30. Seraphina
30
Seraphina
Lincoln : Good morning, cierń. Are you up?
Seraphina : Unfortunately.
I hit send before I can think better of it. Lincoln must be watching his phone for my response because his reply is instant.
Lincoln : You having a morning too?
I let out a laugh that holds absolutely no humor and let my fingers work over the screen.
Seraphina : It is definitely one of those mornings. You ever do something you wish you didn’t have to do?
It takes him longer to reply this time. Maybe he’s contemplating my words, or maybe he got distracted, but either way, I don’t wait for his response, even though I wish I could lose myself in a conversation with him. I pocket my phone and fix my eyes on the closed door in front of me.
Dragging in a deep breath, I raise my hand and drop it against Liv’s door. My heartbeat is loud in my ears, nearly drowning out the footsteps I hear approaching the door. Looking up, I imagine how this conversation is about to go, and I don’t have high expectations.
Liv’s door swings open, showing my best friend in a black sleep set and matching slippers. “Yeah?” she asks, her voice gravelly from sleep. I tried to wait up for her last night, hoping that a conversation then would have been easier than early this morning. But I fell asleep, and Liv worked late, so the paths that should have crossed didn’t, leaving me here, holding out a cup of coffee while I hope Liv won’t freak out when I tell her what I think she needs to know.
“Here, I brought you coffee.” I hold out the mug for her to take. “Can you come sit with me?”
Grabbing the coffee from my hand, she cradles it against her chest. “Does this have anything to do with you calling me six times and Rafe showing up here, then following me to the bar for my shift last night?”
“Yeah…” I clear my throat. “Yeah, it does.”
Nodding once, she steps over her threshold, pulls her door shut behind her, and follows me to the puffy couch in the center of our living room. I sit on one corner of the sofa, facing the opposite armrest, and wait for Olivia to settle opposite me. Once her legs are folded beneath her and she’s taken the first sip of her hot liquid, I begin.
“I worked last night, and I ran into someone from high school,” I explain, keeping my eyes pinned to Olivia’s curious gaze. “He was—is—best friends with my ex, the one I told you about.” I bite down on my lip, deliberating my next words. “The night everything ended, we were at my ex’s friend’s house, but before that, we were at Grey’s college house, at a backyard barbecue. At the party, Mitch tried pressuring me to go to a summer science camp—”
“What camp?” Olivia interrupts sharply, looking down into her mug.
“Camp Discovery,” I reply softly and watch Olivia’s eyes squeeze shut at my admission.
“Oh.”
“My ex’s name is Mitch. His friend is Chris.”
“Oh,” Olivia repeats, her voice smaller, more hushed.
Sucking in a deep breath, I finish the last of my confession. “I saw Chris twice on campus. The first time after my interview at the library. I was freaked out but otherwise dismissed it. But last night…” I stop, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Last night, he stopped me on my way to the archive room and mentioned Mitch, but he also mentioned you.”
She nods, a single tear running down her face as she takes the full weight of my words.
“It was them, wasn’t it? At the summer camp.” She nods again, not putting words to action. Cursing under my breath, I slide over the cushions separating Liv and me, gently taking the mug from her hands before pulling her in for a hug. “I’m so sorry, Olivia.”
She sniffs, holding her body rigid against mine. I pull back, giving her space. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to crowd you.” I start to shift back, but she grabs my hand, stilling me.
“It’s fine. I—” She stops, a breath leaching from her lungs. “God, I thought I escaped it. I never should have come back to the goddamn state.”
“Liv—”
“No, Ser.” She shakes her head, her short dark hair swaying with her movement. “No. Don’t placate me or try to pacify me. I knew that I shouldn’t have come back, but part of me hoped that I could just blend in with a new life, one that was far enough away from the shithole I grew up in and the camp that killed a part of me. But now? Now, it’s followed me to the place that was supposed to be my haven. What am I supposed to do? Run? No. Face Chris? Hell no to that too.” She swallows the rest of her words, looking upward as though the ceiling can help her decipher her emotions and tell her what to do.
