Chapter 10
Daphne takes a long slurp of her pumpkin spice latte and gives me a critical look. “And you’re sure it wasn’t a date?”
Chloe leans closer across our table, pushing her designer glasses up her ski-slope nose. I’m honored to be not just included but central to this little before-school meetup in Costa. Plus, Daphne’s added me to a group chat, which is a definite step in the right direction.
“Maybe he was nervous?” Chloe suggests. “And didn’t know how to kick this Max guy out without being rude?”
“Maybe…”
“And he hugged you at the end, and saw you to the door,” Nikita says. She pats her hair with marbled pink-and-gold nails, her natural chestnut curls smoothed and slicked into a pin-straight ponytail today.
“And he sat on the bed with you, too!” Daphne adds.
Today, she wears various tones of beige and cream that complement her fair skin and deep brown eyes.
Her jewelry is artfully mismatched silvers and golds that look like she just threw the look together; I’d have agonized over it for hours.
“I reckon you’re totally in. It’s just…slow burn, that’s all.
I wouldn’t worry about it yet, if I were you—it all adds up to him being nervous, like Chloe said.
You said he’s never been in a relationship before, plus you’re really good friends, so he’ll be extra worried about damaging your friendship by making the wrong move. ”
“So what do I do? It’s turned into this regular group hang now, which was so not the plan, but I don’t know how to get out of it…”
It feels so good to have some people to turn to for advice about this, people who are external to my friendship with Jake.
Evie couldn’t join us this morning, but I’m starting to think that if I just asked her to keep this a secret, she wouldn’t gossip to any mutual friends.
And chatting about this Jake romance drama, however one-sided it might be at the moment, feels like I’m really solidifying my place in this group. It’s giving us something to bond over.
I haven’t even had to mention all the OWAR stuff! A total bonus.
A split second later, I realize that even thinking about OWAR has jinxed it.
As the girls start workshopping ways that I might be able to see more of Jake without Max, or how I might be able to up the ante by flirting over text more obviously if he’s not picking up any of the hints I’ve dropped so far, the door opens.
I’m facing it, so my eyes are automatically drawn to who walks in.
It’s Anissa, from my old school and my art class, who looked too long at my Téiglin-inspired sketch. She’s wearing a long, checkered shirt under a boxy bomber jacket paired with purple leggings, and pieces of uneven brown hair fall around her face where the rest of it is pulled up in a messy bun.
Nikita notices me looking, and cuts herself off mid-sentence to whisper to us, “Oh my God, have you guys met her yet? She’s such a weirdo.
Dead quiet, and I don’t think she’s got any friends—although I’m not sure she wants any.
It’s not like I’ve seen her make any effort to chat with people.
She’s in my French class. She’s got history with us too, hasn’t she, Cerys? ”
Daphne’s eyes widen as she glances over and recognizes her. “Evie told me about her! Apparently she’s like…a witch.”
I’ve heard those rumors too; and right now, I notice the silver dagger-shaped earring dangling from one of Anissa’s ears, visible with her choppy hairdo. It’s arguably the least out-there of anything I’ve seen Anissa wear before.
Daphne is whispering now, and we all lean in to listen.
“She has one of those evil-eye bracelets and has, like, a tarot deck and stuff, and Evie said she cursed someone. Some guy in the year above who was bullying her, and then Anissa cursed him—everyone saw her do it—and the next day he broke his nose in rugby.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Nikita scoffs, but her voice has dropped, too, and there’s a furrow in her brow like she doesn’t quite believe her own scorn. I always assumed they were just rumors, people just being needlessly mean about Anissa, but…
Well, I wouldn’t mess with her. Just in case.
“Never mind that. What on earth is going on with her hair?” Chloe asks us, aghast. She pats her own immaculate French braid. “Did she cut it herself, d’you think?”
“With blunt scissors, maybe,” Daphne adds, because that’s exactly how it looks, and we all giggle. “I had the worst luck with a hairdresser a couple of years ago, tried to get a long bob and ended up with…Hang on, let me find the pictures, you’ll never believe…”
But just as she says it, Anissa looks over at us all.
