Chapter 22
I n the distance, Clem could hear one of the judges laughing as they were interviewed across the grass; it was almost a marker of how outlandish this Genie situation was.
‘This is ridiculous,’ said Lucas, scowling, and speaking before Clem had the chance. ‘I’d never even met Clem then. You came here to cause trouble over a bunch of coincidences and random accusations?’ He shook his head. ‘I thought you’d got past all this—’
‘Got past it? I told you how I felt about you—’
‘And I told you, you’re like a sister to me.’ Lucas heaved a sigh, rubbing his forehead, looking apologetic now. ‘Please, Georgina—’
‘It’s Genie,’ she snapped.
Ironic, that she was criticising him for not using the name Genie when she was still calling him Lukey . ‘Genie then,’ he said. ‘You can’t keep doing this, otherwise we won’t be able to—’
‘What, you’re going to threaten me now?’
‘No,’ he said gently, as if he were trying to handle a savage dog. ‘I’m not threatening you. I wouldn’t do that. But we can’t stay friends if you’re always going to try to win me over, to make me feel something that isn’t there. It won’t work.’
Even though his tone was calm, gentle, Genie looked like she’d been slapped across the cheeks, two red patches appearing high on her cheekbones. She sucked in a lungful of air, and stomped across the grass away from them, without a backward look.
Clem automatically made to go after her – because clearly there had been some misunderstanding, something she hadn’t grasped years ago that was now shining like a spotlight.
But Lucas’s hand settled on her shoulder, and she stopped, feeling as though she’d missed a step going downstairs.
His hand was as warm as the sunlight on the top of her head.
‘Leave her be,’ he advised. ‘It’s best she calms down for now.’
‘But she has it all wrong.’ Clem couldn’t believe Genie was Georgina.
The friend Lucas had told her about – the friend who had dared him to climb a tree, been distraught over his injured leg.
‘I never knew it was you, in the library. I didn’t know you were the one she liked from the bistro,’ she went on.
‘W-What?’ Lucas sounded caught off guard.
‘You said you’d never met me, but when she mentioned the library . . . I kind of remembered,’ Clem admitted. ‘We just didn’t know each other’s names. And it was a long time ago.’
She was monumentally embarrassed now, her insides doing a jig, because she couldn’t fathom how this coincidence had happened.
It almost made things feel . . . as though they were meant to happen this way, like she’d been meant to encounter Lucas again.
Which was ridiculous because she didn’t believe in fate or destiny, had never placed any stock in fortune telling.
‘Are you sure?’ he said.
‘I couldn’t find a book I needed, for an essay,’ Clem continued. She looked at her feet, shoes poking into the spikes of grass, rather than at his face. ‘I was searching the shelves. You had the last copy, and you returned it so I could have it. I was on a deadline.’
In spite of herself, her lips quirked at the memory.
No wonder she hadn’t remembered him, though – his hair had been cut extremely short, shaved slightly on one side, rather than the thick, dark messy hair he sported now.
And he’d been completely clean-shaven, not a hint of the shadowy stubble decorating his jaw today.
He’d looked tired that day, too, dark rings under his eyes, and told her he’d been up late watching movies.
Clem looked up. Lucas seemed to be thinking about it, his nose wrinkling as he delved into the past.
‘Wait, that was you ?’ he said. ‘No way, it can’t have been. You had—’
‘Blonde hair? Yeah, a phase I went through. Didn’t want to fry it with bleach anymore, so I went back to my natural black. Dyed it before Genie filmed that video of me.’ She tugged at a strand of her dark hair to demonstrate. ‘It was longer then, too.’
He gazed at her with such intensity, it was like being placed under a microscope. It was a soft look, though, unlike the way he’d looked at Genie mere moments ago. She shuddered, clutching her bare arm.
Clem recalled other parts of the interaction in the library, too – how she’d been utterly captured by those green eyes, how she wanted an excuse to stay long after he’d given her the book.
She’d asked what movies he’d been watching – sci-fi ones, for an essay – and they’d swapped favourites.
When she explained she loved the Lord of the Rings trilogy, but had never seen the extended versions, he said they should watch it together sometime.
