We never did open that envelope. Every night that week we met up, and we talked halfway into the night, until we realised how late it was, and I had to go home. Most of the days passed in a blur of police interviews and lectures, until I felt that it was normal without Dahlia there.
******************************************
"Hey, Erin," Trystan calls after me and Conor as we head out of school. Conor winks at me as we both turn. Trystan jogs up to us, "Sorry, I can't meet up with you tonight. The police want to talk to our whole family about Dahlia."
"It's fine," I say, pretending to ignore Conor elbowing my ribs, "See you tomorrow."
He nods and walks in the other direction, as Conor grabs my arm.
"What was that?!" He practically yells, "I mean, you and Trystan Winchester?!"
I elbow him in the ribs to make him shut up, "Are you saying that I have no chance with him?"
"Oh. My. God. You fancy him, don't you? And - wait, no. You need a female perspective on this," He states, "Ask that girl, Naomi, that you work with, right? Because I'm going to England to visit my uncle, and I won't be back until the end of summer."
"No, I don't!" I protest, as I unchain my bike, "I love you, and all, Conor, but you're insane."
"Thanks," He laughs, "But you know it's true, now go home, and open that letter. Call me as soon as you've read it."
"I have to work," I state, "I won't be home until seven, and doesn't your mom take your phone off you at seven for your eyes to rest?"
Conor's mom is a health writer, that has never owned a phone in her life, despite the amount of calls her secretary receives for her and the amount of money she has.
"I would gladly break it for you, but I doubt she would agree. Tell me tomorrow?"
"Of course," I say, briefly hugging him before swinging my leg over my bike and cycling away.
I take a detour down towards the sea. The wind whips through my hair and everything wipes away. I look at my watch and realise that I'm five minutes late for my shift. I cycle away from the sea and back through the airy streets to the Coffee House.
"I give you a bike, and this is how you repay me?" Ed laughs as I dash through the back door.
I laugh, grabbing my apron, "I'm so sorry, I lost track of time."
"It's dead at this time anyway, don't worry."
I push through the door into the area behind the counter. Naomi gives me a look, "Have you been avoiding me?"
"No?" I ask, tying the apron around my waist.
"You didn't show up to our party and, to be honest, you're the only person I talk to anymore," Naomi says, resting her elbows on the counter and twirling the cuff on her ear.
"Why?" I ask, stacking up the mugs from the sink.
Naomi shrugs, "Jennifer, mainly. But I don't want to talk about it."
"You sure?" I ask, picking up a stack of mugs and taking them through into the back. As I put them in the dishwasher, my phone rings in my jacket.
"You might want to answer that," Ed tells me, looking up from his laptop, "It's rung like three times in the last five minutes. Someone must really want to reach you?"
I pull my phone out, answering it as I step out of the door, "Hello?"
"You need to open that letter."
"Conor?" I ask.
"No, it's Trystan. But you have to open that letter."
The line goes dead, leaving me staring at my phone in silence, wondering what the police said to Dahlia's family, making me need to open that letter. I slip back into the Coffee House, dropping my phone, on top of the unopened letter from Dahlia.
YOU ARE READING
After the Petal Falls
General Fiction"I guess that Dahlia was like the sun to all of us," I begin, my lips trembling, "We orbited her, and, in some ways, we worshipped her. But we have to keep going with our lives. And that's what they always say to people who've lost someone. They wou...
