4. Alice
Chapter 4
Alice
I sit at the cozy kitchen table, eating breakfast. I can’t help but smile, relishing the warm morning light against my skin as it streams through the open window of my new apartment.
Right before I left Fable Forest, Verity helped me find a place—an apartment above The Cartographorium owned by old Mr. Penumbra that smells like ink, cedarwood, and a little bit of ghost. It’s small, sunny, and surprisingly affordable for a town where enchanted houseplants have unionized. The studio space gets brilliant morning light, and Mr. Penumbra said I could paint on the walls“as long as the walls don’t start talking back.”So far, only one has. Politely .
And the main thing? It’s mine, paid for with years of saving an allowance I never seemed to spend. I’m still getting used to the idea of being independent. I had my doubts about “running away from home,” but now I know I made the right choice.
As I reach for my coffee, the mugslides across the table on its own, narrowly missing the edge before settling unnaturally still.
I freeze, staring at it. “Okay,” I mutter. “That was new.”
I reach again, more cautiously this time, and as my fingers brush the ceramic,the spoon inside the mug starts spinning wildly .
“Not now,” I plead under my breath.
The spoon slows… only tofly out of the cup and land on my toastwith a wet splat.
I groan. “This is why I can’t have nice things.” I glare at my hands as if they’re responsible. “Maybe I should start wearing gloves.”
With a sigh, I wipe up the mess. The weird woo-woo shit going on with me seems to have worsened since I stepped foot in Screaming Woods .
Still, I can’t deny that the best perk of moving here comes in the form of one irresistibly handsome gorgon.
Last night replays in my head like a catchy tune. Gordy. The dinner at that quirky little restaurant on Nightjar Row, nestled between the bakery, Conjure and Crumb , and the flower shop, Bloom and Bane. I can still taste the hint of garlic from the pasta on my tongue, the restaurant’s second attempt at making our dishes because of a little… mishap. And Gordy, with his shy smile that reached those hypnotic green eyes, when I dared to glance.
“Al, stop grinning like an idiot,” I mutter, but there’s no stopping the flutter in my chest when I think about him asking me out again. He’s unlike anyone I’ve met, and I’m pretty sure he feels the same spark, or at least, I hope so.
The apartment is quiet, save for the occasional creaks and groans of the old building settling into its foundations. I’m alone, but my mind is crowded with memories of last night. We laughed a lot, mostly at the absurdity of life in a town where humans and monsters are trying to figure out cohabitation etiquette.
The sun is shining today, so I’m wearing another maxi dress, this one a light shade of blue. Slipping on my favorite jacket over the top, the one that matches my hair perfectly, I check my reflection in the mirror. Gordy might be reserved and cautious with his affections, but I can tell he’s interested. And those snakes of his? Well, they’ll have to learn to like me, too. I mean, if Gideon’s snakes can learn to ignore me and the many puns I send his way, anyone’s can, right?
With a last look around my apartment, a sense of contentment washes over me. Screaming Woods is growing on me, and so is the enigmatic gorgon who runs the local bookstore. Who knows what will happen? But I’m eager to find out.
As I walk, I remember our meal at The Howling Crust . I was so excited, sitting across from Gordy, and all I could think about was how his smile lit up the dim corner of the restaurant like a lighthouse in a storm. He has a magnetism about him, even with the constant hiss of the snakes that crown his head. But it’s not only the snakes, it’s the way he talks about books, the passion in his voice when he describes his favorite scenes. I didn’t even mind when he accidentally turned our server into a statue. It was only a glance, so hopefully, he wasn’t frozen for too long.
I push open the door of The Sibilant Shelf Bookstore , smiling at the tinkle of the bell. The place is quiet, except for the soft rustling that I now know comes from his hair, those restless snakes.
“Morning, Al,” he calls from behind a stack of books without looking up, his voice inviting.
“Hi, Gordy,” I say, edging closer but making sure to keep my gaze on the spines of nearby books. “About last night…”
“Say no more,” he interrupts with a little chuckle, and I can tell he’s smiling even though I can’t see his face. “I’ve heard from the restaurant, and the server came back to life last night. Eventually. They’ve given him a few days off to recover.”
“I’m so glad to hear that. I did worry about him,” I admit, my cheeks heating. The snakes hiss and writhe on top of his head as I step in his direction. “ Your snakes seem to have a mind of their own, as usual.”
“Ah, they’re just overprotective,” he says, finally glancing up through a curtain of serpents that shy away at the movement. “And a bit cheeky.”
