I do. I really, really do.
It’s amazing how important all of that seems, the likes and the comments, the followers and subscribers. It can easily consume your entire world; it feels like it is the world. But when it comes down to it, none of that matters at all. You start to realize that you’d trade the world for just one more smile from the person you love, that you’d give up the internet forever just to hear them laugh again.
“It isn’t your job to find Parrish,” Maxine says softly. Everything she’s saying would make sense in almost any situation but for the one that I’m in. See, the thing is, it really is wholly and completely up to me to find my missing … boyfriend? Considering what happened between us the night before he went missing, and the conversation we had after, I think it’d be fair to call him that. “This isn’t all on you, baby sister. Don’t feel like you have more responsibility just because the two of you—”
She stops talking suddenly, her gaze flicking to Maxx before I lift up a hand and wave it absently in her direction.
“It’s okay. Chasm already opened his big mouth and blurted out the truth. Maxx knows.”
“Wait, wait, what?” Maxine chokes, scooting her chair even closer to me. I stick my straw between my lips and pretend like I’m not embarrassed. The café is so cozy, so homey, it’d be easy to pretend that we’re just two sisters having a completely normal conversation here.
And oh god, how I wish I could talk to Maxine about what happened. The sex was … well, it was amazing. An entire world of possibilities unfurled before me. I feel so connected to Parrish, so in love with him. I couldn’t stop smiling the entire time. All I want is to see him again, to have him hold me, to find out where we can take all of these wonderful feelings.
It’s all so new, so tender, so strange, I want to talk to Maxine about it. I want to tell her every detail and get her opinion on all of it. But I can’t. And not just because her boyfriend is sitting at the table with us.
It might smell like croissants and espresso in here, there might be soft jazz music playing against the gentle clink of porcelain mugs against saucers, but this isn’t a normal day. I’m standing on a tightrope, and if I’m not hypervigilant, I will fall. I’ll tumble down a dark hole that I’ll never be able to crawl out of.
The feel of the gun in my hands, the way Mr. Fosser’s body jerked as I fired several shots into his chest.
I nearly throw up right there on the antique table.
“How does Chasm know about that?” Maxine wonders aloud, giving X another surreptitious look. This time, he meets her gaze and shakes his head slowly. He doesn’t know either. But I’m sure he’d like to understand. “So he does like you,” she murmurs, and I recall vaguely that Parrish mentioned that to her last time we were at the café.
Maxine looks back at me.
“You’re not in a thruple, are you?” she asks, and I balk. “I mean, I’m not judging, but … are you?”
“No!” I blurt, feeling my cheeks, forehead, and tits turning crimson. “He just … he happened to be standing outside Parrish’s door when we were on our way out to find condoms. He’s actually the one who gave us the condoms in the first place.”
“Well, I’m relieved to hear you used condoms,” Maxine offers up as X cringes and rubs at the back of his neck with his right hand. Does my sister know that he’s a virgin? She must, right? She’s been sexually active with all of her previous boyfriends; she’d definitely wonder about X since he isn’t, uh, putting out. Or however you want to phrase it. “Does anyone else know?”
By anyone else, I’m assuming she means Tess.
“Lumen and Danyella, but that’s it.” I tap my fingers on the side of my cup, teasing droplets of cool condensation. “Tess can’t … well, Parrish wanted to tell her, but we were going to do it together. She absolutely cannot find out while he’s missing.”
It feels imperative to me that we keep this a secret from her for the time being. Not only out of respect for Parrish, but because I don’t want the full force of that woman’s wrath to fall on me. If she knows that, the night before he disappeared for nine freaking days, we had sex for the first time, she’ll blame me.
I don’t know how I know that, I just do.
“I’ll … excuse myself,” X offers, looking like he’d rather crawl into a hole full of black widows than sit here and listen to me talk about sleeping with Parrish. He starts to stand up when I feel a familiar buzzing in my pocket.
