Chapter Seventeen
Emerson
I go back home after dropping off Jamie’s lunch, lips still tingling, and start working on dinner.
Jamie hasn’t texted me what he wants yet, but I decide to go all out—I’ve been keeping weird hours this week and I do want him and Nick to know that I appreciate them giving me my space and not making a big deal of me not being around.
After the date with Patch on Monday, I really did go for a walk. I needed to think about the fact that Patch and Jamie basically exist in the same breath for me. I don’t know why that is.
I shake my head and grab tomatoes out of the fridge. We can freeze soup, and tomato should go with whatever the main dish ends up being. I set my phone on the side and decide, on impulse, to call Cate just before I get to chopping.
To my surprise, she answers on the first ring. I tried calling her after the date on Monday, but to no avail, and then I was out late that night and last night trying to catch sight of a werewolf.
“Em? You’d better not be fucking dead.”
“I’d have a hard time ringing if I were,” I reply. I chop slowly; no need to rush. “I thought you weren’t talking to me.”
“Like your rude arse wouldn’t haunt me. I tried calling you back on Monday, but it didn’t go through. Guess we’ve been missing each other.”
“I’m sorry I left so quickly.”
Cate snorts. “No, you’re not. And I’m not sorry I yelled about it, for the record. It’s shitty of you to ask me for advice and then completely ignore it without telling me.”
“I know.”
“Good. So we’re clear. And it’s shitty of me to give you the silent treatment too, so I guess we’re both the worst.”
I think back to the kiss with Jamie earlier. My hands tremble and I put down the knife. “Maybe you’re right.”
Cate’s quiet for a moment, but genuine concern colours her voice when she asks, “Em? What’s going on? You’re not in trouble, are you?”
“No, nothing like that.”
“What is it, then? I will come down there, you know. I’m already checking your location on maps.”
“Jesus, I’m not—I think I’m falling for two people, okay?”
“People?”
“Men. Obviously.”
I roll my eyes when Cate laughs. She sobers quickly, though, and I hear a door close. She’s probably at work, though hopefully on her lunch break. I don’t want to interrupt.
“Two of them? And so quickly? Would’ve thought you’d have outgrown that phase in university.”
“Like I ever went through that phase,” I mutter. “I really think I might be fucking up here.”
“How so?”
“I went on a date with one of them on Monday.”
“What’s his name?”
“Cate.”
“Well, unfortunately, you’re going to be using the same pronoun a lot, so a name is really going to help me out here, Em.”
She’s right. Annoyingly. And I could give her fake names, but what’s the point of that? We’ve both dealt with enough relationship problems throughout the years of our friendship. She’ll take this seriously. “Patch. I went on a date with Patch on Monday.”
“How was it?”
“Amazing.”
“And what about your other guy?”
“Jamie. I—” I swallow. “I live with him.”
“Em!” Cate groans. “You know that’s a bad idea.”
“Hence the call.”
“That’s why you called?”
“Well, no, obviously also to—”
“I’m fucking with you, okay? Get with the details.”
I pick up the knife again and fill her in on everything that’s happened over the past couple of weeks—meeting Jamie, meeting Patch at the pub, searching for the werewolf, which she seems far less interested in than the rest of it, though I get her point, and then finally get to the kiss with Jamie today.
“You kissed him back?”
“I couldn’t help it!”
“Emerson.”
“Okay, fine. I didn’t want to help it. And I’m sure there’s something going on with him and Patch anyway, you know? I just don’t—I don’t know how it all fits together.”
“It’s not about how. It’s whether they even want it to.”
I sigh and set a pan on the stove. “Yeah, you’re right.”
“You might all have to sit down and actually talk about this, you know.”
“I know.”
“You wanna do that?”
“Not in the slightest.”
Cate laughs again. “Fair enough. But you’re going to have to come to some solution because it sounds like otherwise, you’re all going to be miserable.”
“Where are you getting that?”
“Between the lines, Em,” Cate says patiently. “Making soup?”
“Y-yeah. How’d you know?”
“You always make soup when you’re trying to figure stuff out.”
“Soup, specifically?”
“Yeah, I never got it either. You never noticed?”
I lift the chopping board and pause as a thought occurs to me. “Mum always used to make it. When we were sick. Sad. Whatever. I guess I picked it up without noticing.”
Cate’s quiet for a minute. She knew my mum too, though only for a few years before Mum got too sick for us to have visitors and then…
Well. Then she died. I was ten.
“They’ll love it, Em,” Cate says, and I set the chopping board down again.
“Hope so. I’ll freeze the leftovers. You can have some when you come to visit.”
“Oh, I’m coming there, am I?”
“I figure with all the potential for drama in my life that you’ll be on the next train down.”
“Prick,” Cate mutters, but the laugh is back in her voice. “Sadly for you, I’ve got plans this weekend, but I’ll let you know when I can come to visit, okay? Don’t go making any rash decisions in the meantime. I know what you’re like when I leave you alone.”
“I won’t.”
“Em, seriously.”
“What?”
“No major life decisions after ten at night. Remember?”
I roll my eyes, even though she can’t see me. I remember. It’s something we decided when we were teens, despite the fact that we were sneaking out after ten all the time to go find whatever magical or mythical creatures might be hiding in the darkness.
