Page 110 of Roses in Summer

“Hey, Siri, call Ava,” I order my phone.

Ava answers after the second ring. “Lincoln, why are you calling my fiancée’s phone at nine at night?” Grey’s voice rings out over my speaker.

I don’t waste time on pleasantries. “Have you spoken to Seraphina? I called and texted her over an hour ago and haven’t heard from her.”

“No.” I hear the frown in his voice. “I’ll ask Ava. Vixen,” he yells away from the receiver. “Have you spoken to smalls?”

“Not since noonish, why?” I hear her voice in the background, getting loud as she must approach Grey.

“Linc’s looking for her.”

“Hmm, I’ll call her and B and see what’s happening. She mentioned Liv was off today, so maybe they’re out. Greyson, let me borrow your phone.” I wait, speeding through traffic toward West Elm while Ava calls her sisters. Five minutes pass, a lifetime and no time all at once. “That’s weird.” Her voice sounds strained. “I called all three of them, and none of them answered.”

“Go to the apartment. You’re closer than I am. And call Rafe; I’ll meet you guys there.”

“Lincoln, do you think you’re overreacting?”

“Something is wrong, Aves. I know it.”

There’s a pause on their end, probably silent communication passing through each other, before Ava finally says, “Okay. We’ll see you there.”

41

Seraphina

“If you look at your phone one more time, I swear that I’m going to throw it in the oven and turn it on broil,” Olivia grumbles beside me.

I roll my eyes at her words, though I can’t disagree with her and how frequently I’ve been checking my phone since Lincoln left my bed this morning. I don’t necessarily like this version of myself, the one who is glued to her screen hoping for a message from a boy, but I also know that to deny myself this small level of control is fruitless. And by control, I mean the constant eyes on every notification that comes in so that I’m neither surprised nor disappointed.

I know it’s irrational.

I know it’s annoying.

I also know that I’m going to keep doing it until I’m forcibly stopped or the novelty of Lincoln’s attention wears off.

“I’m not that bad,” I lie, biting down on my lip as I mutter the words.

Olivia scoffs and pushes her chair out, rising from the kitchen table. “You are exactly that bad. Bianca, back me up on this?”

“Yeah, you’re annoying,” my sister calls out as she plays on her phone, eyes never leaving her screen.

“Pot, meet kettle.”

B’s middle finger responds to my annoyance.

“That’s it.” Dishes clatter in the sink, and my head whips toward the kitchen in time to see Olivia cross her arms and lean against the counter. “All of our phones are turning off for the rest of the night.”

“Liv—”

“Absolutely not, Olivia.”

Bianca and I respond at the same time, but Olivia shakes her head, doubling down. “I missed out on a double shift tonight, and I’ll be damned if I lost cash to watch the two of you sit here on your phones all night. So turn them off and give them to me.” She holds out her hand, emphasizing her words. “I’ll give them back when we go to bed, but if we’re having a girls’ night, then by god, we’re going to have a girls’ night, and I will not be subjected to the annoying tapping of Bianca’s acrylic nails on the glass.”

Sighing, I put my phone down on the kitchen table. “Not to sound like I’m obsessed with my phone, but if someone needs us, or if there’s an emergency, they won’t be able to get in touch with us.”

“You’re making excuses. Whatever it is can wait for three hours while we watchA Nightmare on Elm Streetmarathon.”

I grimace at Olivia’s movie choice. “I get that you love horror, but do we really have to watch Tracy return to her childhood house?” I hate that scene in the 1991 film, not least of all because the psychological warfare is more chilling than the actual blood and guts that accompany slasher films.

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