Page 82 of Tilly in Technicolor
“I think someone might be trying to get ahold of you,” Tilly says, leaning her head on my shoulder as we walk.
I chuckle, dragging my thumb across my forehead. “Putting it mildly.”
“Call them back,” she says, giving me a nudge.
I glance at her. “Would you… er… How would you feel about meeting them? Marcus and Micah? We could FaceTime.”
Tilly’s smile is, quite simply, radiant. “I’d love that.”
We cut into a nearby park, finding a bench that offers a little shade from Spain’s punishing summer heat, and I ring Marcus back.
“’Bout fucking time you called us,” Marcus says by way of greeting.
“Marcusssss, don’t be so rude,” Micah says, batting him on the shoulder.
“Yeah, Marcus, don’t be a wanker,” I say, goading him.
Marcus rolls his eyes. Micah registers Tilly smiling next to me and proceeds to push Marcus out of the frame as they lean closer.
“Oh my God, you’re Tilly.”
“Guilty,” she says back with a light giggle.
“I’d like to say we’ve heard so much about you, but seeing as Oliver has all but forgotten us during his jet-setting summer, you’ll just have to fill us in on how extraordinarily lovely you are.”
Tilly shoots me a goofy, terrified look.
“Micah isn’t one to ease people into their energy,” Marcus says, maneuvering to at least get part of his face in view.
“Wouldn’t want it any other way,” Tilly says, scrunching up her nose as she laughs.
“Enough small talk,” Micah says. “Truly, tell us everything. How is the trip? What have you seen? How didthis”—they gesture wildly between me and Tilly—“begin?”
Tilly and I glance at each other, then smile. We start with today, launching into a probably way too detailed play-by-play on all the museum’s exhibits. We work backward, revisiting Granada and Stockholm and Copenhagen. Reminiscing on Amsterdam. Laughing about Rome. It isn’t long before Tilly and I are both hyper and flushed with color, our voices loud as we remember so many wonderful moments that shaped us.
“You two are unbearably cute,” Micah says. “If it weren’t so endearing it would make me sick.”
“What are your plans for after the summer?” Marcus asks Tilly.
He has no idea how big of a landmine he just stepped on. Tilly’s smile wavers. She tries to recover it, but it falls flat until it crumples.
“Still have a few things I’m figuring out,” she manages to say.
And I want to save her. I want to ease that worried crease between her eyebrows. But the problem is, I don’t know how. Because I’m in the dark about what happens after this summer, too.
And it’s killing me.
I want a plan. A firm, clear definition of what it looks like. I need routine and order and enough lead-up to recalibrate my mind to what comes next. But every time I try to have the conversation, Tilly distracts me. And I don’t know what to do.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, but my sister is calling me,” Tilly says suddenly, taking her phone out of her dress pocket and waving it wildly. “Gotta take this. It was so great to meet you.”
She scuttles away before she can hear Marcus and Micah say their goodbyes.
“Did Marcus say something wrong?” Micah asks quietly.
I sigh, rubbing my knuckle over my eyebrow. “No. Everything’s fine,” I lie.
I can tell by the resulting silence that neither of them believe me.
