what you and everyone else heard.”
“That he’s a stud?”
I laughed. “Believe it if you want, but I’ve known him too long. I knew him before he had his growth spurt and grew facial hair. I knew him when his voice was squeaky like a little girl’s.”
Olivia tucked her toiletry bag under her arm and opened the door. “And he knew you before you had boobs or knew what sixty-nine was. Oh wait …” She twisted her lips. “That was today.”
“Shut up.” I laughed, following her to the bathroom. “I had boobs before today.”
Both she and Ben knew too many embarrassing things about me. I couldn’t let either of them around Matt.
CHAPTER FOUR
BRENDA K. STARR, “I STILL BELIEVE”
Gabby
If hope were a color,
it would be blue like your eyes
and shine like your smile.
Hope is eternal,
like my love for you.
After a two-year hiatus from writing poems and affirmations about Matt, I was at it again. His recent presence in my life rekindled my creativity.
My life.
Not Sarah’s.
Not the girl on her way to UCLA (hopefully).
Matt was mine—well, I was working on it.
He deserved someone who put him first and wanted him more than anyone or anything. Patience was a rare trait, but eternal love was the ultimate gift bestowed upon those who truly believed and kept the faith with little regard for time. And no one had been as faithful as me.
I drew hearts next to my poem, gently placed the ribbon down the spine, and closed my journal—my first journal. When I’d lived at home, I wrote my poems in the margins of my Bible or novels where I knew my parents’ prying eyes wouldn’t think to look, not that they would have. I was the favorite child (or so I told myself), the youngest of three girls. Sarah thought she was the pleaser child, but she proved otherwise. Eve hid alcohol by the creek and came home without her panties. I had never been grounded. All my dad had to do was give me a look, and I fell in line.