Chapter 23
CHAPTER
TWENTY-THREE
SLOANE
“Use lilac and make it everywhere.” Tyli slides my binder back to me, pages splayed to my—awful—sketch of the interior of my future agency.
I want a vibe like that of The Veil; sections cordoned off so eventually, when I have a team, everyone has their own booth to work with clients within.
In person. Online marketing and social media influence is huge, but I want my place to be different.
Focused on what works, sure, but a community too.
I know from experience if people have to tackle everything alone, they fall.
I flash a grin at Tyli and glance at my pastel purple binder, raising my brows to my friend. “Obviously.” The sketches she looked over were curtains, booths, and a walled-in vanity area. Separate from the bathroom, because it’s nice to get ready and primp in a place without a toilet.
I close the binder and glance around Ely’s library.
Friday of our long weekend, with classes starting back on Tuesday, the place is empty.
The lights are dim, the bookshelves dusted but deserted, and while there are a handful of other circular wooden tables here tucked behind the biographical sections, Tyli and I are the only people around.
It’s quiet, too, the sole sound distant hums from the wind outside.
There’s a thunderstorm coming tonight.
I texted Henry and asked if he wanted me home, but he said Mom and Dad were pretending to be happily married again and that made up my mind for me.
“You’re staying all weekend?” I ask Tyli. I saw her two nights ago at the party—told her I had to rush out to see Henry; thankfully she didn’t catch sight of me leaving with Storm.
Tyli tucks a brown-black curl behind her ear, then smooths her hand over her maroon-red notebook.
Her nails are stiletto, yellow, and stunning contrasted against her dark skin.
The emerald-studded bangles on her wrist clank with her movement and I wonder if that’s her journal or if she uses it for school.
Tyli Myles reminds me of Remi in some ways; quieter than average, secretive until she decides to open up.
I’ve known her for going on three years now but only what she wants me to know.
Her family lives in Charleston and she has no siblings.
Other than that, I couldn’t tell you much about her home life.
What I do know about her is she looks good in anything—casual, off-duty model wear and ball gowns both (we dressed up one night last year to go out like we were storybook princesses)—and she wants to be a fashion editor.
For a known magazine first, then she wants to start her own.
We always joke about working together in the future, but I hope it isn’t a joke.
“Yeah,” she finally answers me, her amber eyes lifting to mine. “Which is good. I’ve got to design, shoot for, and print a mini magazine by the end of the semester.” She lifts her chin and smiles, red lips pulling up high. “You wanna be in it, by the way?”
My face flushes warm. She’s my friend, and it’s just for a course, but still, it’s not every day you get asked to be in a fashionista’s lookbook.
“Yes,” I say, smiling as I speak. “But give me ample warning when you want to shoot. I need to do a facial, spool my brows, find an outfit—”
“No, no. I like your natural brows. Much better than all the stuff you used to do to them,” she says with a laugh, glancing at my eyebrows.
She isn’t wrong. They do look better now.
I used to laminate them but then the hairs started getting too brittle, so now I just use gel when I remember.
I don’t know if Storm’s ever seen me with them done…
And I don’t know why I care. Why the thought even crosses my mind.
I duck my head, and it’s not because of Tyli’s light teasing. Storm and I watched Scream together on Wednesday night, but he took me back to Ely the next morning and we haven’t spoken since.
I still haven’t spotted that camera he’s allegedly got outside of my place.
But I have had the desire to text him way too much.
Remi is with Cortland still in Beckley and she’s sent me photos of her and her small family in the mountains, and I love getting pictures of Baby Lyle, but I really want to talk to her about Storm.
In person. She keeps hounding me about what it is I needed to tell her but I want to actually see her face in real life when I confess we’ve spent two nights together despite her warning.
It feels weird when I think about it, and maybe I feel a little guilty, too. Up until last year, she didn’t sleep well through the night and she had to go to extensive therapy because of what happened with all of them.
For a while, I hated Storm and Cortland both.
Maybe sometimes I still do, even though I see Cortland treat her well and show up every single day for her and Lyle.
But what would she think about me and Storm potentially hooking up? She already warned me to stay away from him. And Cortland, the one person who should vouch for him, did the opposite.
And why does it matter anyway? It won’t be anything more than a fling, so bringing it up seems pointless.
