(Spin-off of Imaginary, more so specifically it's second book, Severity)
Cleo Vexer, a problematic teenage girl, is the sensation of your average pessimist and mediocre criminal. Still having to survive the rest of her senior year bitter and lonely...
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"And then he probably walked her down to the coffee shop across the street and called an Uber or something." I smile lightly as I spoke to Finley's tombstone. "It was a different kind of sadness, and for you and Caslon, I didn't go back to old habits again after that. I'm getting better, truly. I guess he wasn't all he turned out to be. Just another story to throw in my pocket and unfold sometime in the future. So you can stop rolling in your grave now, no one will ever replace you."
I look down and play with my sleeves. "No one."
Over my shoulder, an arm reached out and placed a small bouquet of green roses onto Finley's grave.
"Here once again, are you?" Oliver sits down with me. Mirroring my position, crisscrossed in the grass.
"How'd you know I'd be here?" I ask, for the most part paying attention, the other space in my mind staring of into the baby blue sky.
"A little birdie told me that you and Caslon are no longer talking to each other." Oliver smiles apologetically; warmly. "I know you like to always visit Finley after these sort of things. I mean, you came here when we broke up too."
I shift my legs so my chin can rest between my knees. "I wish he were here. I miss him more than anything; I need him."
"Come here," Oliver leans over and wraps his arms around me. It's sweet, comforting, friendly, and I'm glad that at least the calmness is more than just peace.
Oliver knew Finley well too. They were almost friends, and I know in my heart that if they had just made some plans along the line, they really would get along. Oliver's made mistakes I can forgive but not forget, but lucky for him, I know the history of that all too well. I've definitely chalked up a list.
I untangle myself from the hug and lazily smile. "I missed this too, us just being friends. You've reminded me about why I ever like you in the first place, Oliver."
"Oh, so we're finally back to a first name basis now." He teases with an eyebrow arched.
"Oh shut up," I laugh and nudge his arm lightly. I lean my head on his shoulder and stare off into the distant clouds. "What's wrong with me."
"What do you mean?" I don't have to look to know that his eyebrows are furrowed, and that he's deciphering his own answers into the clouds as well.
"I'm sitting here, calm, while yesterday I just lost two really important people in my life." I retell the twiddled thought. "So what's wrong with me?"
"Nothing," Oliver's arm wraps around my shoulder comfortingly, his head resting atop of mine. "Nothing's wrong with you. We're all just weird like that. Don't sweat it, Cleo, you're not as bad as you like to say you are."
"I know, I know," I smile. I watch the sky become infused with hues of pinks and oranges, the sun starting to set. "Thanks for being here, Oli."
"Wouldn't be anywhere else." We back away from our embrace and look at each other for the first time in what feels like hours, but probably mere minutes. We return each other's smiles and cherish the moment. Appreciating it.
My eyes fall back to Finley's grave, Finley Bellard.
"He really loved you." Oliver smiled fondly as memories filled the daze in his eyes. "I know you already know that. Finley was your world, you were his. Soulmates."
"Soulmates," The word lingers on my tongue. "He was mine and I was his, and now that's history. I should start calling him by his full name, because he became a memory such a long time ago."
I lean over and elongate my hand to touch his gravestone. I trace out the letters of his name with my thumb, taking my time.
