9. Chapter Nine Lucy
Chapter Nine: Lucy
I could throttle him.
The audacity to accuse me of overlooking important details just last night, and then he goes and waltzes right through a door without paying attention to the rock that was very obviously keeping it propped open.
He was just like this at camp, too. Glaring at me when I talked too much, but failing to contribute anything of value to the conversation himself. Rolling his eyes while I made friends, yet never bothering to do anything other than cling to the fringes of his group of cabin-mates. He obviously despised everything about me, yet never seemed to be able to demonstrate how I might improve on his wordless critiques.
“Trapped?” he echoes. “Seriously?”
I scoff. “Yes, I know how much you hate being in dark, enclosed spaces with me. Looks like you did it to yourself yet again.”
The words slip out of me before I can reel them back in, slippery and vicious and way too indicative of how hurt I still am. Instantly, I feel like a pathetic idiot. What happened between us on that last night of camp occurred over a decade ago. I haven’t thought about it in ages, but apparently seeing Theo again has reopened old wounds.
I expect Theo to roll his eyes at my response or to laugh sarcastically.
Instead, he stares at me blankly for a long moment. It’s hard to tell by the glow of our respective phone flashlights, but he seems vaguely confused. As if he doesn’t understand my statement.
As if he can’t even remember what I’m referring to.
White-hot embarrassment roars through me. I want to melt into the cement floor and never speak again. Of course he doesn’t remember. Who on earth is ridiculous enough to cling to one random sour memory from their teenage years as if it’s the worst thing that’s ever happened?
It’s definitely not the worst thing that has ever happened to me.
But, still. Even just thinking back on it… I have to suppress a shudder.
Theo clears his throat and takes a subtle step away from me.
“Surely, we can shove the door open if we put enough pressure on it,” he says.
Evidently, he’s decided to pretend that I never said anything at all. Fine. Whatever. It’s probably for the best.
“Nope,” I tell him. “Trust me. It can only be opened from the outside. Uncle Joe’s been meaning to fix it for years. Never got around to it, though, since everyone is used to keeping it open with that big rock when they come down here.”
He shakes his head at my snarky tone.
“And there’s no other way out?”
“There’s another set of stairs that leads up to the kitchen, but that’s locked from the other side, too.”
“Why?” he snaps.
I raise my eyebrows. He purses his lips and looks away.
“Aunt Maudette is here with her four children, all under the age of eight. They’re way too curious for their own good, so we have to close off certain areas of the house for their safety.”
“I know what childproofing is.”
“You literally asked a question, so I gave an answer.”
“Whatever.”
“I can probably pick the lock, though,” I offer. “I’ll need you to shine the light while I do it.”
“Can’t you just text someone to come and open the door?”
I narrow my eyes. Stupidly, I didn’t even think of that, but the last thing I’m going to do is admit that out loud. So, instead of saying anything at all, I unlock my phone and quickly puzzle over who to text for help. Definitely not my dad, because Gigi will filet him if he leaves the grill unmanned. Uncle Joe barely knows how to use his phone, so he won’t be any help. Aunt Carol would make a huge deal out of it and, within minutes, everyone at the party would know that I got stuck in the basement with Theo, and I really don’t want to be associated with him any more than I already am.
Elijah and Josie are off the table. They’re too busy being the beautiful centerpiece of this otherwise flawless event. And, after the way Josie was pestering me about Theo earlier, there’s no way I’m going to give her a reason to think there’s anything going on between us.
“Is something wrong?” he prompts in an impatient tone. “You’re just staring at your phone.”
I glare up at him. “So eager to get back to the party? I know how much you love socializing.”
It’s probably the meanest thing I’ve said to him, at least since we were kids, but Theo merely scoffs and glances around as if an escape tunnel will magically materialize in front of him.
I decide to text Mabel for help. She can be discreet, and she’s already running back and forth between the kitchen and the backyard to help out her mother. Funnily enough, Gigi Lee isn’t even the official caterer of this barbecue. She just insisted on making the dessert menu and providing backup.
“Isn’t there a light down here?” Theo grumbles.
“There is, but the switch is up by the kitchen door. On the other side.”
He sighs heavily. “Alright. Well, can you at least point me in the direction of the charcoal?”
I point back toward the stairs leading outside. “You walked right past it.”
“Oh.” Without another word, he turns and walks away from me.
I stare at his retreating form for a few seconds before muttering a selection of curses under my breath and marching in the opposite direction toward the kitchen stairs, bag of ice in hand. Thanks to him, it’ll be half-melted by the time I get it to the party.