I keep my mouth shut, letting her process her emotions while I offer silent support. What am I even supposed to say in this moment? That it will be okay? That I’ll help her through it? All prosaicisms provide nothing but the bullshit feeling of helplessness and impending doom. So, instead, I stay quiet and wait for Olivia to speak the next word.
But to my surprise, I don’t have to wait long. Pulling her hands back, Olivia unfolds her legs and stands, shaking her arms back as she gets to her feet. “I have work this afternoon.”
“Oh.” I nod. “Okay. I didn’t realize that you had a shift today—I thought you were off for the brunch Ava planned.” Olivia shrugs in response, looking anywhere but at me. “Right. Okay.” I clear my throat, standing up to face my best friend. “I’m here if you need me, Olivia. For anything. You’re not alone, Livvy.” My voice breaks, and I choke back my emotion, not allowing myself to show any tears in front of my best friend, who has endured more than I could ever imagine.
“I know, Ser. But I need to be alone right now.” Olivia reaches out to squeeze my shoulder as she passes me, heading back into her bedroom.
Sighing at her retreat, I pull out my phone from my hoodie pocket and text Ava, letting her know that Liv won’t make it to brunch. With that done, I let my head fall, my hair pooling over one shoulder like a veil.
“Shit, Lincoln,” I mumble, lifting my phone back up and navigating to my text messages. I’m not surprised to see Lincoln has responded after my last question, and I hold my breath, reading the text.
Lincoln : All the fucking time, cierń.
Looking down, I stare at the discarded mug on the coffee table. I pick it up and take a sip, willing the lukewarm caffeine to give me a sign that things will be okay.
—
When Ava texted Bianca, Olivia, and me last week, inviting us out for a “low-key” brunch, I anticipated a restaurant similar to JJ’s, the diner on the Marymount University campus, or some chain restaurant where the stacks of pancakes are larger than my torso. But because it’s Ava, and she’s rarely forthcoming with information, I should have known I’d be wrong. The only information Ava provided us was that we needed to meet at her townhouse at ten, and we’d all drive to the café together.
The French-inspired patisserie restaurant, with delicate pastries and beautiful confections, is anything but casual, and I’m relieved I decided to wear a sundress instead of the sweat set I had initially intended. Sitting amongst my sisters and Ava’s friends, I can’t help thinking about how different life was just one year ago when food from the dining hall constituted eating out, and I had to rush from meals to class or work since I never had a stress-free day within my schedule.
“Ser?” Ava whispers beside me in the corner booth. “What happened last night?”
I bite down on my lower lip, debating how much I should tell my sister. While she knows almost everything about me, Olivia’s story is hers and hers alone. Despite the way our invisible strings intertwined the summer before high school, I won’t divulge her secrets.
Choosing my words carefully, I keep my voice low, taking care not to broadcast last night’s episode. “Chris Kopicki was in the library last night; it was his second time there. He mentioned Mitch again and other things”— like Olivia , I add in my head—“and I freaked out. I’m sorry for worrying you.”
“No. Do not say sorry for being creeped out by an actual creep. Is it even safe for you to work there?”
I appreciate my sister’s concern, but it’s useless. “It’s as safe as any other place.” I shrug, looking down at the table as I respond. “They know I’m here, but I have an active restraining order against Mitch. If he does anything, I’ll call the police.”
“I worry about you, Sera. I hate what happened to you in high school.”
“Me too,” I answer honestly, offering a smile with my reply. “But there’s no changing the past.”
“Hmm,” Ava muses. “Did Lincoln come last night?”
“I did,” I answer automatically, and my eyes widen at the slip. “Oh my god. Pretend you didn’t hear that.”
“I need to wash my mind out with soap.” Ava cringes before breaking out into a wide grin. “But also, hell yeah. How was it?”
