Chapter Thirty Nine
Distance. That’s how I’ve survived today.
Distance and radio silence. I can’t bear to lie to Thiago about whatever happened last night with Reid, nor am I going to withhold it from him.
So the only option left is hiding in the library, ignoring the fact I’m supposed to be in art class right now, and lacrosse practice later this afternoon.
Bookshelves surround me, stretching upward in tall, looming stacks that seem to swallow the sound of campus.
Light filters in through the high windows, dulled by heavy clouds that press low in the sky, casting everything in a muted gray.
I’ve claimed a corner table tucked between two bookcases, half-hidden from anyone passing by, my laptop open and a stack of textbooks spread out to make it look like I’m busy.
In reality, I’ve read the same paragraph over and over again without absorbing a single word, my pen tapping idly against my notebook.
The quiet was supposed to be comforting, but my brain refuses to cooperate, dragging me back to the events of last night every chance it gets.
Reid’s voice lingers where it shouldn’t, threading through my thoughts in a way that makes it impossible to ignore, no matter how much I try.
He let me touch him, let me paint him for the sake of calming me.
In any other instance, that would be considered thoughtful, until he slammed a door in my face and then blared his music until morning. Whiplash is an understatement.
Then there’s Thiago, always waiting on the other side of my avoidance.
I’ve left my phone face down on the desk, unable to face his name lighting up the screen.
Guilt sits heavy in my chest, although I haven’t technically done anything wrong.
I feel like I should own up to something, but even doing that would create a label that I don’t understand.
And I’m not even getting started on Everest, with his macho bullshit claiming me whilst doing everything in his power to piss me off.
Seriously, why are the men in my orbit so complicated?
I drag a hand down my face, exhaling slowly as I highlight a sentence on my textbook just to feel productive, even though I couldn’t decipher what it says if my life depended on it.
The textbook itself is a deep dive into the artist’s psyche.
Ironically, changing my major from psychology to protect my mental health has been replaced by identifying the psychological state of artist’s, so that I can start to analyze and express my own.
I figured it would be simply throwing paint at a canvas and seeing what miracles I might be able to produce.
I should know by now, nothing comes so easily.
Touching my highlighter nib to the page again, I try to pick out something of interest to return to later.
“Running away doesn’t suit you.”
The pen stills instantly in my hand, the quiet around me snapping clean in half.
I don’t look up straight away, clinging onto the last fragments of calm before I meet Everest’s eye.
He is the last person I’d expected to find me here, but when I do bring myself to look up, I can see how he managed to track me down.
Thiago winks as he shakes his phone, which happens to have me pinpointed on the screen’s map.
“Hola, Amorzinha.”
I slowly release the clench of my jaw, taking in the contrast between them.
Everest stands at the edge of my table, his hair pushed back like he’s been dragging his hands through it all day.
Thiago’s posture is loose, his cocky attitude oozing out of him.
Neither comment on the presence of the other, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.
Meanwhile, I’m in some twilight zone, my world starting to spin the wrong way on its axis.
“Well,” I start, glancing between them as the unease creeps in. “This feels…coordinated. Did I miss the part where you two decided to become besties?”
“Hardly,” Everest replies without missing a beat, while Thiago’s grin spreads wider.
“Give it time.” He throws an arm around Everest’s shoulder, who promptly shoves him off.
“We’re bonding.” I narrow my eyes, my grip tightening around my pen.
Alarm bells are ringing in my ear as I gently close my laptop, bracing myself for whatever might come next.
Maybe Reid will hop out of the shelves to start a tickle fight with the pair. Who knows at this point?
“Is someone going to fill me in or are we just going to sit in awkward silence?” As if I’ve offered an invitation, the pair grab chairs from a nearby table and join me, Everest’s expression grave.
“We want to help you.”
I blink at him once, then again, waiting for a punchline that doesn’t come.
“Help me, what?” I frown. As far as I was concerned, our tenuous truce was set.
I’d show up at public events and not act repulsed by Everest, whilst Thiago and I lay low.
Now they’re ambushing me, clearly having pre-discussed the situation without me.