As I stomp up the stairs toward the locked door, my phone buzzes with a reply from Mabel.
No prob. Need a few min tho. Mom’s in full Chefzilla Mode. Something about peaches.
I curse again and text back, I’m about to go full Maidzilla Mode if I don’t get out of here in the next thirty seconds.
Mabel’s reply is quick, but unhelpful. Sorry, hun. Chefzilla is way scarier than Maidzilla.
Resisting the urge to chuck my phone into the shadows, I stomp the rest of the way up the stairs and then sink down onto the top step, leaning my back against the locked door. Chilly condensation drips onto my jumpsuit from the ice, so I shove it aside.
A moment later, Theo’s tall shadow appears at the bottom of the stairs.
“It’s going to be a minute,” I call down to him. “Might as well sit and wait.”
He grunts in acknowledgment and climbs toward me, the rickety wooden stairs creaking under him. I didn’t really mean for him to come and sit up here with me, but it’s too late to tell him to sit down there in the dark by himself. Plus, I’ve already been mean enough. I should probably just keep my mouth shut at this point, lest Maidzilla Mode truly takes over and dampens the vibe of the party.
Theo chooses to pause four steps below me. He hesitates for a moment, as if debating whether or not he truly wants to sit, but then seems to realize how awkward it would be if he kept standing. He sets down the heavy bag of charcoal, then lowers himself to the dusty staircase.
I can hear voices on the other side of the door, but they’re distant enough that I know they’re not coming from the kitchen.
I’m content to wait for Mabel in silence, and I’m certain that Theo would prefer it as well, but then he clears his throat as if he wants to say something and is stalling to choose his words correctly. My stomach drops. Here we go .
“What you said earlier,” he begins, “about dark, enclosed spaces—”
“Forget it,” I interrupt.
“No, I… I mean, it was a long time ago, and—”
“ Exactly , so you can forget that I brought it up in the first place.”
He gives me a stern look. At least, I think he does. We’ve both turned our flashlights off at this point.
“Can’t you let me finish a single sentence, Lucy?”
My stomach flips at the sound of my name on his lips. I don’t know why. It’s probably just totally unrelated anxiety over the fact that I’m involuntarily cut off from the massive party happening outside. I should be out there. It’s literally my job to be out there right now.
“Go on, then,” I grumble at him.
He takes an audible breath. “What happened that night at camp… it wasn’t like I didn’t—I mean, we didn’t…” He exhales sharply, as if it’s a true struggle for him to get the words out. “It’s been a long time since I’ve thought about it, and I guess I didn’t realize that you were so offended that—”
“I’m not so offended ,” I start, but then I realize that I’ve cut him off yet again, so I clamp my lips together.
“My point is,” he continues, his tone difficult to decipher. I wish I could see his expression, but it would be weird if I suddenly shined a light on his face. “It didn’t occur to me that what I did might have hurt your feelings.”
“It’s fine,” I grumble. Unfortunately, I sound more like a petulant child than an unbothered adult.
“Fine or not, my point is that it wasn’t personal.”
I drop my head back against the door. Please, Mabel. Save me…
“Whatever, Theo. It was twelve years ago. It’s not a big deal.”
Never mind that, at the time, it really was a big deal to me. The hugest deal, actually. Which is, admittedly, really annoying and impossible to understand even after all this time.
It’s not as if I liked Theo. I didn’t have feelings for him, not in any way that would make what happened so much worse than it should have been.
“Okay, then,” he says, punctuating the words with a loud sigh. “No big deal. Fine.”
“Fine.”
At that exact moment, the doorknob rattles right over my head. Without warning, the door is yanked open. I tumble backwards onto the kitchen tiles at the same time that Theo shoots to his feet.
For a handful of seconds, everything seems frozen. I’m partially sprawled on the floor. Theo is staring down at me, towering even from his position on the lower step, his mouth slightly agape.
Mabel’s eyes are on him, rather than me. Her lips curve into a frown so fleetingly that I’m not sure I’m seeing correctly, but then her expression grows neutral once more when she glances down at me.
“You okay?” she asks.
“M’fine,” I mumble.
I sit upright and reach for the bag of ice, but I’m blocked by an outstretched hand. Theo’s hand. I stare down at his palm for a long moment before realizing that he’s offering to help me up. For a heartbeat, I consider ignoring the gesture—done purely out of politeness because we currently have an audience—but I’m not confident I can rise to my feet gracefully without assistance in this current position.
