by S. K. Kelley
“No.” He grimaces, his eyes darting away. “Showing my face around there again is probably the worst idea I’ve ever had. But I don’t have much of a choice, do I? Since I said I’d do it?”
“You don’t have to help me, you know.”
“But, I—”
Catching himself, he meets my gaze. His jaw is tense, his previous anxiety having returned. I get it. He’s scared of Ice, and Ice will almost certainly be home when we drop by.
I could reassure him that everything will be fine or offer to take the bus if he can drive me to the nearest bus stop—like a normal person—but I don’t want to worry about it right now. I’ll get there with or without James’ help, but dealing with Ice is a problem for tomorrow.
Instead...
“Hey, um... Why’d you bother telling me all that stuff earlier? About how you feel about me or whatever?”
He grimaces again. “I don’t— How I feel doesn’t matter, does it? It’s not important.”
“It matters to me,” I say, my voice sharper than intended. “No one has ever said that to me before. Not like that.”
“Really?”
For whatever reason, he’s surprised I’ve never been the victim of an unsolicited love confession before today. I nod, but I can’t decide whether to take offense or consider it a compliment.
“Well, I dunno,” he mumbles. “I mean, you probably wouldn’t have listened to me at all if I didn’t say it, so...”
So it was both a distraction and a trap?
“Did you mean it, though?”
“I told you; I don’t know.” He shifts his weight and scratches his arm before glancing aside. “To be honest, I haven’t been doing so great lately. I’ve been...tired, I guess.”
Tired? Hm...
After a moment of silent hesitation, his eyes flick up from his phone. “Were you—?” But he cuts himself off, runs a hand over his short hair, and tears his eyes away again.
“What?”
He forces a smile. “Nothing. It was a stupid question. Sorry.”
The room falls quiet, but I don’t press the matter.
A few minutes pass. I watch the rain through the large window. Falling, falling, and collecting in muddy puddles in the gravel lot below.
Then my phone rings.
I jump at the sound, and I hate the way my surprise turns to dread when I recognize the ringtone.
This is it.
It was inevitable, right? I’ve been gone all day. I left a note, but it was probably the least helpful note ever written. And Ice is awake now, so I have to face that.
After telling James to keep quiet, I answer the call, careful to keep my voice light and casual.
Of course, Ice immediately asks where I am.
He doesn’t sound angry, but he does sound slightly irritated—though, he’s been in a near-constant state of mild annoyance since the storm began. I can only hope his current problem is with the rain and not my unexpected absence.
“I left a note,” I say. “It’s on the table.”
“I saw the note, but you neglected to specify where you went or when you’d return.”
I wince. His tone is so dry it’s hard to believe he’s not annoyed with me.
“Oh. Sorry.” I glance at James, but his silent, wide-eyed stare isn’t helpful, so I run with the first story that comes to mind. “I’m in town. With a friend from school who wanted to hang out. We haven’t been doing much at your house because of the storm, so I thought it wouldn’t be a problem if I spent the night.”
A beat of silence. I chew on the inside of my cheek.
“You walked there?” he asks. “Through the rain?”
That is exactly how James reacted when I first arrived.
“What? No.” I laugh, having successfully suppressed my sigh. “I took the bus. Anyway, it’s not a big deal. I’ll drop by first thing tomorrow, okay?”
As we continue to talk about absolutely nothing, James listens with piqued interest, leaning forward in his seat in an apparent attempt to make out both sides of the empty conversation. I frown, and he offers me an encouraging yet uncomfortable smile that does nothing to instill confidence.
“Anyway, I’m sorry if I worried you or Night or anything.”
“We weren’t worried,” Ice says. “In any case, the storm should pass overnight. I will see you in the morning, correct?”
“Yeah, of course.”
“Goodbye, Jayde.”
He hangs up before I have a chance to respond.
Ugh...
I set my phone down and look to James, who frowns.
The conversation was brief but relatively painless—almost too painless considering recent events. His irritation faded as we spoke, and he seemed understanding enough, but he was quite brisk...
Does he not believe me?
Was my explanation too vague? Is it too hard to believe someone might invite me to hang out? Or was leaving a note without coming up with an excuse in advance a mistake?
“I can’t tell if he believed me,” I say.
James shrugs. “As long as he doesn’t find out you’re with me, I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
fifty-two
WHEN I WAKE UP, THE sky is just growing light.
The only sounds are the gentle pitter-patter of rain on the roof and the soft hum of the mini-fridge across the room. I’m warm, but the mattress is as lumpy and musty and sad as it was when I first laid down in it. The blanket, while soft, smells like sweat and rain and smoke, and the pillow is terribly flat.
James is in the same state as I last saw him too—asleep in the recliner. He is out cold, but he can’t be comfortable. His neck is at a bit of an odd angle, and his arms are folded over his chest.
I’m sure he’ll feel it when he wakes up.
Knowing he’s still asleep, I fall back on the bed and stare at the dark ceiling. I’m frustrated. Falling asleep took hours, but I slept light and woke up early, and my feet still ache from walking.
