Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 113072 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113072 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
And he bounces.
I wince. But then it gets worse, as Chase steps away from me to lean down over the guy on the floor, his fist cocked.
“No!” I stop breathing.
Time grinds to a halt as Chase eyes the guy sprawled out on the floor. Then, as my lungs begin to burn, he rises slowly again. “You’re not fucking worth it,” he mumbles before unclenching his fist.
He takes a step back, and I exhale. But my relief lasts only a second. Because that’s when I notice the angry glares on the other beer bellies’ faces.
“My buddy was assaulted!” one of them hollers. “I’m calling 911!”
“I already did!” someone else says.
Oh God. “Chase. It’s time to go now.”
His exhausted gaze finds mine. “So you’re in charge of me now? That’s rich.”
I put a hand on his biceps. It’s like clutching a steel pipe. “It’s time to make your exit. Could you come outside, please? It’s important.”
For a moment he just stares at me. “Sounds like a terrible idea,” he says eventually. “For so many reasons.”
I glance over my shoulder and find the whole bar staring back at us. “Chase. You need to get out of here and get away from all these people.”
He seems to consider that for a second and then just shakes his head. “Last time I went anywhere with you, my life imploded. Gonna have to pass this time.”
His words land like a blow. He may be drunk, but he hasn’t forgotten every ugly detail from our past. “Let me rephrase,” I say carefully. “You don’t have to go anywhere with me. But you have to get out of this bar. I’ll find you a taxi.”
He stares me down, those bright eyes searing into me, and I can’t help but wonder what he sees. “Jesus, Zoe,” he whispers. “You ever watch action movies?”
The change of topic catches me off guard. “What? Sure. Why?”
“At the end there’s always a fiery explosion,” he says, as if this conversation makes any sense. “It’s in, like, slo-mo, right? The screen turns orange, and then the fire spreads out in every direction.” He makes a motion with his hands, which I suppose is meant to represent an inferno.
“So?” I glance warily at the beer bellies helping their friend off the floor.
“So that’s what you were in my life, Zoe. A big orange fireball. And now you’re back.”
I suck in a breath, taking that in. But I never get a chance to respond, because the door pops open. A waft of icy January air rolls into the bar, and two uniformed police officers step inside.
“That’s the guy!” one of the drunk fans says, pointing at Chase. “Arrest him for assault.”
Chapter 12
Nine and a Half Years Ago
July
On Independence Day, the whole camp is treated to a picnic dinner at a lakeshore park. The menu features chicken salad served on lettuce; baked potato chips that taste like paper; and red, white, and blue Popsicles for dessert.
“Low-calorie party food,” Chase says under his breath to Zoe as they help clean up the campers’ Popsicle wrappers. “They want us to have fun, but not too much.”
Zoe smiles slyly before trotting off to help a camper who needs a Band-Aid for her blister.
By now, Chase has gotten his wish—and Zoe’s phone number. They’re spending almost every evening on the roof together. Just as friends, in spite of Chase’s almost debilitating attraction.
He hasn’t made a move, though, which is unlike him. He doesn’t miss all the looks she sneaks his way, but he doesn’t want to get this wrong. It feels too important.
The Fourth of July isn’t the right moment, anyway. He hates this damn day. As the sky darkens, Chase paces on the grass and listens to a local high school marching band play “Stars and Stripes Forever.”
What a stupid holiday. It’s only good for eating grilled food, blowing things up, and thinking dark thoughts about the night his mom disappeared forever.
But at least it’s dark already. Small-town fireworks displays never last very long.
As the first rocket bursts over the lake, he spots Ethan and Joon-ho reclined on the grass, and he heads over to sit near them. He does a double take, though, when he notices that they’re covertly holding hands.
Well, damn. He hadn’t seen that coming. It’s really fucking cute, though. At least somebody is enjoying this stupid day.
He picks another place to sit. Alone. With each bright burst in the sky tanking his mood a little further.
A half hour later, though, they’re back on the camp bus. And when the bus pulls up in front of the dorm, it’s after curfew already.
Normally he’d be on the roof right now with Zoe, snacking and talking and watching the stars come out over the campus. It’s his favorite part of the day.
Tonight, though, he’s not fit for company. He texts her: I’m heading inside. Talk tomorrow?