Chapter 18 James
James
“Hey,” he shouts. “Can I get a little help over here?”
I hear Kenji’s voice before I see him, walking in sideways with groceries. “J said you wanted to learn how to cook, and I
said it was about damn time—”
Kenji sees Nazeera and absorbs the sight of her like a shock wave. He physically glitches, his visibility coming in and out
like a shuddering breath. Groceries loosen in his grip with a rush of sound. A strange look crosses his face, a spasm of pain
so acute it makes me fear the power of the human heart.
He looks at her like he’s lost all peripheral vision.
“Hi,” he says breathlessly.
Nazeera shoots to her feet. “Juliette is sleeping,” she says, answering a question she wasn’t asked. “I was upstairs, earlier.
But I thought I’d give her some space.”
Kenji nods aggressively, like that was a normal thing to say. “Good. Okay.” He drops the groceries to the ground, where they
land with unintentional violence. Something shatters. “That’s nice.”
This is a tragedy.
Nazeera bites her lip, the action drawing attention to her tiny diamond piercing. She used to have more, but she’s phased them out over the last few years. Now she stuffs her hands into her hoodie pocket, looking uncomfortable.
“How—um, how are you?” she asks, searching his face. “I saw you the other day. At the coffee shop? I tried to say hi, but
I think maybe you didn’t see me.”
Kenji just looks at her then.
Pure silence.
Watching this play out is not only painful, it’s making me feel retroactively mortified. If I act anything like this when
I’m around Rosabelle, I can understand why Warner shot me.
Maybe I should shoot Kenji.
Two infinitely long seconds pass before Kenji even notices me sitting here, and the unwelcome sight of my face makes him flinch.
“Yeah, hi,” I say, my smile grim. I try to tell him with my eyes to be cool, to pull himself together—
He shakes his head at me.
I shake my head back harder.
“I have to—” Kenji looks away, searching around himself blindly. “I’m just going to— I’ll be right back—”
And he walks out the house without a word. He doesn’t even close the door behind him.
In his wake, Nazeera sinks down heavily in her seat.
I notice the slight tremble in her hands before she pulls the drawcords of her sweatshirt, tightening the hood around her head like a turtle retracting into its shell.
She tugs her sleeves over her fists before tucking them into the single pocket, and then slowly lowers herself to the table, her eyes pinched as she rests her forehead against the wood.
I can’t take it anymore.
“All right, what the hell is going on with you two?” I ask. “It’s disgustingly obvious you still love each other.”
She startles upright. “What? No it’s not—”
“There’s clearly nothing keeping you apart but your own bullshit. I’ve watched you both suffer for years—”
“It’s not that simple—”
“Nazeera,” I say, irritated. “Enough. You said your piece to me earlier; I’m going to say mine to you now. I want the truth.
Why is it so impossible for you guys to give it another shot?”
She finally relents with a groan, squeezing her eyes shut as she releases the drawcords, pulling the hood away from her face.
“Because,” she says. “I already tried.”
I blink. “What?”
There’s a sudden commotion outside; voices rising. I peer out the window, distracted, but I’m not paying enough attention.
“I already tried,” she says again. “I tried working things out between us. Twice. He won’t take me back.”
Oh.
Shit.
“What?” I say again, dumbfounded.
Voices grow louder in the yard, and I glance again toward the noise, but I can’t focus. I feel like reality is being rewritten
in my head.
“That’s impossible,” I say to her. “He’s obsessed with you.”
“No,” she says, and laughs sadly. “He’s not.”
“Trust me, he’s definitely—”
“You don’t know enough about our history,” she says, cutting me off. “You were so young—”
I look up at another burst of noise, voices carrying, and I crane my neck to peer out the window. When I see that it’s Kenji
and Warner arguing, I relax a little.
Perfectly normal behavior.
Even better, Warner is home early.
“Things are more complicated between us than you think,” Nazeera says, drawing my focus again. “I was— Look, when Kenji and
I first got together I was immature and stupid.” She presses her fists to her eyes. “Never in my life had it occurred to me
to sit down and sort out my issues, because I didn’t even know I had issues. I was used to living in chaos. I was used to
being messed up. I was used to blood and torture and violence. I had no idea I was an emotional idiot.”
Outside, Kenji shouts, “This is a betrayal of trust!”
