by Rachel Hera
“So, who is Mr. Smith?” I asked.
“My butler.”
“Butler,” I could almost feel my mouth fall open –I hadn’t seen that one coming. “People still have butlers these days?”
“More than a butler, he’s like a guardian; our caretaker, per se.”
“Does that come with being British? The butler, I mean?”
“I lived in the United Kingdom for the vast majority of my life,” he laughed. “Well, damn. My secret is revealed.”
“Not a very good secret,” I said.
“True,” he agreed.
“So, your butler?” I encouraged.
“He’s more like our guardian –but he disapproves of the term ‘nanny.’”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “I can’t imagine why.”
“Right?” he chuckled.
“And you have a brother?” I was trying hard to avoid awkward pauses in conversation. Thankfully, he went with it.
“Yeah, he’s three years younger than me,” he said. “What about you –siblings?”
“I have three sisters. Two of them moved out a long time ago, and one lives Alberta while the other lives up North. Sophie, the one that still lives at home, is two years younger than me,” I told him. “She’s such a—”
“Pest?” he suggested. I nodded. “Yeah, James is the same. Every time I go somewhere at night, he just wants to come.”
“I wish Sophie was like that, it’d be easier to deal with her, but I don’t have a car –although I’ve just recently gotten my driver’s license –so I can’t go anywhere anyway. She’s always bugging me, pressing my buttons on purpose, butting heads,” I rolled my eyes. “Sometimes ‘pest’ doesn’t describe her, she’s more like a sister from hell.”
“Honestly, it’s the same with my brother,” he nodded. “I don’t know if it’s the age gap, but we don’t see eye-to-eye very often. But, at the end of the night, he’s my brother through and through.”
“I’ll admit I don’t understand Sophie,” I rubbed the back of my neck. “We’re the same generation, but how do we have so many differences in the two year gap?”
“Spoiled,” he shrugged. “The youngest ones are always the most spoiled.”
I wouldn’t say that was necessarily true within my family. Whenever I got into an argument with Sophie, our parents took my side. It was the same with my older sisters, and I think they all resented me for it. But I’d been fighting my own battles since I got my first period, so I didn’t know what their deal was.
“Maybe they should hook up,” I suggested. “Two of a kind, you know?”
He laughed, but didn’t deny or agree with me.
“Here’s a question. How old are you?”
“Nineteen,” he replied.
“Seventeen,” I said before he could ask. “So you’re out of high school then?”
“Yeah,” he said. “I currently help with my father’s business.”
“Which is?”
“Politics of sorts,” he said simply. His eyes seemed to be looking past me as he spoke those words.
“Politics… ouch… it must boring,” I teased. I hated politics, probably due to the fact that I never understood anything in class. I got the basics, but that was about it. And, to be honest, that’s all I needed for a passing grade.
“Yeah, excruciatingly so,” he nodded, his gaze coming back to my face, a slight smile gracing his lips. “But, my father insists I help. I think he just likes having someone to do his footwork.”
“Understandable,” I said. “Every politician has a footman, eh?”
He laughed again, and suddenly my insecurities were sneaking back into my mind. He thought I was awkward and weird, didn’t he? Lost his interest in me now that he was beginning to know me better?
“I should get going,” he said, glancing at his watch.
“Oh,” was all I could muster up. But instead of leaving, he leaned on the counter.
“So, I’ve had a few weeks to explore the town,” he began. “So I think I have enough confidence to take a girl on a date without feeling like an idiot.”
My disappointment was instantly washed away with a slight giddiness that I would never admit to aloud.
“That sounds good. But you’ll need this,” I told him smoothly, grabbing a pen and printing a blank receipt. I jotted down my phone number. “Here.”
“Perfect. I’ll message you later,” he told me, smiling as he looked down at it.
“I… look forward to it,” I said slowly, a small smile finding a home on my face. For the second time, I found myself watching as he disappeared into the night.
I sighed, content as I looked around the store, which was empty once again. Part of me wondered when he’d get around to messaging me. I’d never been on a date before. Wait until Maddie heard about this.
Olivia walked back into the store, carrying a sub and a bag of chips.
“Anything exciting happen while I was away?” she asked.
“Nothing worth mentioning,” I lied.
She laughed, heading into the back room to eat her dinner. “Story of my life.”
Chapter 4: Maddie
“You’re going to be okay. You’re going to make it. I can’t lose you.”
I opened my eyes slowly, the male voice sounding close and familiar. Sitting up quickly, I grabbed my phone and used it to shed light on the rest of my room. But no one was there.
“Remnants of a dream forgotten,” I murmured, taking a deep breath and letting my head fall back into my pillows. My heart pounded in my chest. I repeated the words, “You’re going to be okay. You’re going to make it. I can’t lose you.”
They sounded so familiar. Like I’d heard them before. But I couldn’t place a face to the voice. Nor could I put a timeline to the feeling of déjà vu.
I rolled onto my stomach, grabbing my notebook and flipping to the page with other dream notes on it. I glanced at my phone for the date. Two in the morning.
