I think I’m having a heart attack. It’s racing a mile a second. The ache in my chest expands with every passing heartbeat, and I cannotbreathe.
So when I continue to stare in stunned silence, she blabbers some more.
“I was on this dating app, and he messaged me through there. Did you know prisoners could evenbeon dating apps? Well, I mean, it's meant specifically for prisoners or ex-cons. Obviously. But it’s crazy what they’re allowed to do these days. Anyway.” She waves her hand, moving herself along. “We started talking through there, and then I gavehim my number. But we wrote letters the old-fashioned way, too. Texts are so impersonal, and we couldn’t always talk on the phone. I wanted to have something special to look back on when we’re older. It makes communicating with him more meaningful and exciting, ya know? Just waiting for that letter to come in the mail. And when it did?” She clasps her hands and stares off into the distance wistfully. “My stomach would fill with butterflies, and the happiness I felt was so overwhelming, I would just squeal like a little girl.”
She waves her hand yet again. “I’m waxing on, I know. But yeah, we just hit it off really well. I'm sorry we hid it from you for so long, by the way, but he didn't want to introduce me to you until he was sure about us and we got more serious, ya know? Didn't want to jump the gun or anything, which I totally understand.” She flicks her wrist nonchalantly, like it was no big deal for her to wait.
I blink several times, still trying to process.
“Oh, and he told me all about you as a kid, and his late wife, Regina. I’m so sorry for her passing, by the way.” My mouth opens, but she just mows on over that comment. “It was really sweet the way he talked about you. He loves you so much, and I could tell he was such a good father to you. And of course, we talked about the trial, and my God—” She puts a hand over her heart, her lips pouting with empathy. “—what you guys went through is just absolutely awful. I’m so heartbroken for you and Lionel. And I find it so fitting that Kellan’s nickname is Dreadful.”
She rolls her eyes, disgust passing over her features at the mention of him, while I proceed with my heart attack.
“But he’s getting out now! I’m going to visit him once he gets settled in, and if you want to carpool with me to see him, I would absolutely love that. Girl bonding time, right? I hope we can be friends. I’m sorry I introduced myself to you this way, but I…” She glances down shyly, fiddling with her fingers before peeking up at me through her red glasses. “I really love him, Reverie. Like, really,reallylove him. I know he’s a lot older than me. Obviously old enough to be my dad.” She chuckles awkwardly, but grows serious again. “We’ve already talked about moving in together once I graduate. I’ll go back to California for a while, and, eventually, we’d like to move back to Colorado so he can be closer to you—” She quickly interrupts herself. “I mean, unless you plan on living somewhere else? I’m getting an education degree, so I couldgo anywhere, but don't worry. We can figure that out later. I'd prefer somewhere with a good school system, though, for when we eventually have kids?—”
I stand up so suddenly, the wooden chair clatters to the floor behind me. Roxi startles, her mouth flopping open. Students beyond the bookshelves gasp at the loud sound, but after several quiet moments, they resume their low chatter.
Meanwhile, my heart pounds hard enough to bruise the inside of my heaving chest, and tears rush to the surface as I glare down at her.
Her eyes round, and she glances around once again with an ‘oh shit’ expression.
“I-I’m sorry. Too much, too fast. I need to slow down, I know. Fuck, I’m sorry. This was probably way too much for you at once. Definitely inappropriate for me to even bring that up to you before you’ve even spoken to your father. I really fucked this up. I’m so sorry, Reverie,” she rambles, quickly getting up from her chair.
She grabs her notebooks and turns to leave but then hesitates. Biting her lip, she whips around to face me with an earnest expression.
“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry Dread has put you through everything he has. I’ve vented plenty to your father about his unfair treatment of you, and Lionel and I agree Dread should be punished for all that he’s done. But yeah, I just wanted to say that. You don’t deserve any of it. Your father is innocent, and if you ever feel alone here at HCU for believing and loving him, just know that I do, too. And you can always talk to me or whatever if you ever need.”
A tear bubbles over the edge of my bottom lashes, and after another moment of hesitating, she finally turns and leaves, her shoulders hiked to her ears as she mutters beneath her breath, sounding as if she's berating herself.
I watch her leave until she disappears behind a shelf, but my stare locks on to the spot she vanished from.
It’s tragically poetic, seeing her blink out like that.
What a daunting omen.
My phone rings, startling me out of the trance I’d fallen into and sending my heart rocketing up my throat. One poorly timed sneeze, andit'll come flying out of my nose.
Heart pounding, I lift my butt from the couch enough to slide the device from my back pocket and see Barry calling. After standing and staring in a daze at where Roxi disappeared for a solid five minutes, I snapped out of it and immediately called him. Instead of answering my call, he’d texted there’d been another copycat murder and he’d call me back as soon as he could.
That only made me panic worse, so I gathered up my papers, called Sable, and drove straight to her house.
Which, in hindsight, probably wasn’t safe for me to do, considering I have no recollection of driving here.
When I arrived, I collapsed on the couch and rehashed the story to Sable, and she did what she does best—cheer me up with her cooking. She’s in the kitchen now, Bad Bunny playing softly in the background while she makes metembleque.
“Hey,” I answer, putting the phone on speaker and settling it on my chest.
“Hey, honey,” Barry greets, his voice weighed with exhaustion, though it's not lacking in gentleness. “What’s goin’ on?”
“Lionel has a girlfriend,” I say tonelessly. My head is cycling through the five stages of grief in a constant loop, and right now, I’ve landed on depression. “And she just so happens to be attending HCU.”
Silence.
Numbly, I wait, understanding the shock he’s experiencing. He’s probably going through the five stages of grief, too.
“Please, Rev,” he starts, his voice now tight. He pauses for a moment to exhale heavily. “Please tell me you’re joking.”
I flatten my lips into a thin line. “No can do,” I say. “She introduced herself to me. Her name is Roxi, and she’s a senior here, too.”
