41. Seraphina
41
Seraphina
“If you look at your phone one more time, I swear that I’m going to throw it in the oven and turn it on broil,” Olivia grumbles beside me.
I roll my eyes at her words, though I can’t disagree with her and how frequently I’ve been checking my phone since Lincoln left my bed this morning. I don’t necessarily like this version of myself, the one who is glued to her screen hoping for a message from a boy, but I also know that to deny myself this small level of control is fruitless. And by control, I mean the constant eyes on every notification that comes in so that I’m neither surprised nor disappointed.
I know it’s irrational.
I know it’s annoying.
I also know that I’m going to keep doing it until I’m forcibly stopped or the novelty of Lincoln’s attention wears off.
“I’m not that bad,” I lie, biting down on my lip as I mutter the words.
Olivia scoffs and pushes her chair out, rising from the kitchen table. “You are exactly that bad. Bianca, back me up on this?”
“Yeah, you’re annoying,” my sister calls out as she plays on her phone, eyes never leaving her screen.
“Pot, meet kettle.”
B’s middle finger responds to my annoyance.
“That’s it.” Dishes clatter in the sink, and my head whips toward the kitchen in time to see Olivia cross her arms and lean against the counter. “All of our phones are turning off for the rest of the night.”
“Liv—”
“Absolutely not, Olivia.”
Bianca and I respond at the same time, but Olivia shakes her head, doubling down. “I missed out on a double shift tonight, and I’ll be damned if I lost cash to watch the two of you sit here on your phones all night. So turn them off and give them to me.” She holds out her hand, emphasizing her words. “I’ll give them back when we go to bed, but if we’re having a girls’ night, then by god, we’re going to have a girls’ night, and I will not be subjected to the annoying tapping of Bianca’s acrylic nails on the glass.”
Sighing, I put my phone down on the kitchen table. “Not to sound like I’m obsessed with my phone, but if someone needs us, or if there’s an emergency, they won’t be able to get in touch with us.”
“You’re making excuses. Whatever it is can wait for three hours while we watch A Nightmare on Elm Street marathon.”
I grimace at Olivia’s movie choice. “I get that you love horror, but do we really have to watch Tracy return to her childhood house?” I hate that scene in the 1991 film, not least of all because the psychological warfare is more chilling than the actual blood and guts that accompany slasher films.
“We’re not watching Freddy’s Dead . We’re going to do the original, and if you two are still awake, we’ll move on to Freddy vs. Jason for some comedic relief before we go to sleep.”
“A horror movie for some light viewing,” Bianca mumbles, throwing her phone at Olivia from across the room. “Ser, why couldn’t you make a normal friend?”
Olivia catches the device mid-air and tucks it into her pocket before looking at me expectantly. “You. Phone. Now.”
“Fine.” I roll my eyes and stand up to walk over to her. Unlike Bianca, who seems to be unbothered by the prospect of her phone shattering on the floor, I’m not willing to take that chance. Stopping in front of Olivia, I power down my phone, belatedly wondering if I should warn Lincoln or my parents that I’m turning it off. “Here.”
“Thank you very much,” Olivia quips, putting the phone in her other pocket. “Face masks?”
“If you’re going to deny me a distraction from the bullshit you’re about to force on us, then you absolutely will be giving me a face mask and a fat glass of wine,” Bianca calls out, walking into her room to get ready for our girls’ night.
—
“Olivia, was there avocado in that mask you made?”
“Yes, why?” Olivia responds to my sister, eyes glued to the scene as Freddy pulls Glenn out of bed.
“Because I’m allergic to avocado. Dammit, Olivia, you know this.” My sister pushes the blanket from her lap, standing up and blocking the TV as she does.
“Move out of the way, Bianca. It’s getting to the good part.”
“You mean the part where there’s more blood? Oh no. How could we ever miss that?” Screams from the movie echo in the small living room. Bianca moves out of the way just in time for blood to shoot up from the center of the bed on the screen.
