“That looks good,” Angela said, peering over Owen’s shoulder at the flyer he’d just finished making to advertise the remaining tricentennial events. “I think we can print them now. Where’s the paper Jan wanted us to use?”
“I think it’s downstairs.”
“I’ll go get it,” Angela offered.
She went downstairs and Owen stood up, taking a quick walk around the quiet library to the bathroom. He’d barely slept last night and in the mirror, his face was pale and puffy, purple-gray shadows under his eyes. He splashed some cold water onto his face.
As he returned to the computers, he saw Lucie standing at the circulation desk.
“Hey,” he said, walking over as the librarian took a stack of books off the shelf and handed them to her.
“Nice to see you,” Lucie said coldly, sliding the books into her tote bag.
“What’s wrong?” Owen asked, startled by her tone.
“Where were you today?”
He tried to remember what else he was supposed to be doing today but his head felt like it was underwater. “What are you talking about?”
“The art show. We were all texting you, trying to find out where you were. I can’t believe you didn’t show up. You knew how important this was to me.”
Owen’s heart dropped. He reached into his pocket to take out his phone, then realized he’d left it downstairs earlier. “I’m so sorry,” he said. “I was—”
“Don’t,” she said. “Don’t tell me you were at work. We were all at the mall last week when you said you were working and we stopped by to visit you since we never see you anymore but they said you had that day off. And Brooke told me she thought you were lying about why you missed Declan’s party.”
“I promise, I just forgot the art show was today—”
“You’ve missed so much, Owen. I don’t know what’s been going on with you but you’ve been drifting away all year. I thought you were just busy with school and that’s why you were never at lunch and stopped coming to trivia. But I feel like you always have an excuse not to be around us. The last time we saw you other than graduation was when we got breakfast after finals and you barely talked to anyone.”
“I’m so sorry. I honestly just forgot and didn’t have my phone on me. I know that’s a bad excuse but that’s the truth.”
Lucie sighed. “I have to go.”
“Lucie, wait—”
She was already leaving. Owen slumped into a chair by the computers, the feeling in his head even worse.
“I couldn’t find—what’s wrong? You look sad,” Angela said, coming back up the stairs. She placed his phone on the table. “You left this downstairs, by the way.”
He got up and turned away from her, pretending to look at a display of new books because he didn’t want her to see his face right now.
“Owen,” she said softly and the sound of his name made him feel like everything was burning. She touched his arm and then she was kissing him, the way she never did when they were somewhere in Westview where people might see. Her lips were soft and she tasted like wintergreen. But the world didn’t disappear like it usually did. He was too busy thinking about Lucie, who had only showed up to the gala because he’d helped plan it and always practiced for school presentations with him. She’d made beautiful jewelry for his family and decorated their friends’ lockers on their birthdays every year. And he couldn’t even remember to go to her art show.
“Are you okay?” Angela asked, lacing their fingers together.
He was so angry at himself, disappointed. He couldn’t even look at her.
And then he heard Lucie’s voice again at the circulation desk. “Sorry, I just left my—”
And then their eyes met and she was walking toward them. Angela was still holding his hand and the moment she realized what was happening, she jumped back like she’d been scalded.
“Owen. Are you serious?”
“I’m going to go,” Angela said quickly, giving Owen a panicked look.
Lucie didn’t even look at her as she brushed past. “What happened to no more secrets? Is she the reason you’ve missed everything?”
He sank into a chair, face in his hands. “I’m sorry. It’s complicated.”
“No it’s not,” Lucie said and he hated that she didn’t even sound angry. She just sounded sad, which made him feel even worse. “You just don’t value our friendship enough to tell the truth about anything. We’ve been drifting apart for so long. Maybe it’s just better to let that happen.”
It hurt to breathe. Lucie was walking away again and Owen considered going after her but his body felt like it was tearing apart from the inside. The room was blurry, computer screens bright blue and book spines angry stripes across his vision. All the silence was hurting his head, her words screaming in his thoughts over and over even though she hadn’t raised her voice. Her sadness turning him to dust.
He tried to breathe. Closed his eyes and pressed his fingers to his eyelids. He went downstairs to look for the paper so he could at least do one thing right today. Angela was there.
“Please don’t,” he said when she started to say something. He didn’t want to fight with her, too. He turned away and started searching through cabinets and drawers. They were all labeled wrong, and frustrated, he slammed one shut harder than he meant to, cringing at the loud clanging noise it made. Something about that sound, all his fault, made him want to break down, dissolve right there.
“Owen, I’m so sorry.”
“Not now,” he said, the words catching in his throat. He finally found the paper and grabbed both reams even though it was more than he needed. His head was still spinning. There wasn’t enough space for everything he felt right now. Everything was falling apart. Everything was gone. All their inside jokes and adventures and plans for next year.
“Okay,” Angela said quietly.
Upstairs, he printed the flyers. The bright red of the paper stung his eyes. He drove home. Everywhere he looked it hurt. Reservoir everywhere. He had memories mapped out all over this place, so many of them with Lucie. Without her, this town felt like nothing but empty pages.