Ivy Brooks lives her life day to day like a normal college student. Majoring computer science at UCLA, the sophomore- most of the time- tries to stay out of trouble as much as possible and focus on her studies. And as much as she loves to be antisoc...
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❝chapter one❞
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The cemetery was rather quiet on my first annual visit.
In bustling Los Angeles, it was unusual to find a quiet spot, even in a graveyard. But today, the absence of visitors was noticeable. The freshly trimmed grass and new flower arrangements next to the headstone caught my eye. I recognized the bouquet of flowers my mother had picked up this morning before leaving for New York. The stone read "Cairo Brooks, 1965 to 2017" in bold capital letters, with the words "beloved husband, father, son, and friend" etched below.
After finishing my classes for the day, I headed straight to the cemetery and sat in front of the headstone. It had become a daily ritual for me since being discharged from the hospital. As usual, I spoke to him, but today was different. The air felt thicker, and I felt a constant pressure on my chest. The weight of guilt was overwhelming, and I knew it would never truly dissipate, no matter how much I tried to make amends. I continued talking to him until my phone interrupted, and I reluctantly answered, saying, "Hello?"
"Ivy, I'm going to tell you one more time, you have to come to this party!" On the other end of the call was my best friend since before I could walk. Bonnie Quinn.
"It's his annual anniversary," was the only thing I could say. She'd understand, she always does. Even though I felt like I was making the wrong decision, at least I was hoping she would accept my explanation. I couldn't expect her to force me out of what had become my comfort zone since she wasn't the type to. But would attending a party really be so bad? I finally made the decision to text her the time to come pick me up after hearing her sigh and urge me to get home safely. Her grin could be heard over the phone.
"Ok!" She squealed.I finally left the cemetery after bidding my father adieu. Home wasn't far away—Hillside Memorial was only a five-minute drive away—but as I got there, quiet descended. Mom was also gone, and Sawyer wasn't home either; he was probably already at the party. I put on some music to fill up the silence and hurriedly dressed myself.
I was just about to text Bonnie to come pick me up when I realised my lucky boots were gone. They were nowhere to be found despite my searching the entire home. When the front door shut, I rushed down the stairs only to see Bonnie, "I was going to wait here until you were ready," perhaps as a defensive tactic to prevent me from backing out. I was about to chuckle but decided against it in case she took it personally.
"My boots are nowhere."
"What do you mean they're nowhere?"
"Exactly what I said, Bon Bon," I roll my eyes and text Sawyer. The door closes shut once again and Sawyer comes bouncing into the living room.
"What's up, powerpuff girls?" He winks at Bonnie and gets himself an apple from the dinner table. Instinctively, Bonnie and I roll our eyes at the nickname. No matter how many times we say we're a duo not a trio, he won't stop calling us it.