“I like having this place to ourselves,” Tyli says, glancing around the dimly lit library. She stretches her arms overhead and I watch her muscles flex.
I’m not very tired and I’m worried it’ll be another sleepless night worrying about Storm and who is after him, and my parents and Henry, and I decide I’ll probably just head to the gym after Tyli goes to her dorm.
“Me too,” I agree. A rumble of thunder seems to shake the entire stone and brick building and Tyli drops her arms and shoots her gaze to me.
“On second thought,” she says, pushing away from the table. “Maybe we should get home.”
“This building is probably safer than either of our places.”
Tyli swipes her maroon notebook from the table and drops it into her emerald-green fuzzy bag on the floor as she shakes her head. “Safer, maybe. More comfortable?” She stands, then snatches up her bag. “Absolutely not.”
I start putting my binder and my pens away too. It’s not like either of us got much done but hanging out and talking about the future was worth it. To me it feels like a spell of good energy; casting excitement over our dreams.
I imagine trying to tell Storm Leary something like that and it almost makes me laugh.
“You coming?” Tyli asks.
I’m still in my seat as I zip up my lavender backpack but leave it on the hardwood. “I think I’m going to stay here a little while longer. I don’t mind if I have to walk in the rain.”
Tyli wrinkles her nose. “You’re good walking by yourself though?”
“Are you?” I counter. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice my phone light up with a notification but I don’t grab it. Probably Heather or Caspian.
Tyli sees it too and she says, “Yeah, I am, but speaking of hanging out in the library at midnight alone, how are things with Dax?”
I click my tongue and roll my eyes. “I haven’t talked to him since the party.
” Which is true, but only just. He texted me the same night everything went down, after I left with Storm, asking who the hell he was.
Since he’d had his fingers all over him, I suppose that was fair, but I didn’t feel like getting into any of it with some guy I’m hardly dating, so I just never responded.
“Well, for what it’s worth, he left right after you did, and he seemed riled up about it.”
I smile but guilt flips in my stomach. “Poor baby.”
Tyli shrugs. “He’s fine, and he’s loaded. You could do better, yeah, but you could do worse.”
I don’t argue with her because on both counts, she’s right.
I wonder what she’d think of Storm, but I don’t ask. She’s ready to go and I don’t think we should get into it right now. What would I even say? Hey, I’m falling for a psycho drug dealer who has a camera outside of my apartment that I can’t find? Also, he fucked my best friend a few years ago.
Yeah, no.
“What about you?” I ask instead. As far as I know, Tyli isn’t seeing anyone. “You meet anyone at the house?”
She lifts one shoulder in a cocky shrug. “I met a few boys.” Then she winks at me and turns to leave. “Be careful out there, Estelle.” She calls me by my middle name, something I drunkenly told her one night when we played beer pong with vodka.
“Text me if you need me,” I say with a smile in my words.
Estelle was my mother’s idea. I don’t hate it, but it’s a name I feel like I haven’t grown into yet.
Another rumble of thunder sounds outside as Tyli disappears, but she doesn’t come back.
I snatch up my phone from the table when it glows again, then lean back in my seat, one foot on it, knee bent, other leg stretched out.
I’m in a white sweatpants and hoodie set tonight, my hair loose and swept down my back.
Relaxed with no makeup on and definitely not ready to see someone like Storm Leary, but he’s one of the three people who texted me.
Another is Caspian.
And Dax.
My heart thuds seeing Storm’s name but my texts and previews are hidden so I torture myself and don’t open his first.
Caspian
How would I go about inviting Henry up here to stay with me?
I snort at that. Caspian is emotionally dead and psychologically distant but deep, deep, deep down inside his heart, he cares or he wouldn’t bother.
And he asked me instead of Heather because he knows Heather has a lot on her hands with Rome, and Heather would crucify him for being so inept.
Heather is generous and kind and patient. But not with Caspian.
Say ‘hey, I’ll fly you up to see me on *insert dates here*’
With Henry, it needs to be all figured out or he’ll decline. He still might, but that’s the best way to lure him in.
I open up Dax’s text with a little trepidation just as I hear rain start to lash against the window panes of the library. The background sound is relaxing and even though I meant what I told Tyli about not being afraid to walk in the storm, I don’t want to soak my bag. It has my MacBook in it.
Dax