“I’m not sure I’d call them cheeky,” I reply, suppressing a smile. I lean against the counter, trying to appear casual while my heart somersaults. “They’re fascinating, though.”
“Careful,” Gordy warns playfully. “Compliments will get you everywhere with them.”
“Oh, is that so?” I tease, daring a glance at his hair, where I swear one snake winks at me—if snakes could wink. “Maybe they’ll warm up to me then.”
“Maybe.”
“You know, last night…” I begin again, this time more determined. “I enjoyed our time together, despite the… incident.”
“Me, too, Al,” he says earnestly. “It was one for the books, literally.”
“Would you want to try again? Maybe somewhere less public?” I suggest, holding my breath .
“Absolutely,” he replies.
I exhale, relief flooding through me. “My place is safe. No chance of turning innocent bystanders into artwork.”
Gordy stiffens as I watch him. I think he’s blushing, but it’s hard to tell with his green-toned skin. He clears his throat, shifting around on his feet before he turns to me. “Al, I’m sorry you had to see that. The waiter thing, I mean.” He still avoids direct eye contact. “Some gorgons struggle with their stare. I happen to be one of the unlucky ones, probably because I wasn’t born a gorgon.”
“Hey, if it’s any consolation, I’ve been known to drive people away with my puns alone.” I smile, hoping to lighten the mood.
“Is that your superpower?” He half-smiles, finally meeting my gaze for a fleeting second before looking down again.
“It seems like it,” I reply playfully. “But no, like I said last night, I amplify other people’s powers. Or dampen them. I have no control over it.”
“Oh, I thought you were kidding about that,” Gordy replies, quickly looking me over. The way he smiles tells me he likes my dress. Or me, maybe?
Now I’m the one smiling.
“No, I wasn’t kidding.” I finally reply, inhaling deeply before releasing my breath in a whoosh. “I wish I was.”
The air between us fills with unspoken words, a dance of glances and shy smiles. I wander to a section of the shop where paintings and art books are displayed. My fingers trace the spines, and I feel Gordy’s presence behind me, close but not touching.
“I love this one,” I murmur, pointing to a book on Renaissance art.
“Da Vinci or Michelangelo?” His voice is right by my ear.
I fight back a shiver. “Michelangelo. There’s something raw about his work.”
“Raw and passionate,” he agrees, his breath warm against my skin. “Much like this thing we’re doing here. ”
“Trying to have a conversation without turning each other into lawn ornaments or bringing on the Apocalypse?” I tease, turning to face him. Our eyes meet, and he doesn’t look away immediately this time.
“Exactly.” His lips curve into a genuine smile, and it feels like a victory.
“Could be worse,” I admit, stepping back to give us some breathing room. “We could be discussing the weather.”
“True. But then we’d miss out on all the fun parts, like bonding over our love for art and avoiding petrification.”
“Can’t have that.” I laugh, feeling the tension ease away. It’s strange, this dance we’re doing, but I can’t help wanting more steps, more time to figure out the rhythm.
“Art and literature,” he says, more confidently now. “Those are safe topics, right?”
“Absolutely.” I nod, smiling wider. “And there’s plenty to talk about. ”
“Plenty,” he echoes, and I see a spark of mischief in his eyes, brief but unmistakable.
“We make quite the pair, don’t we?”
“Like a tragic comedy.” The corners of his mouth tilt upward. “Without the tragedy, hopefully.”
I glimpse his hypnotic green eyes and step closer, irrevocably drawn to him. The winking snake from before tilts its head, studying me .
“What?” I ask, studying its beady little eyes.
The snakeflicks its tongue, then lightly taps my nose.
I blink. “Uh. Did I just pass some kind of test?”
Gordy hums in thought. “They don’t usually let people get this close.”
Alice smirks. “So what you’re saying is, they like me .”
The snakewraps around Gordy’s ear and hisses pointedly.
Gordy sighs. “This one likes you. The others are still suspicious. ”
I smirk. “Let me guess—I’ve rattled them.”
Gordy stares at me.
“Rattled. Get it?”
He raises an eyebrow. “Was that one of those puns you were talking about earlier?”
“Oh, absolutely. And I’ve got tons more where that came from.”
“Of course you do.” Gordy chuckles and shakes his head. He casts a glance upward, and I catch the sparkle in his eye before he focuses on a point somewhere over my shoulder. “So, about dinner. How about tacos? I thought we’d keep it simple. No risk of… incidents.”
“Simple sounds perfect,” I say, trying to sound nonchalant even though my insides are doing somersaults.