I frown at the open door, trying not to be distracted by the distant argument. “Okay, that’s fair,” I say, returning my eyes
to Nazeera. “But I think you might be remembering things differently, because Kenji’s never said a single bad thing about
you or your relationship—”
“That’s because he’s such a decent guy,” she says in an aggravated burst. “He’s still protecting me from my own bullshit.”
“What?” Now she has my full attention. “What do you mean?”
“I was a moron when we first met.” She pulls the drawcords of her hoodie again, a turtle back in its shell. “I was smart enough
to recognize that Kenji was amazing, but totally unequipped to be in a healthy relationship. I liked him so much I did everything
wrong.” She hesitates; releases the cords. “Did he ever tell you that I almost killed him by accident?”
“Yeah,” I say slowly. “But I’ve never heard the full story.”
Nazeera laughs, but it’s more of a sigh. “See? Such a nice guy. Kenji probably didn’t want you to hate me.”
I draw back. “Am I about to hate you?”
“I don’t know,” she says, slumping in her seat, sounding resigned. “It’s kind of a long story, but the short version is that
I was trying to keep him safe and I accidentally poisoned him nearly to death.”
I frown. “Okay, not great, but that’s not so—”
“Then, because I felt terrible that I’d poisoned him nearly to death,” she goes on, “I snuck into his room while he was sleeping.
I wanted to check on him to make sure he was okay, but I was too proud to own up to my mistake and do it in broad daylight,
so, instead, I broke into his room in the middle of the night like the worst stalker. Then, when he realized someone was in
the room with him and understandably freaked out, I attacked him. Literally attacked him. I nearly killed him just because
I was so embarrassed he’d find out I was worried about him.”
I exhale, hard. “No shit.”
“Yeah,” she says bitterly. “I’m a real catch. If he were a less competent fighter, I might’ve actually killed him. Did I mention
he was sick? Still recovering from being nearly poisoned to death? By me?”
I raise my eyebrows at her. “Damn.”
She mirrors my eyebrow raise. “You still convinced he’s obsessed with me?”
“Yes.”
She rolls her eyes.
“I will not keep my voice down,” Kenji is shouting in the distance. “This is a criminal offense—”
“Though, to be fair, you probably can’t trust my judgment,” I add. “Rosabelle killed me on purpose and I’d probably let her
do it again if it meant we got to spend some time together.”
Nazeera smiles in spite of herself, then tries to hide it by turning her face to the window. “Idiot.”
“Look, I’m just— Honestly, I’m a little confused,” I say, trying to process all this. “I’ve always thought of you as super
confident. I can’t picture you freaking out like that.”
“Yeah, well, we all have seasons.” She spreads her hands out on the table, staring at her fingers, then curls them into fists.
“I like to think I’m not that person anymore, but I had a lot of growing up to do.
I’ve been trying really hard these past few years to work on myself.
To understand who I am, where I come from, what’s important to me.
But during those early years of our relationship—I was kind of a mess.
” She huffs a laugh. “At one point I was even jealous of Kenji’s relationship with Juliette. ”
I’d been tilting back on the legs of my chair, and I rock forward now with a bang.
“Shut the hell up,” I say. “No the fuck you weren’t.”
“I was,” she says, with a self-conscious shrug.
“Don’t you dare walk away from me,” Kenji is shouting. “We’re not done having this discussion—”
“You do realize,” I point out, “that if Warner sensed for even a second that Kenji was taking advantage of Juliette’s friendship,
he’d cut the man’s heart out of his chest and serve it to him.” I pause. “You know that, right? I’m not exaggerating. He’d
put it on a plate and everything.”
“I already told you,” she says with another shrug. “I was an emotional idiot. I was hotheaded and short-tempered and insecure—and
I wasn’t used to caring about anyone like that.” She hesitates. “I can be really mean when I’m scared, and falling in love
is terrifying.”
“But—”
“Look, James, the truth is, he deserves better than me.” She clasps her hands as her jaw tightens; she keeps her eyes trained
on the window. “I didn’t— I wasn’t always nice to him, and I didn’t appreciate him the way I should have. I was a coward.
I pushed him away. And you and Kenji,” she says, turning her gaze on me, “are so similar. The more I hear about this girl
the more I worry about you.”
I stiffen.
The implication lands in the proceeding silence; the gut punch lands a beat later. “Did you just—did you just trick me into talking about Rosabelle?”
