Page 13 of Roses in Summer

I don’t know what I expected, but the simple “Hi” wasn’t it. Letting my fingers fly across the screen, I try to engage him in conversation.

Seraphina: I’m sorry I’ve been so MIA today. What are you up to?

Minutes tick by as I wait, watching my screen to read his response. It takes longer than the first response, but I’m greeted with two messages when a response eventually comes through.

Lincoln: I thought you forgot about me, ciern.

Lincoln: We’re at a party with the girls.

My fingers zoom in on the selfie Lincoln just sent, spending long seconds reacquainting myself with his face before returning the photo to its original size. My eyes catch on my sister Ava, her boyfriend, Greyson, Celeste, her boyfriend, Dante, and their friend Serena.

Another text immediately follows.

Lincoln: Can you FaceTime?

My eyes widen, and I shoot off the bed, running into the hall bathroom to wash the acne medicine spotting my face. Scrubbing at my skin rougher than I should, I quickly apply tinted moisturizer and lip balm so I don’t look deathly pale in the dim light. Surveying myself in the mirror, I shake my head at my stupidity. He probably expects me to be in bed, not dressed up, ready to go out.

Drawing in a breath, I respond to his message as I walk back into my room and shut the door behind me.

Seraphina: Yeah, I can FaceTime.

The call comes in seconds later. I hesitate, closing my eyes tightly before swiping to answer.

“Ciern, you in bed?” Lincoln’s voice fills the room, though his camera captures the party rather than his face.

“Hi, Lincoln.”

“Is that my sweatshirt?”

Looking down, I silently curse at myself. The night I met Lincoln, before driving me home, he ran into his bedroom to grab me a sweatshirt to protect me from the early fall chill. I never gave it back, and I don’t plan to. “It’s cold.”

“Whatever you say. Oh shit, let me turn my camera. Wait, give me a minute.” He pauses, mumbling indecipherably before his face finally pops up on the screen.

He smiles at me, his green eyes vibrant even in the reddish lights of the party. “That’s better. Now, why are you up?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” I offer lamely.

“Liar. You missed me, didn’t you?”

I smile, shaking my head. “You’re delusional.” We both know I’m lying.

“Ciern, as much as I want to talk to you, you should get some rest. Don’t you have school tomorrow?”

“If I’m not mistaken, you’re the one who asked to call me. Did you want to get me on the phone to yell at me?”

His smile is sinful, telling me everything I need to know without him having to pair words with his expression. He opens his mouth to respond when a high-pitched shriek cuts him off.

“Oh my god! Lincoln!” calls from behind him, just before a group of women enter the frame. I shrink into the pillows, trying to hide my plain appearance from the glamorous women peering at Lincoln and his phone. “Oh, how sweet. You’re calling your baby sister,” one of the girls comments, making me want to die a slow, painful death.

“I’m not his sister,” I mumble at the same time Lincoln says, “I don’t have a fucking sister.”

“A cousin then? Hi, baby cousin Simmons.” Squeezing my eyes shut, I shake my head, wilting rapidly at this turn of events.

Lincoln lets out a laugh as though the interruption is comical and not mortifying for me. “Sera, I’ll call you back in a few. If you need to sleep, go to bed, and I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“R-right.” My voice cracks. “Goodnight.” I hang up, not allowing him to respond.

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