Page 42 of Nightmare

I laugh, “Well,nodur.”

I choose a mauve color for my nails, and Summer decides on a deep, dark red. Internally, Summer is pink, bubbly and bright to my dark, critical and grungy. So, when she points out that we swapped nails I laugh, wondering why – all of a sudden – I want something lighter and sweeter.

There probably isn’t some internal meaning to it, if I’m being honest, but I do take a few seconds to consider that maybe it has to do with the company I’m keeping in New York versus how I spent my time in Cali.

My phone buzzes, pulling me out of the therapy session inside my head, and I swipe at it where it’s sitting next to me at the UV light station.

Brody:I miss you, Liv.

“Dude, Brody just fucking texted again.”

Summer looks at me from across the table, and makes a disgusted face, “Tell him to fuck right off to the hell he crawled out of.”

I laugh before typing out my response.

Me:Leave me the fuck alone.

He doesn’t respond, but I spend the next hour feeling on edge.

I don’t know why but I just can’t shake the feeling that someone is watching me. I search my surroundings while we walk back to the penthouse, finding nothing out of the ordinary, so I try to brush the feeling off even when my gut is telling me not to. I’m fucking paranoid, that’s all it has to be. No one knows me here anymore.

I click my new nails along the wall of the elevator while we move upward towards my home, because there’s nothing like a brand-new set of nails, and Summer is tapping away on her phone next to me.

“Who you talkin’ to, Willis?”

She responds without looking up from the screen, “That’s not the quote.”

I roll my eyes, “I changed it to fit. Who are you texting like a crazy woman?”

She cuts her eyes to mine and grins, “Malcolm.”

“Mac with the big dick?” I question.

She busts out laughing as the elevator doors open, then we head through the penthouse. Once we reach the kitchen, we notice a huge display of flowers on the kitchen counter – peonies.

Summer reaches them first, and she pulls the little cardboard card from the vase and moves her eyes along it as she reads it.

“Who are they from?” I ask, stepping onto my tippy toes to try and peek over to read it.

“No name.” Summer says, handing the card towards me. One word sits on the cream-colored cardstock. My stomach sinks when I read it.

Mine.

I shoot my gaze to Summer, “What the fuck?”

She tilts her head in confusion, “Travis?”

My eyebrows pull down in confusion so I look at the card again.

Mine.

Would he send me that? I don’t think so. I haven’t exactly been forthcoming with my acceptance of his infatuation. But he’s a bold guy, and this is a bold move.

I shake my head, “I don’t know.”

I toss the note on the counter, avoiding it for right now, but make a mental note to ask Travis about it next time I see him.

I move through the rest of the penthouse, greeting the large bed in our room with warmth. I flop down, curling under the blankets and Summer falls down next to me.

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