Page 33 of Ripple Effect

“Daisy,” I begin, her name sounding oddly formal in the cool night air. “You know you don’t have to do this, right? If you just said all that to get Dr. Foster off our backs, I don’t blame you.”

She glances up at me, surprise etched on her face. “Elio, I wasn’t fibbing,” she says with such conviction. “It’s really no trouble. My roommate will barely notice I’m gone. And I can just sleep on your couch.”

“You’re okay camping out with a near stranger?”

She chuckles. “You’re hardly a stranger. By now, I feel like I’ve known you forever. Besides, I’ll let my friends know where I am and how to get in touch. It’s not as if I’ll be disappearing off the face of the planet.”

“I could just get one of those Life Alert devices or something.”

She shakes her head, adamant. “You’re not getting out of this that easily.”

“Okay,” I say. “But I don’t want to feel indebted to you ... If there’s anything you want, anything you need, you just let me know.”

Her playful smile widens. “I’ll think of something, don’t you worry about that.”

“Alright.” I run a ragged hand through my hair, clear my throat, and then, “That’s good.”

“I need to go and grab a few things from my place, though,” she says, pulling out her phone and tapping out a quick text. “Gracie’s gonna pick me up, but not until after you’re all settled in.”

“I can handle one measly flight of stairs and a quick sprawl onto my couch.”

She gives me a stern look, one that’s all too endearing. “Just humor me, alright? Besides, it wouldn’t hurt you to have an extra pair of hands.”

“Fine,” I say, fighting a grin.

As we climb the steps to my apartment, the absence of daylight presses on my consciousness. I’m supposed to be filming a scene with Alex in less than twenty minutes, and my phone is a fucking dead weight in my pocket.

Once again, I’m the unreliable one, the flake, ducking out on a coworker without any notice. And this time, I didn’t even have the decency to send a quick text first.

Not to mention, my apartment is a mess. I’m not at all prepared for a guest—let alone one who’s about to become my temporary roommate. I know there are probably forgotten pizza boxes, strewn laundry, and miscellaneous items scattered around my living room.

We finally reach my door, and I fumble with my keys, an echo of the nerves creeping up my spine. I can’t ignore the reality of what’s happening here: Daisy’s going to be living with me, in my personal space, for fourteen long days.

For better or worse, there’s no going back now.

As I push the door open, I cast a quick glance back at her. She smiles at me again, something so soft and so sweet. And under the faint hallway light, she seems wholly unfazed, her constant presence soothing the doubts churning inside me.

“Welcome to my little corner of the world,” I mutter, struggling to keep my voice steady. “And, well, our home for the next two weeks.”

14

DAISY

As the night closes in,I settle into the passenger seat of Gracie’s car. The streets are barely lit, but she navigates the route to our apartment with the ease of familiarity. It’s quiet between us for a while, my mind spinning while Gracie obviously attempts to hold her tongue.

“So, you’re really doing this, huh?” she finally asks, her voice barely audible over the hum of the engine.

“Yeah, it looks that way.”

“You know, I have nothing against Elio, personally. But you barely know him,” she says softly, carefully. “Staying at his place for two weeks feels a bit extreme, don’t you think?”

“I know it sounds bizarre, but ... it just feels right to do this,” I say, struggling to find the right words. “He’s not in a good place, Grace, and he’s basically all alone. I can’t just abandon him. Besides, you’re the one who was surprised I hadn’t roped him into lifelong friendship.”

She sighs, the sound filled with unspoken words. “It’s just—you’re just so trusting, Daze,” she says, but she doesn’t push the matter any further.

Once we get home, I pack a bag, shoving in some clothes, my toothbrush, and a couple of books. Just when I’m about to zip it up, my gaze lands on the bottom drawer of my dresser ... the same one I’ve been avoiding for weeks now.

My fingers twitch, itching to yank it open, to confront the past hiding within. The smiling faces of Logan and me, frozen in a moment of pure joy and blissful ignorance. We’d been so happy once, so foolishly in love.

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