Chapter Nine
Nine
“No way.”
“Listen, it’s a solid idea,” Emmy insisted. “It’ll keep all the NPCs off our backs while we figure out a game plan.”
They were having lunch at a local diner at Emmy’s insistence.
She’d wanted to test her theory that being together with Will would stop the onslaught of eager single men.
So far, it was playing out exactly as she’d hoped.
While there were men in the restaurant, several of them potentially single, not one had looked her way.
Will shook his head as he poked at his lemon meringue pie.
“This is ridiculous.”
“Yes. Obviously. It’s also going to save us a headache or two.” Emmy reached over and stole a bite of his pie. He gave her a disgruntled look and she shrugged. “You weren’t eating it. Anyway, we can pull this off so long as we come to an agreement about one thing.”
“Just one?” Will asked sarcastically.
“Yes. This is important. Look at me.” He rolled his eyes but obliged her, meeting her gaze.
“If somebody—anybody—insists that we kiss each other to prove we’re in a relationship, we are going to say no.
We are going to tell them that’s a fucking weird request and that we’re not going to kiss for their amusement. ”
Will looked dubious. “Why would anyone ask us to do that?”
“Happens all the time in romcoms. That’s always the worst part of the stupid pretend-to-be-involved plot.
The two protagonists will inevitably encounter someone who’s like, ‘Oh, you’re engaged?
That’s so sweet! Give each other a kiss now.
Come on.’ And for some reason they are super insistent, but the characters never tell them to stop being creepy.
They just shrug like, ‘Welp, I guess we have to lock lips now, or our whole charade is blown.’”
“That’s moronic.”
“Sure is. And we’re not doing it.”
“Okay. I can agree to that,” he said after a moment’s consideration. “We tell people we’re in a relationship, but we never demonstrate it in any way.”
“That’s right. You can hold my hand if you feel so inclined—”
“Gracious of you.”
“—but that’s it.”
“Fair enough. We can give that a try. I’m going to quit my job.”
Emmy’s eyes bulged. “Huh? What? Why?”
Will shrugged. “What’s the point? I don’t even know if my medical knowledge is real or if it’s all yadda yadda’d by some author who bookmarked WebMD on their browser.”
“Yeah, but… it’s your job. What are you going to do all day?”
“I don’t know.” He spent a few seconds brooding over that. “Something different. I’ll figure it out. I’m not going to quit with no notice. It feels wrong, even if my shift supervisor is an NPC. I’ll put in my two weeks. We’ll go from there.”
“Two weeks. Crap. Am I going to be here that long?” At his look, she amended her statement.
“Are we going to be here that long? My sister’s going to start freaking out soon if she hasn’t already.
My whole family is going to go berserk. And Sarah…
man, I wish I had Sarah here. She always keeps a cool head. ”
“Who’s Sarah?”
“My best friend. She wouldn’t let me freak out if she were here.
She can just look at you and make you feel like she knows everything, and she never worries unnecessarily about anything.
” Emmy toyed absently with her coffee mug.
“There are so many people whose lives will be disrupted by this. I hate it. I hate that they might be scared for me, that I can’t tell them I’m okay. ”
Will reached out and laid his hand gently over hers. She looked at him and felt somewhat comforted by the sincere compassion in his eyes.
“We can only solve the problem that’s right in front of us,” he said quietly. “You can explain everything to your family and friends when you get back.”
Emmy studied him in silence for a moment. “You’re awfully confident.”
“Have to be. No other way to make this whole situation work out.”
“You’re sure you want to come with me? You don’t even know what my world is like. Plus… you’d be leaving your family behind. What about your siblings? Your parents? Are they…”
Will took his hand off hers and ate a bite of pie before answering. “No siblings. My parents own a farm up north.”
“And you’re okay leaving them? Do you hate them? That would be convenient.”
He gave her a look. “No, I don’t hate my parents.” His expression turned somber. “I love them. They were good parents. Still are. I just…”
Will wasn’t able to finish the sentence, wasn’t even sure what he’d been planning on saying.
He was too busy wondering if his parents were real.
Had he ever been born? Or had he just popped into existence at age twenty-eight?
Every time he tried to wrap his head around it, he felt a mild buzzing headache begin at the back of his skull.
Emmy clearly sensed his turmoil as she chipperly changed the subject.
“Okay! Game plan. I need a phone, I need transportation, and I need access to every library and bookstore in a ten-mile radius.”
“I get the first two, but why libraries and bookstores?”
“It’s a shot in the dark, but I was thinking maybe if a book got me into this mess, then a book will also be the key to getting me… us out.”
Will considered this, shrugged. It was as good a place to start as any.
They finished their pie and coffee as they discussed strategies and theories, planned out next steps, and bartered over how much he was willing to spend on a phone for her.
Emmy pointed out she needed 5G so she could search for bookstores and get directions, maybe take notes if she found something interesting.
She’d want to save those notes to the cloud, obviously.
Will capitulated on that, but remained firm when it came to getting her a car.
