Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 67468 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67468 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
“You don’t think that’s a little too early?” Silvy asked. “Y’all just started doing… whatever y’all are doing.”
Cassius grinned wickedly then, his eyes alight with mirth when he said, “I don’t know, Silvy. It looks like you have a thing for Karen, which started right around the same time. Maybe I’m just in touch with my emotions, unlike you.”
There was a long moment of silence and then Silvy said, “Pass out the fuckin’ tacos.”
I could practically feel my brother vibrating with an unsaid need to lash out, but Silvy had never reacted poorly before. He knew better than to just spout off. He always planned his words carefully, not only because he’d grown up with a little sister that took everything he said personally, but because he was a good cop and could read the situation. Cassius was right. Time didn’t care. You felt how you felt, and the amount of time that you’ve spent with a person couldn’t change that.
Though, I’d practically been living with Cassius since the incident outside The Marina had happened. That was the equivalent of many, many dates.
“I got the Baja taco with all the extra cheese,” I announced, paused, then finished with, “and I love you, too.”
Cassius paused in handing me my taco, his face a mask of blankness.
But his eyes told a completely different story.
He wanted to rip me over the picnic table and do very, very bad things to me.
“You’re looking at me like I’m dinner,” I mouthed to him.
He winked. Then mouthed back, “Dessert.”
Face flaming now, I took a vicious bite of my taco and listened to Cassius, Karen and Silvy talk about Coran, and what the next plan was.
What was the plan, you ask?
There wasn’t one. Silvy thought we should try to force him into acting—we’d tried that. Short of doing it where he could see, something I wasn’t willing to do, we couldn’t force him to act.
It was as if he was exactly where he wanted to be, voyeuristically watching everything that happened in my life.
“The kid’s gotta go back to college sometime, right?” I wondered.
“Actually, I asked Folsom about that today. I mentioned him being in college, and according to his records, he’s never been. Hell, he doesn’t even have a diploma from a high school. According to the state of Florida, he’s homeschooled. Or was, anyway,” Cassius explained.
“Explains his weirdness,” Silvy muttered under his breath just before he took a bite of his own taco.
“Hey!” Karen cried out loudly. “I was homeschooled. And I’m not weird. Being homeschooled is actually not as bad as the stigma of society makes it seem. Homeschool students rank up to thirty percent higher in percentile points above peers in public school achievement tests. And, they significantly outperform their public school peers academically regardless of gender, money spent on education, etc.”
Silvy looked over at Karen and said, “You’re such a nerd.”
She flipped him off and while he was laughing, stole a fallen shrimp off his plate.
My mouth fell open when he didn’t retaliate.
I reached forward and tried to go for my own shrimp, causing him to try to stab me with his plastic fork.
“Hey!” I cried, snatching my hand away. “You just let her grab one!”
“That’s because…” He trailed off, unsure how to answer without admitting some sort of feelings.
I batted my eyelashes at him and said, “You like her? You loooooove her?”
He punched me in the thigh with his extended knuckle, and I threw a fry covered in ketchup at his face.
It hit him in the forehead, causing him to reach forward and try to snatch me right off the chair.
I shrieked, laughing, and moved to sit on the other side next to Cassius.
I glared at my brother when he went to reach for my discarded taco.
“You touch that, and I tell Karen every single bad thing you’ve ever done in your life,” I told him seriously. “You remember that time I walked in on you masturbating to Grandma’s Home Cooking magazine?”
Silvy paused mid-reach, glared at me, then went back to eating his own food. All the while wishing me death with his stare.
I smiled smugly at him as Karen said, “I feel like there needs to be more information about masturbating to a Home Cooking magazine.”
“There used to be this really hot girl that was on the Food Network shows Grandma used to watch. She was the assistant lady. And Dad didn’t like us looking up porn because he had no firewall or virus protection on our home computer. Needless to say, I had to do what I could,” he grumbled.
Snickering, I went back to work on my taco.
Cassius, who’d remained silent this entire time, said, “I think I may know how to get him to act.”
I looked up at him, followed his line of sight, and saw Coran standing at the end of the pier as far from us as he could, his hands fisted and a look of anger on his face.