I shake my head, refusing to answer. “I am not talking about Lincoln with you.”
Ava rolls her eyes. “Prude. Just be careful, okay? And if anything else happens, call the police.”
I nod and reach to my side to grab her hand. “I promise, Ava Maria.”
“Why do you think this coffee comes in a bowl?” CeCe asks, interrupting our side conversation as she stares at the literal bowl of coffee delivered to our table after she ordered a caffè crema .
“It’s so that you can dip a croissant or other pastry easily.” Serena hums from behind her menu, not bothering to look up as she responds.
“Hmm.” CeCe takes a sip, lifting the bowl just high enough that it hovers over the bottom plate while she bends over to drink. Setting the bowl down gently, she turns to Ava. “So, how’s wedding planning?”
I look at my sister, noting how she glows under the soft lighting in her pale-lavender dress. “We’re done.” She shrugs, lifting her coffee to her lips and blowing on the steam. “Grey’s father’s friend rents the space out for weddings frequently, so we just had to agree on a package and let the coordinators do everything. I need to find a dress, but since we’re not having a bridal party, we don’t have to worry about any of that stuff.”
Bianca holds up her hand. “Wait a damn minute. What do you mean you’re not having a bridal party?”
“Between all of you, our cousins, and Grey’s family, there would be twenty people, and it’s too much.” Ava shakes her head, twisting her face in a scowl to show how she rejects that idea. “If we could, I’d elope with just Grey, but I know that Mom and Dad would kill me if I even suggested it.”
B slumps back against the pink cushioned bench seat. “Well, that sucks. I wanted to give a maid of honor speech.”
CeCe scoffs at her words. “We both know I’d be the maid of honor. You’d probably bring up all the weird shit Ava did in her childhood.”
“Yeah? Well, you’d probably talk about how all she does is trip over air and embarrass herself.”
“See,” Ava cuts in. “This is another reason why I don’t want a bridal party.”
Smirking, I lose myself in the menu, studying the food offerings as though there will be a test on it later. I’m on the juice selection when CeCe’s voice jerks my attention away from the description of the cantaloupe mint julep. “Are you all coming to the lake house for the Fourth?”
Excited yeses rush out, leaving just me silent. I don’t expect anyone to realize I haven’t responded, but the prickle of eyes has me glancing around the table. “What?”
“Are you coming?”
Clearing my throat, I set my menu down. “I have to check with work and look over my class schedule. Plus, Liv probably has to work, and I don’t want to leave her home.” I swallow at my words, thinking back to the conversation I had with Olivia earlier today. The last thing I wanted to do was leave her alone, but I had to respect her request. I almost stayed home, but when I heard the front door slam shut while I was in the bathroom, I knew Olivia made an escape.
“Nice try, pumpkin.”
I wrinkle my nose at the nickname. “Don’t call me pumpkin, Ava. And what do you mean nice try?”
“You’re coming. Both you and Olivia. If I need to drag your squirming bodies out of that apartment, down the hall, into an elevator, and then shove you in the back of a car to transport you to the house, I will.”
I cough at her threat. “That was oddly specific.”
“Yet I’m the fucking aggressive one.” CeCe hums, taking a sip of her ridiculously loaded Bloody Mary. “But Aves is right; you guys have to come. If you request it off now, you shouldn’t have any issues with the library, right?”
“I don’t—”
“You’ll be fine, Seraphina. May is always understanding when it comes to time off.”
“Thanks, Serena,” I say through gritted teeth, glaring at her from the corner of my eye.
“Oh, sorry. Was I supposed to say the opposite? I never know in these situations.”
“It’s been almost five years, and you’re still constantly apologizing.” Ava laughs, distracting Serena and CeCe from conversations about lake houses and paid time off. Releasing a breath, I set my menu aside and pick up my water, taking a long sip. I look up, startled to find Bianca’s eyes on me across the table.
