Chapter 26 A day without shadows
Then she smiled again. “Perfect.”
Lila didn’t notice the flicker in her expression, the brief confusion, the way Ruby quickly swiped past the image before Lila could see.
They spent the rest of the afternoon meandering through the campus gardens. Ruby picked wildflowers and tucked them behind Lila’s ear. Lila retaliated by throwing a handful of petals at her.
It turned into a chase, laughter echoing between the hedges.
“You’re childish!” Lila shouted, running.
“Hey, I'm joyful!” Ruby corrected, breathless and grinning.
By the time they collapsed on the grass, both were laughing so hard their stomachs hurt.
For the first time since Serena’s death, Lila felt something close to freedom.
She lay back, staring at the sky through the branches. “You make it look easy,” she said softly.
Ruby turned her head. “What?”
“Living and laughing.”
Ruby smiled faintly. “It’s not. I just fake it better.”
Lila looked over. Ruby’s expression was calm, but her eyes were far away.
There was a story there about something unsaid. But Lila didn’t press. She knew too well what it meant to guard your ghosts.
Evening crept in before they realized it. The campus lights flickered on one by one, painting the pathways gold. They walked back toward the dorms, talking about trivial things like bad cafeteria food, impossible professors, the rumors about someone turning the Dean’s car into a living art piece.
As they climbed the dorm stairs, Ruby said, “We should do this again. Probably tomorrow or the weekend. You, me, cameras, ice cream, and chaos.”
Lila smiled. “Deal.”
They reached their door. Ruby unlocked it, then paused.
“Hey,” Ruby said quietly. “Thanks for hanging out today. You’re different when you’re not scared.”
Lila blinked. “Scared?”
Ruby shrugged lightly. “Not in a bad way. J
You just walk like you’re always bracing for something.”
Lila didn’t know what to say.
Ruby smiled softly, breaking the moment. “Anyway. I’m glad you’re here.”
“Me too,” Lila said and for once, she meant it.
That night, after Ruby fell asleep, Lila sat by the window with her notebook open. She didn’t write. She just watched the campus below, where students still lingered, laughing under lamplight.
Her phone buzzed, it was a message from Asher. “Hey, are you okay?”
She stared at it for a long time, then turned the screen face-down. She wasn't ready to deal with him. She was having fun with her new friend and roommate.
Outside, wind brushed the trees. The sound was soft, rhythmic and almost like breathing.
She closed her eyes, telling herself she imagined it.
But when she opened them again, her gaze drifted to the photo Ruby had printed earlier, the one from the steps.
They were in the sunlight, smiling.
Suddenly, in the bottom corner,she saw something she hadn’t noticed before. A faint reflection in the glass window behind them. A shadowed shape, tall, blurred, and watching.
It might have been a trick of the light.
It might not.
Lila traced the outline with her fingertip, her chest tightening, a cold unease prickling beneath her ribs.
Then she laughed softly to herself. “Get a grip.” She set the photo face-down on her desk and turned off the light.
Outside, the wind shifted carrying the faint scent of roses through the open window.
Saturday morning arrived with a kind of peace Lila hadn’t felt in months.
For once, she woke to sunlight instead of nightmares. The room smelled faintly of vanilla and fresh linen Ruby’s doing. Her new roommate had a habit of spraying scent mist before bed, “to ward off bad dreams,” she’d said.
Lila blinked sleepily and turned in her sheets. Ruby was already up, her hair was a messy halo of red, music playing softly from her phone as she danced around in an oversized T-shirt that said “Don’t Sleep.”
“Morning, Sleeping Beauty!” Ruby chirped. “You were out cold. I thought you were dead.”
Lila groaned, burying her face in her pillow. “Don’t say that word.”
Ruby laughed. “Fine. You were comatose, is that better?”
“Barely.”
Ruby grinned and twirled her hair into a loose bun. “Get up. We’re going out.”
Lila squinted. “Where?”
“Anywhere that serves coffee and something fried.”
Lila sat up, rubbing her eyes. “You’re impossible.”
“Impossible is just fun with a little chaos,” Ruby replied, tossing her a hoodie.
They ended up at Milo’s Café, a student favorite just off campus with mismatched chairs, scribbled poetry on the walls, and the constant hiss of the espresso machine.
Ruby ordered two caramel lattes and a pile of waffles that could have fed a small army.
“Do you really eat like this every morning?” Lila asked, cutting into hers.
Ruby shrugged. “Life’s short. Butter’s cheap.”
Lila snorted, nearly choking on a strawberry.
Ruby grinned, pleased with herself. “You laughed. That’s progress.”
“I laugh.”
“Not like that.”
Lila rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop smiling.
For the next hour, they talked about nothing and everything. Classes, strange professors, the time Ruby’s camera lens exploded during a workshop artistic combustion, Ruby had called it.
“You ever just feel like you’re living someone else’s story?” Ruby said at one point, stirring her latte. “Like you woke up halfway through the book and forgot the first half?”
Lila looked at her, thoughtful. “Yeah,” she said quietly. “All the time.”
Ruby gave her a small, knowing smile not pushing, not prying.
“Then we’ll start a new story,” she said. “One where we actually get a happy ending.”
After breakfast, Ruby dragged Lila downtown.
They wandered through the weekend street market, weaving between stalls of handmade jewelry, thrifted clothes, and old vinyl records.
Ruby insisted on trying every scented candle. “Ooh, this one’s called Midnight Garden. Smell it.”
Lila leaned in, sniffed, and recoiled. “That’s just soap.”
Ruby gasped dramatically. “Blasphemy! It’s art in wax form.”
“Art that smells like detergent.”
“Detergent of the gods,” Ruby said solemnly.
Lila burst into laughter again, this time real, and unguarded. It felt good, and strange, and a little scary, like her heart wasn’t used to the space happiness took up.
They found a photo booth near the fountain, one of those old, creaky ones that printed in black-and-white. Ruby squealed. “We have to!”
“No way.”
“Yes way. Come on!” Ruby grabbed her hand and pulled her in before she could argue.
The curtain fell closed behind them. The small booth smelled faintly of dust and ink. Ruby leaned in, whispering, “Okay, serious face for the first one.”
Lila straightened, pretending to pose like a statue.
“Now smile like you just got away with murder,” Ruby said.
Lila laughed mid-click.
“Now,” Ruby grinned, “show me your most dramatic despair.”
Lila clutched her heart, gasping dramatically.
The machine whirred, and a strip of photos slid out four frames of pure ridiculousness.
Ruby snatched them up, beaming. “Perfect. We’re keeping these forever.”
Lila shook her head, cheeks flushed. “You’re such a menace.”
“Admit it. I make life better.”
“You make it louder.”
“Same thing,” Ruby said with a wink.
Then, they wandered into a tiny vintage bookstore. Dust motes floated in the sunbeams slanting through the high windows. The smell of old paper wrapped around them like warmth.
Ruby darted straight for the art section, flipping through photography books with an almost reverent focus.
Lila lingered in the poetry aisle, fingertips brushing spines. She found a worn copy of Sylvia Plath and opened it at random.
The line stared back at her.
“I am terrified by this dark thing that sleeps in me.”
She exhaled slowly and shut the book.
Ruby peeked around the corner. “Find something depressing again?”