I hope my socks are dry. I doubt my boots are.
This sucks. My life is such a mess.
No matter what happens today, and no matter what I choose to do moving forward, I’m stuck with the secret of immortals for the rest of my life. Even if Ice was lying or playing me for a fool, he’s still my sponsor, so I’m probably stuck with him too.
But I haven’t had nearly enough time to myself to process the information I learned yesterday or over the past few weeks. I don’t know what to do. Or what I want. Or anything.
Ice was quick to forget everything messy, but he was more protective of me after the Fourth of July. Even when I no longer saw the danger or felt the lingering anxiety myself. Even though he’s the one who freaked me out the last time, and had reason to believe he made me uncomfortable, he still asked me to stay with him.
Did he think James would show up a third time despite being threatened and knowing the River Sapphire can’t help him? Was he worried about that?
I mean, he was right. James did show up, but—
Why didn’t anyone lock the doors?
Well... Maybe it’s better they didn’t.
Maybe it’s better that James was able to get inside if it led to me coming here. There are obviously things he still doesn’t want to tell me—things I imagine are too personal to share with a complete stranger—but I could sense his vulnerability yesterday.
And seeing firsthand what Ice did to him?
He’s afraid of Ice, and that fear is both genuine and warranted. I hate thinking he would say those things about me, whether he meant it or not, but I should take James’ fear into consideration either way.
And I hate that.
I wish I could go back in time.
Maybe I could rewind just far enough to change my mind about looking for James. I would never hear what Ice said to him, and I wouldn’t be here, stuck in this awkward, tense situation. I wouldn’t be so conflicted or confused.
No.
Coming here was the right thi
ng. After seeing him the other night, I needed to hear what he had to say.
Well, what about my stupid love confession? If I hadn’t put it off so long, I wouldn’t have caught James watching us through the window. He wouldn’t have been hurt, and Ice wouldn’t have said anything to him in the first place.
Or...I could have asked him to lie to me.
No.
I should have left the moment he rejected me instead of falling for that stupid kiss. I could have spent the rainstorm at home, heartbroken but cuddled up in a blanket and drinking hot chocolate.
Sounds nice, but—
A better idea: Fix the Fourth of July.
I could stop after one glass of Night’s spiked lemonade. I never would have kissed Ice if I hadn’t been drunk. Even if I forgot my phone at the house, I wouldn’t have been upset, so I wouldn’t have used it as an excuse to go back alone. If I could change that one decision, I wouldn’t have run into James in the backyard, and none of this would have happened.
But that’s not how life works.
Time flows in one direction, so, for better or worse, I’m stuck with what I did. All I can do now is move forward.
Besides, Ice’s motives have bothered me for a long time. As much as I hate to admit it, everyone seems to think he’s only with me out of boredom. I still don’t know what he was thinking—when he asked me out, when he told me about immortals, or when he said those nasty things to James—but I guess that much is true.
He was just bored.
But...
Does he seriously see me as nothing more than a stupid human girl? Does he not care what happens to me? Or think he can do whatever he wants? James says he likes to talk shit, but what if he meant it?
Seriously? What if he meant any of it?
He has some level of legal standing over me as my sponsor, but what does that even mean? I didn’t read his portion of the paperwork. I hardly even glanced at the pages he asked me to sign.
For all I know, he really can do whatever he wants with me, regardless of his intentions.
This is ridiculous.
We may not feel the same way about each other, but Ice is still my friend. He likes me and finds me interesting enough to hang out with, and after everything he’s done for me—the dates, the money, the River Sapphire, and letting me stay over so long—I seriously can’t imagine he would hurt me.
I can’t imagine it, but—
If he tried, could James stop him?
Ice is fast and powerful. I saw it with my own eyes. James’ heart may be in the right place, but I can’t imagine he stands a chance against Ice. He obviously didn’t last week.
These are not healthy thoughts, Jayde.
Calm down. Think rationally. I’m crossing into horror movie territory. Things like that don’t happen in real life, right?
Though, shapeshifters shouldn’t exist in real life either.
Forget it.
Ice was bluffing. He was pissed to find James outside. Maybe it was something he said in the heat of the moment, knowing it would freak James out and scare him off. Assuming he said any of those things in the first place. James could be lying.
Eh...
James isn’t the most eloquent, but he tried. He admitted to screwing up. He apologized—several times. He feels awful about what he did, and he was scared to tell me what Ice said. But he was at least willing to talk.
That’s not quite the experience I’ve had with Ice, who, while generally chatty and charismatic, managed to turn side-stepping questions into an art. What is he hiding from me?
Ugh...
It is way too early for this kind of stress. I sit up and roll the throw blanket into a ball in my lap.
James is still passed out. I don’t think he’s shifted since I last checked. At least he got some sleep out of this deal. It seemed like he needed it.
I wonder... How does he really feel?
Does it not matter? Is it not important?
With a sigh, I set the blanket aside and check my phone. Of course, it won’t turn on. The battery must have died overnight.
I leave the bed. I stand in front of the window and look out over the gravel lot. Grey clouds fill the sky. Rain falls, constant but slow and gentle with little wind shifting the tops of the trees.
