Page 53 of When You Stayed
I decided not to hunt down Connor and instead used my rage to tick off the request Natty left me with. Some time alone, up near my favorite place on Earth was probably a good idea anyway. The Silva cottage was surrounded by a grove of trees, and a patch of grass that was big enough for a trampoline and clubhouse. Not that either of those things had been in the yard any time recently, but I remembered playing on both as a kid.
White brick that was once red encased the home, with black shuttered windows and a beautiful, screened porch that I used to love sitting in as a kid when it would rain. Their home always felt like a fairy tale to me, with streaks of sunlight parting the trees and the scent of lemon on the air from the nearby orchard. It was magical.
Using the key kept inside of a hidden fake rock, I unlocked the door and made my way inside. Longing and nostalgia tugged at myemotions, making my eyes water. I missed how full Rook and Ryle used to make this space feel. The cottage was smaller, much tinier than the house I grew up in, but it was cozy too. Leather armchairs, overfilled bookshelves, thick rugs that accented dark wood floors.
The cottage was quiet as I moved to the windows and unlocked each one to push open. I paused when I got to the boys’ room, seeing that their window was unlatched. It was an odd thing, considering Uncle Silas would never leave their home open. He would have double- and triple-checked all the doors and windows.
Glancing down at the hardwood floor, I saw the smallest hint of a boot print. Anxiety twisted inside me as I stood and turned in a circle. No other prints could be seen, and nothing else seemed out of place.
Two twin beds sat on either side of the room, matching bookshelves with way too many books. Rook’s side had a few framed photos, along with a ceramic bowl for loose change. I checked their closet, slightly worried an intruder might be hiding inside, and came up empty, then hesitantly inspected the rest of the house. No other window or door was unlocked, nor were there any more boot prints of any kind.
It was probably something from a while back, but to be on the safe side, I returned to their room and snapped a quick picture, which didn’t turn out at all. Heaving a small sigh, I got to my knees and angled the camera a bit better to see if I could make it turn out. That’s when something else caught my eye. It was a piece of lined paper, half under Rook’s bed. I would have never invaded his privacy, except I saw my name written on the paper.
But it was still under his bed, and it belonged to him.
Shaking my head, I stood and exited the room before I was tempted to do something like dig through all of Rook’s belongings. Before I talked myself out of it, I shot the picture off to my dad, letting him know the boot print seemed off but that no one was here and the door was locked. After that, I stowed my phone and wiped down Natty and Silas’s bathroom, which was easy as it was just dust from how long they’d been gone. I refreshed their bedsheets and shook out all the rugs.
Music played from one of the speakers in the kitchen while I made my way from one room to another. It took longer than I assumed itwould, but I had a feeling that had a lot to do with the shit sleep I got the night prior. I’d yawned more than a few times. I had even broken down and dug out an energy drink that I knew the boys kept in the shed, tucked inside of a small fridge.
While I was still outside, I inspected the space under the boys’ window to see if there were any more boot prints. I couldn’t find any, so I wandered back inside. The sky transitioned from a bright blue to a heavy purple, which meant I was going to be late for work if I didn’t hustle.
I was just about finished with the house when I bit down on my thumb, passing by the boys’ room once more. I had swept and mopped inside, but there was still that bundle of papers slipping out from under Rook’s bed. I would be doing him a favor if I tidied it up and stacked it so that the edges didn’t stick out.
That felt right. I quickly made my way back to his bed and got to my knees where I gently pulled a few pages free. My name caught my eye again, and my gaze trailed over the text on the page.
Just tell Connor you don’t want her to go.
In pencil and different handwriting was a response.
No, Connor always invites her, and if we say anything, then he’ll bail to hang out with her.
This is a dumb way to communicate, by the way. I feel like I’m in third grade, passing notes.
Connor will be suspicious if he sees us texting. This is better because he thinks we’re doing the fantasy football draft.
That had to be Rook’s comment…which meant the person he was communicating with had to be Ford. I remembered the afternoon at Connor’s house when both Rook and Ford kept scribbling on a paper back and forth, saying they were filling in their fantasy draft picks. Connor never thought anything about it, neither had I. A burning began behind my chest as I processed the memory and now laid this one over the top of it, trying to compare the two. They were gossiping about me, right in front of me, and I never knew.
Why do you hate Royce so much?
My heart rammed against my chest as I moved down the page, reading Ford’s response.
She’s spoiled and acts like the whole world revolves around her.
Rook replied with:Connor acts more spoiled than she does, but yeah, I see that whole world revolving around her thing. That and she’s always with Connor. We never get a break from her.
Fuck you, Rook. I glared at his text and my eyes burned as I continued reading what Ford wrote back.
That’s why we both have to approach him about her. He’ll accept it if it’s from both of us.
At the end of their exchange, I dropped the letter and swiped at an angry stray tear that had made its way down my cheek. I knew Ford and I weren’t the best of friends growing up, and we argued more often than not, but I didn’t assume he hated me.
I never thought his ire toward me was real. Subconsciously and stupidly, I had thought he harbored secret feelings for me, but I was wrong.
Dead fucking wrong.
Out of curiosity, I snagged another page that was tucked nearly exactly where the last one was. This was similar in how they chatted back and forth, but it was bit more one-sided.
I don’t want to go if she’s going to be there.