“I remember. I’ll text you if I make any.”
“Don’t you dare!”
“Bye, Cate! Love you.”
“Love you too, I guess,” she replies but laughs again when she hangs up.
I turn back to the soup and let out one last heavy sigh. No major life decisions. Sure. That’ll end well.
Jamie texts, asking for bangers and mash, which means nipping to the shop to pick up sausages before either of them gets home, but I quite like the short escape.
I grab a cake while I’m there, too, just a chocolate sponge because then we can have dessert if we want it, or save it for another day if we don’t.
Both Jamie and Nick seem astounded by the dinner I serve them.
The soup goes down well, which warms me about as much as the kiss Jamie and I shared earlier, to my own surprise.
Jamie offers to cut up the cake, and once we’ve all finished eating, bellies full, Nick takes over cleaning up, though I’ve been careful to wash up as I go for the most part.
“God, that was amazing,” Jamie says with a groan. He sprawls out on the sofa, apparently boneless and comfortable. “Want to quit your job? Nick and I will find a way to pay you to cook for us all the time.”
I laugh. “I’d get bored with it after too long,” I admit. “It’s nice to go all out once in a while.”
“You should meet Drew,” Jamie says, then sits up straight like he shouldn’t have said that.
“Drew?”
“He’s, uh… A friend. One of Vince and Dax’s friends, I mean. He works at this café, loves to bake. I went over there for dinner on Sunday.”
“You’ve got a lot of friends here, huh?”
Jamie nods. “Yeah, I do.”
I glance at the door. I can hear Nick moving things around in the kitchen, which means he can probably hear us.
“And if you…?”
“I’m good at making friends, Em,” Jamie says with a smile. “It’ll all be fine.”
Do I believe that? That he’s good at making friends, for certain. That it will be fine?
Yes, it will. Of course it will. And knowing him for a couple of weeks gives me precisely no claim on him or his life, even in spite of that kiss earlier today.
I still feel like I can faintly taste him.
If Jamie feels the strange, sudden tension, he doesn’t comment on it.
He smiles at me again instead, looking utterly content, and pride beats against my ribs, knowing I put that look on his face.
When he switches the TV on, I settle more comfortably in my chair, and then Nick joins us, the three of us hardly speaking as we let the thing play.
I head off to bed when they both do, though I don’t change or get ready to sleep. I check my bag instead and wait until about one in the morning, until I’m sure they’re truly asleep.
Then I grab my bag and sneak out into the night.
I’m not overly worried if they find out I’ve been going out, of course.
A night-time walk isn’t such an unusual thing, and they were right about this area—it’s very safe.
Just better to avoid flagging up any weirdness where possible.
I pull a small camera out of my bag and clip it to the front of my jacket.
The park is as silent as it has been every night I’ve visited.
Whoever the man in the video is, he hasn’t been back; at least not since I arrived in London.
I wander the area for an hour or so, then find, to my surprise, that my feet are leading me to the place where Patch and I parted on Monday night.
Patch. I will tell him what happened between me and Jamie and make it clear that Jamie isn’t at fault.
Make it clear I kissed him back, too. Nerves flutter in my stomach.
I don’t know how he’ll take it. We’re not anything serious, not after one date where we didn’t even kiss, but if he thinks I’ve crossed a line…
He’s not wrong. Maybe. Part of me wonders if he’ll be mad at all. I think he wants Jamie just as much as Jamie clearly wants him, and I can’t quite work out why the two of them aren’t together, considering they met long before I arrived.
And how long will I be here? A year, tops. If I can’t find the werewolf at that point, I think I’ll go home, fifty grand or not. It’s not like that kind of money is nothing, but I don’t belong here. Do I?
I pause on the corner where Patch walked away. I wouldn’t be able to find him even if I did go looking. I don’t know where he lives. How would I explain my sudden appearance if I did? Two in the morning is not the time to talk about things like this.
No major life decisions after ten at night.
I chuckle and turn on my heel. Cate’s right. I’ll have a clearer head in the morning, and that’s when I’ll decide whether to meet up with Patch early and let the cat out of the bag or wait until Monday and deal with it then.
Only as I walk away, I feel the prickle of eyes on my back. I don’t freeze, but I do slow my steps, glancing left to right, trying to see if anyone is hiding in the shadows.
Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had to run away, though usually just from over-curious farm animals.
I see no one, though, so I stop and chance a look back and—
Freeze.
At first, I can’t believe my eyes. No dog is that big. Foxes certainly aren’t. And the animal, the wolf, is standing there, staring at me like it expects something…
A choked sound escapes my throat. My heart thuds against my ribs. The wolf whines and steps closer, and for a second, I’d swear I’ve seen it before, even as I’m certain it’s not the one from the video, like it’s an animal I’ve met—
The second passes. I let out a terrified squeak, one I’ll certainly be embarrassed about later, and though I know better, I run.
I only stop once I’m back at our front door. My breaths saw in and out of my throat, and sweat is dripping from my hairline, down my back. The wolf hasn’t followed me. I don’t know why. Perhaps I didn’t see it at all.
My hands are shaking too badly to check the footage once I’m safely in my room. I climb into bed, close my eyes, and wait for daylight to come.