“My dad bought me a really cool telescope,” I say, interrupting our quiet. “I think I was about eleven or twelve. Sometimes we’d wait until my mom was asleep and we’d sneak out into the darkness to check out all the stars. I remember he always told me to wish on the biggest ones because those are the wishes that would come true.” I let out a sigh filled with sadness. “I remember when I found out my mom had breast cancer, I wished so hard on one of those big stars, but.…” My voice trails off, not really wanting to go there.
Fran places her hands on mine, squeezing lightly. “Do you think you’ll ever see him again?”
I take a deep breath and rest my chin on the top of her head, the topic of my dad always a constant drain. “Caleb and I were just talking about this. I honestly don’t know how to reach him and I don’t even know if he’d want to see me.”
“But what about you? Do you want to see him?”
“I don’t know,” I answer honestly, because I really don’t. He wouldn’t know the first thing about who I am now, and I certainly know nothing about the man he’s become.
I hesitate for a second before I ask my next question. Fran doesn’t talk much about her mom and dad and something tells me I might be skating on thin ice. “What about your dad, Fran?”
Her limbs tense underneath me and she lifts her head away, her posture rigid. “My dad…he’s…dead.”
“Jesus, Fran. I’m sorry. I had no idea.” And now I feel like an ass for bringing it up. No wonder she doesn’t want to talk about it. I turn her around to face me and cup her shoulders, meeting nothing but emptiness in her eyes. “Honestly, I’m so sorry.”
Her arms go around my waist and she latches onto me. I hug her tightly, giving her whatever she needs right now. She sniffles, and I continue to hold her, combing my fingers through her hair in a rhythmic motion.
“If you ever want to talk about it, I’m here,” I say in a soft voice and she nods her head against my chest but doesn’t let go.
I can feel her heartbeat, a slow boom against my own, the warmth of our bodies seeping into one another. She shifts and I kiss her hair before she backs away, staring into the recesses of my eyes, or maybe it’s my soul. I’m so lost in her at this point, I have no idea.
“Thank you,” she murmurs, fingering a strand of her hair and twirling it.
“I don’t know what I did, but you’re welcome,” I answer, taking a thread of her hair between my own fingers and rolling it around. “What do you say we go back in and find Caleb and Peyton?”
“Sure,” she responds, but still I feel so much sadness emanating from her and want to make her smile again.
“Hey,” Peyton says, when we make it back to the table, “I was wondering where you two disappeared to.” A subtle lift of her brow and a wink in Fran’s direction isn’t lost on me.
“We were out on the terrace, admiring the view.” Fran glances at me, a smile finally returning to her lips. Lips that I most definitely want to kiss again.
“So I have an idea,” I interject, “let’s go for a swim. There’s an amazing pool on the twenty-sixth floor with a view of the entire city.”
“I love that idea.” Peyton bounces with enthusiasm while the smile falls off of Fran’s face.
“Why don’t we do something else instead?” Fran asks. Her voice rattles, lacking its usual confidence. “Like…have a few more drinks or…maybe go out to a club.”
“Come on, Fran,” Caleb chimes in, “what’s better than a swim under the stars?”
Fran tries to catch Peyton’s eye as if to silently communicate something, which I’m now extremely curious about, but she’s too lost in Caleb to notice. This Fran is someone I don’t recognize, very different from the girl I’ve grown to know in just four short days. I’m trying to figure out the shift and it seems to have happened when I mentioned the pool. Maybe she can’t swim?
We cram our way through the packed bodies at the bar and out to the bank of elevators and it’s pretty obvious to me that Fran is lagging behind.
“I think I’m just going to go to my room and make it an early night.” She bites at her fingernail without looking up at us.
“No, you’re not,” Peyton says adamantly. She waves a hand at us and concentrates on Fran. “We’ll meet you up at the pool in thirty minutes.”
Caleb and I wait for the elevator and when it arrives I let him walk on first before taking one more look at Fran…and seeing nothing but fear.
Chapter Twenty-Three – Fran - Theories
Peyton drags me back to my room without saying a word, but once inside she lays into me. “What the fuck is going on? I want to know right now!” She sits at the edge of the bed with her arms crossed over her chest, her leg anchored over her knee. “Well, I’m waiting,” she bites out.
“I’m not going swimming, Peyton. You go ahead and have fun. I just want to go to bed,” I say, resigned, hurling my shoes across the room.
“Okay, what am I missing here? Did something happen with you and Matt?”
I slink over to the dresser and pull off my earrings and bracelets. “Just go on, Peyton, I’m fine.”
She hops off the bed, her eyes brimming with determination. “I’m not leaving here until you tell me what’s wrong.”
I throw my hands up in the air and groan. “Fine. Why don’t I want to go swimming?” Grabbing the hem of my dress, I pull it up over the burn marks on my thighs and past my belly. “This is why! I don’t want Matt to see my scars! Okay! Happy now?”
The anger on Peyton’s face dissipates, her eyes softening, her shoulders slumping. “Oh, Fran. I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I’m such a bitch.”
“No,” I reply on a deep sigh. “You’re not. I just….” I cast my eyes to the carpet. “I don’t want him to know how damaged I am, to see all the ugliness. He kissed me tonight, Peyton.” I lift my eyes back up to hers. “I’ve never been kissed like that before. It’s like he took possession of me yet I felt so safe with him, and I’ve never had that, and…I feel guilty saying this, but it wasn’t even like that with Kyle. I was lost, completely and totally lost in his arms.”
Peyton takes my hand and sits me down next to her on the carpet, exhaling heavily. “Fran, ugly isn’t even a word that could be used to describe you, and…do you really think that’s the type of person Matt is? That he would honestly be bothered by that? I mean, I know you haven’t known him that long, but even I can see he’s not shallow. He’s a good guy, Fran.”
“I know!” I laugh bitterly, lying down on the carpet. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
“Oh, honey.” She falls back and leans her head against mine. “Aren’t you the one who told me not to overthink, to just have fun?”
“Yeah.”
“So let’s go have some fun.” She nudges me with her shoulder playfully. “Swimming under the stars with two seriously hot guys, what could be more fun than that?”
“Fine,” I concede, pouting, “but I’m wearing my one-piece and a sarong, and I may not swim.”
“One step at a time. You’re coming, and that’s good enough.” She hangs her shoes over her shoulder, smiling. “I’ll be back in ten to pick you up.”
After Peyton walks out, I lie face down on the bed and bang my head on the cushioned mattress before flipping over on my back. What the hell is wrong with me? I rub my thumb over the contour of my lips, remembering the kiss that’s washed away the memory of every other kiss I’ve ever had. I should feel more bogged down by guilt, but I don’t. Maybe that means I’m on the road to healing. God, the way Matt’s tongue caressed mine, I could’ve kissed him forever. But I don’t have forever. I have ten days.