I lean my bike against the railings of the boardwalk, hanging my bag off one of the posts. I pull the large envelope from Dahlia out of my bag, sliding my finger under the seal.
A folded-up piece of paper falls out into my lap, as I lean back against the railings and stretch my legs out. I set the paper down next to me, securing it against the wind under my thigh and rifle through the rest of the contents of the envelope.
There is another, smaller envelope inside, with a large number one on it, and a set of swirls surrounding it. I decide to read the letter first, shoving the large envelope back into my bag and unfolding the paper.
E,
So I'm guessing that, by this point, you're wondering about my whereabouts. That's probably why you're desperately opening this letter. Guess what? I'm not going to tell you where I am, and I'm not coming back. You're my best friend, Erin, but I can't stay in my parents' world for another day. I don't want to end up like them, stuck in their own little world of money and privilege. I want to see the world - all of it, I want to help starving children in Africa and I want to shop in Paris, I want to scale Kilimanjaro and I want to be free.
So this is my goodbye, because there's no chance of me returning, no matter what happens to me. Say goodbye to Trystan for me, and Conor.
But, wait, young Erin. You can't run off to them for help just yet. I want you to do one more bucket list for me. Then we can do all of those things together - we can be best friends for life. Stop letting your fears hold you back and actually complete this list. I'll send you the letters one by one, the first is in this envelope.
Anyway, see you in the maddening crowd. Love Dahlia x
I clasp the letter in my hands, looking down. The waves crash against the supports of the boardwalk, reminding me of last summer.
******************
Dahlia leans back, resting her head against Luke's shoulder, smiling radiantly at Conor and I.
"Welcome to summer, bitches," Dahlia announces, uploading the selfie we just took onto her Instagram, "But someone," She coughs, looking pointedly at Conor, "Is bailing on us for England - I mean, all it does is rain there."
"Dahlia, I love you, but sometimes you have to bail on you guys for -" Conor begins.
"Hotty McHotface, we know," Dahlia laughs, cutting in.
"It's not just Conor that's ditching here," Luke reminds her patiently, always the calm one in their relationship, "I'm going to Hawaii, and, well, I don't know what Ava's doing."
"Umm, my dad hasn't decided where we're going yet," I say quickly, knowing that my dad can't afford to take any time off work, or even a week staying in Georgia with Mom's brother.
Dahlia's eyes lock with mine, and I know that she understands straight away what I'm thinking, "Seeing as these two are ditching us, you should come to Canada with my family? Would your dad be okay with that?"
"I think so," I reply, smiling at her.
She drops her sunglasses back down, "I mean, honestly, Trystan's being so moody - ever since he quit football."
"I don't blame him, it's pointless, Dahlia," Conor says.
She rolls her eyes and reaches for her phone, turning up the volume of her music and ignoring us.
***************
I never went to Canada with them. My dad was struggling enough with our school fees, and wouldn't be able to pay for me to have new clothes and everything else in Canada. I stayed at home and got a job, working every day to distract myself from my lack of friends.
I shove the letter back into my bag and climb back onto the bike, pulling my phone out of my bag and texting Trystan.
I opened it...
Moments later, Trystan texts back, as if her was sat next to his phone, waiting for me to reply.
What did it say?
I hesitate, before texting back.
It was a goodbye. She isn't coming back.
Come over, I want to see it
I began to pedal, knowing the way to Dahlia's instinctively, turning left at the end of the boardwalk.
When I reach Dahlia's house, my legs are burning. I push my bike down the side of their house and enter through their huge front door.
Inside, the house is swarming with serving staff, dressed in black ties and white shirts, placing trays of cocktails on tables and moving furniture.
Trystan is stood on one side of the wide white steps leading upstairs. He looks directly at me and walks down the stairs, grasping my hand and leading me through the people. It isn't as romantic as it seems, I want to tell everyone as they turn to look at us, their tired eyes following us.
He pushes open the door to the kitchen, which is empty of people, the moonlight shining in through the french windows which face out onto their private beach, after their large garden.
He opens the fridge and pulls out a pair of bottles of smoothies. He passes me one and we both sit down on the bar stools.
"Can I see the letter?" Trystan asks, turning his stool to face mine. I nod and pull out the letter, leaving the rest of the envelopes in my bag. I pass it to him and look down at my hands, unsure of what to while he reads his sister's goodbye. I awkwardly take a sip of my juice, not wanting to make too much noise, despite the music playing through the rest of the house.
He looks up at me, "Where's the first letter?"
"In my bag. I'm going to do what she wants - we're not bringing the police into this," I state, "She wants to get away and we need to give her a fair chance. Promise me, Trys?"
"Ava, they've got a full scale manhunt out looking for her," Trystan reminds me, a crease appearing on his forehead.
I gently reach forwards and smooth the crease away instinctively, then I realise what I'm doing and pull my hand back into my lap, "Give her until the end of the summer, then we tell the police. Okay? I just want to try and find her myself - with this list."
"How can I refuse you when you smile at me?" He says softly, leaning towards me, "Let me help you."
I look down at my hands, "If you must."
"Don't act like you don't want that," I look up in surprise and a smile lifts one corner of his mouth, "Now open that first letter."
I pick up my bag and rifle through the large envelope, looking for the first one. I pull it out with a sense of achievement and open it.
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...
