Page 50 of One Spicy Summer

I hear shuffling as the music fades. “What do you need me to do?” Rafe asks immediately.

“Go check on him.”

“A step ahead of you, sis. Standby.”

The call drops, and I’m left gnawing on my nails, a disgusting habit IthoughtI kicked.

Twenty agonizing minutes later, my phone rings. I answer before the first buzz fades. “What did you find?” I blurt.

“The place was trashed when I got here, but... I found a note. Presley, did Ry ever tell you he was pledging Alpha Phi Delta?”

All the panic whooshes out of me like a popped balloon. I suck in a huge breath of air, feeling the tension drain from my body.

“No, he didn’t,” I say, laughing weakly. “God, Rafe, I was so scared something awful happened.”

“Rest easy, sis. Your boo thang’s alive and kicking,” he says, laughing, but it’s strained. Just as I open my mouth to ask what'sreallygoing on, I hear shouting. “Oh shit, looks like it’s my turn. Talk to you later, sis!” The line goes dead.

Guess Rafe pledged, too... and just forgot to mention it.

Assholes.

Still, I’m feeling a thousand times better as I head downstairs to microwave my dinner. Sucks to be Ry in a few days. Tonightwas supposed to be ourFreaky Friday, and my period starts in two days.Good luck getting a raincheck, buddy.

Thankfully, my periods aren’tAgatha-leveldisasters. When that girl’s time of the month hits, it’s like unleashing Godzilla on the city.

Me? I’m a perfect little angel. Just... make sure my heating pad and chocolate stash are locked and loaded.

Laughing to myself, I grab my plate off the stove and pop it into the microwave. As the timer counts down, I think about when I’ll get to see Ry’s face again.

I don't know all the rules about pledging, but I do know it can get intense.Please don’t take my phone time away, pledging gods.

Welp. Looks like it’s just me, my food, and Netflix tonight.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Presley

August

It’s been twelve weeks since I talked to Ry and Rafe told me they were pledging some fraternity Ry never even mentioned.

Eight weeks since I started eating my feelings.

Four weeks since my very first meltdown.

We’ve never gone this long without talking, without something, a text, a FaceTime, a stupid meme, and it’s slowly killing me inside.

Every time I call Rafe, desperate for any kind of update, all he sends back is a clipped text:We're good. Chill on the calls.How the fuck am I supposed to just ‘chill’ when my heart is thousands of miles away with him? When my whole lifeishim?

I’m breaking, and no one seems to notice, or worse, they notice and don't care. Still, I push through. I throw myself into ballet, clawing onto something that still feels likemine.

It’s the second week of school, and honestly, I feel like a zombie. Not even the cool, brain-eating kind. Just... here. Floating.

At my locker, fumbling with the combination, Agatha comes sprinting toward me, shoving her phone right in my face. “Betch! Have you fucking seen this?” she blurts.

“First of all, hi, how are you? Second, what the hell am I looking at?” I say, grabbing her phone and flipping it around.

The second I see the screen, my stomach drops.

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