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If you thought the rice was bad, you have no idea what punishment waits for you when you finally come home.
I click out of my texts and shove my phone back into my pocket, barely resisting the urge to throw the thing off the cliff. With a slow breath, I let my eyes fall closed and force the negative emotions away. I don’t want to think about him right now. I don’t want to think about what waits for me when I finally go back home.
If I go back home.
I feel Oli brush up against me, and my shoulders drop another inch. Her fingers tangle with mine and a tear trickles down my cheek, quickly followed by another. Her hand squeezes mine as she takes another step forward, her tennis shoes inches from the edge.
“Oli,” I warn, but my mouth snaps shut at the unexpected crack in my voice. I swallow, resisting when she tries to tug me forward. “It’s not safe.”
She looks at me over her shoulder and smiles softly. “Life isn’t safe.” I watch her throat bob and my shoulders drop another inch. “You have to let go, Evie.”
“I don’t know how,” I whisper, but the admission sounds loud in the silence. I bite my lip, my chin wobbling.
With a giggle, Oli says, “I’ll show you.”
And I find myself captivated by the simple way she maneuvers through life. Oli’s been through so much, I don’t think anyone would question if she broke and never got back up, but she doesn’t. She somehow finds a way to keep going, to smile, to find humor in life. I don’t get it.
My eyes flit between hers and I watch as she turns to the vast open space before us, tips her head back and screams.
With a gasp, I jump, startled from the high-pitched, unexpected sound. She screams and screams, until her body seems to deflate and her voice goes hoarse. With a grin, Oli turns back to face me, her cheeks red and coated in tears, her eyes glossy but somehow, she’s lighter.
“That’s how I let go,” she murmurs.
My brows crash together. “You just scream?”
She shrugs. “Or rage out on some assholes online.” She mimics typing on a keyboard before chuckling. “Sometimes, I just hide Chase’s filming stuff so he picks a fight with me.”
A laugh bursts free from my lips, and I wipe my eyes, shaking my head. Oli gives me a soft look and juts her chin toward the place she’d been standing.
Her eyes dance with mischief, sensing my apprehension. “Seriously. Just try it. It's a release, a way to let it all go,” she urges, her voice filled with a mixture of excitement and understanding. “No one’s listening, no one’s judging you. Out here, no one cares if you’re imperfect.”
I click my tongue. “Broken’s more like it.”
She bobs her head. “Same, dude. Same.” I see the sincerity in her eyes.
Before I realize what I’m doing, my feet are moving until my toes are nearly hanging off the edge. I take a deep breath, summoning every ounce of courage within me, and then, with a force I never knew I possessed, I unleash a primal scream into the stillness and let it all go.
It tears through the air, carrying with it the weight of my hurts and pains. Every no, every dismissal, every sympathetic look I’ve gotten when talking about the world I want to explore. Every argument between Ro and Isaac, the way they so easily put me between their hatred.
The way they used me.
Whore.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Nothing.
I scream and scream until the word stops hurting and starts feeling like nothing.
Olive joins in, her laughter bubbling up and harmonizing with the echoes of our release. We stand there, on that cliff's edge, two souls connected by a shared moment of catharsis, surrounded by the beauty of the countryside that once held me.
No more.
As the last remnants of my scream dissipate into the Georgia air, I turn to Oli, tears of gratitude covering my face and this time, I let them. “Thank you.”
She wraps her arm around me, a grin lighting up her face. “Anytime, hoe-bag.”