Avoiding Theo’s gaze, I slip my hand into his and allow him to haul me up into a standing position. He lifts with unexpected ease, showing off a strength I didn’t realize he had. Not that he’s not muscular. He is. Just not in an obvious way. There’s a leanness to him that suggests he looks after his physique.
Not that I really noticed or whatever.
“Mabel, this is Theo Danvers,” I force myself to say, desperate to pretend that everything is perfectly normal and okay. “Theo, this is Mabel Lee.”
“Nice to—”
Mabel doesn’t allow Theo to finish delivering his pleasantries. She simply gives him one of her sunny smiles and then nods to the bag of charcoal.
“You might want to hurry with that,” she tells him.
He glances at me and, somehow, I know exactly what he wants to say. Clearly, you two girls are good friends, because neither one of you seems capable of letting me finish a sentence .
For some reason, that makes me want to smile. And yet, the thought of smiling at Theo—of smiling at whatever wordless communication just occurred between us—makes me feel weird and vaguely itchy.
“Right,” he mutters. He grabs the charcoal and heads through the kitchen toward the sliding glass doors.
Then, even though there are about a hundred people crawling around Uncle Joe and Aunt Carol’s house, Mabel and I are suddenly alone in the kitchen.
I already know what she’s going to say before she opens her mouth, but that doesn’t stop me from cringing when she lets out a short laugh and goes, “Who was that ?”
Snatching the ice from the floor, I stalk toward the door. “I already told you. Theo Danvers. He’s Elijah’s friend. From college, I’ve been told.”
“And why on earth were you hanging out with him in the basement?”
“I wasn’t hanging out with him. We got stuck because he let the door fall shut.”
“Ah.”
“Yes, ah .”
Mabel easily keeps pace with me as I march across the lawn to deposit the ice in the punch bowl.
“So, that’s it?” she asks.
“What do you mean? Of course that’s it.”
“You two don’t know each other at all?”
I shoot her a glance. “Nope.”
She snorts. “I don’t believe you.”
“That’s your prerogative, Mabel.”
“I’m just saying, he really seemed like he—”
“There you are!” crows Eric, practically appearing out of nowhere. “Got that ice, didn’t you?”
Mabel snickers quietly. This time, it seems, she’s not going to rescue me from being trapped in another conversation with the chattiest man alive. She floats away before I can think of a reason to keep her close.
“Yeah,” I deadpan.
Eric furrows his brow. “Are you okay?”
“Totally.”
“Well, that’s good. Hey, by the way, you’ve got a bit of dirt on your sleeve I think. Here, let me help.”
Before I can insist on helping myself, Eric steps closer and carefully touches the frilly blue sleeve of my jumpsuit. It must have gotten dirty when I spilled out onto the kitchen floor. With a gentle touch, Eric brushes some stray dust and small bits of gravel out of the fluttery layers of my sleeve. He smells nice, at least. And he is handsome. That much is true.
It’s just… I don’t know. I guess whatever attraction I felt to him when I was sixteen is gone now. Or perhaps it was never really there in the first place. Those memories are hazy.
Unfortunately, the memories of what happened with Theo a mere week prior to meeting Eric are still crystal clear. It’s like a curse.
While Eric chivalrously fusses over me, my gaze wanders over his shoulder.
As if my eyes are automatically drawn to him, they land on Theo hovering by the grill. He’s made his charcoal delivery and, instead of retreating to the edges of the crowd like he always used to do at camp, he’s right in the thick of it.
And he’s looking directly at me.
Or rather, he’s looking directly at Eric, who is still leaning suggestively close to me. It’s hard to tell from the distance, but I swear Theo’s mouth tightens with distaste. When he realizes that I’m staring right back at him, he yanks his gaze away and turns to say something to my Aunt Carol. She laughs brightly and pats him on the shoulder affectionately.
Seriously ?
“I think you’ve got it, Eric,” I say, stepping away from him. “Thank you.”
He grins. “No problem, Lucy. By the way, you look especially beautiful today.”
“Thanks. You look nice, too. I’m afraid I don’t have much time to chat right now, though.”
Eric’s lips part, no doubt to offer a protest, but I give him an apologetic smile and step away swiftly. The crowd consumes me like the ocean and I let out a relieved sigh, floating among them like I’m swimming out to sea.
And yet, it’s suddenly a lot more difficult to ignore Theo’s presence nearby.