Dead of Summer

“Who did?” I mumble around the cheesy, salty hash browns that are still warm from the kitchen. Surely Liza would’ve given me something healthier, and I doubt she knows my preferences.

“It was Kayde.”

In my surprise, I nearly choke on my hash browns. My eyes water, and I swallow quickly to avoid a catastrophe. “How the hell does Kayde know what I eat in the mornings?” I demand, eyes wide with disbelief. “You’re joking, right?”

But she’s shaking her head before I finish, an apologetic smile still in place. “No, and I don’t know. He came up to Liza and me with all of this and said you were exhausted. Said you were taking the day off in case I didn’t know. Which, I told him I did thanks to your five am text. And he asked if I’d bring this to you before it got cold.”

All I can do with that information is stare at her, eyes wide and unblinking. Well, and take back my little prayer to find a boyfriend to do this for me.

Because Kayde is not boyfriend material.

Not whatsoever.

Hello, God? I think, casting my eyes upward and feeling rather dramatic even in my own head. Me again. I take it back. I’ll make my own breakfast.

Though the thought somehow makes me feel…unpleasant. Like I’m fighting off some stupid but undeniable fact regarding this whole thing.

But maybe I’m just too much of a chicken to really work out and accept what that thought is.

“So…” Kins gestures to her own neck, and I stare at her balefully before showing her my shoulders as well. It brings a small gasp from her I can’t help but enjoy, and certainly not because I’m preening with Kayde’s marks on my body. “That must’ve hurt though, right? Summer, he broke skin!”

“Yeah, hope he doesn’t have rabies,” I mumble around the half of biscuit I jammed between my teeth. “That would suck for me.” I don’t mention that it could be possible, considering how rabid Kayde is.

“Darcy is going to end you—wait. No, I don’t want to talk about Darcy. Will you tell me about it? Was it good, at least? Shit, Summer, I didn’t think you were into”—she gestures wildly at my neck—“whatever that is. Those are literal teeth marks in you!”

“Yes, they are,” I agree blandly, dunking my remaining biscuit in gravy. Somehow, I hadn’t known until now just how hungry I am. But now that I’ve started eating, I can’t stop. I’m ravenous after last night, like my body had used up all of its reserves while surviving Kayde.

Or surviving the most mind blowing orgasm I’ve ever experienced in my twenty-ish years on this earth.

“Hold up.” She reaches out, grabbing onto my arm and dragging it closer to survey the fading red mark on my wrist. “What the hell is this?”

I don’t answer. I don’t even know how to, truth be told. So I slam back another mouthful of biscuit and chase it with scalding coffee to distract myself, or at least die before I have to answer her questions.

When Kinsley shakes my arm, however, and refuses to let go, I realize I don’t have much of a choice. It’s either tell her or learn how to meld with the walls and disappear until she forgets what she asked.

But she’s relentless and I finally sigh, waiting until my mouth is empty before drawing my arm back from her to gently touch the fading marks from the rope in the boathouse. “Apparently…Kayde’s into bondage,” I mumble, knowing that my face must be a mess of red and heat. “He, uh, tied me up last night?—”

Kinsley’s shocked gasp just draws a look from me, and I pin her with it until she stops squirming. “Oh, don’t even try to act like that. I know what you’re into. I’ve seen your browser history, and I’m sure that’s a big reason you’re into Liza. Does she tie you up too, Kins?”

Suddenly my best friend is the one who’s looking embarrassed. She stares down at my bed, her eyes wide and face as red as mine. “Did he hurt you?” she asks finally, gesturing to my throat. “You’re not sick. But…if he hurt you, I can kill him for you. Free of charge or judgment. We’ll wrap him in a garbage bag and tie rocks around him before we throw him in the lake. Liza would help, you know. If he hurt you?—”

“I’m fine,” I promise her, a touch of amusement curling my lips upward into a small grin. “We got a little carried away.” I’m pretty sure he didn’t. Kayde did exactly what he wanted to me and I’d just been along for the ride. Though I guess, in retrospect, I’d been a very loud and willing passenger on that ride. “I’m just exhausted and haven’t been sleeping well.”

Kinsley’s eyes narrow suspiciously at that, and I can’t decide how I feel about having to lie to her about Kayde.

But I certainly can’t tell her the truth.

“Haven’t been sleeping well…as in, not just last night?” she asks, curiosity and accusation edging her tone. “I thought you didn’t like him!”

I don’t.

I think. No, I know I don’t like Kayde. Realistically, I can’t like him. It’d be the same as liking the robber breaking into my house, or the murderer bearing down on me with a knife. But when I try to summon the feelings of hatred and disgust, the ones I’d felt at least in the beginning, I find that particular well empty.

But obviously, it’s just because I’m exhausted. When I’ve gotten more sleep and I’m able to focus better, I’ll find the hate and the fear and the disgust that I have for him.

Not just these confusing, convoluted feelings that are too transient for me to even really focus on, let alone name. It’s just the breakfast doing this to me. That and the way he’d carried me here, stayed to make sure I was all right, and rubbed aloe into the rope burns on my wrists and ankles. Delicately, I stroke my fingers along the rope marks again, until Kinsley makes a sound like she’s doing her best impression of a gagging scoff.

“Summer, please. I’m going to leave if you keep doing that.”