There are no answers to my questions no matter how much I ask them. In fact, they become more complicated the more I do.
I click on Remi’s profile and scroll through the other posts.
Creighton recently went back to school, as in, about a week ago, and Remi has been posting a selfie with him or catching him in the background daily.
I tap on a group picture and then go to Eli’s profile through it.
He unfollowed me and removed me as a follower, but at least he didn’t block me.
A jolt goes through me when I see the last picture he posted. Both Eli and Creighton stand half naked, the planes of their chests glistening with moisture and their hair damp.
A bandage covers a part of Creighton’s chest, where the bullet went in, and it takes everything in me not to choke on my sob.
Sauna day, sponsored by yours truly since I heard it’s good for recuperation. Welcome back, baby bro #BrothersTime #SleepingBeautyChroniclesResumingSoon
I take a screenshot of the picture, crop Eli out, and add it to the collection I’ve been keeping on my phone.
Then I fall asleep staring at them with tears in my eyes.
The next day, I’m ready to volunteer at the shelter.
“You don’t have to go all the time, Anni,” Mom tells me when we’re stepping out of the house.
“I don’t mind.” I check my bag and make sure my phone is in there.
She clutches me by the shoulder and kind of forces me to stare up at her. “Do you need anything?”
“Nope, I’m cool.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah.”
“All right. How about we have girls’ night later and then I’ll sleep beside you?”
Mom hugged me to sleep the first few nights after I came home. She didn’t tell me this, but she I figured she was scared shitless that I would do something to hurt myself.
Not going to lie, I did have those thoughts, especially after I kept having nightmares about all the red that surrounded Creighton. But that edge lessened as I received more updates about how well he was doing.
“Please don’t or Papa will hate me for daring to take his place.”
She beams and strokes my hair back. “Let me worry about your father. If you want me to keep you company, let me know.”
“Nah, I’m not a little girl anymore.” I can and will find a solution for my own problems.
My phone vibrates and I pull it out fast, thinking it’s a text from Remi. The name that appears on the screen makes me pause.
Cecily: How have you been, Anni?
My chest aches and a sudden influx of tears blurs my eyes.
After everything went down, I didn’t only lose Creighton, but I also had to let go of the friendships I thought I’d formed with Ava, Cecily, Glyndon, and Brandon.
They stopped talking to me, and rightfully so, considering they’ve known Creighton way longer than me.
So to see Cecily texting me after I thought I’d lost her for good wrenches those buried emotions to the surface.
Annika: I’m doing okay. How about you?
Cecily: Same old. We miss you.
I choke on my own breaths as that familiar sting burns my eyes.
Annika: I miss you guys, too. So much.
Cecily: Can we meet?
Annika: I don’t think that’s possible. Not sure if you heard, but I’m no longer on Brighton Island.
Cecily: Oh, I know. I’m in New York City.
Annika: What? You are?
Cecily: Currently roaming in Central Park in pure touristy fashion, haha.
Annika: Send me a location. I’m coming right over.
It isn’t until I slide my phone into my pocket that I find both Mom and Yan watching me expectantly.
Mom’s expression softens. “Good news?”
“Uh, yeah. Remember my friend, Ces? Cecily? She’s come to visit.”
“Invite her over,” Mom suggests. “I’ll make us lunch and she can stay with you.”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea to bring her into our house that’s so full of guards and security. She wouldn’t be able to handle this whole atmosphere and would be super uncomfortable. It’s better that I go meet her.”
“I’m coming with you,” Yan announces.
“No, Yan. I’m just meeting my friend and you’ll intimidate her.”
“Boss will have my balls on a stick if I let you go alone.”
“Please, Yan.” I grab his arm and bat my lashes. “I just want to feel normal for a little while. Besides, Papa has been giving me more freedom.”
“Not when it comes to those fucking English kids,” Yan says, revealing his extreme distaste for the way they all cut me out of their lives.
He knows how ecstatic I was to have friends, so he’s mad that I lost them so easily.
I tried to tell him that Creighton is their family and childhood friend and they wouldn’t forgive me for shooting him, but he said that if they were true friends, they would’ve at least tried to understand me.
“Everything’s going to be okay.” I smile. “Besides, Papa doesn’t need to know, right, Mom?”
“Right.” Mom catches his other arm. “Let her go, Yan. She deserves this.”
“You two will get me killed one day,” he grumbles, but he allows me to go unescorted after reminding me to call him at the first inconvenience.
And to keep my phone close—since they can track me through it.
Truth is, I don’t always have security with me. Papa was a pain in the ass at the beginning, but he soon allowed me the freedom he promised me and I no longer had to fight for it.
For some reason, that has felt like a tasteless victory.
What’s the point of freedom if I can’t use it to be with who I want?
After a long drive, I find Cecily sitting on one of the benches in the park, reading from some psychology book and giving zero fucks about the attention her silver hair gets.
She’s wearing a shirt that says, Wait…you can see me?
The moment my shadow falls on her, she lifts her head from her book and stares up at me.
“Hi,” I try but fail not to choke on the word.
“Hi,” she says slowly, carefully.
An awkward silence permeates the air, then I fall in beside her. “I can’t believe you’ve come to the States on your own.”
“Yeah, me neither.” She closes her book, slips it into her backpack, and faces me. “Is, eh…are you okay?”
I place both my palms on the bench and stare at the sky. People, movement, and noise swirl around us like the buzzing of bees, but they soon disappear. Unlike my wishes, time doesn’t stop, it keeps flowing on and on in an endless circle.
“I guess.”
“You don’t look okay.” Cecily’s voice softens.
“No?”
“Not really. You’re kind of pale and you’ve lost weight.”
“I’m on a diet for the ballet.”
“Does that mean you’re permanently relocating here?”
“I don’t really have a choice. It’s for the best anyway.”
“The Annika I know wouldn’t give up that easily just because the circumstances stole her choice. She’d fight to get it back, and if that didn’t work, she’d find another solution to get what she wants.”