“Will I ever have a full night’s rest again?” I yawned and scribbled the date down, before jotting the words I’d woken up to underneath it. For three weeks, I’d been having these weird dreams, where I wake up with words, or a very, very specific mixture of feelings, or the image of something I’d never seen before. And I wrote them all down. Mostly, though, it was words. Sometimes one. Sometimes many.
“Apothecary,” I whispered into the darkness; it was the word from the night before. I looked it up on my phone during the day. It was a medicine maker of sorts, though I had no idea what it meant for my dreams, but I had a strong feeling that they were all connected.
What I’d gathered from everything so far was that someone had been rushing me someplace –presumably the Apothecary. The dreams were always fast paced. I’d wake up breathless, heart racing. Tonight, if anything, confirmed it.
“I can’t lose you,” I said again, closing my eyes. Waves of a dampened sorrow washed over me, the words sounding more heart wrenching than they had originally.
I wanted to tell Evelyn. I’d debated it constantly, but she’d laugh and chalk it up to reading one too many vampire stories. And maybe I had. Perhaps four years obsessing over the supernatural was finally paying its toll. However, my dreams had never been as intense, nor as repetitive as they were these days.
But who knew? Maybe everything meant nothing in the end.
Chapter 5: Evelyn
I took a slow drink of water, placing the glass carefully back on the table. My hands quivered slightly, and I snuck them under the table onto my lap, shaking them out inconspicuously. Almost two weeks –and hundreds of text messages –later and I was still nervous about this date… especially since he seemed to be pulling out all the stops to impress me.
“Everything okay?” Shayne asked, setting his fork down.
“It’s great,” I pulled my hands out from underneath the table and picked up my own fork. I pushed the chicken around on my plate, wishing I’d ordered something a little smaller now. “It�
�s just… I, uh, don’t really go on dates that often. Between you and me, I’m a little nervous.”
“Don’t be,” he smiled, an easy smile that managed to ease a bit of my anxiety.
“Well, when you said dinner, I thought you meant, like, a burger joint or something,” I forced a laugh. I waved a hand over the table between us, currently occupied by a bread basket and our meals. “I wasn’t expecting all… this.”
“Is it too much?” he asked.
“No,” I said quickly, then paused. I reached up to touch my hair, a braid that came over my shoulder, following it to the tip of the braid before switching my fork from one hand to the other and picking up my knife. “Well, maybe. I wasn’t expecting a date like this until I was, like, twenty-six.”
“We can calm things down afterwards with a movie,” he suggested.
“I’d like that,” the corners of my mouth twitched. “It’ll help this feel a little more awkward teenager, less awkward adult.”
“You’re funny,” he leaned with his elbows onto the table. “I feel like I could talk to you for hours.”
“And we’re at plain awkward,” I felt my face go red. “Thank you, though.”
“You act like you never get compliments,” he commented. “It’s refreshing, you know.”
“I do get them… from my mom and my best friend. From my teachers,” I shook my head.
“You’re telling me that a girl like you has no… suitors,” he didn’t look like he believed me.
“Suitors,” I laughed. “No. No suitors. I’m afraid you’ve only seen one side of me so far, and it’s the squeamish little girl side of me. I have a side that bites the head off of most people if they overstep my boundaries.”
“I don’t believe you,” he grinned.
“That’s probably for the better,” I replied. “Or else I’m pretty sure I’d scare you away.”
“I’d like to see you try,” he dared.
“I’m sure the time will come on its own,” I told him, reaching for a bun. “In the meantime, can we just gush about how delicious these rolls are?”
“They’re very good,” he agreed.
“My mom makes bread for Christmas and Easter,” I said, finishing the transition in our conversation. “And I always thought that was my favourite kind of bread, but these are up there.”
“So is bread your favourite food?” he asked.
“I do love my bread,” I nodded. “But I wouldn’t call it my favourite.”
“Then what is?”
I pressed my lips together, thinking harder than I probably should have needed to. It sounded like a simple question, but I’ve always had troubles when it came to ‘favourite’ questions. I didn’t have a specific colour I liked, or a drink I preferred. Hell, I didn’t even know whether I liked cats or dogs better. But if I had to make a choice –“Oranges.”
“Oranges,” he looked surprised.
“Yeah,” I took another sip of water. “Oranges, mandarins, clementines… Maybe I can say citrus fruits? Oh, but not grapefruit. I’ve… just always enjoyed them, or anything that has them in it..”
“The best reason for it to be your favourite,” he nodded.
“You?” I asked. “What’s your favourite food?”
“I can’t think of a particular food,” he admitted. “But my favourite drink is my mother’s hot chocolate. She used to make it all the time for me as a child, but not so much anymore.”
“Can’t you just ask her to make you some?”
“I wish it were that easy,” he gave a half-hearted smile.
“She’s not –”
“Dead? No,” he chuckled. “She’s alive and well.”
“That’s right. New York. I forgot. And here I thought this was going to get very uncomfortable for a moment,” I smiled sheepishly. “And she doesn’t make it for you when you visit?”
“That’s where things get complicated,” he mirrored my half-hearted smile. “Perhaps we’ll save it for a later date.”
