Page 107 of Stolen Summer

I’d been so excited when I finished my community college classes, so stoked and ready to move on to a bigger campus with more resources and classes available—more opportunities.

Now each letter I received felt like pouring salt in an open wound. I hated watching my future slip through my fingers. I’d gotten so close, and yet I continued to crucify myself each day by walking down the driveway to the mailbox.

Taking the two unopened envelopes that came today, I sat in the kitchen, leaving them untouched on the table.

Avoidance became something I grew good at. I’d also been avoiding my bank account but for different reasons than usual. Before, I feared seeing the negative balance that haunted me more than the positive, but today, seeing my balance induced a sense of remorse and impurity like it was filthy money.

I hadn’t earned it, not really, not the way I was used to. I worked hard for my money, but what I’d done with Cole and Crew had been nothing and yet was the job that made me the most cash.

Sighing, I opened my bank’s app on my phone and faced the reality of my situation?—

What the fuck?

This can’t be right.

I blinked, refreshing the app a moment later. All those zeros were still there.

I clicked the activity to see what in the world was happening with my account. It didn’t take me long to figure it out. I scrolled through the first few purchases only to stop at a large deposit that had been added to my account last week. Fifty thousand dollars. A phone call to the bank wasn’t necessary. I had a damn good guess where it had come from.

Crew.

It was the balance we’d agreed upon once the summer ended.

He didn’t.

Oh, but he did.

Damn him.

I didn’t fucking want it.

Seeing all those zeros behind my account balance felt like dirty money.

I still hadn’t come up with a plan to pay Crew back for the money I’d spent, and after staring at my online bank statement, it felt as if I’d be indebted to him for the rest of my life.

Then I remembered the lies. The shit they put me through. My best friend nearly dying. A check would never make up for the pain or the anger still residing within me, but maybe the best fuck you I could give Crew was to spend his guilt money on those he hurt.

Like Frankie. Dad. And me.

Gnawing on my cheek, I picked up my phone and called the one person of reason I could trust. However, her logic was often flawed. Perhaps I sought her above anyone else because I knew what answer she would give me, and deep down, I wanted affirmation.

“What should I do?” I asked after Frankie answered, putting the phone on speaker.

“About?” Frankie drawled. “Need specifics. Sadly, I’m not a mind reader to my great disappointment. You think with my Romany blood I’d have at least inherited a spark of something.”

I rolled my eyes. Her so-called Romany blood came from stories her grandma used to tell her. No one knew if there were any truth to her tales. “Do you think I should return the money?”

“Hell no. Are you crazy?” she shrilled, and I was grateful I didn’t have the phone pressed to my ear. “Stop looking a gift horse in the mouth.”

I frowned. “I hate that phrase.”

“And I hate dumbasses.”

My lips twitched. “Did you just call me a dumbass?”

“Depends on whether you keep the money or not.”

I scraped at a stain on the wooden table with my nail. “I used a chunk of it to pay off bills, but he deposited the rest into my account.”