"I can't even thank you enough," I tell him.
"It's no worries," he responds. "Just don't tell Kayla I had to flirt with the RA. She'd be pissed."
Minge scoffs. "You're all assholes."
Jake pulls a key out of his pocket and opens the door.
And we all get to work.
-LUCY-
"I'm nervous," I tell Heidi on the phone.
"Are you nervous for classes, or nervous for Cameron?"
"Cameron."
"When was the last time you saw him?"
I drive into campus and try to find a parking spot near enough to my dorm. "Two weeks ago at Lachlan's party."
"How was it?"
"Hard."
She sighs loudly. "I'm sorry, Luce." Her voice quiets and drips with sympathy when she adds, "For all of it. The baby thing. I guess some people don't realize how lucky they are to get pregnant in the first place, right?"
I'm taken aback by her words but try not to choke up. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah. Call me when you're settled, okay?"
"Okay." I hang up and pull into a spot.
Rose is already waiting by the doors. "Bitch!" she screams. "I missed your perfect little ass!" I laugh when she hugs me tight and lifts me off the ground. I haven't told her what happened. I don't think everyone needs to know. I still see the way Dad and Lucas are around me, like they're walking on eggshells, and I don't need that. I don't want that.
"Have you been to the room yet?" I ask her.
She shakes her head. "I'm waiting for some guy I met online to come by and unload my shit and carry it up there. I don't do manual labor, Luce." I take a box from my trunk and hand her a suitcase. "Did I not just say that—"
I exaggerate a pout.
Her eyes narrow. "You're lucky you're so cute."
We're laughing as we walk to our room.
She opens the door.
My heart drops.
And so does the box in my hands.
"Whoa," she whispers.
We walk to the center of the room and turn a slow, full, circle. I hadn't realized I'd stopped breathing until I gasp on needed air.
"Are you okay?" She takes my elbow and leads me to the bed. "It's like the blood just drained from your face."
I want to reply, but I can't. I can't speak. My gaze moves frantically around the room, trying to take everything in, but it's too much. There's too much. And before I know it, I'm sitting on the bed and crying into my hands.
"Luce," she sits next to me and curls an arm around my neck, bringing me closer to her. "Do you know who did this?"
I wipe my eyes on my forearm and nod.
"Who?"
"Cameron."
She lets out a low whistle. "Cameron's an artist?"
I take my time and settle my emotions, then stand back up and take in the room. A full-size mural on opposite walls take up the entire space. The other two walls are filled with single page sketches. I move closer, wanting to take them in. "He picked up a pen," I whisper to myself. There are so many sheets of paper, so many sketches. So many memories of us. The river behind his house, our dock by the lake, the front porch of my house, Filmore, a close up of the pegs of his bike, my brothers—each on separate pages, my cabin—everything. He took everything that ever mattered to us and he made his art. "What's this one?" Rose asks, pointing to one that I missed. It's bigger than the others, and framed behind glass. I walk to her so I can see it clearer. "Oh my God," I sob. I lift the frame off the wall and grip it to my chest. Then I sit on the bed and run my fingers over the glass. It's my room, the one he envisioned for me. The walls are filled with books, the fireplace is burning, the armchair is still there, but the little ones are gone. They've been replaced with a draft table. And underneath the sketch are the words that tear my heart in two. 'None of this matters without my forever.'
"What's with the sunrise?" Rose asks, pulling me from my thoughts. She's standing in front of the mural with her back to me.
She looks over her shoulder while I wipe my never-ending tears. "It's the sunrise and sunset," I tell her. "He says it reminds him of our love." I struggle to speak, but I push it down and continue, "Because it's eternal—the rise and fall of the sun. It's forever. Just like us."
***
I leave campus and drive back home. I end up at the one place that I know will help. And I speak to the one person that I know can fix me.
"Mom," I whisper. "I need you."
I lay the flowers in front of her headstone and sit in front of it. "I'm scared," I tell her. "And I'm broken."
I sit for an hour, shedding more tears, wondering how it's possible that tears can keep flowing when your heart is left dry. Then I reach into my bag, pull out pen and notebook, and do something I haven't done since before she passed away.
*Untitled*
By Lucy Lovesalot.
...
-CAMERON-
She was supposed to be on campus yesterday, but I haven't heard a word. She hasn't contacted me, or Micky—so Jake tells me. If she's seen her room, surely someone would know. I've left Rose as a last resort because I don't know if she knows anything that happened to us this summer, and I don't want to be the one to tell her.
"Dude," Minge says, walking into our room. He lifts a package in his hands to show me. "Have you seen this?"