Chapter 7
Seven
W ith Crossfade’s “Cold” thumping through her earbuds, Tori ran the shady trail in Morningside Park. As sunrise painted the sleepy sky a rich gold, she tried to connect with the playlist she hadn’t needed since college.
The blood rushed into her quads as she pushed hard, lungs burning with the effort. Brooding heartbreak didn’t have quite the same impact it once did. Not even when she was running with the reckless disregard of a kid loose in a playground. When the familiar angst of Thirty Seconds to Mars’ “Kill Me” didn’t revitalize the desire to drown all her useless feelings for Mia, Tori ran faster.
Moving ahead of her usual pace, she started her fifth mile covered in sweat and frustration. If she could just tap into the strength that had made her turn her feelings off once, she could do it again. She could kill her dormant crush before it roared to life again. But she couldn’t find the anger that had helped her once. And she’d been brimming with it when she’d started at UF.
Tori’s roommate had gotten her into running as soon as she arrived in Gainesville. Moss-covered trees and grassy hills made the central Florida college town feel like a world away from Miami. A universe away from her past and everyone in it. She’d lost herself on the paths and emerged stronger and better. She just needed to do that again.
Tori’s wrist buzzed with a text alert. She glanced at the message from an unknown number.
I promise not to be an emotional drama queen every time we see each other. But I wanted to thank you for yesterday. I’d forgotten how easy you make it to be myself. Haven’t had that in forever. I can’t tell you how good it is to have my friend back.
Already at maximum capacity, Tori made herself empty every drop of energy in her tank. Like a generator burning the last of its reserves, a visceral grunt rattled in her strained chest, muscles screaming and head pounding from her out-of-rhythm breathing. The discomfort wasn’t enough to suppress the flutter in her stomach.
Mia: Just in case you have an entire sea of emotionally fragile friends… it’s Mia. Your number was on the card in the folder you left. YES I AM ACTUALLY FILLING OUT ALL THIS STUFF. Why is there so much? You sure you’re a realtor and not a lawyer?
A smile, tiny and obnoxious, tugged at one corner of Tori’s dry mouth. She remembered what Mia had been like when they were in school. She’d been a pathological procrastinator. Doing homework in the car on the way to school, staying up all night to study for tests.
Once, she’d spent a weekend forgoing sleep to put together a project that she’d been pretending to work on all semester. Pulling off the impossible, she’d aced the final with some complicated presentation about using orange peels to fight drought. Mia had gotten extra credit for the Florida-centric theme. There was no need for Mia to learn to stop waiting until the last possible minute. It never blew up in her face.
Tori had forgotten that about her. It was only when she hit the last stretch of her run that she realized her subconscious mind expected Mia to put off the paperwork. Especially because she didn’t seem particularly motivated to get her mother’s house ready for sale.
Mia: OMG look what I found.
Survival instinct told Tori to ignore the buzzing on her wrist. To focus on finishing her run and mentally prepare for the rest of her Friday. Normally, she’d have already visualized every step of her day, identifying issues before they manifested, but she hadn’t done it once yet.
Another message vibrated on her wrist and Tori couldn’t stop the chemical chain reaction it set off in her body. She couldn’t stop it, but she could ignore it.
Slowing to a jog, Tori waited for her heart rate to come down. For her body to cool. But even after she transitioned to walking, her stupid pulse was still hammering in her neck.
It didn’t matter what Mia had to say. There was no reason to check her messages like she was holding her freaking breath waiting for them. Reaching under her damp tank top, she snapped off the heart monitor strapped to her chest.
Proud of her restraint, she made it all the way to her Jeep without looking at her watch. It was only when she pulled her phone from her shorts’ pocket that her self-control dissolved.
Sitting in the driver’s seat with AC blasting in her flushed face, Tori’s traitorous heart lurched. The image was of a big, decoupaged box plastered with dozens of cutout pictures of her and Mia.
The image of buying two identical unfinished wooden boxes at the craft store assaulted Tori’s memory. Of sitting together, sifting through hundreds of photos, choosing which ones to print. Of taking over Tori’s dining table to spend a weekend cutting out pictures and arranging them into collages to glue onto the box.
When the second text came through, Tori’s smile curdled. Inside the box were hundreds of folded up squares of paper. Mostly white, but some random colors were mixed in. All the notes Tori had passed her throughout high school.
