Page 80 of Roses in Summer

Sucking in a deep breath, I finish the last of my confession. “I saw Chris twice on campus. The first time after my interview at the library. I was freaked out but otherwise dismissed it. But last night…” I stop, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Last night, he stopped me on my way to the archive room and mentioned Mitch, but he also mentioned you.”

She nods, a single tear running down her face as she takes the full weight of my words.

“It was them, wasn’t it? At the summer camp.” She nods again, not putting words to action. Cursing under my breath, I slide over the cushions separating Liv and me, gently taking the mug from her hands before pulling her in for a hug. “I’m so sorry, Olivia.”

She sniffs, holding her body rigid against mine. I pull back, giving her space. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to crowd you.” I start to shift back, but she grabs my hand, stilling me.

“It’s fine. I—” She stops, a breath leaching from her lungs. “God, I thought I escaped it. I never should have come back to the goddamn state.”

“Liv—”

“No, Ser.” She shakes her head, her short dark hair swaying with her movement. “No. Don’t placate me or try to pacify me. I knew that I shouldn’t have come back, but part of me hoped that I could just blend in with a new life, one that was far enough away from the shithole I grew up in and the camp that killed a part of me. But now? Now, it’s followed me to the place that was supposed to be my haven. What am I supposed to do? Run? No. Face Chris? Hell no to that too.” She swallows the rest of her words, looking upward as though the ceiling can help her decipher her emotions and tell her what to do.

I keep my mouth shut, letting her process her emotions while I offer silent support. What am I even supposed to say in this moment? That it will be okay? That I’ll help her through it? All prosaicisms provide nothing but the bullshit feeling of helplessness and impending doom. So, instead, I stay quiet and wait for Olivia to speak the next word.

But to my surprise, I don’t have to wait long. Pulling her hands back, Olivia unfolds her legs and stands, shaking her arms back as she gets to her feet. “I have work this afternoon.”

“Oh.” I nod. “Okay. I didn’t realize that you had a shift today—I thought you were off for the brunch Ava planned.” Olivia shrugs in response, looking anywhere but at me. “Right. Okay.” I clear my throat, standing up to face my best friend. “I’m here if you need me, Olivia. For anything. You’re not alone, Livvy.” My voice breaks, and I choke back my emotion, not allowing myself to show any tears in front of my best friend, who has endured more than I could ever imagine.

“I know, Ser. But I need to be alone right now.” Olivia reaches out to squeeze my shoulder as she passes me, heading back into her bedroom.

Sighing at her retreat, I pull out my phone from my hoodie pocket and text Ava, letting her know that Liv won’t make it to brunch. With that done, I let my head fall, my hair pooling over one shoulder like a veil.

“Shit, Lincoln,” I mumble, lifting my phone back up and navigating to my text messages. I’m not surprised to see Lincoln has responded after my last question, and I hold my breath, reading the text.

Lincoln: All the fucking time, ciern.

Looking down, I stare at the discarded mug on the coffee table. I pick it up and take a sip, willing the lukewarm caffeine to give me a sign that things will be okay.

—

When Ava texted Bianca, Olivia, and me last week, inviting us out for a “low-key” brunch, I anticipated a restaurant similar to JJ’s, the diner on the Marymount University campus, or some chain restaurant where the stacks of pancakes are larger than my torso. But because it’s Ava, and she’s rarely forthcoming with information, I should have known I’d be wrong. The only information Ava provided us was that we needed to meet at her townhouse at ten, and we’d all drive to the café together.

The French-inspired patisserie restaurant, with delicate pastries and beautiful confections, is anything but casual, and I’m relieved I decided to wear a sundress instead of the sweat set I had initially intended. Sitting amongst my sisters and Ava’s friends, I can’t help thinking about how different life was just one year ago when food from the dining hall constituted eating out, and I had to rush from meals to class or work since I never had a stress-free day within my schedule.

“Ser?” Ava whispers beside me in the corner booth. “What happened last night?”

I bite down on my lower lip, debating how much I should tell my sister. While she knows almost everything about me, Olivia’s story is hers and hers alone. Despite the way our invisible strings intertwined the summer before high school, I won’t divulge her secrets.

Choosing my words carefully, I keep my voice low, taking care not to broadcast last night’s episode. “Chris Kopicki was in the library last night; it was his second time there. He mentioned Mitch again and other things”—like Olivia, I add in my head—“and I freaked out. I’m sorry for worrying you.”

“No. Do not say sorry for being creeped out by an actual creep. Is it even safe for you to work there?”

I appreciate my sister’s concern, but it’s useless. “It’s as safe as any other place.” I shrug, looking down at the table as I respond. “They know I’m here, but I have an active restraining order against Mitch. If he does anything, I’ll call the police.”

“I worry about you, Sera. I hate what happened to you in high school.”

“Me too,” I answer honestly, offering a smile with my reply. “But there’s no changing the past.”

“Hmm,” Ava muses. “Did Lincoln come last night?”

“I did,” I answer automatically, and my eyes widen at the slip. “Oh my god. Pretend you didn’t hear that.”

“I need to wash my mind out with soap.” Ava cringes before breaking out into a wide grin. “But also, hell yeah. How was it?”

I shake my head, refusing to answer. “I am not talking about Lincoln with you.”

Ava rolls her eyes. “Prude. Just be careful, okay? And if anything else happens, call the police.”

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