“Ah, sure,” I pushed my chicken around with my fork. Conversation, conversation. “For a high end place, their chicken’s a little dry.”
Shayne laughed loudly, drawing attention from the other tables. I felt my face heat up, and I shrunk a little into my seat.
“Let’s go, then,” he wiped his mouth and set his napkin aside.
“No, you went through all this trouble,” I protested.
“Let’s go,” he repeated. “We’ll get you a burger instead, or something.”
“You say that after I’ve stuffed my face with all those bread rolls,” I shook my head. “It’s fine, Shayne. Really. The chicken’s good. The appetizer was delicious. And that’s saying a lot, since I’ve never liked shrimp. Nor mixing seafood with land-food.”
He chuckled again. “If you’re positive.”
“Thank you.” And I meant it. Shayne was too good to be true. He was funny, considerate, polite. And he was interested in me.
* * *
When I got home, I was in the best mood I’d ever been in, better than I could ever remember. I was ecstatic. I felt like the girls Maddie and I made fun of for being head over heels for a boy. In all honesty, I never thought I’d be in this position. I never thought a guy could genuinely seem to like me as anything more than a friend. But this… this was promising. I would not be forever single like I anticipated.
Or maybe I was getting my hopes too high. Maybe this was all too good to be true.
This had to be too good to be true. Things like this just didn’t happen to me.
“How was the date?” my mother poked her head into my room, checking in on me.
“It was…. Good. Unexpectedly good. He took me to dinner, we went and saw a movie. It was good. We have another date planned already.”
“Well, I’m glad you had a good time,” she smiled. “Just remember to keep in touch. You know how I get worried.”
Boy, did I –“Well, I’m home safe and sound. That’s all that matters, right?”
“You’re right,” she answered. “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” I said, trying not to sigh as I reached for the nearest book. Jurassic Park, by Michael Crichton. One of my favourite non-supernatural books. I’d reread it at least five times in the two years I’d owned it. Each time, I understood just that much more of the scientific jargon. I had to thank my biology teachers for that, I guess.
When I glanced up, my mother was gone. I heard her next door in my sister’s room. I let the sigh go, getting up and closing my door before returning to lounge on my bed. I opened the book, to the part where they realized that they needed to change how the system counted the animals. It was one of my favourite parts, but I wasn’t really interested in reading right then.
I laid the book on my stomach and sighed again, running a hand through my hair. I had taken the braid out, and the waves were very soft. As much as I had enjoyed myself tonight, I couldn’t say that it’d been perfect. Or was I just second guessing myself? I just… It felt like something was missing. Maybe it was my lack of faith in myself.
“I’m home!” Maddie called into the house from the front door. I heard her footsteps on the stairs and after a moment she was in my room, falling onto my bed beside me.
“Welcome, welcome,” I greeted, sitting up and resting my cheek on my knee. “What are you doing here so late?”
“I was thinking I’d sleep over tonight. Is that cool? My little sister is having a sleep over tonight, and I just didn’t want to be stuck with a bunch of twelve year olds. What’s wrong?” she asked, rolling onto her stomach.
“Nothing,” I told her. I didn’t want to tell her about Shayne or the date we had just had. I mean, yes, she was my best friend, and I loved her, but if she met him… I don’t know where I would stand in his books anymore. “Just a little tired. And yeah, that’s cool.”
“And here I thought you’d be more excited to see me,” she sighed, getting up. She picked up her bag, which she had dropped by the
door the moment she’d entered my room. Maddie closed my door before opening up her purse and pulling out a bottle of rum. “Look what I brought. So what have you been up to tonight? I know you were out –I called earlier and your mom said you’d be back around ten.”
If it were any other guy I’d have told her the moment she was stepped into the house. Why was this one different? And I guess a part of me wanted her to know. I was an awful liar. And she’d find out eventually. And let’s face it –I barely knew where I stood with Shayne as it was. What difference did it make?
“Really want to know?” I asked, taking a sip when she passed it my way. It was probably the only sip I was going to take all night –and she knew it.
“Well, duh,” she rolled her eyes.
“I went on a date.”
“A date?” she looked up from the bottle immediately. A grin crept widely across her face as she placed her elbow on my desk and leaned her chin into her hand. “Do tell, my friend, do tell.”
“It was with the guy that moved into that old house down the street,” I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing as she raised her eyebrows at me. I tossed my pillow at her, “Stop that. Anyway, he was really sweet. A real gentleman, if I had to describe him. He took me to a restaurant –not, like, Wendy’s or anything. Like a legitimate place. I had to use a fork and a knife.”
“Mm, so he’s rich,” she giggled. Well, I had guessed that when I heard he had a butler. “Go on.”
“Oh, Maddie,” I scooted to the end of my bed. “He was nice to talk to. I mean, we had our awkward moments, a lot of them, but he kept the conversation afloat, and smooth, and he laughed at my outrageously nerdy jokes.”
“My little girl is growing up so fast,” Maddie wiped a mock tear away.
“I’m older than you are,” I snorted.
“Yeah, well, my point remains the same. Do you think it’ll get serious? You and –what’s his name?”
“Shayne,” I told her. “Shayne Van Owen.”