Closing her eyes, bile rose in the back of her throat. She remembered something else. The burning stench of Mia’s notes when she dumped them into a fire. Chest tight, she considered for the first time in nearly fifteen years whether she’d been a bit extreme in her detox. Regret clawed at her gut, but she told herself it had been the only way.
Mia: You don’t know how many times I tried to take this stuff with me to Philly. My mom was convinced I’d lose them somewhere so she never let them leave the house. Like yeah, Ma. I’m just going to lose a closet full of my best memories. OKAY.
Tori chuckled despite herself. It was easy to imagine that conversation like she’d been sitting at the kitchen counter with them.
Tori: You did lose your house keys twice. Your phone. Your wallet. I don’t know how many textbooks… AND MY VARSITY JACKET.
Mia’s response came immediately, as if she’d been waiting for Tori to text back.
Mia: Okay, promise you’re not going to get mad.
Tori: There’s an excellent way to set someone up to get mad…
Mia: Promise!
Tori: No!
Mia: Jesus, you’re impossible.
Laughing, Tori shook her head even though she was alone in the car. Just texting with Mia shouldn’t be as exhilarating as skydiving.
When the next image popped up on Tori’s phone, her eyes widened. Splayed out on an unmade bed was the jacket she’d gotten her senior year. Light blue with white leather sleeves, Cruz was embroidered in white on the chest. On the huge white L on the front were all of Tori’s varsity pins. Having lost all hope of finding the jacket after looking everywhere, she never expected to see it again.
Tori: MIA!!! You stole my freaking jacket!?!
Mia: STOLE is kind of a strong word… don’t you think?
A strange mix of delight and surprise made Tori laugh too loud for a person sitting alone in a parking lot.
Tori: You took something of mine and kept it…what else would you call that???
Mia: You mean I cherished something to remind me of my favorite person before we went off to college?? SUE ME
Tori: I might!
Mia: Okay, I just did a little Googling and the statute of limitations on theft is five years. So that ship has sailed. Also, you have to admit. It always looked pretty cute on me.
Another memory Tori hadn’t accessed in so long stomped on her heart as it sprang into her mind. Even in the summer, when it was hot as hell, Mia had worn Tori’s jacket to school. At home. On the weekends. Mia wore the damn thing way more than Tori ever did.
Mia: Are you busy tonight?
The sudden change in topic was disorienting.
Tori: Why?
Mia: Always with the inquisition. It’s a yes or no question.
Tori: It’s an it-depends-why-you’re-asking question.
After an eye-roll emoji, Mia waited a few minutes to text again. The delay was making Tori anxiously curious.
Mia: Daniela invited us to her house for a little get-together tonight. Wanna drive together?
Grinning, Tori didn’t know where to start with Mia’s assumption-laced text.
Tori: I’m very sure she didn’t invite US anywhere, because I haven’t seen her in a million years. And I’m not driving TOGETHER somewhere I’m not going.
Mia: You’re so high maintenance. She DID invite us because when she called me, I told her we’d gotten back in touch. She was v excited about that and then insisted I convince you to come. Happy?
Chewing on the inside of her cheek, Tori didn’t know what to name her emotions. She supposed happy would fit, though it was a little simplistic for the gunpowder catching fire in her chest.
Mia: Are we going out tonight, or what? Don’t make me call your mom. I bet she’s still got a landline and I know that number by heart.
Floating leagues above her own body, Tori bit the inside of her cheek. She didn’t doubt that Mia really would call her mom, and she was absolutely sure her mother would guilt trip her about declining the invitation.
Still, Tori couldn’t bring herself to accept. It had been so long since she’d seen people from high school. It was bound to be awkward. She didn’t need the small talk and meaningless conversation with people she had little in common with.
Tori: I’ll think about it.
Mia: Let’s meet here at eight. I already grabbed two bottles of wine so we can each bring one.
Tori: I DID NOT SAY YES
Tori: And I want my damn jacket back.
A pause, and then another photo popped up on Tori’s screen. Mia hadn’t just put the jacket on in an attempt to kill her, she was wearing the jacket in bed. Red hair splayed on the pillow and a little lopsided smile on her lips. Mia’s hazel eyes were alive with an unspoken dare.
Mia: Come get it.