The storm is passing.
Great.
I turn away.
Should I wake James up now? If we leave early enough, Ice might still be asleep when I get there. I could stay and have him drive me home when he wakes up.
Or I could just grab my bag and go.
I cross the room. Standing in front of the recliner, I reach out to touch James’ arm, but I hesitate. My hand falls back to my side.
Despite his awkward, dead sleep and the dark circles beneath his eyes. Despite the myriad of partially healed injuries across the right half of his face, the faint bruise on his jaw, and his black eye and slightly crooked nose, James is very much an immortal, and still blessed with the gift of conventional attractiveness.
I thought he was cute when I first saw him at the mall too.
But he’s somehow different from the other immortals I’ve met. His features are softer. His cheeks hold a touch of roundness. He’s more down-to-earth, less refined, and lacks an immortal’s signature heightened focus and deliberate ease.
Is it because he’s defective? Because he didn’t grow up with the privilege “normal” immortals have? Is it his low opinion of himself? The fact he views himself as an outsider?
Or because he simply doesn’t take care of himself?
Whatever it is, something about James strikes me as more human—more approachable and relatable. There’s something less performative and more...authentic about him.
Ah—
My breath catches as I notice my heart beating faster than it should. You are not supposed to be checking him out, Jayde! At this rate, the existence of immortals will turn me into Rose.
Stop being so weird.
“James.” He doesn’t react, so I tap him on the shoulder. “Hey, wake up.”
With a small start, he opens his uninjured eye. “Oh, good,” he breathes. “You’re still here.”
I cross my arms. “Where else would I be?”
“Yesterday could have been a fever dream,” he says, still blinking away the sleep as he sits up straight.
“Right... Anyway, can we go now?”
“Yeah, sure.” He yawns and stretches his arms over his head, popping a few vertebrae in the process. “What time is it?”
I shrug and mention that my phone died, so he retrieves his phone from the depths of the recliner. His expression blanks as he stares at the screen with some level of disappointment.
“Ah...” He glances up with a pained smile. “The first time I sleep for more than a couple hours in days, and you wake me up at 6AM? Can’t you wait?”
It’s that early? Oops.
“I’ve been up for at least an hour,” I say.
“Whatever. It’s fine.”
He leaves the chair to stretch more. He surely needs it, especially if his head was at that angle the entire night.
I walk back to the bed, where I sit and scrape partially dried mud off the sides of my boots. I can try to scrub them properly when I get home, but it’s not good. They might be a lost cause.
And I just bought them...
“It’s better if we go early,” I say with a sigh. “If Ice is asleep, there’s no chance of him seeing you.”
“That’s fair.”
If Ice is asleep, all I have to do is grab my bag and walk out.
But the storm is over. The rain is easing up.
Will he be asleep?
I give up on cleaning my boots and put them on as they are, looking up as James casts a nervous glance from across the room.
“What will you do after?” he asks.
“Go home, I guess.”
He shrugs on his dark jacket while I gather my things from beside the bed. My own jacket is still a litt
le damp. It’s not cold today, though, so I ball it up and tuck it under one arm.
The River Sapphire.
I put the necklace on. I don’t turn into a cat, but I haven’t been expecting to in a while.
After pulling my hair up into a messy bun, I join James near the door, and we walk downstairs in silence. I grab my umbrella from the coat rack in the vestibule, and we’re ready to go.
I still have no idea what I’ll do once I get to Ice’s house, though.
Do I want to grab my bag without waking Ice up and have James drive me home? Do I want James to drop me off and leave, so I can talk to Ice without worrying about him getting caught?
Should I confront Ice at all? Could I without bringing James into it?
“Can we stop somewhere to eat?” I ask. “I’m hungry.”
“Of course. Whatever you want.”
Good. My empty stomach surely isn’t helping my nerves.
I suggest we stop by a convenience store on the way. Something quick and easy, so we don’t waste time.
James agrees. As the car rattles to life, he mutters, “God knows I could use some caffeine.”
fifty-three
WE’VE BEEN IN WESTBROOKE for a while. At least fifteen minutes. We’re procrastinating—sitting in James’ car, idled on the curb a block down from the house. I finished my biscuits and gravy a few minutes ago. James is on his second energy drink.
He’s clearly...stressed.
But there’s nothing to worry about, right? It’s fine if I leave. I already told them I planned to go home after the storm, and the storm is over, so...
I tear my eyes from the window to watch James again. He takes a drink, nests the can in the center console’s broken cup holder, and returns one hand to the steering wheel.
After a long, quiet moment, he sighs and turns to me.
“You won’t have trouble grabbing your stuff and coming right back out, will you? You know I can’t afford to get caught around here again.”
Oh, jeez.
“My duffel bag is in Ice’s bedroom,” I say slowly. “Everything is already packed up, but— What should I do if he’s awake?”
He frowns and folds his arms over the steering wheel. “You told him you were staying at a friend’s house, right? Just say your friend will drive you home. He won’t want to come out in the rain, anyway.”