“That’s one possibility. She was getting those letters. What do you think they said? She was always so hush-hush about them.”
“I have no clue.”
“Do you think we’ll ever see her again? What if something was really wrong for her to leave under the radar? What if we’ve been so deep in our own lives that we ignored her?”
I look at the letter again then back at my friend. I love how thoughtful Everleigh is and how intensely she cares about the people in her life, but Sylvia was riding through life to her own tune. “We didn’t ignore her, Ev. Wedidtry to be there for her, but she pushed us away. You saw how she got when she was approached about certain topics. What were we supposed to do?”
She worries her lip. “Yeah. You’re right. It just sucks. We were friends,Vi, and now we’re nothing but two people who live in different countries?” Her concern shifts. “What are we going to do about the rent? Her family paid a bigger portion. Fuck, we’re going to be screwed next year.”
Cutting through the space between us, I wrap my arms around her and squeeze. She’s not wrong to worry. Sylvia’s parents did pay a bigger portion because they’re, to put it simply, loaded beyond what our imaginations can conjure. “We’ll find someone to rent out Sylvia’s room, and it’ll be fine. Worse case, we’ll both chip in more if we want to stay in the building. We can always downscale to a smaller apartment, too.”
“Vi, my parents can’t pick up more of my rent,” she admits with a hint of embarrassment. “My stepdad has been out of work since October. He was helping a family friend move and sidestepped on the curb and fell. Apparently, he was walking around with a broken neck for weeks. The doctor’s rushed him in for emergency surgery when they found it.”
“Oh, my God. Why didn’t you say anything?”
She shakes her head. “I didn’t want to bother you when you’re already going through so much with Colson. And, anyway, he’s going to be okay, but their income took a hit from it, and they don’t know when he’ll be back to work full time. I don’t want to put that kind of pressure on them when the most important thing is him healing and getting back on his feet.”
She wraps her arms around me and sinks into my embrace. “I’m so sorry for not being here for you,” I whisper. “If there’s anything I can do, you’ll let me know?”
“Ugh, stop,” she groans. “You are here for me. It’s on me for keeping it on the down low. Between that, Tristan, and dealing with the professor I T.A. for, my patience is dwindling quickly. I legit could fill up a bucket full of tears right now,” she huffs out in a sad laugh.
I pull back, my brows furrowed in concern. “What’s going on with your professor?”
“It’s nothing.” She sighs, but I can hear that it’s definitelysomething.
“I don’t believe that for one second.”
“Let’s just say he's a total ass. A broody, miserable,growlyknow-it-all.”
“Aren’t those the kind of guys you read about in your books?” I ponder aloud to help shift the mood. Last week she was swooning over the male main character in the romance book she was reading because he did this huge public display of affection and at the end of it growled the words, “you’re mine,” into the female character’s ear.
“They’re sexy when they’re fictional. Not so much when they’re six feet tall and every other word out of their mouth can be taken as an insult.”
I wince, sort of glad I’m not the one having to deal with it but feeling every sympathetic bone in my body reach out to her. “Can you switch over and T.A. for a different professor?”
She shakes her head. “It was supposed to happen that way but the original professor had something come up and Chatham U had to bring in a fill-in. He’s who I got, so sadly, I’m stuck with him.”
“Brutal,” I murmur.
“Mmm, you don’t even know.”
I look at Sylvia’s letter again, feeling the strain in my muscles. Yoga always helps, but having this dropped on me while simultaneously worrying for Ev has the knots in my muscles tightening all over again. I need a bath pronto, the warm water dulling the ache in my body if only for a little while.
Ev hops off the counter and makes a quick coffee before retreating to her bedroom for the remainder of the night. She promises she’s okay, and that if anything changes, she’ll comefind me. We decide to sort out the rent issue when we’re both more clearheaded.
I find myself in the bathroom later that night, my body covered by warmth with my eyes closed and my head relaxed back. After the water starts to turn the slightest bit cooler, my phone pings from the floor. I’m half inclined to ignore it and continue soaking but it’s late, and if it’s Olive, I want to make sure her trip back to Florida went okay. That she’s all unpacked and ready for the start of the new semester.
I grab a washcloth from beside me and dry my hands then reach down for it. I don’t realize how long I’ve been in the tub until I find it’s after midnight when I unlock the screen and swipe to access my unread message. Familiarity swoops in my belly when I see Colson’s name at the top of my unread texts.
What could he possibly want? We ended what was between us. For real, this time. So why is he messaging me this late?
Nerves skitter through my bloodstream as I weigh out my decision to open it and read it versus just letting it go. I’m trying to be a new version of myself, one where I don’t cave. I caved with Webber until I didn’t. I don’t want to keep doing it with Colson, not when it comes with this insurmountable affliction that clutches my heart every time after.
Against my better judgment, I open the message. A masochist, I am. At least for the moment.
Colson:Need to see you. Can we meet up?
I blink, rereading it numerous times before I drop the phone to the floor, screen still lit, and rest back against the tub. A million different scenarios run free in my mind.
