Summer #2
“And you know damn well if I tell you everything now, you’ll rush into something that might cost you your life.
” Raven’s eyes peel from the ground to level with mine.
I hope her wall of tears prevents her from seeing all the pain I can’t hide.
“I promise, in time I’ll tell you everything, but for now I have no intention of risking your safety. ”
Raven pulls me into a hug again, and her body is shaking so violently, it makes me run soothing circles on her back, as the only thing I know helps her.
“Are the men responsible— ” She sniffles. “—here? Is this why you’re here?”
“No. If they were, they would’ve been dead already. I’ll handle this.”
“There isn’t anyone on earth more stubborn than you, so I’m not pressing further now, but you promise me one thing—you’re getting out of whatever you’re doing alive.”
How do I promise that, knowing how slim the chances are? I don’t enjoy lying, though I’m damn good at it, but I’ve never done it with Raven before. For once, I’ll have to.
“Of course. Do you doubt me?”
“Never.” That single quiet word is full of hesitation. “But I’m still mad at you for not contacting me right away. Ten months, Maeve! How could you leave me thinking you were dead all along?” Raven lets out those words in a silent cry.
“I’m so sorry. I thought I was protecting you by staying away.”
Raven wipes another stray tear with the back of her sleeve of what I can only bet is a grossly overpriced jacket, before finding the strength to look back at me.
“What’s up with the red hair? Don’t get me wrong. It looks perfect on you, but your black hair was amazing. And besides, you know what they say about women with red hair? It’s red for a reason, so men can spot the red flag from afar.”
A sudden change of the topic. It’s what she used to do ever since we were kids when she was on the verge of a breakdown, and didn’t want me to witness it.
I welcome the distraction, and I’m grateful she doesn’t ask the “how” question again. I can’t talk about it even with her. Not while the villains of my story are still breathing.
I replay her words about the red flags in my head, chuckling as a delayed response.
“Then why aren’t you sporting red hair, too? You have plenty of red flags yourself,” I retort. Surprisingly enough, I manage a meek smile.
Raven wipes my cheek with her thumb before she answers.
“I like to keep mine hidden.”
“No, you don’t.” I swallow hard and let the silence stretch in its heaviness.
But when the weight gets too much, I nudge her shoulder, determined to further put distance between the sorrowful topic trapping both our minds.
“Sooo you and Link . . .” What better distraction than mentioning the only man Raven has ever liked besides my brother?
“You’re one to talk with Atlas under your belt. Or is it you under his?”
The mention of his name alone pulls me a million miles away from the emotional state occupying my body, shaking me, tearing me apart from the inside, mere moments ago. Still, I’m not going to let her mockery go unpunished, and elbowing her seems fitting for the occasion.
“Bitch!” I add lovingly, while she squirms.
“You know, the whole campus is pretty much talking about you today. Atlas Holt’s girlfriend, who hit him and lived to see the day. You’ll be an urban legend now.”
“And to think I only bitch-slapped him. I didn’t give him a proper punch in the face like my dad had taught me.”
“Well, I’d say I wish I were there to see it, but your whole interaction has gone viral, so I saw it about a dozen times . . . and I laughed my ass off. Then I scrubbed it off the net, just in case . . . to keep you safe.”
I don’t know whether to elbow her again or hug her.
Then she goes silent, staring into the distance, smile faltering and disappearing, until it’s no longer present. Her whole expression holds not a shred of the entertainment it did a moment ago.
“How messed up are we to be falling for guys like them?” Raven eyes me while fiddling with her mother’s ring.
A lot.
“How messed up are they to be falling for chicks like us?”
A timid curl creeps at the corner of her lips.
“Link’s a handful, but he’s getting under my skin.”
I choke to death laughing on the inside at the quiet meaning of her words, knowing that little piece of information about what Link did to her skincare this last summer.
I meant to replace her face cream and body butter, but for fuck’s sake, her cream alone costs around two grand.
I couldn’t afford that. So all I was left with was the soothing thought I’m still a good friend since scientific evidence suggests semen is good for your skin.
“Yeah. I know what you mean.”
“You know, because you like Atlas.”
“Nooo! I never said that.”
“You’re forgetting I’m well aware of your taste in men. If there ever was a perfect specimen to cater to it, being custom-ordered for you, that’s Atlas Holt.”
She’s referring to the striking similarity in both appearance and dangerous behavior, which both Atlas and Milo’s best friend, Reyes, who also happens to be my first, carry.
But I want no memories of Mateo Reyes to spring to mind.
Having your cherry popped and then not even being acknowledged isn’t exactly a fond memory.
“If we’re speaking in your terms, then Atlas is like a Birkin ordered on Etsy.”
Raven’s chuckle is heavy, but it’s the closest to her laughter I’ve gotten in so long. I’ve missed that sound.
“You can tell this bullshit to whoever you’d like, even to yourself, but not to me. You’ll end up with him.”