Pieces of Summer

I nod like I understand, and feel relief and disappointment at the same time. Mika isn’t here, which means she can’t turn me away.

“I think I can call Milton’s wife. She’ll have Mika’s number.”

Mika is successful somewhere and living out her dream. She might be married for fuck’s sake. The thought makes me sick.

I’m just the summer fling she had. I have a couple thousand in the bank and nothing to offer her. There’s no way I’d ever fit into her New York life.

“Thanks, but… I think I have what I need,” I tell him quietly.

He looks like he wants to say more, but doesn’t. I turn around and leave, opening up the rickety door to my dad’s old truck. It was stupid to ever come here.

“What’re you doing?” Blake asks as he walks into my house like he owns the place.

“Looking for my damn belt,” I grumble. That bastard loves hiding from me.

He glances around at the chair that has been flipped upside down and the shit haphazardly scattered across my living room. His eyes land on the coffee table where pictures are lying around. I shouldn’t have broken that box out. I should have burned that shit a long time ago.

“Ah hell. Is this… Is this you and her?” he asks, picking up a picture that has summer at 15 written on it. “Aw. You’re so cute with your skinny body and inkless skin.”

“Fuck you,” I grumble.

He sits down on the sofa, rifling through the pictures.

“Fucking nosy bastard. Get out of that.”

He flips me off and ignores me as he continues to flip through the pictures, and I lower myself to the other end of the sofa. When his eyebrows go down in confusion, I cock my head to the side.

“What?” I prompt.

“She… I think I know where I’ve seen her now. Shit, she’s really changed.”

“Yeah. Curves now instead of a stick figure. Tell me about it. I’m trying to remember why we won’t work out,” I mumble.

He hisses out a breath as his eyes widen, and he looks at me as he pales.

“What?” I bark.

“Fuck, dude. This is the sick chick.”

“Sick chick? What the hell does that mean?”

That conversation with Whit slams into my mind, but Mika swore she was okay.

“That first spring I lived out here, back when you had those parties all the time.”

“Yeah? What about them?”

“Well, one night this chick was just staring ahead, and she looked like she was on the verge of passing out. I bet I tried asking her if she was okay like ten times, but it was like she didn’t hear me until I got right in front of her. She blinked over and over, and then stumbled back. I don’t remember everything, but I remember she doubled over and puked like she was drunk as fuck.”

My throat gets tight, and my jaw tenses while I stare at him. He studies another picture and groans.

“Shit, dude. This is definitely her.”

“That can’t be right,” I say while shaking my head. “She didn’t come back after that last summer.”

“I know it was her, man. I barely touched her arm and she practically screamed. She was wild-eyed and panicked, but I thought she was just high or drunk. The second I let her go, she sprinted like a banshee across the yard, and I slipped and fell when I took off after her. By the time I caught up, she’d already locked her car door and was barreling out in reverse.”

“Why the fuck would she show up and leave like that?” I ask, not understanding any of this. He has to have her confused with someone else.