The Sweetest Summer

Chapter Thirty - One - Past Life

After I wiped my tears and collected my luggage from the front porch, I took the hottest shower of my life, desperate to wash any and all traces of Eli off of me. My phone buzzed on the charger on the bathroom counter as I dried my hair.

Text message after text message rolled in, missed calls from Franc with a simple email that read,

"Your flight itinerary is as follows,

LAX — Charles de Gaulle Airport

DEPARTING L.A. at 3:25pm PST on July 27th ARRIVING in Paris at 11:15am GMT+1 July 28th.

I will send another email in a day or so with your apartment details and directions.

-X Franc"

I rolled my eyes at his presumption that I would accept his offer...even if he was right. Somewhere in the middle of my rinse, lather, and repeat I'd decided to take the modeling job. I would never know if I could actually do it if I didn't even try, and not knowing was worse than failing.

I quickly dressed in my white UCLA sweatshirt and black lace Lululemon yoga pants, tying my still damp hair back into a high ponytail. My phone buzzed in my hand again as I descended the staircase with the contracts in hand.

I'm sorry for freaking earlier.

I smiled into the screen of my phone, feeling myself being pulled back into Eli's orbit. He was sorry, he didn't mean it...

I just needed some time to process. I'm going to the retreat for a few days for my parents' last therapy session, but I should be back Thursday. Can we talk then?

I rolled my eyes, swallowing the lump in my throat and felt myself free falling out of Eli's gravitational pull again. He was asking for the one thing I couldn't give him...time.

Sure.

I responded and shoved the phone back into my pocket. Part of me hoped that Eli wouldn't make it home before I left. Saying goodbye to him would break me again, regardless of how mad I currently was at him.

I turned through the sharp hallway past the kitchen and down another set of stairs. The basement was darker and cooler than the rest of the house, but it wasn't without purpose. My dad liked a darker more intimate space to write and record music. Plus he was always hot natured so he tended to freeze out Uncle Snake and Uncle Theo when they came over to record.

"Dad?" I called, squinting into the darkness and that's when I saw him. He was lying on the black velvet couch in the corner, angled away from the small gold lamp, directly on top of my mother.

"Shit!" I yelled and they both shot apart like two busted horny teenagers.

"Avery, we weren't expecting you..." My dad rubbed the back of his head and searched the floor for his back t-shirt.

"Yeah, I could tell." I deadpanned.

"I'm sorry darling, you know how we get carried away song writing..." My mother beamed, adjusting her white blouse that, thank God, was still on.

"You guys are the worst." I laughed, still feeling thoroughly grossed out, but realizing I could have it worse. At least my parents still were crazy about each other...unlike Eli's.

"What've you got there?" My dad asked, crossing the room and grabbing a bottled water from the mini fridge before handing the half he didn't drink to my mom.

"It's a contract." I choked, feeling my throat constrict at putting myself out there and admitting what I wanted.

"A contract for what?" My father asked tensely and snatched the slick paper from my fingers. My mother looked over his shoulder and her smile grew as she read, but my father's face turned increasingly more red. "A modeling contract?!" He shouted and my mother set a calming hand on his shoulder.