“James, I’m worried she’s going to break your heart—”
“No way.” I push back in my seat, holding up my hands. “Stop. I don’t want to talk about this—”
“I’ve been that kind of girl,” she says in a rush. “I’ve been closed off and messed up and emotionally unavailable—and I don’t
want you to fall in love with the wrong person—”
“You don’t even know her,” I say angrily. “And not that it matters, because you’re totally different people, but for the last
time, I am not in love with her—”
“James—”
“And you don’t actually deserve my compassion right now, but for what it’s worth, I don’t think Kenji fell in love with the
wrong person, either, so—”
“I thought you said you weren’t in love with her.”
I blink, go briefly solid.
I’m caught off guard, trying to review the things I just said out loud, and blanking.
Nazeera bites her lip to kill a smile, but the suppressed laughter in her eyes wipes out the last of my patience.
“All right, you know what?” I say, standing up. “Get the hell out of my house—”
I look up at a sudden blast of sound, reeling as Warner charges angrily through the open front door, then nearly trips over
the groceries left by the entry. He looks up at me automatically, like I had something to do with this mess, and I can tell he’s about say something when Kenji storms in after him.
“Why won’t you just admit it?” he shouts at Warner. “That was my lemon tree! You cut down my lemon tree!”
The subject change is like a shock of cold water.
I’m grateful for it.
Warner pivots to face him, narrowing his eyes. “I didn’t cut it down. You never took care of it—”
“You had no right to touch my tree—”
“I had the right when it died and fell over onto my property,” Warner is saying. “Yet you have the audacity to yell at me
when in fact I did you a favor, removing it for you without even asking you to help—”
“I didn’t want you to remove it! I loved that tree!”
In a distinctly un-Warner move, he finally raises his voice, nearly shouting when he says, “Then why was I the only one who ever watered it?”
Kenji’s mouth gapes open a moment, then closes. Then opens again. “Wait, what? What are you talking about?”
Warner exhales slowly, looking like he might be working his way through an aneurysm.
“Kenji,” he says slowly, like he’s talking to a full-time idiot. “Did you think the tree was growing magically, all by itself?”
Kenji hesitates, like he knows he’s about to give the wrong answer, and gives it anyway. “I mean, it’s a tree,” he says. “Trees
just grow. Like, on the planet. People don’t need to go around watering them.”
“Bro,” I say, making a face. “Come on.”
“What?” His eyes widen. “I’ve had that tree for years. It was getting sicker over the past few months, but I thought the rain would help, and Winston said—”
“I’ve been trying to explain to you,” Warner says, “that it was getting sicker because I stopped watering it. The heavy winds from the storm knocked it over, and I—” He takes a step forward and his boot catches on a bag
of groceries. “And why was this door wide open? Who left all these groceries here? Is that broken glass?” Then, looking beyond my head: “Why is the kitchen such a mess?”
“Oh, shit,” Nazeera whispers. “I think we’re about to get grounded.”
“You know what, never mind,” says Kenji, who’s now looking nervously between Nazeera and Warner. “Maybe I should go.”
“Don’t you dare—”
A shrill ring echoes through the room, and everyone swivels toward the sound. Nazeera glances at her pager before lifting
it in the air. “Juliette is awake.”
“Thank God,” says Kenji, toeing off his shoes before heading hastily for the stairs.
“Hey.” Warner goes after him. “That’s my wife—”
Kenji turns back, his eyes widening in surprise. “What? Really? When did you get married?”
Warner shoves past him with a glare, his voice muffling as he heads up the stairwell. “I’m going to tell her what you did—”
“Me?” he says, staring at Warner’s back in outrage. “You’re the one who killed my tree!”
“Man, I miss this so much when I’m gone,” Nazeera says, propping her chin up in one hand. Her eyes linger on Kenji as he stomps up the stairs.
I look at her, watch her take a breath.
Her eyes grow heavy with a longing I recognize too well, and she forces a smile before getting to her feet.
Nazeera turns to look at me.
“You know I love you, right?” she says. “Like, it causes me actual pain to think about how much I love you?”
“Yeah,” I say tightly. “I do.”
“Good.” She nods. “Just checking.”
She moves to leave and I place my hand on her shoulder, stopping her. She lifts her head again slowly.
“Hey,” I say. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” she says, but her eyes glint, briefly, before she turns away. She takes a breath. “I’m okay. I’m just thinking it
might finally be time to buy a couch.”