Chloe gives her a little wave, though she’s blushing and looking guilty. Nikita, sitting with her back to the door, has turned around to look and may or may not have been caught staring; she looks at us with puffed-out cheeks and wide eyes, not sure whether to laugh at her own embarrassment or not.
I duck out of sight best I can.
I can’t shake the feeling that Anissa knew exactly where the inspiration for my sketch last week had come from.
If she did, that means she’s an Of Wrath and Rune fan like Jake and Max, but hearing Nikita talk about what an outcast she is only solidifies why I don’t want them to know about my association with the series.
I’ve only just shaken off my own loner status at school and found a friend group before it got too late, but Anissa has done the opposite.
I don’t want to be like that.
Maybe Anissa is just shy, or maybe she’s generally socially awkward, and those are totally separate facts from her liking OWAR.
I know, rationally, the two don’t go hand in hand.
Look at Jake! And the Discord community seem pretty chatty and nice—@silversmithhh has been messaging me on and off over the past few days, dissecting our favorite romance tropes and recommending yet more fanfic and even some books she thinks I’ll like.
She’s a first-year uni student at Cardiff studying law, and has a great appreciation for a longing look and grand romantic gestures.
But I think about Max with his off-putting attitude, and I also know that being an OWAR fan doesn’t automatically make you a likable person, either.
What if Anissa outs me as a fantasy geek, when I’m not? I mean, yes, fine, I made some drawings of that one character, and I did stay up till two a.m. last night reading the entire Of Love and Books fanfiction so far, but that hardly counts!
Does it?
Crap, am I a fan? I thought I could just pretend, for Jake’s sake…
No, I can’t afford to be the weird girl obsessed with this niche, nerdy series. Not in real life. Not when Anissa might be like that, and look where it’s gotten her—eating lunch on her own, completely out of touch with the world around her, and with no friends.
She places her order and comes over to our table.
“Hi.”
Nikita looks ready to burst, and says in a strange, high-pitched voice, “All right, Anissa?”
“Did you have free periods this morning, too?”
“Yep,” Daphne chirps, doing a much better job of making small talk. “We’re just debriefing on a date that Cerys had last night. It didn’t really go to plan.”
“Oh?” Anissa says, her bright hazel eyes shifting over to me.
I don’t know what to say. It’s not like it’ll get back to Jake through her like it might from Evie…
and all my brain is doing is screaming a mantra of You’re going to blurt out that you watched OWAR with him and she’ll know what that is and you’ll start gushing about Lady di Silver and Devon and the others are going to think you’ve lost it, don’t mention OWAR don’t mention OWAR mention OWAR mention OWAR mentionOWAR-mentionOWAR-mention—
I must be silent for a beat too long because Daphne saves me by explaining, “His friend was there, so it turned into a casual hangout instead of a date.”
Chloe says, “We were just trying to figure out how Cerys can make the next one a proper date, and drop some more hints that she’s interested in him romantically. Sort of ask him out without asking him out, you know?”
Anissa nods slowly, but doesn’t offer up any suggestions or contributions to the conversation. Daphne shifts in her seat, and Chloe glances between us all, fidgeting nervously with her glasses. Nikita clears her throat, but seems at a loss for something to break the ice.
We’re all rescued by the barista calling out, “Iced americano with vanilla syrup!” Anissa goes to collect her drink, leaving without so much as a wave goodbye.
“Do you think she heard us talking about her hair?” Chloe asks, worrying her lip between her teeth. “Should we have said something? Apologized? I could’ve shown her my hairdresser’s Instagram?”
Nikita says, “D’you see what I mean, though? She’s dead quiet and awkward.”
“She went to my school,” I offer up. “She’s always been like that, as far as I know.”
Daphne glances at the door, frowning, but it seems to be less irritation at Anissa and more like she’s debating how that interaction could’ve gone differently. Then she sighs. “Oh well. Anyway, those pictures I was going to show you…Would you just look at the state of me!”
She has us all in peals of laughter then, with her bowl-cut-esque style that looks totally atrocious, and Chloe shrieks, “No, I remember this! My mom said you looked like one of the Beatles!”
I join in, but my mind is still on Anissa, and my stomach squirms.
It was a lucky escape this time, I think. I’ll have to make sure it doesn’t happen again.