Page 42 of Our Secret Summer

Raffo was flicking through TV channels in Connor’s living room. The images blurred together, a meaningless stream of colors and faces that couldn’t hold her attention. Mia’s impromptu visit to her studio had left her numb more than anything and she was glad to have the house to herself for a while, to just wallow in it all. Mia with her idle, stupid words. That dreadful cat-shaped cloud she was trying to paint. Connor inviting her to dinner at his mother’s. The thought of sitting across from Dylan at a dinner table made her stomach twist in ways she wasn’t ready to examine.

But most of all it was what Mia had said. That she broke up with Ophelia, who wasn’t serious enough. What did that even mean? Raffo’s train of unstoppable thoughts was interrupted by the ringing of her phone. Her palms started sweating because she had a feeling it might be Mia and she wasn’t in the mood for another confrontation. When she looked at the screen, Dylan’s name appeared. Her pulse jumped, a complicated mix of relief and anticipation flooding her system. Not Mia—but somehow this felt even more dangerous. Her finger hovered over the screen for a heartbeat before she answered.

“Hey, Dylan. What’s up?” The forced casualness in her voice made her wince.

“Raffo, I’m so sorry. Connor knows. He’s on his way home and he’s in a state, as you can imagine.”

Everything that could tighten in a human body, tensed up inside Raffo. “Connor knows? How?”

“Oh, god. Something really stupid. One of the pictures we took synced from my phone to my iPad and he saw it and I just couldn’t come up with another story. I couldn’t lie to him anymore, Raffo. I’m so sorry.”

“He saw one of the naked pictures?” Raffo closed her eyes.Oh, no.

“Yes, I’m sorry. I’m so very sorry.”

“Oh, fuck. How did he react?” Raffo took a breath, sinking deeper into Connor’s couch, as though its familiar embrace could shield her from what was coming. She had never wanted Connor to find out but, deep down, perhaps she’d always known it was inevitable, that it was impossible to keep that kind of secret from someone you were so close to—and neither she nor Dylan could be any closer to Con.

“Upset. Like he didn’t get it. Grossed out. In shock. All of it.”

“How are you?” Even though the circumstances weren’t ideal, it was kind of nice to hear Dylan’s voice.

“Mortified,” Dylan said. “Or maybe mortified about having to be mortified is a better way to describe it.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Nothing. Um, Connor told me about what happened today. That Mia stopped by your studio. How areyou?”

“She broke up with her girlfriend and apparently I needed that information.” The words came out bitter and sharp-edged with anger.

“Yeah.” On the other end of the call, Dylan swallowed. “I’m sorry, Raffo. I asked Connor to give you a break because of today, but… he’s hurt because I lied to him. Again.”

“Welied to him again.”

“I feel terrible. I really do, but—” Dylan didn’t finish her sentence.

“But what?” Raffo asked.

“It’s good to talk to you, even if only for a few minutes, and to give you this shitty heads-up. I?—”

Raffo waited for Dylan to continue.

“Will you let me know how it goes with Con?”

“I have to talk to him first,” Raffo said. “See what we agree on.”

“Sure.” A resigned sigh came through the phone. “I’m sorry again and, um, well, I don’t really know how to end this call, but I’ll just leave you to it.” Without further ado, Dylan hung up.

Raffo sat staring at her phone. She hoped Connor was stuck in traffic. Life had been so much simpler in Big Bear, when she didn’t have to take anyone else into account. Although the fact that she hadn’t was exactly what had made this happen. Poor Connor. He didn’t deserve this.

Raffo did the only thing she could do: with her heart beating nervously in her throat, she waited for her best friend to come home.

The front door burst open with familiar drama, followed by the clatter of keys hitting the entry table and designer shoes clunking on hardwood. Connor arrived home in the way he always had, all noise and look-at-me-I’m-here energy. Raffo uncurled from her spot on the couch, relieved that the news of her sleeping with his mother hadn’t dampened his personality.

“I had a long chat with Murray on the way home,” Connor said as soon as he clocked Raffo. “I don’t know how he did it, but he somehow convinced me that you and my mom lezzing it up together isn’t the worst thing in the world, and maybe it’s not, you know, but fuck, Raff, how could you keep this from me for so long?”

“Because she’s your mom,” Raffo stated the obvious.

Connor shook his head. “I feel like I’m in a really bad soap opera.”

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