24. Chapter 24
Chapter 24
Cedric
I pass a hand across my face before taking another sip of sparkling water and typing an email to Joe’s assistant. The bar I’ve settled in is quiet enough for me to think, and not enough for my thoughts to wander freely–which is precisely what I need.
“Another round, sir?” the young waitress asks, adjusting the pencil behind her ear with one hand.
“Why not,” I nod, holding the glass toward her. She tips her carafe, filling the glass to the brim.
“You’re Delilah’s friend, right?” she adds.
I keep forgetting how small this town is. “I suppose you could say that.”
She looks at me expectantly, though if she assumes I’m going to give away more information about Delilah and I, she’s about to be disappointed. I’m sure at this point there might’ve been enough speculation on the subject that she could ask any other person in this room and they’d offer some version of the truth.
What they think is the truth anyway, because I’m not sure what we are. If I even have the right to think about us as something.
“She’s super cool,” the girl adds then, swaying on her feet, black curls bouncing with the movement. Now that I take a better look at her, she looks remarkably like someone else I know.
“Forgive my assumption, but–are you by chance related to Faye?”
“YES, I’m Izzy!” she says excitedly, the carafe nearly slipping out of her hands. “I’m her sister! Well, I’m her best friend, but she’d deny it if you asked her, so don’t tell her I said it.”
“Your secret is safe with me,” I assure her. I find myself bemused by this teenager, who, except for the looks, seems to be Faye’s exact opposite. She’s wearing a bright yellow jumper beneath her apron, pea-green corduroy pants and matching yellow sneakers. From what I’ve gathered about Faye, she wouldn’t be caught dead wearing a primary color. Her younger counterpart looks like she’s bottled up enough energy she could go on without sleeping for a few days.
“Cool,” she says, giving me a toothy grin. She turns, though her sneakers screech on the linoleum floor as she just as quickly pivots to face me again .
“Oh, by the way, Faye said Delilah is ‘ goddamn smitten’ with you.” Her expression falls, worry creeping onto her face. “Don’t tell her I told you that either.”
“I won’t,” I say quietly as she leaves, giving me a thumbs up.
Perhaps not all hope is lost , I think to myself. My improving mood instantly sours as I look back at my computer, my fingers hovering above the keys. The idea of a life where both Marcus and I could be free of our father’s requests and threats, where we’re not under his thumb anymore… That it’s finally within reach is unbelievable, and that’s precisely why I have a hard time believing it.
I’ve signed the leasing contract, though I will be taking the full allotted time, as agreed upon, to make some other arrangements. I will let you know when all is done.
I take a breath before adding my signature to the email and pressing send.
Exchanging false pleasantries with Joe’s lackeys, even via email, vexes me to no end.
But for my brother, I would do this and much more.
Whatever loss I’ll have to bear.
Delilah
I had every intention of spending the rest of my day moping in bed with Blaine and something sweet to console me if it hadn’t been for Faye.
She literally barges in the cottage, just as I was about to carry a tin of butter cookies up the stairs. We have spare keys for each other’s homes for emergencies and whatnot, but she uses her key privileges at her leisure. I don’t mind, usually, but I don’t know if I’m ready for tough love right now .
“What are you doing?” she asks, hands on her hips.
“Going upstairs,” I reply with a smile, stalling, because I know that’s not what she meant.
“Lila,” she says, rolling her eyes. “We need to talk about this.”
I frown, and I know I’m being a little petulant, but it’s been a really crappy day–and Full Moon Day aside, I do my best not to have a lot of those.
I’ve never had a disposition for unhappiness, but it seems it’s out to get me anyway. Also, I wolfed out when I wasn’t supposed to. I think I get a free pass this once.
“I would prefer to eat my feelings, if that’s all the same to you,” I say, clutching the tin to my chest.
Faye nods, because this is not her preferred method of facing problems, but she’ll concede it’s mine.
“Fine, but I want chocolate chip,” she says, taking off her shoes. Blaine barks at Faye’s feet, his paws skittering excitedly on the floor.
“What makes you think you’re entitled to cookies?” she asks Blaine, who is peering up at her, panting softly.
Despite myself, I laugh as I grab Faye’s choice of dessert, and we both head upstairs.
After an hour of Faye browsing lazily through old photo albums, snorting when she finds embarrassing photos of us (which there’s a lot of) and emptying both cookie jars, she all pries the journal I’d been doodling shapeless flowers on and throws it on the floor.
“Hey, I was using that,” I pout .
“Were you writing your life story?”
“No, but–”
“Then posterity will forgive me,” Faye says.
We look at each other for a beat, and with a resigned huff I ask, “What does it say about me, that I feel worse about telling Cedric to leave than the fact I’ve terrorized the shop?”
“That you have better taste in men than Myrta has in decor or alarm systems,” Faye provides unhelpfully.
“Be serious,” I say with a feeble smile.
“I am! Lila, what happened last night is not your fault. You literally could have done nothing to prevent it.”
Though I’ve always thought the same, I’m now beginning to wonder if it’s not completely true. There has to be some sort of way for me to control myself. There has to be.