Glenn’s mom opens the door, screaming at the flood of blood.
Our front door opens at the same time, and there’s no containing the screams that erupt out of our mouths.
“Go away, you demon!” Bianca shouts, picking up a throw pillow and hurling it at the intruder.
“Oh my god!” yells back at us, the pillow landing and hitting them in the head. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Ava?” I choke out, my heart beating in time to the suspenseful music playing in the movie. “What are you doing here?” My voice is breathy, and I’m surprised that I’m able to push the words out of my mouth.
“I told Lincoln he was overreacting,” Ava mumbles, flicking on the light to reveal the room, our face masks, and the amused presence of Greyson right behind Ava. “Lincoln called when he got off work because you hadn’t responded to his texts, and he was worried. He and Rafe are on their way because they assumed the worst.”
Beside me, I feel Olivia stiffen before she lets out a long sigh. “Oh, for fuck’s sake.”
“Oh, no, you don’t.” B waves her finger at Olivia. “You demanded we turn off our phones, and then you confiscated them like we’re inmates in a jail. If our brother shows up at our apartment because of this, it’s on you.”
Olivia huffs and picks up a throw pillow, tossing it at Bianca the same way one was lobbed at Ava moments ago.
“Hey, you two, stop throwing shit. What I want to know is why I wasn’t invited to this little spa and horror fest?”
“You were. Remember when I texted you last week?” Bianca hedges. “You said you thought you had a private dinner party and would let me know, but then you never got back to me.”
“Oh.” I watch as the annoyance fades from my older sister’s face, replaced by a dawning sense of realization. “Shit. I completely forgot about that. Lincoln is going to have a heart attack for no reason.”
I find mild amusement in the exchange until I realize the full extent of what Ava just said. “Wait, Lincoln’s coming?”
“No, cierń. I’m already here.” Lincoln’s voice rings out from behind Ava and Grey before he steps past both of them and enters the apartment. “You look good in green.”
I cringe—both inwardly and outwardly—at his acknowledgment of my face mask. “Shut up, Lincoln.”
He hums at my rebuke but otherwise ignores it. “There a reason why all of your phones were off?”
“Yeah, Liv, is there a reason why our phones are off?”
“Fuck off, Bianca. If you and Seraphina weren’t so obsessed with checking and typing away on your phones all damn day, I wouldn’t have demanded it.”
“See, I think you needed to use it as an excuse to disconnect. There someone you’re trying to ignore, Livvy Poo?”
From my spot beside Olivia, I can see her fists clench before she releases them. “Call me Livvy Poo again, and I’ll put Nair in your expensive shampoo.”
“You’re an evil woman, Olivia.”
“You don’t know the half of it,” Olivia mumbles, though I don’t think anyone is supposed to hear it.
I clear my throat, interrupting the tension that’s started to fall. “Okay. Bianca, go wash your face first before the avocado gives you hives. Would you all come inside? Our neighbors are going to think we’re under attack with the door open.” Surprisingly, Bianca follows my order, though not without providing a parting huff of annoyance before she disappears into our shared bathroom.
Olivia kicks her blanket off and stomps into her room, no doubt going to her en suite bathroom to wash her face mask off, leaving me the only green-faced person in the room. Lincoln walks over to me, a peculiar look on his face.
“Cierń, I want to kiss you so fucking bad right now, but what is on your face?”
“It’s avocado, honey, and oats,” I grumble, shrinking back from his gaze.
He snorts at my explanation. “You look like guacamole.”
“Bianca, hurry up!” I call over my shoulder, ripping my gaze from Lincoln.
As if on cue, the bathroom door opens, and Bianca walks out, clean—albeit irritated—faced. “I’m done. Calm down. And tell Olivia that I’m going to kill her.”
“Tell her yourself.” I spin around and storm into the bathroom to wipe the green mask from my face.
I turn the water to full pressure and let the steady flow drown out the conversation beyond the closed door. Bending down, I cup water in my palms and splash my face, letting the warm water start to loosen the dried-on mask. Flecks of green fall into the basin, and I grab the clean washcloth Bianca left out to wipe the remaining mask off my face.