Emmy relented when he pointed out that she couldn’t rent or drive a car without a driver’s license.
She briefly toyed with the idea of making a fake, but without the proper tools and knowhow, it seemed like a futile effort.
“You do realize this means you’re going to have to be my chauffeur whenever I need to go somewhere,” Emmy pointed out on the drive back to Will’s place.
He shrugged. “You don’t exist in my world. Where would you even need to go besides a bookstore every once in a while?”
“You expect me to just hide out in your house like some kind of poltergeist you haven’t gotten around to banishing?”
“Yeah, I guess. It’d be nice if you didn’t make all my electronics short out. But I’ll understand if you can’t help yourself.”
Emmy crossed her arms over her chest and glared. It took a few seconds, but when he realized she wasn’t going to respond, he looked over at her again.
“What’s that look for?”
“I’m going to want to go places,” she stated.
“Fine. Jeez. I’ll take you places.”
“Good. That’s all I needed to hear.”
*
By the time they got back to the house, it was already late evening.
The last of the sunlight trickled over the horizon, and Emmy was exhausted from running all over town.
It was a good kind of exhausted, though, because she knew she was making progress.
Armed with a phone and new clothes, she would be able to start her search for a way out of this book.
The first thing she did was put her new wardrobe away in her room.
It was funny that she already thought of it as her room.
That might be a worrying development considering she didn’t want to form any attachments to this fantasy world.
Even if, she thought as she wandered into the kitchen and saw Will frowning over a box of pasta, there were some things she wouldn’t mind getting attached to.
She leaned against the kitchen doorway and watched him as he pulled the makings of dinner out of his cabinets.
Not only was this guy stupid hot, but he was surprisingly good company.
She just wished she hadn’t had to upend his entire life.
“I’ve got work tomorrow,” Will said later while they shared a meal of pasta in spicy red sauce, crusty bread, and Caesar salad from a bag.
“From when to when?”
“Six to two.”
“If you’re not too tired after your shift, maybe you could take me to the library? I want to get started on my search.”
“We’ll see. What’re you going to do while I’m at the hospital?”
“I don’t know. I’ll try to sleep in, watch some TV or something. I’ll probably end up going stir crazy after like thirty minutes. Then who knows what mischief I’ll get up to?” She narrowed her eyes at him. “You better back up all your files in case I decide to short out your electronics.”
He grinned at that and pointed at her with his fork. “That was good. Good callback.” He speared more pasta, chewed thoughtfully. “What’re you going to search for at the library?”
She took a sip of her drink, trying not to notice the solid line of his jaw as he chewed.
“I don’t know exactly. Romance novels. There might be something there.
I want to see if the book we’re in exists in this world, for one.
Maybe it will act as a doorway or something.
Other than that, I’m going to try to find the solution to the problem by eliminating everything that isn’t. ”
“Very Sherlock Holmes of you.”
“Hey, if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. His methods are sound. Except for the cocaine and opium and stuff.” She gestured at him with a jerk of her chin. “If I’m Holmes, does that make you Watson?”
“Yeah, I guess so. Nurse Watson.”
She cocked her head. “Why not doctor? Since we’re on the subject.”
Something in his expression closed off, and she realized there was a story there.
“I didn’t have the money for medical school, and I wanted to work with patients as soon as possible. Being a nurse puts you in the thick of things. You learn a lot, connect with people. More than doctors do sometimes. It felt like a good fit for me.”
“You being a nurse is the reason I bought the book.”
That clearly surprised him. “Why?”
“It was new and different. So many romance novels feature these Manly Men—with capital M’s—who are best friends with their gym and only have traditional-gender-role-approved Manly Man careers like contractor or FBI agent. Nurse was new and refreshing. It felt… real.”
Will didn’t respond to that. It was ironic, he thought bitterly, since real was the one thing he didn’t feel about himself at the moment.
But also sweet, he had to admit. He liked that she admired his work.
He had never been ashamed of being a nurse; it made him proud to have a career where he could help people every day.
Still, hearing the admiration in her tone was a soothing balm over his beleaguered psyche.
Dinner with her was normal enough. Conversation with her was deep enough.
Enough to keep the questions at bay for a few minutes.
“Thanks for dinner,” Emmy said, rising to clear her plate and his. “You’re a pretty good cook.”
“When I have the time. Usually I’m too tired to make anything. I end up eating handfuls of granola and chasing it with a protein shake.”
Emmy shuddered, amusing him. “Tell you what, for as long as I’m here with you, I’ll take cooking duty when you’re too tired for it.”
“That would be… great. Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it. Least I can do, considering.”
He helped her clean up the dishes, then they went their separate ways. The questions started to leak back into his mind as he showered, brushed his teeth, and prepared for bed. By the time he was under the covers, his brain was spiraling out of control.
How was it he could sleep and dream when he wasn’t real? Did the author write his dreams? Were his subconscious fears fueled by whatever character development had been deemed necessary to propel the story along?
Praying for peace, Will swallowed the sleeping pills he’d picked up that morning, closed his eyes, and waited for unconsciousness.