“That had never happened before,” I say, scratching Blaine’s back lightly. “I mean, if I know when the full moon will be, I can plan accordingly. But now, if it can happen at any time, no matter the moon… what am I going to do, Faye?” I shake my head against my pillow, hopelessness starting to pull me from every which way.
“There’s no wrong way to be a werewolf. Not in Fern Port, at least.”
“There is if someone gets hurt. It was sheer luck that Myrta managed to clear the square before I got there. And If it had happened a few minutes earlier, I might not have been able to get Cedric off me and out of the–”
I know my mistake before I’m done with the sentence.
“Hold up,” Faye says. “Cedric was where ? On who ? I thought you kissed in the water .”
“I might have omitted a few details about the evening after that,” I say quietly, covering my face with my free hand. As if that could save me .
“Okay, fine!” I cry. “He kissed me, and things were picking up, so we sort of, well, moved to the bedroom because the sofa wasn’t comfortable, I guess–”
“About time you got some action,” she says, shaking her head. “So you and Cedric were getting it on, and then…?”
“And then I felt I was going to change, and I didn’t exactly have somewhere to hide! So I essentially kicked him out.”
“Huh,” Faye says.
“What are you thinking?” I ask, knowing the expression on her face means the cogs are turning.
“What if it wasn’t out of the blue?” Faye says, biting her thumbnail, brows scrunched in concentration.
“What do you mean?”
“Like–okay, let’s think about it. When do you remember feeling like you were going to change without the moon’s influence?”
“But that’s the thing, Faye–I’d never thought it would happen before yesterday. I mean, I’ve had a couple of incidents with my claws, like I told you on the phone, but they were gone in minutes. There weren’t any signs I would turn completely.”
“But do you remember when the first time was?”
I think about that morning, when I’d just gotten to work–wasn’t that the day I met Cedric? I tell Faye as much.
“Any other times?” she presses on.
“Apart from yesterday, before we were about to kiss, I don’t think so.” Some sort of realization is at my fingertips.
Faye wrings her hands, then claps them once. “Don’t you see a pattern here? These changes happened when you had, let’s say, strong feelings. It sounds like Cedric has been a sort of trigger for you, or rather, your emotions in his presence. ”
My eyes go saucer-wide, my mouth hanging open. “Does that mean I’ll have to keep Cedric away for good? Because my feelings for him could set off a transformation at any time?”
I can’t wrap my mind around that. It would mean turning into a different person.
“No,” she says, placing a comforting hand on my arm. Ever since I was Turned, Faye has struggled with physical contact, so I don’t take the small gesture lightly. I hope she’s not afraid I’m going to go in beast mode right now, given how I’m beginning to spiral.
“Lila, this stuff isn’t science. I have watched every movie on the subject out there, even the Polish ones,” she says emphatically, as if that were supposed to mean something to me.
“If this theory is right, you’re going to have to learn to manage your emotions around him, but that doesn’t mean you’ll have to push them away.”
I must look skeptical, because Faye turns to me fully, brown eyes determined.
“Remember when you first Turned? You thought your life was over–yet here you are. You haven’t hurt a soul. Except for that fly you splattered on the window with your–”
“It was an accident!”
“What I was trying to say, and you know I mean it, is that you’re still you. And we will find a way for that to keep being the case, whether Cedric has to do with this or not. Alright?”
“Alright… I suppose the situation doesn’t warrant a hug?” I sniff, my eyes stinging with tears of gratitude.
Faye rolls her eyes, but extends her arms. “Make it quick, Anders.”
I take it as an enthusiastic suggestion, rather than an order, and squeeze her as tightly as I can.
“Lila,” Faye wheezes, sounding short on air. “Wolf strength.”
“Oh gosh, sorry! You’d think it’d be hard to forget after years of carrying grocery bags the size of barrels,” I say with a grimace.
“You’re good. Are we still on for tomorrow night?”
“If your grandparents can take care of the kids,” I nod.
“They have to, because je need a break. Whether they can is something else entire–”
Her phone’s ringtone interrupts her. “You best not be calling me because you got your shirt stuck in your zipper again,” she says as she picks up.
I cover my mouth to stop a laugh from escaping as she chides one of her siblings–I’m betting it’s Izzy–and nods into the receiver, rolls her eyes spectacularly, then mumbles a string of Fines and I got its .
“Remind me not to sign up to be the oldest sister in the next life,” she says after closing the call. She rolls off the bed and grabs her light jacket from the floor. “See you tomorrow, and Lila–stop overthinking.”
“No promises,” I say as I wave her goodbye. When I hear the front door close, I turn to look at Blaine, whose head is resting on his front paws. He looks up at me with amber eyes, and I pout at his sheer cuteness. “I love how you just do not care that your mama is a terrifying wolf, but I doubt Cedric will be of the same opinion,” I tell him as one of his ears twitch. I sigh, clinging to the small comfort of what this revelation might mean: if I can feel so much, so strongly for someone, doesn’t it make me more human than anything else?
Blaine makes a somewhat impatient sound, catching my attention. Either he agrees with me, or he’s really hungry.
“How do you feel about pizza?”