Treadmill Week 38 & What I #amreading – I Hate Summer by HT Pantu

Addison Albright

9 years ago

Treadmill Goals:

Get on the treadmill (or equivalent exercise) daily
Pace is fine at 30 min/mile, although I may up it on occasion
Time range between 30 minutes and 1 hour per day
Distance 1-2 miles per day
Read the chosen book, which I won’t allow myself to read outside of my treadmill time, hopefully motivating me to reach or exceed the above goals (the only exception to this is Saturday nights, if I want to finish off a book so I can start a fresh one for the new week)

Note: Although I will try to avoid them, my daily #amreading updates may or may not contain spoilers, so read at your own risk.

What I #amreading (rereading): I Hate Summer by HT Pantu ♡

My favorite lines this week:

SUNDAY – So usually when I headed home, it was with that warm glow that came from knowing I was going to see my family and was shortly about to eat my own body weight in meat products and roast dinner.

MONDAY – I turned off the small lamp that had been valiantly holding back the falling dusk. The summer sun had finally lost its sway and returned the countryside to darkness. I’m not sure how long I lay there staring up at the black that obscured the space above me. It wasn’t the lucid gray-and-yellow-tinged darkness I’d grown accustomed to in the city. This was the utter darkness that was removed from civilization.

TUESDAY – At the time I hadn’t thought very much about it, but I now know that I had been very, very, lucky to have such an understanding family and open-minded best friend. I thought about Josh’s family: Jerry and Vince were clearly homophobic, Trystan was reformed at best, but his attitude still clung to the edges of what he had grown up around.

WEDNESDAY – I leaned back and watched the idea take root in his brain and work its way through his body. His tongue darted out across his lips—so like his brother’s. I smiled at the irony that the one I was able to kiss was the one that didn’t eat to be kissed. I could see him considering it as he looked down at me, the lust fighting with the arbitrarily drawn lines he had set out for himself as he considered my lips.

THURSDAY – I headed straight for the kitchen, because I was starving and exhausted and all I wanted was a bowl of cereal and my bed. But of course, every bowl in the house was dirty. I suppressed a shudder as I poured away the solid brown mass that may or may not have been the once chocolaty remains of Coco Pops.

FRIDAY – I wove through the crush of people clamoring for cocktails with the practiced ease of someone who grew up short.

SATURDAY – I laughed—because my life was laughable at the moment and this situation seemed to sum it up perfectly. Plus, laughing helped to distract me from the memory of the sultry look the dream version of Trystan had given me as he’d dropped his mouth over me.