Page 19 of Lilies in Autumn

Ava

After Thursday night, the weekend flew by in a rush of getting ready for the first day of classes. Between waiting in line in the school’s sole bookstore three times and following the routes to my classes to ensure I wouldn’t walk into the wrong room during the first week, I was pretty sure CeCe was sick of my shit.

“I am sick of your shit, Aves. Settle down before you give me secondhand anxiety.” As I suspected, she was sick of my shit. I tried to explain to her that I had these recurring nightmares of walking into the wrong class, like mortuary sciences, and having to explain to a full lecture hall that I was in the wrong place. Then I would have to transfer schools because I’d be too mortified that I’d be recognized as the idiot that went into a lecture hall for embalmers.

I didn’t say it was a rational nightmare, okay?

Aside from my nightmare, I was also anxious about starting classes and taking the first steps toward fulfilling my dreams of owning my little restaurant. Maybe I was a loser for being excited about my ridiculous class load, but it meant that I was exactly where I needed to be.

“Sorry, C. I’m just anxious to get this semester started. Anyway, we have to meet Serena in fifteen at JJ’s. Are you almost ready to go?” We haven’t seen or spoken much to our new friend since Thursday night’s mess of a party, and we were both dying of curiosity.

CeCe looks at me through the makeup mirror on her wooden desk. “Yeah, just give me a minute. I need to cover this pimple on my forehead so that people don’t think I have a third eye.”

“Okay, cyclops.”

“I said third eye, dumbass, not one eye.”

I laugh to myself. It’s easy to rile her up, especially about anything dealing with Greek mythology. She went through a phase three summers ago where she read every piece of Greek literature she could get her hands on and tried to change her first name to Penelope in honor of Homer. Her parents put a stop to that real quick.

“Okay, all done. Let’s go eat. I’m starving.” CeCe stands from her desk chair and pulls a sweatshirt over her head. Even with a pimple on her forehead and an oversize sweatshirt, she looks beautiful. Meanwhile, I look like a soccer mom in my compression leggings and lululemon zip-up. We grab our student IDs and make our way outside to begin the short walk to the campus diner, JJ’s. When they designed Marymount, they did it with the intent that students wouldn’t need to venture off campus much and could access all of life’s necessities within walking distance. With three restaurants, a pharmacy, a bodega, and a coffee shop, it was like an insular little town, all within a ten-minute walk from the heart of campus.

I turn to CeCe as we walk. “So, do you think Serena will show up, or do you think she’s too embarrassed to come eat with us?”

She worries her lip before answering me. “Honestly, I’m not sure. Like you saw in the group message, I tried to text her about needing to skip out on the poetry reading last night but she didn’t say much.” She shrugs. “I guess we’ll find out in a few minutes.”

In between my first day nightmares and thoughts of Grey, Serena’s been on my mind. She was so excited when we asked her to join us, only to have that excitement snuffed out by Marina, Felicity, and Devin. The poor girl looked like she was starving for friendships and connections outside of the academic confines she was imprisoned in, and she faced unnecessary hostility for most of her night out. It was sad and it pissed me off.

I sigh. “I hope she shows up. I want to induct her into our little group.” My sisters, Seraphina and Bianca, were also part of our pack. Growing up, CeCe was as much a sister to me as Sera and B, and I know they feel the same way about her as I do. It was weird being here without them, but Sera was a senior in high school, along with her twin, Rafael, and Bee was a junior. I know that the short drive home wasn’t an obstacle, but I still missed having them close.

“How is Sera doing with that asshat boyfriend of hers?” Sera’s boyfriend, Mitchell, was a grade-A asshole. Sure, he came from a wealthy family, was generically good-looking, and played football—he was mediocre, at best—but his personality was the epitome of Jekyll and Hyde. When Sera first brought him home, he was okay enough and seemed to worship the ground her little feet walked on. In recent months, however, she was crying more often than not. Despite my best efforts, she still didn’t want to break up with his lame ass.

“Eh, same as it was all summer. I texted her last night, and she said she found naked pictures of some girl on his phone.” CeCe matches my scowl. “He claims they were sent to him by one of his friends, but if that were the case, why would he save them to his camera roll? At best, he’s a creep for keeping photos of her; at worst, he’s a liar and a cheat.”

“My money is on the lying and cheating, unfortunately. Why won’t she just break up with him? Is his dick made of gold?”

I can’t help but laugh. He came from so much money that he probably did have a gold replica of his penis as a bookend in his bedroom.

“I have no idea what his appeal is. As far as I know, they still haven’t had sex, and I keep asking but Sera tells me to stay out of it and that I don’t know everything about their relationship.” I’m so worried about driving an irreparable wedge between us that I tread as lightly as possible when it comes to them. What I do know is that he gave her a purity ring and told her he wanted a virgin bride. I thought my dad was going to call his brothers and get the baseball bats to break Mitchell’s kneecaps when he found out. Instead, Sera was told that she wasn’t allowed to wear the ring and that she wasn’t going to be a teenage bride.

Can’t say that I disagree with my parents.

We’re still lost in conversation about Sera and Mitchell by the time we make it to JJ’s. Unsurprisingly, it’s packed and there doesn’t seem to be a single table available. I make my way to the hostess stand to put my name on a list but stop short when I see Serena sitting in a booth by herself with three mugs and a carafe in front of her. I breathe out my relief—she showed up.

“C, Serena got us a table. Come on.”

We smile at Serena as we slide across from her. “Hey, stranger, good job on getting a table. How are you doing?” I pick up the carafe and pour coffee into our mugs, handing the cream over to Celeste after I use a generous helping.

Serena offers a weak, close-lipped smile. “I’m okay. I wasn’t sure if I should come today. I’m so embarrassed from Thursday night and need to apologize to you both. I don’t have many friends, and I was hoping we’d hit it off. I’m so sorry if my drama ruined that.”

I snort. Does this poor girl think their behavior is her fault? “Serena, as we were walking over here, I told Celeste that my sister’s boyfriend is trying to convince her that anal sex is okay because her ‘hymen will be intact.’ That’s a direct quote.” I shake my head at her and reach out to grab her hands. “Trust me, your drama is no bigger or smaller than anyone else’s. You deserve to have friends you can rely on when the drama gets to be too much, and we’d love to be there for you.”

Tears well up in her eyes. Pulling her hands back onto her lap, she looks down, twisting her mouth before taking in a large breath. Squaring her shoulders, she begins, “So, you guys met Marina, my dad’s stepdaughter. Marina’s mom, Brandi—with an ‘I,’ mind you—was my mom’s best friend from college. That’s how our parents all met. When I was eight, Marina’s family moved down the street from my house.” She looks up at us, smiling ruefully and shaking her head. “I remember being so excited,” she continues. “When we were little, Marina was my best friend, and her mom was like another mother to me. Devin, you met him last night, was my next-door neighbor, and I think I loved him most of my life. He’s an asshole now, but when we were younger, I used to imagine him as my knight in shining armor, a Prince Charming.”

This story is not starting at all like I thought it would.

She clears her throat and continues, “Anyway, when we were eleven, Marina’s parents split up. I don’t remember much of it, but she would leave every weekend to spend time with her dad. Her mom would come over to my house while she was away, drinking with my parents and shopping with my mom. Being a rich, bored ex-housewife. Eventually, my dad found his way into her bed.”

“Damn, Serena. That sucks. But that’s not your fault,” CeCe states as she blows on her steaming cup of coffee. “Why was she so rude to you last night? Does she always act like that?”

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