“You’re going.” I raise a brow in response. “I’m serious, you’re going. Figure it out. Ava isn’t doing a bachelorette party, and this is likely the last time we’re going to have a chance to do anything like this before the wedding.”
“I highly doubt that.”
“It is. Now do whatever you have to do, get over your shit, talk to Olivia, and make it happen.”
“Did you guys hear about Lincoln and that harpy Gemma?”
“She wasn’t that bad,” Serena comments, though her voice holds no conviction.
“She was exactly that bad. Don’t you remember the time she asked Celeste if she could fetch her a new drink because she thought she was the bartender at her and Dante’s house party last summer? Or that time she asked me how much I weighed and then told me she had a friend that sold beeswax pills if I needed help with my BMI?”
“You’re joking.” I don’t hold back my comment, shocked by Ava’s confession.
“Hand on the Bible. I don’t know if she was part of some MLM scheme or if she just watched too many TikToks about herbal supplements, but it was the most bizarre conversation of my life. And I’m a private chef for rich clients, so I meet some weird people.”
“Linc told Dante that Gemma showed up at his apartment this morning. He was on the phone and basically screaming into the receiver. She thought they’d get back together after a few weeks apart.”
The sip of water I just took threatens to rise back up my esophagus, and I cough, clearing the urge to vomit.
“You okay, Ser?” Ava pats my back with more aggression than warranted, and I wince at her force.
“I’m fine.” I wave her off, leaning away from her brute strength.
“Anyway,” CeCe continues, “Gemma freaked out when he told her there was no chance of them getting back together.”
“I feel bad for her,” Serena comments around a bite of bacon from her Bloody Mary. “I can’t imagine it’s easy to have lost someone you love and your apartment all at once.”
My older sister snorts her disagreement. “Gemma didn’t love Lincoln. She was using him for a free ride and the connections his mother and father could provide.”
“That’s not fair. You don’t know what their relationship was like behind closed doors.” I keep silent; listening to Serena and Ava argue about Gemma makes me slightly ill and entirely uncomfortable, but like bad TV, I’m addicted to the scene in front of me.
“Sure, maybe in the beginning they loved each other, or maybe it was a mutual respect. But Lincoln told Grey on multiple occasions that Gemma wanted to meet his dad, his contacts in the broadcasting world, and was trying to get Linc’s father to take her on as a client. Something about that never sat right with me.”
“Hmm, well, I guess it doesn’t matter anymore since they broke up,” Serena concedes, shrugging. “I wonder if Lincoln will come to the lake house.” Her eyes shift to me as she says it, a spark of mischief in her golden gaze that I look away from.
“If our little Seraphina’s there, I’m sure he’ll come.”
“Good thing she’s coming,” Bianca quips from across the table.
“Shut up, Bianca.” I find myself repeating a phrase I say almost daily.
“I’m just saying—”
“Hi, everyone. Welcome to Le Vol. What can I get started for you?” Like a beacon, the waitress interrupts Bianca, shifting everyone’s attention away from Lincoln, Gemma, and me and back to their menus. One by one, we order our meals, and the girls order refills of their cocktails before the waitress’s attention turns back to me. “Any cocktail for you? We have a full menu of prosecco drinks if you’re interested.”
“No, thank you.” I shake my head, denying the offer. “I have work, but maybe next time.” I hand her back the menu. While I wish I could dive into a Bellini right now, I doubt May would appreciate me showing up to work buzzed.
“You have to go to the library today?” CeCe asks, wrinkling her nose as though my work schedule is offensive.
“Just for a few hours.”
“A perfect opportunity to request time off.” CeCe’s eyebrows rise up and down, and I shake my head, laughing at her display.
“Drink your Bloody Mary, you pain in the ass.”
Manufactured shock stamps across CeCe’s features before she laughs. “Ava, stop teaching sweet Sera to be mean!”