The Truth & Addy Loest by Kim Kelly

Author:Kim Kelly
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Jazz Monkey Publications
Published: 2020-10-15T00:00:00+00:00

Addy paused and looked at her pen, wondering how those words had come. They didn’t seem her own. Because they weren’t, not completely. They were Adam’s first, she supposed. They were words that belonged to her family. And not only to her family: she would want these words to belong to any wounded heart. All hearts. These were words that had been brewing through every story she’d ever longed to tell, and through every story she’d ever heard or read. They were fresh-cut words that sprang straight from forever and always.

She wrote out her heart on the page. Pages and pages, one after the other. A view of a Darmstadt street she’d never seen; a sketch of face she’d never met; lines and lines of garbled notes she hoped she’d be able to decipher later. She wrote without stopping, until hunger brought her back into the here and now.

What am I writing? She didn’t know. She looked out her window, which, in this imperfect writing room, she had to bend back a little in her chair to do, set as this window was just above the middle of her bed – the only configuration of furniture that worked, given the size of her wardrobe. She stared a little numbly at the rusted rooftops of Chippendale, as if her brain had been emptied out. Relieved. And yet she fizzed inside with – what was this? The roofs and chimney pots were gold kissed in the —

Oh fuck. Oh frick. Oh fuck. What’s the time?

She looked down at her watch. It was almost half-past five.

It’s all right – I have forty-five minutes. He won’t be here until six-fifteen.

He? Like Dan Ackerman picked her up every Friday evening for club Chinese and a ringside seat to watch her brother punch another man in the face. What? Truth would always be stranger than fiction. And I have to wash my hair – my hair is disgusting. What will I wear? What will I wear? WHAT WILL I WEAR?

She hurled herself into the shower and mentally ran through her wardrobe, with the story of Adam and Anna Loest tugging at the edges of everywhere. She didn’t want to leave them; she even considered catching the bus to Kingsford alone, just so she wouldn’t have to talk with Dan, or anyone – except her grandparents. After all, Dan had said, ‘If you’re not at home tomorrow night, that’s cool,’ hadn’t he?

Stop that thought right there. I will not be standing up Dan Ackerman. I can’t wait to see him – his lovely face. His warm, dark eyes. His smile. His very cool suede boots – I hope he wears them.

God, what a load of superficial observations they are.

What? I’m not supposed to find him attractive?

You pay too much heed to meaningless details. A real writer —

Shut up.

Apart from wanting to discover every detail about him there was to know, she could not possibly no-show him or he might think she thought he was a creep for stealing her note from the piano.

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