The Mixtape

After I finished my meal, I thanked Oliver and headed into the bathroom to wash up. To my surprise, I noticed that the mirror wasn’t covered with a sheet. I checked the other rooms, and I noticed that all the coverings had been removed.

Healing came in waves, and it seemed as if lately Oliver was learning to ride the current. I guessed I would do the same with Sammie and called her while I still had the chance.

I picked up my cell phone and dialed her number.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Sammie. Sorry I missed your call.”

There was a small sigh on the end of the line, and she sounded emotional as she spoke. “Thanks for calling me back.”

Later that afternoon, I headed home with a very happy Reese and three of the action figures that were allowed to leave Oliver’s home. When I put her to bed later that night, we did her nightly routine of saying our prayers.

When we finished, I leaned in and kissed her cheek. “Get some sleep.”

“Okay, Mama.” She placed her hand against my heart and stamped it, and I went ahead and stamped hers back. “Love you,” she yawned.

“Love you too. Good night.”

I stood to walk away, and Reese called out to me once more. “Mama?”

“Yes, Reese?”

“Mr. Mith is really nice. I like him.”

“That’s good. I think he likes you too.”

“Maybe next time he’ll let me swim in his pool again.”

I smirked. “Maybe. Good night.”

“Night.” A few seconds later: “Hey, Mama?”

“Yes, rug rat?”

“Do you like Mr. Mith, too?”

I chuckled to myself at the innocence of her voice and the depth of her question. “I sure do.”

“Good, because I think I’m gonna ask him to be our friend the next time I see him, and maybe he can play with the superheroes with me when I go over there too.”

“That sounds like a good plan. Now, get some rest, okay?”

“Okay, Mama.” A brief pause. “Hey, Mama?”

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Yes, Reese?”

“Do you think Mr. Mith is hot?”

My eyes bugged out of my face. “What?”

“Kelly asked me to ask you if you thought that, and she said that if you turned red and made a big reaction, that meant yes. So, I guess it’s a yes.”

There was no question in my mind that I was going to kill Kelly the next time I saw her.

“Good night, Reese Marie.”

“Night, Mama.” I took a few steps before I heard, “Hey, Mama?”

“Yes?”

“Love you.”

A happy sigh this time released from me. “Love you too.”

25

OLIVER

Emery and I began sending each other two songs each day. Songs to show how we were feeling early in the morning. Songs that summed up how we felt when nightfall came. I listened to every single one she sent, because it made me feel close to her even when she was far away.

The more songs we played, the stronger our connection grew.

Emery: I had to cuss out the camp instructors for allowing some kids to bully Reese today. Song of the day: Last Resort

Oliver: Is Reese okay?

Emery: She’s fine. I don’t think she even knows that they are bullying her. I just so happened to walk up when the kids were picking on her for her hair. I told the parents . . . they said it was kids being kids.

Oliver: Kids learning from their shit parents.

Emery: Facts. What’s your song of the night?

Oliver: This City, Sam Fischer. Read some bad comments on the internet. Got to me a little.

Emery: Stay. Off. The. Internet. Or at least only read the good things.

I know, I know.

Oliver: Kelly keeps asking me to ask you a question, but I haven’t talked myself into doing it yet.

Emery: What’s the question?

I started typing, then deleted, then typed, and deleted.

Emery: Don’t do that. Don’t leave me on a cliffhanger. Tell me.

Oliver: Do you think about me the way I think about you?

A few seconds passed before she started typing again.

Emery: Depends. How do you think about me?

Oliver: Like you’re every single good thing in the world wrapped in one person.

She started typing, then stopped, then started and stopped.

Those ellipses were going to be the end of me.

Emery: I think of you how you think of me.

The biggest sigh of relief fell from the depths of my spirit.

Emery: You know what’s weird?

Oliver: What’s that?

Emery: I think I start missing you each day before I even leave your side.

While Emery and I were slowly falling into one another, my breakup with Cam was getting messier and messier due solely to her and her dramatics. It turned out that breaking up with one’s crazy, narcissistic ex-girlfriend wasn’t good enough when she was a celebrity and had the ability to trash your name in the tabloids. I figured Cam would grow tired of the interviews, but they seemed to be getting her the exposure she so desperately craved.