Page 169 of Summer After Summer

“No, I’ll meet you there, okay?”

“Sure enough.”

I squeeze his hand, then let go. “I’ll see you later, Ash?”

I walk away without waiting for her answer, but she comes after me.

“Olivia, what is it?”

My eyes search the crowd frantically. What is it?

“I can’t explain right now.”

“Is this about Fred?”

“Not directly.”

“You sure you don’t want to tell me?”

“I can’t right now, okay?”

“Okay.” She hugs me tightly. “I love you.”

“I know.”

I squeeze her tight, then let her go.

I don’t why I feel so panicked or what’s pushing me away from everyone who wants to help me.

I just know I’m not going to figure it out in this crowd full of strangers pointing their phones at my family’s history.

In a minute, I’m up the stairs, headed toward my bedroom, when something makes me stop on the second floor.

Some instinct draws me to the room Wes’s staying in.

I find a couple in there, arguing over the bedframe and whether their daughter will like it.

I shoo them out, and close the door behind them, turning the lock for effect.

There’s nothing much personal in here—Wes’s suitcase, his laptop on the desk, his toiletries in the bathroom, zipped into a small black bag. It smells like his aftershave, and the bed is made neatly like he always does, but something feels out of place.

I fling open the closet—it’s full of empty hangers and some dry cleaning wrapping dumped in the corner.

I close the door, feeling insane.

I go to the bathroom to put some water on my face. I look at myself in the mirror, the years this summer has peeled away. I might not have looked like the girl Fred remembered when I got here, but I am her now.

I need to pull it together and get through today. It’s just the auction, I tell myself, all these people, Fred.

But the anxiety won’t leave. I need something to take the edge off.

Wes usually has some Ativan to help him sleep. Half of one would do.

I unzip the black bag, running my fingers through it, searching for the pill bottle but coming up against something else.

A small velvet box.

I open it, my hands shaking, not sure what to expect. A ring? Some apology gift from Wes that he changed his mind about giving me?

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