Page 43 of Wanting Wentworth

Visit the Grand Canyon

See a movie in a real movie theater

Learn to Surf

Order room service

Kiss Brock Morris

That one kills the smile. Tightens my jaw and almost makes me slam the notebook closed. Instead, I flip through the pages again, scanning them until I get to the last set of entries.

Kiss him

Above it, it says:

Touch his tattoos

Like art.

The words I thought I’d finally managed to chase off circle back, slamming into me so hard, I suddenly can’t take a breath. Scanning down the rest of the list, I read the rest of what she’s written down.

Let him draw me

Ask him who gave him his nickname

Have an orgasm before I die

Ask him to fuck me

Shit.

Doing what I should’ve done in the first place, I slap the notebook closed before shoving it and the rest of her stuff back into her backpack. Zipping it up, I toss it on the table, leaving it behind to take a walk around the lake.

TWENTY-THREE

Kaitlyn

I left my backpack at Northpoint.

I’ve considered going back for it more than once over the past week—even saddled Two-tone a time or two but in the end, I chickened out.

—all I want from you is for you is to get out, right fucking now, and to never see you again.

There’s nothing in that backpack but an old, busted up laptop, a few notebooks and—

My notebook.

The notebook.

The one I keep my list in.

Remembering the last entries I wrote in it, my cheeks burn with shame.

Touch his tattoos.

Kiss him.

Let him draw me.

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