Drift – Aubrey Whitten

I’m imagining it. I’m fussy and overcomplicated. A man like Sawyer would never be interested in someone like me. “We should, uh…” He roughs up his hair on a slow breath out. “Jesus. Let’s get goin’.” THE TRUCK BARRELS DOWN the Tasman Highway, but the stretch of road is only one lane on both sides, and a whole song off the terrible CD plays before we pass another car. “It’s not busy like Melbourne,” I say, watching as the never-ending blur of trees and rocky hills zip past.

“The roads are quiet down this way.” Another song plays through without us saying anything. “I was thinkin’…” Sawyer trails off. I almost launch out of the seat from excitement. Finally. Will we talk now? I made everything so awkward by imagining him in ways I shouldn’t. “Cain’s havin’ some people over tomorrow night,” he continues.

“Nothin’ fancy. Just a cookout for everyone helpin’ with the festival.” “Explain a cookout to me.” “Everyone brings food to share. A salad or somethin’.” “What’s your signature salad?” He turns slightly, his eyebrow arched. “Do I look like a man who eats a lot of salad?” I laugh. With a big, broad chest like his? Not likely. “Well, what do you take along then?” He lifts a shoulder. “Steaks, maybe? I usually get conned into helpin’ out with the grill.

Think you’ll come?” “Try to stop me.” When his attention shifts back to the road, the tense silence resettles into the car. Sawyer drums the steering wheel to the beat of whatever terrible song plays over the speakers, and, every so often, he sneaks a look at me from the corner of his eye. I knew this was going to be awkward. I slip the pink box out of my bag and hold it over my mouth.

The next time Sawyer’s gaze slides in my direction, I waggle my eyebrows. “Okay.” He sighs, but he’s grinning. “Let’s try your conversation cards.” “Yes!” I pop the lid off the box and flip over the first card. “Here we go!” I clear my throat. “Do you play an instrument?” “I play a bit of guitar.” A bit.

I’ve seen the guitar at his place. There’s no dust on it. He plays it. “Like how I know a bit about history?” “Aw… Maybe.” “Yes.”

Copyright © Aubrey Whitten, 2026. This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The story, all names, characters, locales, and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or events is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, decompiled, reverse engineered, stored, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, now known or hereinafter invented, without the prior express written permission from the author.

This includes using this publication in any way to train, be uploaded to, or be used in any form of artificial intelligence. Aubrey Whitten asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work. Cover beautifully illustrated and designed by The BookShelf Studio. ISBN 978-1-7647759-0-8 OceanofPDF.com Contents Dedication Author’s Note Epigraph 1. Overcast with a chance of heartbreak 2. A temporary lull to make a new friend 3. A deluge on the road to town Dear Elsie… 4. Partly sunny after a friendly gesture 5.

Thunder with a reminder that vibrators are a suitable alternative 6. Conditions ideal to decline an invitation 7. Sunny with a 100% chance of a stuck door Dear Elsie… 8. Cloudy but clearing in the afternoon 9. Light winds with a chance of making new friends 10.

Gusty conditions outside the nail salon 11. Blue skies emerging with Nonna’s linguine Dear Elsie… 12. Sunny all the way to Launceston 13. Conditions deteriorating after deciding on a pilaf 14. Storm warnings for the Sunday cookout Dear Elsie… 15. Sunny except for spots of overprotectiveness 16. Humidity rising after a near-death kiss 17. Patchy drizzle until an important conversation 18.

A warm front arrives with tea and a new gray hair 19. Unexpected thunder after a frantic office encounter 20. A thunderstorm moving in unexpectedly Dear Elsie… 21. Lingering clouds even after an offer of pancakes 22. Unpredictable conditions continue due to newfound strength 23. Fog lifting after a two-week absence 24. Temperatures climbing at dusk 25. Only bluebird days on the horizon Dear Elsie…

This is a short excerpt from the opening of “” by Unknown, quoted for review and introduction purposes. All rights belong to the copyright holders.

Book Information

• Unique ID: 14059de2be5635ad
• File Extension: .pdf
• File Size: 1,901,235 bytes (1.813 MB)
• Title: –
• Author: Unknown
• ISBN: 9781764775908
• Pages: 203
• Language: English (en)

Reading & Word Statistics

• Estimated Reading Time: 287.88 minutes
• Total Words: 57,576
• Total Characters: 312,324
• Average Words per Page: 283.63
• Average Characters per Page: 1538.54

Most Frequent Words

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