Page 97 of Wild Flower

“Thank you,” I say, feeling a little bit lighter. “Thank you for everything.”

My phone buzzes.

Finn:I don’t know her number, but I do know her name: Valeria Kaine. I’ll check her socials and see if I can find her.

Finn:I hope you’re okay. I love you.

My heart aches, and my fingers ghost over the keys, wanting to typeI love youback. And even though it’s true, right now, I can’t.

* * *

Tequila is not my friend.

Miranda provided me a bottle, per my request, and now my head is aching like a lumberjack split my skull in half. Considering the fact that I should be up early tomorrow to pack more of my plants, this was not a good decision. It’s additionally questionable when my phone buzzes with a photo from Finn. My vision blurs and I can’t make out what he’s texting me a picture of.

“Miranda, queen of the alien cocks,” I call for her highness with a giggle. I anointed her with that nickname after our conversation earlier. “Please come read this text for me. My vision is … yeah, I should not be operating motor vehicles.”

“How drunk are you?” Miranda asks, as she sits down next to me on the couch.

“I didn’t drink all week,” I defend. “Too many elephant cocks to eat and what not.”

“Yeah, you should definitely not mix that metaphor.” She takes my phone. “Oh shit.”

“That sounds bad.”

“No, it’s good, sort of.” Miranda turns the screen to me. “Finn found Archer.”

“Where?”

“In Hawaii.”

“That’s specific,” I slur. “Did he hop islands?”

“I don’t know,” Miranda says. “That’s kind of what the text is about.”

“Get to the point, queen of the alien peen!”

Miranda rolls her eyes at me. “Finn found this picture on Archer’s sister’s social media account. It’s a picture of them in her hotel.”

I look at the text, and indeed Archer is standing next to a young woman with hair just as long and silky as his. They’re on a balcony with palm trees in the background.

“She lives in San Diego,” I say. “That could be Southern California.”

“Except the caption says,Finally made it to Hawaii to see my little brother.”

“Oh.” I nod. “Okay. So, he’s fine. Good. Finn can calm down.”

“You weren’t concerned?” Miranda chides.

“Of course, I was concerned!” I snap back, grabbing my phone and looking at the image of Archer and his sister. He isn’t smiling. I move the image closer so the burr fades, and it looks like Archer is upset, that pained look still in his eye like when he walked away at the opening.

That ache in my skull feels like it’s spread to my whole body.

“Fuck,” I swear, a thousand things swirling with the tequila in my head. “Am I the bitch in this scenario?” I ask Miranda. “Archer tells me he has cancer and what do I do? I bail. Well technically,” I hold up my finger in self-righteousness, “hedidn’ttell me. Arie did. But was running away the right decision?”

“You did what you needed to do in the moment,” Miranda comforts.

“I’m such a mess,” I complain to Miranda, who lets me fall onto her shoulder. “And tequila is definitely not my friend.”

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