Page 119 of Bring You Back

26

Grapefruit, Part Two

Camille

“No,” Mitch says from behind his cluttered desk. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

After my night of fitful sleep—that not even ASMR could cure—I crept out of the house at dawn to come sit outside the shop until it opened. Now I’m standing inside the shop, begging my old boss for my job back.

Beggingisn’t the right word. There is literally no enthusiasm behind my case. I don’t even have a case. I didn’t think I’d need one—it’s a new day, and with that comes a new perspective for most people. A reevaluation of yesterday’s poor choices. But Ditchy Mitchy is living up to his new nickname, not as tightly wrapped around Reyna’s finger as I thought. There are loose threads in the form of smart mouths that alienate the sensitive creatures who keep him in business.

“You can,” I say. “You just have to say the word.”

He stares, unamused at my mocking presentation of the wordword. “I’ve had too many complaints,” he says, and I roll my eyes. Which I’m sure doesn’t help my nonexistent case. “Too many people threatening to stop coming here if you’re here.”

“Like that will actually happen. This is the only ice cream shop in town,” I point out. Ah, maybe I do have a case after all. I cock a challenging brow.

“No. I’m sorry,” he repeats in an effort to shoo me off, and I question why I’m even here. I hated almost everything about this job. I don’t even like Mitch.

I needed out of the house. I needed to avoid Julian. I needed a reason to keep leaving the house, to keep avoiding Julian.

I needed a distraction.

It’s happening again.

I’m running on emotions, letting them control me. Letting them change me.

I won’t be controlled.

I won’t be changed.

I stand straighter. “Well, I’m not.”

With that, I turn and walk out, walk over the steps I took to come back in here, shifting the prints on the floor.

Sorry, Reyna. Looks like you’ll never forgive me.

Speaking of Reyna, my phone vibrates with her text as I shove the door out of my way, letting it swing back behind me.

Hey! Where are you?? I’m at the house. Meet me!

I could laugh if I wasn’t so exhausted and imagining burning down an ice cream shop.

Reyna texting me from the house, telling me to meet her, means one thing: Julian isn’t there to keep her occupied.

I exhale relief at the thought. The house—specifically the guest room—is the only place I want to be, especially if I can avoid Julian again. I want my bed. I want to snuggle my cat. And I want to do these thingsalone. So I text out a lie to get Reyna to leave.

I won’t be there for a while. Don’t wait up.

I push through the invading crowd entering the boardwalk, and speed past the open doors of C&C in case Julian’s inside watching passersby.

“She’s not coming.”

I hear Tommy and his disappointment as soon as I walk through the door. I halt. All three of my friends are gathered around the island, three sets of saddened, comforting stares now fixed to me.

They were waiting.

When I step up to see what’s on the plates in front of them, I figure out why. My heart spasms against my ribcage, forcing a breath through my tightening throat. A grapefruit, covered in honey with a small unlit candle sticking up from the middle, sits in the center of the plates—one for each of them … and one for me.

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