Read Online This is What Goodbye Looks Like by Olivia Rivers - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Olivia Rivers
Ads: Link
constricted with a spiked vice. We spent all of last summer trapped in the same courtroom, but I’ve never spoken directly to him before.
“Hey,” he says. “You feeling better? Brie says you were pretty sick.”
Sick. That’s one word to describe what I am. I know I’m a bitch for taking advantage of his blindness, but it’s too good of an opportunity to pass up. With my throat healed, my voice sounds completely different than it did during the trial. And since he can’t see what I look like, and I’m using a different name, there’s pretty much no way for him to recognize me.
“I’m fine,” I mumble. “Um...sorry I threw up all over your shoes.”
Hannah and Maddie giggle and exchange looks, apparently still thinking my nervousness has to do with his good looks. Brie shoots them a disapproving glance and then says to me, “Don’t apologize. He needed a new pair anyway. They were totally ugly.”
Seth chuckles a little. “Brie, they were black Vans. You can’t go wrong with black Vans.”
She sniffs indignantly. “And how would you know?”
“Because Hannah picked them out, and Hannah’s never wrong about anything,” Seth says. “And Lea, seriously, don’t apologize. I’m just glad you’re feeling better.”
“Thanks,” I murmur, suddenly hating him for treating me so nice. Lying to his face would be way easier if he was mean. And then I immediately hate myself even more for hating him. Shit, can’t any of this just be simple?
“Oh, Seth, guess what?” Brie suddenly says. “Lea’s a photographer.”
My throat tightens, and my breath freezes in my chest, and I whip my gaze toward Brie. How the hell does she know what I’m hiding? Did she look at the files on my camera while I was sleeping?
I must look as horrified as I feel, because she just bites at her lip and says, “Oh, sorry. Do you not like people knowing that?”
She sounds completely innocent, and I let out a breath as I realize she’s not about to accuse me of anything. But I can’t seem to fill my lungs again, and my voice is breathy as I say, “I...no, I don’t usually tell people. I’m, um, kind of quiet about it.”
At least it’s sort of true. I sell prints of my photos online, but I’ve never liked people from my personal life looking at my work. Even though I never directly aim my camera toward myself, I always find small bits of me in my photos, and I don’t like people I know being able to see them as well.
“Sorry,” Brie says again. “I totally didn’t mean to embarrass you. It’s just, Seth’s been looking for someone to help him with a photo project, and none of us are any good with cameras. So I was sort of thinking you might help him.”
“Don’t feel obligated,” Seth says, and the dismissal in his tone is obvious. “It’d never work right if you didn’t want to show your stuff to other people.”
“Yeah, sorry, but I’m definitely not the person you’re looking for,” I say. “And I don’t even do much photography anymore. I just have too many things going on. Um, you know, senior year stuff and all that.”
Everyone groans in sympathy, and the subject switches to the colleges people are waiting to hear back from. I return to sitting in silence, grateful to let them sweep the conversation away from me. I scored high on my SATs right before the accident, but I didn’t even want to send in any applications last semester. It didn’t feel right to be planning my future while Camille was trapped in a hospital bed. Dad managed to convince me to send in a few apps, but I’ve been deliberately avoiding the envelopes he occasionally sets on my dresser, which I know are replies from admissions offices.
I spend the rest of breakfast poking at my eggs and watching Seth as discreetly as possible. He looks so different than he did in the courtroom—no swollen red eyes, no cringing whenever a door slams, no clutching at his dog’s scruff like she’s the only thing keeping him
“Hey,” he says. “You feeling better? Brie says you were pretty sick.”
Sick. That’s one word to describe what I am. I know I’m a bitch for taking advantage of his blindness, but it’s too good of an opportunity to pass up. With my throat healed, my voice sounds completely different than it did during the trial. And since he can’t see what I look like, and I’m using a different name, there’s pretty much no way for him to recognize me.
“I’m fine,” I mumble. “Um...sorry I threw up all over your shoes.”
Hannah and Maddie giggle and exchange looks, apparently still thinking my nervousness has to do with his good looks. Brie shoots them a disapproving glance and then says to me, “Don’t apologize. He needed a new pair anyway. They were totally ugly.”
Seth chuckles a little. “Brie, they were black Vans. You can’t go wrong with black Vans.”
She sniffs indignantly. “And how would you know?”
“Because Hannah picked them out, and Hannah’s never wrong about anything,” Seth says. “And Lea, seriously, don’t apologize. I’m just glad you’re feeling better.”
“Thanks,” I murmur, suddenly hating him for treating me so nice. Lying to his face would be way easier if he was mean. And then I immediately hate myself even more for hating him. Shit, can’t any of this just be simple?
“Oh, Seth, guess what?” Brie suddenly says. “Lea’s a photographer.”
My throat tightens, and my breath freezes in my chest, and I whip my gaze toward Brie. How the hell does she know what I’m hiding? Did she look at the files on my camera while I was sleeping?
I must look as horrified as I feel, because she just bites at her lip and says, “Oh, sorry. Do you not like people knowing that?”
She sounds completely innocent, and I let out a breath as I realize she’s not about to accuse me of anything. But I can’t seem to fill my lungs again, and my voice is breathy as I say, “I...no, I don’t usually tell people. I’m, um, kind of quiet about it.”
At least it’s sort of true. I sell prints of my photos online, but I’ve never liked people from my personal life looking at my work. Even though I never directly aim my camera toward myself, I always find small bits of me in my photos, and I don’t like people I know being able to see them as well.
“Sorry,” Brie says again. “I totally didn’t mean to embarrass you. It’s just, Seth’s been looking for someone to help him with a photo project, and none of us are any good with cameras. So I was sort of thinking you might help him.”
“Don’t feel obligated,” Seth says, and the dismissal in his tone is obvious. “It’d never work right if you didn’t want to show your stuff to other people.”
“Yeah, sorry, but I’m definitely not the person you’re looking for,” I say. “And I don’t even do much photography anymore. I just have too many things going on. Um, you know, senior year stuff and all that.”
Everyone groans in sympathy, and the subject switches to the colleges people are waiting to hear back from. I return to sitting in silence, grateful to let them sweep the conversation away from me. I scored high on my SATs right before the accident, but I didn’t even want to send in any applications last semester. It didn’t feel right to be planning my future while Camille was trapped in a hospital bed. Dad managed to convince me to send in a few apps, but I’ve been deliberately avoiding the envelopes he occasionally sets on my dresser, which I know are replies from admissions offices.
I spend the rest of breakfast poking at my eggs and watching Seth as discreetly as possible. He looks so different than he did in the courtroom—no swollen red eyes, no cringing whenever a door slams, no clutching at his dog’s scruff like she’s the only thing keeping him
Similar Books
