Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 101662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
“I don’t,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “But my mom told me I should ask you if you were all right.”
“I don’t want you to just ask if I’m all right because your mom told you to ask me.”
“Fine, pretend I didn’t ask.” He went to close the window.
“Wait!” I yelped, darting my hand through his window to stop him from shutting it. “I have something else for you. One second.”
I hurried back to my window, climbed inside, and grabbed the plate of cookies Mom made for me from my desk. I darted out the window and headed back to Gabriel. “Here.”
“What’s this?”
“Period cookies.”
His eyes widened with complete disgust. “You made cookies with your period?!”
“What? No, weirdo. My mom made cookies to celebrate me getting my period. It means I’m a woman now.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Oh.” He picked up a cookie and bit into it. “Cool.”
I wasn’t sure what else to say to him, so I said, “Whatever. Bye, dick.”
“Bye, Penguin,” he replied before snatching another cookie. He shut his window as I climbed back into mine. Then I thought about him all freaking night.
***
The next month, there was a knock at my window. I went to open it to find Gabriel standing there with a plate in his hands.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“Cookies. For…you know…”
I scrunched up my nose. “How do you know I need cookies now?”
“Because I guess that thing happens to girls every month around the same time, so I made cookies with my mom so you wouldn’t become a grumpy ogre.”
“Oh…” How sweet and kind of mean? I didn’t know. Gabriel confused my mind more than any other person ever did. I took the cookies and I bit into one. “Thanks.”
“Are they good?”
“Yes, but I like oatmeal cookies the best.”
“Nobody likes oatmeal cookies the best, except for old ladies who live with fifteen cats.”
“And me,” I said, taking another bite. “With raisins. But these are good, too.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
“Well…” He took a deep breath. “Bye.”
“Bye.” I stood still as he turned around and started walking to his window. “Hey, Gabriel?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you want to be friends or something?”
He scratched his chin and shrugged. “Okay.”
He made me oatmeal cookies every month after that.
With raisins.
16
Kierra
Present Day
Two days later when Gabriel came back to check on the construction process, he stood in my kitchen with a container in his hands.
“You made Ava cookies?” I asked, stunned.
“Yeah. I hope that’s okay. I figured with her current state…” He shook his head. “Sorry. It’s probably odd, but it just felt like the right thing to do. If I crossed a line—”
I darted toward him, unable to hold back from wrapping him in his arms. He was probably confused by my actions, since I was coming off as a complete freak as I held him in my arms.
He was still there…my sweet Gabriel who I grew up to know. He’d baked Ava cookies the same way he used to bake them for me when we were kids and I was PMSing. I couldn’t help but hug him. I couldn’t help but forget for a small moment that he didn’t remember me from all those years ago. Yet, somewhere inside himself, he did remember. Somewhere in his subconscious, little Kierra still existed. He still knew her. He still had those memories. He was still mine.
What a stupid thought, Kierra.
Let that man go.
I pulled back from him, teary-eyed and feeling foolish for tackling him in the way I had. I had a momentary need to tell him about us. I wanted to unload all the details to him about how we were only best friends, but also in love. I wanted to tell him about all our adventures, our highs and lows, our best and worst days. I wanted to tell him about Elijah.
Oh, how I wanted to tell him about Elijah. I wanted him to know all the moments we shared with his little brother. I wanted him to know how I still wrote letters to Elijah every single year. I wanted him to know that every New Year’s Eve, I could hardly watch fireworks without bursting into tears.
I wanted to tell him about Elijah’s laughter. How it could fill a room and make even the grumpiest person soft. I wanted to tell him how close the two of them were. How it was a surprise when his mother and Frank told us she was expecting another kid when Gabriel was fifteen. How he freaked out at first, but then fell in love with the idea. How he used to sleep by Elijah’s crib to make sure his little brother was breathing. How he’d taught Elijah how to throw a baseball, how to ride a bike, and how to tell bad knock-knock jokes.
I wanted to tell him so much about Elijah that my chest ached thinking about it.