The One Without Words

❀ chapter eighteen | eli the alibi ❀

"The boat is fine, Eli," I snapped, "but you know what's not fine? My flower shop."

Eli's voice, frantic through the speaker: "How was I supposed to know they'd do that?"

I had to take a moment to breathe. In. Out. In. Out as the wreck in front of me called every ounce of my attention, the biggest floral massacre of the century. I pressed my phone closer to my ear.

"Are you sure it was Seth's friends?" I asked him.

"I mean, who else?" Eli said. "I doubt they left my place yesterday to go back to their dorms or something. I just don't understand how they knew where your shop was at."

Right. Eli still didn't know about the pepper spray incident, which had made it very obvious where our business was located. Great.

"And," Eli added. "I don't understand how they think they'll get away with it."

I scoffed and kicked away a shard of broken glass. "Cavemen."

"Have you called the police yet?"

"Talia's on it." I looked over at my step-sister, snotty and in tears as she dialed 911 about the break-in. "At least we emptied the register yesterday. They might've ruined all the fresh orchids Talia got last week, but they didn't take our money. I'd have a fit if they did."

Eli let out a low laugh. "You and your money."

"You and your poems," I said. "Which reminds me. What happened yesterday after you made me and Jack float across the lake like it was Titanic 2.0?"

Silence. We should've been opening for business right now, relishing in that sweet cash flow, but any potential customer would walk by and see nothing but the mess of glass and petals everywhere, a frazzled Talia on the curb.

"It's... it's a long story," Eli muttered. "And what's that noise? Is someone... crying?"

"Ignore that; my sister's just having a break down. But tell me. Last night. Did Seth go with his friends, or did he stay with you?"

Eli hesitated before admitting, "He stayed. I made him clean up the party mess."

I let out a laugh. "Oh, really? He actually did that for you?"

"Maybe he felt bad. Who knows when it comes to Seth."

"Did you forgive him? Are you still friends?"

"Seth doesn't have friends. He has people to validate his ego and people to act reckless with."

"And which one were you?"

"Why do you care?" Eli stammered. "Are you jealous?"

"Just nosey."

Talia got off the phone. She walked into our shop through the huge gap where the window used to be, blank and defeated.

"Okay, I have to go," I said to Eli. "If you find Seth, don't forget to kick his ass for me."

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Dinner that evening was ten times more awkward than usual. Mostly because Talia and I spent most of it discussing the break-in with Dad and Greta, how the police had arrived at the scene, started an investigation, and would be conducting more interviews soon. The only problem? I didn't know anything about our prime suspects: Douchebag, Pizza tattoo guy, and Mophead. Seth Borovkov was the only caveman I knew for sure, but according to Eli, who would also be interviewed, he'd spent the night with him.

"How will we pay for the repairs?" I asked Dad and Greta.

"I think we have insurance," Greta said with a frown as she dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. The flower business was her baby, and to know it'd been violated—by a bunch of cavemen no less—must've taken its toll. I'd given her and Dad the short story version of the recent events, including the pepper spray incident. Going to yesterday's party would usually get me grounded, but given our circumstances here, they'd let it slide. Not that they cared anyway.