Page 8 of Villainous Summer

In high school, the four of us came up with code for when we needed each other.

Chartreuse: I am emotionally unwell and might throw up.

Vermilion: I’m about to murder someone.

I was the only one who deployed this one.

Khaki: I’m incredibly bored and need company.

Obsidian: the highest level, only to be deployed in a genuine emergency.

We had used this one only once, when Devin’s father passed away two years before.

Autumn didn’t read it, being the only one who left the read receipts on like a sociopath. Probably because she always responds immediately instead of forgetting about the message and panic-texting five hours later OMG, I just saw this—the way normal people did.

While Angie and a guest discussed the best place to get Italian food, I stayed in my office, comparing the cost of paper products until my eyes blurred. Heels kicked off under my desk, I buried my toes in the plush carpet, trying to center myself, as Autumn instructed.

Tense your toes, then release and feel the ground beneath you, then move up—

The soft alternative music filtered from the lobby. My hands in my hair, I dragged my nails over my scalp, pulling strands loose from the low bun. Brown tendrils fell across my face, and I stared at them.

I was a natural blonde—not platinum, more dishwater ash. Two years ago, some lady at a salon recommended I go darker. That it would play up my blue eyes and make my cheekbones “pop.” I had been a faithful servant to 5G-Cinnamon Pecan box dye ever since.

After switching to my texts for the fifth time in the last fifteen minutes, I tried to send a psychic message to Autumn to call her favorite cousin back. Instead, all I had was her daily group chat affirmation.

Autumn: I am fully in charge of my future. I am the only one who can dictate the outcome.

Rolling my eyes, I set the phone on the desk beside my feminist icon of the day calendar.

Easy for her to say. But then again, she always made things look effortless, even while struggling inside. Her eternal optimism was grating at times, but she was so sincere it was hard to fault her for it.

Unlike me. Since returning, it was as if I had a wet cloak over my shoulders, weighing me down and chilling me. Never letting me forget the mistake I had made and how blind I was to not see through his bullshit. That’s what happens when they look for the positive; they don’t see the flashing lights until they’ve blown through the multiple stop signs, just to be T-boned by a semi.

Okay, maybe that was dramatic. But, seriously, I allowed myself to put blind trust in that boy, and still, a month later, the memory of his engagement photo haunted me. The living, breathing, tinkling laugh was proof in the bar of my hotel.

Maybe a notification in the group text would get Autumn’s attention.

Summer: I wish the rest of you were closer so we could have a drink together. I need some girl time!!!!

Wren: me toooo!!! Adrian and I will be in town this weekend for the fireworks and the parade? We can meet up then? Beers at Sticky Cow? You can meet our dog, Maizie!

Devin: Yes!!! I have to stop by my grandpa’s party for a bit but after that let’s get a burger and ride the Zipper until we puke?

Wren: Just looking at the zipper makes me want to puke.

No response from Autumn.

Scrubbing my face with my hand, I fought the urge to scream in frustration. After the champagne hurling and a slight case of illegal trespassing, I tried to put the incident behind me.

I was doing well at work and went back to trivia nights with my girlfriends—but lost terribly. Every Sunday, I delivered groceries to my father, who cooked dinner for us. I practiced the cable stitch for the baby blanket I had promised my cousin Alec, who was due in November. On the surface, everything in my life was practically the same as before I met Cory.

But deep down, something shifted inside me. At the store the week before, the cute guy behind the deli counter added extra spicy honey turkey to my one-pound package. When he winked at me, my first thought was I bet this piece of shit is married.

When Wren mentioned she was sick with a cold and that her new boyfriend went to see his friends Penny and Tam, I told her they were probably all sleeping together. She had the decency to demand I take it back, which I did, with a chagrined apology.

I couldn’t trust a single man, and worst of all, I couldn’t trust myself.

Was I in love with Cory?

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