“Okay then,” I murmur once no more green is evident on my skin. Drying off the splashed water on the vanity, I look at myself in the mirror one last time before shutting off the light and walking out to the living room.
I’m not surprised to find Ava and Grey curled on the loveseat, seemingly ready to join in on our movie marathon, nor am I surprised by Lincoln’s body reclined on the far end of the couch or Bianca on the opposite end.
What I am surprised about, however, is that Rafe is perched on one of the kitchen chairs with a stormy look on his face.
“Rafe? What are you doing here?”
Rafe scoffs, taking the opportunity to lean forward and plant his elbows on his upper thighs. “Of all the stupid shit the three of you have done, I swear to God, this is the worst.”
Olivia storms out of her bedroom as he speaks, slamming the door behind her and concealing her space. “Shut up, Rafael. We were watching a movie. There’s nothing stupid about that.”
Rafe turns his head slowly, face set in a scowl. “I was referring to my sisters, Olivia. You.” He turns his head and points at Ava. “How the fuck did you forget you were invited here tonight, explicitly for a movie night? You could have saved us a trip and a heart attack. And you two, who the fuck turns off their phone when they know that the police or their families could try and get in touch with them at any minute? Sera, I’m surprised at you. You normally don’t listen to Bianca’s stupid ideas.”
“Hey! It was Olivia who suggested—”
“Stop,” I cut off Bianca, silencing her confession. “There’s no need for name-calling, Rafe. I get it. You were all worried, and I’m sorry for that. But we’re fine. So can we just, I don’t know, eat some popcorn, watch a horribly edited movie, and bask in the gore on the screen for another hour without being assholes?” I stare at my brother, still adorned in his police uniform, and raise a brow.
“Fine,” he comments through clenched teeth.
“Olivia?”
“Fine. But no talking,” she orders, stomping to the seat between Lincoln and Bianca. I look around the room, furrowing my brow when I realize the only place to sit is on the floor or to pull one of the kitchen chairs out into the living room.
Sensing my dilemma, Lincoln clears his throat and raises a brow. “Come here, cierń.”
I shake my head. “There’s no room next to you.”
Lincoln widens his legs and stares into my eyes. “Come here, cierń,” he repeats.
I repeat my actions, shaking my head in feigned denial. My feet contradict the motion of my head, however, and I cross the room, stopping only once my feet are in front of Lincoln. His hands reach out, not giving me a second to consider how I’ll situate myself, and clasp my waist, lifting me with an ease that shouldn’t surprise me but does.
He settles my back against the arm of the couch and pulls the right side of my body against his chest. “That’s better, Seraphina,” he murmurs into my ear, biting down lightly on my lobe.
I squirm against him at the contact, nearly breathless, as I try to put distance between us. “Lincoln.”
His hold tightens, pressing me more firmly against his body while my legs dangle over his thighs. “Seraphina,” he mimics my tone.
“Will both of you be quiet or go to her room?”
I bite down on my lip at Liv’s reproach, sinking into Lincoln’s body as he shakes his head at my best friend. Reaching down, I pinch his thigh to bring his attention back to me. “Be quiet,” I mouth when his eyes settle on my face, earning me an eye roll and his hand flexing against where it rests on my outer thigh.
Despite his display, his eyes stay on the screen in front of us just in time for Freddy to be dragged out of the dream realm and into the real world. I keep my eyes focused on the movie, but every part of my body is aware of Lincoln—from his thighs beneath mine to his breath on my neck, I am enveloped by him. It’s like feeling safe, yet a trickle of danger seeps in, adrenaline and spice in an otherwise innocuous situation. It’s heady and all-encompassing, and I’d be a fool not to enjoy this very normal moment, watching a movie with my best friend and family while the boy who’s resurrected me cocoons me in his warmth.
I let my body relax, falling further into him while fire erupts in front of us.