Summer of Like // Farleigh Start x OC

36: I Got a List of Things in my Head That I Miss About You

When Farleigh has to take a phone call from some celebrity's team about some event, I find myself wandering Saltburn alone. The halls suck me up into the dusty past, and I pace slowly through the house, noting the differences from my memories to my vision. It's so strange how untouched this place is by time. So different from New York, where nothing is ever the same, even day to day.

I find myself tracing the path back up to the room that I stayed in last time I was here, back in 2007. The hallways are pristinely kept, the doors all recently polished with wood varnish. I reach what used to be my room, and slowly open the door peering inside. Exactly the same. Exactly how it used to be.

A pang strikes my heart as I turn around, facing what used to be Venetia's door. A shiver of fear runs through me, followed by the pangs of longing that I feel every time I see badly bleached blonde hair. I miss her more than words.

I rest a hand on the doorknob. I want it to be exactly the same. I want it to be different at the same time.

I push open the door slowly, and step into the room. The smell of her floral perfume lingers in the air, and tears rise up in my eyes. I force them back down with a sharp breath - and take in the rest of the room. It's still hers, even now - but it's not at the same time. It's too organized and clean, all of her clothes are in the closet instead of the floor, and her jewelry hands neatly from it's little tree on her vanity instead of a tangled mess at the base. The curtains are drawn back, instead of closed, and the bed is made.

I sit down on the duvet, wrinkling the carefully spread cover. This time when the tears well up, I let them fall. It's been years, and her death still stings like it happened yesterday. The older I get, the more I wonder if I could have saved her if I'd stayed. If maybe she would have gotten older too. The older I get, the more angry I am at her for doing it in the first place.

I turn my gaze to her bedside table. A framed picture of the two of us catches my eye, and I pick it up with shaking hands. Venetia smiles up at me, her head resting on my shoulder as I grin at the camera. We're in her dorm at Cambridge - near the end of the spring semester by the window in the background. I remember how she'd asked one of the other girls we hung out with to take the picture. I never knew what happened to it.

A teardrop falls on the glass of the frame, blurring over my younger self's face.

"Alright, Evie?"

Oliver's voice startles me out of my thoughts, and I look up sharply. He lingers in the door, tentative. "You startled me." I say, setting the picture back where it belongs.

"Sorry." He says, stepping into the room. "I just saw you were upset, and thought I should ask."

"I'm alright." I say, wiping the tears off my cheeks. "Just miss her, you know."

Oliver nods, settling down on the bed next to me. "Me too."

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. I loved Venetia in a way that he could never understand - a way that even I, in the act of loving her, didn't understand at the time.

"I was the one that found her that morning, you know." He says, his voice dripping with sympathy. "I've never really... forgot that day. What she looked like in the tub."

Another tear rolls down my cheek. "She asked me to stay with her. After Felix died."

He nods. "I should have looked out for her more." He says. "It all just happened so fast, and I was so lost in the madness of it all..."

"Why did you stay?" I ask. "Farleigh and I saw you at her funeral, with James and Elspeth."

"I didn't have anywhere else to go." He says. "And, part of me didn't want it to be over, I think. Pretend like none of it ever happened." He sighs, long and drawn out. "I think that's why Elspeth asked me to come back here."

I nod. "Us too, I think. She's lonely - I mean, god, I can't even imagine what it's like to lose both of your children and then your husband and be stuck, alone, in this massive house..." I trail off. "I only knew V for a year, and I still think about her every day."

He nods. "We all miss them both."

A silence descends over the pair of us as we sit on Venetia's bed. It doesn't feel like it's been eleven years since I last spoke to her. I still have nightmares about our final conversation - how she pleaded with me, how I almost shouted at her. How in the end, I left her here to die. She haunts me, but I can't bring myself to really mind. Anything to keep her around.

"If you ever want someone to talk to, I'm always here." Oliver breaks the silence.

I glance over at him - he sits with his hands folded in his lap, his gaze cast downward towards the hardwood floor. "Thanks Ollie."

He smiles, and glances up at me. Demure. "You're welcome." He pauses. "It really is good to see you Evie."

Footsteps coming down the hallway break the moment, and I recognize the cadence of the steps as Farleigh. I wipe under my eyes again as he peeks his head around the door, smiling when he sees me. His smile falters when he sees Oliver. "I was wondering where you went." He says, stepping into the room.

"Just reminiscing." I say.

Farleigh glances around the room before his gaze lands on the picture on Venetia's nightstand. He picks it up, a sad sort of smile playing at his lips. "God, you look like a baby in this. You both do."

"I'm sure there are plenty of pictures of you hidden away in this house from your college days." I say, standing up from the bed.

He grimaces. "I hope not. I don't think I've seen a single picture of myself from those years where I haven't cringed at what I was wearing."

"I've always thought you were stylish." I say, smiling up at him.

"Which makes sense, because you've always had terrible taste." He teases, setting the picture back down on the nightstand. "Come down to the lake with me?"

"To swim or to lounge?" I ask.

He grins, leaning close, but his eyes aren't on me - they're on Oliver. "I'm going to say swim, even though I know we won't, just to get you in that bikini you brought."

I laugh, and move past him towards the door. He follows after me, leaving Oliver alone on Venetia's bed.

As soon as we're out of earshot, I turn to Farleigh. "That wasn't very nice." I say. "And earlier, when you asked him if he had a wife, too."

"I'm allowed to brag if I so wish." He says.

I shoot him a look, and he mocks me, widening his eyes and shaking his head with a smile. Bragging isn't really the right word for what he's doing - rubbing it in Oliver's face. "Farleigh-"

"I am withholding my right to be a little rude." He cuts me off. "On the grounds that he totally got me kicked out. Twice. It's only fair."

I purse my lips. "That was years ago-"

"Eves."

"We're all more mature now, I'm sure-"

"Speak for yourself."

I roll my eyes. "Fine."

He smiles, and smacks a kiss to my cheek as he opens the door to our room, holding it for me.