She’d thought about him for months after that day in the library, disappointed she’d never spotted him around campus afterwards so they could make good on his suggestion. He’d stuck out in her mind like he’d ignited some spark inside her.
‘I kept hoping I’d run into you again but I didn’t, then I graduated,’ he admitted.
‘Really?’ she said slowly. She was equal parts frustrated and bubbling over with joy at this.
Because he’d lied to her, hadn’t he? Tried to sabotage her chances in Whisked Away , with false advice.
And he’d said he wasn’t interested in her, had to focus on his family. But would this change anything?
‘Yeah . . .’ He tailed off.
‘I can’t believe I never ran into you again,’ she said. Admittedly, she had become something of a recluse after dropping out, at least until she got the job at Catpurrcino.
‘I was up and down the country for a while,’ he explained. ‘Catering jobs with Dwayne. Festivals, live-action roleplay events.’
They stood on the grass in silence, warm summer sunlight bearing down on them, conversation drifting through the air from the judges, the audience, and the staff.
Somehow, things were more layered now between Clem and Lucas, like the building of a cake – the edges of their relationship softening in ways she didn’t want it to.
And Clem felt awkward in a dizzying, delightful way, knowing he’d wanted to run into her again.
But the unease was nearly burning a hole in her chest, too, it was so intense.
‘I can’t believe this . . .’ she said. ‘I can’t believe it was you. I never would have thought this would happen . . .’
‘It is pretty weird . . .’
The conversation lulled, punctuated by birdsong in the trees and the chatter of the audience, the clanking of spoons on plates.
The sound brought Clem crashing back to reality, as if she’d taken a tumble in the grass.
A short distance away, the small audience were still enjoying their bakes; some of them were being interviewed on camera.
Clem’s kitten buns were sitting abandoned on Genie’s table, their glaze and their amber hue iridescent in the sun.
The sight of them reminded her why she’d been so conflicted before.
Had this changed anything? Did it matter that they’d met before?
What she really wanted to know was whether he’d tried to sabotage her.
‘I need to ask you something,’ Clem whispered, conflicted. He’d defended her from Genie; that meant something to her. But she had to ask.
‘Is this about what you said in the tent? About me getting my wish . . . ? What was that all about?’ There were etchings of confusion on his brow.
‘Did you lie to me?’
‘W-What? Lie about what?’
She drew closer to him, lowering her voice in case anyone overheard; she didn’t want him to be dragged over the coals on social media.
Her voice trembled, something inside of her screaming at her to stop, because she hated arguments – and she’d already dealt with one confrontation today with Genie.
But she had to say it. She might as well get all of the confrontation out of the way in the same few hours, rather than have to revisit this again.
‘You offered to help me out with the bread, the kitten buns. Did you lie to me about the method to try and wreck my bake?’
He stared at her, stunned, his expression unreadable. Then he laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. ‘What? No, of course I didn’t.’
Clem took a few steps away from him. Her fingers were trembling with anxiety but she clenched her fists, letting the annoyance rise up in its place.
Better to be mad than anxious. ‘Really? Because every time I tried your method, it ended up a mess. I finally fixed it on my own and it turned out perfectly. If I’d taken your advice, I probably would have been voted off. Did you want that?’
‘You can’t seriously think I’d be that conniving.’ He was scowling now, the lines of his face taut, a tension in his cheekbones. ‘I’m not like that,’ he retorted. ‘I helped you because you were struggling! I kissed you because I like you, and—’
‘And why did Genie turn up here, in the audience?’ Clem continued, in full flow and unable to stop. ‘Did you bring her here on purpose?’
‘You’re being paranoid. I didn’t know why she wanted to come here, until now. You heard me; you saw what happened.’
They were at an impasse and she didn’t know what else to say. Genie had once wronged her and they’d been friends. How could she know if Lucas was telling the truth?
‘We should find the others,’ Lucas said stiffly. ‘The bus’ll be here soon.’
Clem didn’t answer – her brain was busy doing cartwheels over their interactions, trying to work out what to think.
*