I tamper down my irritation in favor of managing the weird flutter happening in my chest. Thiago says nothing, glancing at Everest to take the lead until I become impatient. “Seriously, what the hell is this?”
“We think,” Everest starts carefully, “that you’ve been trying to handle everything on your own.”
“And?” I press on, unimpressed by this ‘we think’ scenario. Everest leans on his forearms and I sit back, worried he’s about to do something like reach for my hands.
“And it’s not working.”
My brows shoot up at Everest’s observation.
I didn’t realize he was paying attention, or that I was being so transparent.
I suppose the whole fake-it-‘til-I-make-it approach hasn’t been as strong as I hoped.
Everest holds my gaze with a level of seriousness I’m not comfortable with, especially when I’m the topic of discussion, until his motive clicks into place.
My mouth curves into a smile, then a trickle of laughter bubbles free.
I snort, laugh harder and toss my pen aside.
“Oh, I get it. I’m not behaving like the perfect show pony you wanted. Just because I slammed my knee into your balls yesterday—” Thiago also bursts out laughing at this, his entire face coming back to life.
“Holy shit, I’m praying someone got footage of that! The Downfall of Everest Calloway account has been lacking new material lately.” Everest inhales through his nose, briefly closing his eyes to search for a modicum of patience.
“Of course that was you,” he mutters beneath his breath.
Shaking his head, he continues on, wholly committed to scrutinizing me.
“You’re holding back, Meg. On the pitch.
In yourself. You’re second guessing every little thing and whether you want to admit it or not, it’s costing you.
This isn’t about me or the public spectacle. It’s about you.”
My eyes settle on Thiago’s pale blue ones.
I can’t believe he’s sitting here, agreeing with Everest. Agreeing that I’m utterly failing at every aspect of life, when he’s been the one telling me I’m perfect to him the way I am.
A pain similar to betrayal cuts deep, and my face must show it.
Swallowing, he hesitates before pitching in, his smile subsiding for a moment of clarity to leak through.
“You deserve to feel like yourself again, Amorzinha. Whatever form that comes in.”
Rolling my tongue between my teeth, I draw my arms up to cross them over my chest, physically putting a barrier between us. Dismissing Thiago, I give Everest my full attention, not holding back the venom in my glare.
“Fine. You want to help me. I’ll hear you out for the next,” I make a show of checking my wrist that hasn’t got a watch on it, “three minutes. Go.”
Everest doesn’t hesitate, which immediately sets me on edge.
There’s no fumbling of words, no arrogant speech, no attempt to infuriate me just for the sake of it.
Instead, he reaches into the pocket of his shorts and pulls out his phone to slide it across the table.
The screen lights up under my gaze, a map already open, a blinking red dot pulsing like a heartbeat in the middle of nowhere.
“We found him,” Everest states coolly. My stomach drops before I even register why, my body reacting faster than my brain can catch up as dread curls low in my gut.
“You found…who?” I frown, peering at the flashing dot.
It’s seemingly in the middle of nowhere, a singular building on a huge stretch of land with a tiny road nearby that might only be a dirt track.
Dragging my eyes up, it’s Thiago’s expression that collides with the discomfort I was already sensing.
His features are set in a way I’ve only seen once or twice before, usually when he’s deep in thought.
“Harrison,” he says in barely a whisper.
For a second, I don’t breathe. I just stare into a void between their heads, my mind stalling.
There’s no way. Not even with Thiago’s genius, they can’t have just…
found him. The police have been stuck for months without any leads, and then Laura was taken and-
“Oh god. Laura,” I breathe, lifting my hand to my lips. My fingers tremble, the magnitude of what I’m being presented with finally hitting me.
“We have a very small window of opportunity here,” Everest leans in even closer, his eyes imploring mine to focus. “He could move on at any time, his trail going cold again. I’m willing to take you and be at your side, but it’s your call. What do you want to do, Meg?”
“What do you expect me to do?! Stroll up to him and say hey, remember me?” I scoff, maintaining a whisper even as I become slightly hysterical.
My hands shoot into the air and then slam onto the tabletop, restless energy vibrating within and having nowhere to go.
“We need to give this over to the police.” Pushing Everest’s phone back across the surface, he catches my wrist.