Chapter Six #2
A shadow falls over the doorway, and we all turn. He makes no noise, but the entire entrance is filled with Cave. His floppy hat is pushed back, and his amber eyes are locked on me.
“Hey, big guy,” I say, and he crosses the room in three strides. Then I am once again lifted off the floor as he pulls me against his chest, and my feet dangle. He inhales, and I feel the tension leave his body.
“I have no wings, yet I return. I have no chains but want to stay,” he rumbles against my hair. “What am I?”
I smile into the rope tied around his neck. “Me.”
He doesn’t put me down for a long time, and I don’t ask him to. Over his shoulder, I glimpse Noa and Cipher watching us. When Cave finally sets me down, he keeps his hand fixed on my shoulder, his thumb running against the side of my neck.
“I need to tell you all something—two things, actually.”
“You’re pregnant,” Noa says.
“What? No. I’m on birth control.”
“You’re dying,” he counters.
“No. Noa, let me finish.”
“Sorry, I panic when people announce announcements. I can’t help it.”
“I’ve moved out,” I say before Noa can offer me a third option. “For good, this time. My bag is in the car, and I got a job here on the island.”
“Doing what?” Cipher asks.
“Nixie’s assistant,” Noa answers for me in excitement.
“Good luck,” Cipher says, and Cave huffs out something I swear is a laugh.
“Why does everyone have the same reaction? Nixie cannot be that bad.”
“Of course she isn’t, at least not compared to your last boss,” Cipher adds, and that makes me feel better. “Congratulations. Just make sure you give it back to her as much as she gives it to you.”
I nod. That I can do. But honestly, I think this may be the best job offer I have ever received.
Noa takes me to get my car, while Cave and Cipher have been given instructions to move Cipher’s old bed out and the new one in. Given how big the mattress looked, I don’t know how they plan to fit it all in. Yet by the time we get back, with my car and food, the bed is all set up.
As I’m helping Noa put on the bedding, my phone rings, and Leni’s name lights up the screen. I answer with my ass in the air, trying to stretch the sheet over the edge.
“Hey, you.”
Her scream at the other end of the line nearly deafens me. “VALLI, OH MY GOD!”
My stomach drops to the floor. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt? What happened?”
“I got a scholarship!”
“You what?”
“A scholarship . . . a full ride.” She’s now crying and laughing at the same time.
“An email just came through. I thought it was a scam at first, so I took it to the financial aid office, and they called the foundation involved, who confirmed it’s real.
It covers everything. My tuition, all my fees, my dorm, my meal plan, and there’s even a textbook allowance every semester.
And Valli, there’s also a stipend. If I keep my grades up, it renews every year until I graduate. ”
I fall onto the bed, and beside me the guys have gone awfully still. “Len, slow down. Scholarships don’t just happen. You have to apply.”
“I know, but I didn’t apply. The letter says I was nominated.
There is a whole thing about recognizing students who show promise and resilience, and Valli, they mentioned Mom and Dad.
Not by name, but it’s for students who have carried burdens they shouldn’t.
Somebody saved us, Valli. It’s a miracle. ”
My eyes burn. Only weeks ago I was lying awake doing the math, counting down the days until her accommodation payment was due. I had half saved up, and I had been dreading that I would have to call for an extension.
“What’s it called, the foundation?”
Paper rustles in the background. “The Harvest Scholars Foundation. I looked them up and they barely have a website—it’s very exclusive. The financial aid office lady said she had never seen an award this complete. She said that whoever funds it must really . . . Valli, are you crying?”
“No,” I lie, wiping my face.
Harvest.
I examine them slowly. Noa diverts his eyes to the ceiling. Cipher plays with the trinkets on his jacket. Cave watches me dead on.
“Len, that’s . . . I’m so happy for you. You deserve every bit of good fortune.”
“We should celebrate. When you visit, we can get real coffee, not the machine sludge. My treat. I can actually say that now—my treat.” I listen to her excited voice and keep my eyes on the three men standing in front of me.
By the time she winds down, and we say I love you a few times and hang up, I have stopped pretending not to cry. I set the phone down and sit up.
“Who did this?” I ask them.
Noa looks at Cipher, who looks at Cave, and he looks at me.
“Did what?” Noa asks, trying to act innocent with his smudged zombie makeup and a grin plastered across his face.
“The Harvest Scholars Foundation.”
“Never heard of it,” Cipher says, his ears so red they could stop traffic.
“Sounds fake,” Noa agrees. “Very suspicious, you should look into it.”
“You’re both smiling,” I reply, unsure whether to cry or laugh.
“We’re just happy people,” Noa says, and I roll my eyes, turning to Cave.
“Did you do this?”
“No,” he says. Which would be a hell of a lot more convincing if the corner of his mouth wasn’t pinching up in an almost smile.
“Seriously, you didn’t think harvest would give it away? You named it after corn.”
“Okay, in fairness,” Noa says, holding up his hands, “that was a group decision. I had better ideas, but no one cared for those. Like the Grave Diggers Society, or Dead Man Island.”
I press both my hands over my face to hide my tears. “It’s too much, do you understand that? Her tuition, dorm, food, and a stipend. For four years. That’s . . . I can’t even. Do you know how much money that is? I can’t take that from you; I can’t ever pay it back.”
“Hey, no,” Noa says, sitting beside me. He grabs my hands and gently tugs them away from my face. “It’s not too much; it’s not enough. It will never be enough. Do you understand me?”
“Noa.”
“No one has ever seen us before you. People look at Cave and see a monster. They look at Cipher and see a weirdo. They look at me and think I’m too much.
Yet you took one look at us and saw the men beneath.
You dug a hole with me because it sounded fun, you made Cave apologize, you held Cipher’s face and told him you would go slow.
Nobody has ever done that for us. So, no, it’s not too much.
Money is simply money, whereas you gave us something we can’t buy. ”
My tears don’t slow. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Say thank you and let it be done. But if that’s really not enough for you”—his mouth curves cheekily—“and you genuinely want to repay us, there is one thing . . .”
“Anything.”
“There is a hole behind the east fence that won’t dig itself, and I have been told my company is intolerable.”
A laugh breaks out of me—that is not where I thought this was going. “You want me to dig a hole?”
“I want you to dig a hole with me. It will be so much fun.”
“Deal.”
The sound that comes out of Noa has me in fits of giggles as he punches the air and slides off the bed. “You guys all heard it here first: we are digging a hole. I’m getting my good shovel—stay here and don’t move.” Then he’s gone.
Cipher hands me a clean rag to wipe my face, and Cave’s hand settles on the back of my neck.
Two days ago, I stood in a house full of ghosts and felt nothing but panic about how I was going to make ends meet. Today my worries have faded, and I am going to dig a hole with a zombie, and I have never felt like this before in my life.