Page 147 of That Last Summer


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I peek into the hallway. “What?”

“Phone. It’s for you.”

I hesitate for a second and head to my parents’ room. “Who is it?”

She doesn’t answer. She just gives me a smile.

Hesitantly, I take the receiver. “Hello?”

“It’s me.”

Alex. My heart skips a beat. It dawns on me that over this whole summer, Alex has always called me on my parents’ landline. Is it possible that he doesn’t have my mobile number? Haven’t we texted? And the most incredible thing: how is it possible that I didn’t notice? Despite my distress, I manage to say, “Hey.”

Not my best effort, I know.

“Can you come to my house?”

“Now?”

“Yes, now.”

“But... we’re leaving for the church in twenty minutes.”

“It’s important.”

“All right, I’m coming.”

“I’ll wait for you.”

Click.

He hangs up.

I go into Adrián’s room; he’s not there, so I grab his car keys from the second drawer of his nightstand, head back to my bedroom for my purse, then hurry down the stairs, trying not to kill myself on my heels.

“See you all at the church!” I yell in the general direction of the kitchen, where the murmur of conversation between my parents, my brothers and Jaime—now one of the family—is coming from.

I close the front door firmly, not hearing my family’s answer—if there was one.

The whole drive to Alex’s house, I worry. Why does he want to see me? I don’t know what he wants from me, and that’s unsettling. Discouraging. It can’t be anything good. Maybe he’s going to give me the divorce papers?

Just as I get out of the car and reach to open the gate to Alex’s house, which is ajar, my cell phone chimes. River has created a special group: “Marcos.”

What the—?

River created a group

River added you

Priscila:

What does this mean?

Hugoisthestar:

A parallel group to talk about Marc’s wedding. It’s not that hard to understand, Pris.

Priscila:

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