Page 56 of Our Darkest Summer
Aaliyah glared at her sister, who was still behind the counter. “Someone has to distract Lila if we want to go to the back.” She tilted her head. “Kevin.”
The boy jolted upright from where he’d been lounging while flirting with Connor.
“You know her, can you just…” Her brows knitted as she tried to find the words. “You know, talk to her, but without annoying her so she doesn’t run from you to the back?”
Kevin smirked. “On it.” He climbed out of the booth—over Connor and, to my amusement, Thomas, who let out a barely audible, annoyed groan—and headed to where Lila was working.
“Now.” Aaliyah leaned over the table, lowering her voice. “We just have to wait for the perfect moment.”
What I thought would be ten minutes—max—slowly stretched into twenty after Aaliyah made us order and chat so Lila wouldn’t get suspicious. She told us that any other time, when it was her parents working, she could have taken us back without a problem, but her sister was like a hawk, preying on her.
I glanced at my watch just as Thomas snatched Connor’s strawberry milkshake and took a long, aggressive sip, his eyes landing on me. His gaze seemed to soften, but it was probably just the sunlight playing tricks. His hair nearly curled into his right eye as his head tipped slightly to the side. The slow thud of my pulse drowned out everything else as my focus shifted from his face to the green and blue veins on his hand, then to his fingers. The very fingers I’d dreamed of. The sight of them brought the butterflies in my stomach to life.His grip holding me in place, his fingers moving in slow?—
He bumped his leg against mine under the table, and when I looked up, his eyes glinted knowingly, like he could see straight into my mind. Like he’d seen himself reflected as a sculpture by Michelangelo, and wanted me to know he’d caught me. Warmth spread into my cheeks, and I pinched my arm in the shadow of the table, trying to snap myself out of it. The corner of Thomas’ mouth twitched upward around the straw, as if he had seen that too.
Then—he winked. Or did he? I blinked, trying to decide if I’d only imagined it. His half-smile was playful, his eyes gleamed with mischief. It was quick, subtle, but my damp palms and the way his gaze stayed locked with mine told me it was as real—and as breathtaking—as theBarberini FaunorDavid.
Connor snatched back his drink, drawing me out of the moment, breaking whatever spell I fell under.
“Leave some for me, would you?” he muttered, rolling his eyes and shoving his brother’s shoulder.
Except Thomas didn’t so much as move an inch, which made Connor shoot me aCan you believe him?look.
Ten minutes later, when the back door finally closed behind us, we each let out a relieved breath.
We were finally here.
“The old tapes are up there.” Aaliyah pointed at four boxes on top of a wooden shelf. “Each covers a month over the past twenty years.”
That meant there were 240 in total to search through. Thomas pulled down the four boxes one by one, and we all dropped down to our chosen one, sixty tapes each.
I thumbed through the cassettes.2002 March, May, June, July…2003, 2004…After checking twelve months of five years I could confidently state that I did not have 2009 in my box.
“I got it!” Connor straightened, pulling out a cassette and lifting it high above his head. “I got it,” he breathed, then dropped to his knees like he was accepting a gold medal—just a lot more out of breath.
Thomas took the tape out of his hand and passed it to Aaliyah, who hurried to the old TV across the room with a built-in player. She placed the tape into its rightful place, and after a few snapping and crackling sounds, the screen hissed, and the recording started.
We were seeing the café in black and white. Aaliyah sped up the video and I watched the changing dates in the top corner of the screen, until…
“There.” Thomas stopped her, and we all leaned closer to the screen as the static slowly cleared.
Lizzie Rhodes stepped into the Sunnyside, wearing linen pants and a sweater. She walked to a table in the back and sat down facing the door. She took off her sunglasses and pulled out a newspaper. For several minutes, nothing had happened, and Aaliyah sped up the footage again. Then, Lizzie put aside the papers and flipped her phone open, accepting a call. She nodded a lot while talking, then when she slid the device back into her purse she hurried out the door.
“Can you rewind it?” I asked, and Aaliyah pushed a button on the remote making the video move backwards. Lizzie walked back inside, sat down, pulled out her phone and lifted it to her ear, then— “There.” I pointed at the screen. “The call came in at 6:12:09.” I gestured to Aaliyah to start it, again. “6:12:27,” I muttered. “So the call was less than twenty seconds long.”
“And then she left immediately,” Connor chewed on his bottom lip.
Who could she have been talking with? I studied her face. Her forehead was creased, something had surprised her. Maybe the caller? But then she showed the sign of excitement before she hurried out the door.
“Where do you think she headed?” Connor asked, and Thomas and I exchanged a look. My best guess was the library. It was the next stop on her to-do list after all.
“The library,” Thomas voiced, and I couldn’t hide the smile that tugged on my lips.
Great minds think alike, or whatever the saying was.
“Then we should head over there. Cora’s helping her mom again, maybe she can help us too.” Aaliyah grinned, grabbing my hand, and tugging me toward the door.
But before she could pull me outside, I paused at the cork board by the entrance, and slipped a piece of paper from my back pocket—one I’d written just after waking from those weird dreams. I unfolded it and pinned it up between a yellowed obituary and a faded summer camp flyer.
