Chapter Eighty-Six
Fiona’s POV:
“Ugh, I feel like a car ran me over. Twice,” I grumble as we walk through Veronica’s door.
Tristan gives me a sympathizing pat on the head, and I lean slightly into it.
Though she had been relieved to see us help in the search for Amber, her mother had insisted we shouldn’t go back home at that time of the morning and that we should allow the daybreak properly.
She had offered to let us sleep a little more; Tristan in the living room with Gold and me with Amber and her sister but I had turned it down for two reasons.
For one, I had been noticing a little friction between James and Tristan for whatever reason and I wasn’t keen on leaving them alone together.
There was also the issue of my nightmares. Veronica and Tristan have started getting used to my sleep-yelling; plus, they understand, it’s a stage they’ve been through before.
But I doubt Eleanor’s family would understand if they saw me yelling my head off while sleeping. We finally left their place at around 6:30 am, after Mrs. Jerkins had insisted on making us a quick breakfast, turning down our efforts at refusing it.
Then Tristan had wanted to use the chance to get a few things from the place he shares with the guys.
They obviously wanted to know everything that had happened since the last time we all talked and that’s why we’re just returning home at 9, feeling like something the cat dragged in.
“I’m going to take a quick shower,” Tristan announces and I nod.
I’m halfway upstairs when it occurs to me. There are only two bathrooms in this house. The one in Veronica’s room and the one in my room, connecting to another room which is Thomas’.
I look back to see Tristan angling his head while looking at me with a question in his eyes.
He seems to have realized the situation at the same time as me. Trying to be as cool as possible, I say to him “Come on then,” ignoring the fact the million fan girl butterflies were jumping around in my belly for no good reason. Those idiots.
I wonder if I left any hair in the drain when I took my shower earlier though.
James’ POV:
I look at the arm of my jacket hanging onto a part of my locker and exhaustion washes over me afresh. The simple task of tugging it off proves too stressful.
I shut my eyes to push back the headache threatening to split my head apart and when I open it, Eleanor is standing beside me, looking worried.
“What’s wrong?” she asks.
I sigh and shake my head before grabbing my bag and heading for the exit. I’m not sure I can endure an extra minute in any class.
It was a miracle that I didn’t scream at the language teacher who was trying to make me answer questions in the last class.
We had decided to take language classes to help us with our camouflage for the mission.
Eleanor walks down the hallway with me, grabbing my arm just before I walk out the door.
“Hey, talk to me, okay?” I don’t know why but I’m suddenly annoyed and I tug my arm out of her hand before opening the door and walking out.
I’ve only taken a few steps before my mind starts worrying me over my reaction to Eleanor, on top of everything.
I sigh in exasperation and head back inside to find her still standing at the spot, eyes heavy with tears.
“Look Eleanor, I’m sorry”, I start, but she turns away from me.
“Never mind, James.”
She starts to walk back to the school, but I pull her out of the door and hold on to her to prevent her from walking out on me.
“Dylan is getting married,” I say and let go of her arm and watch her face go from annoyance to shock to confusion in a minute.
“Wait, what?” she asks, looking as astounded as I had felt when he had dropped the bomb on me.
“To whom?”
“Some girls at his shop, apparently,” I replied, sighing as I remembered how he had thrown a punch at me when I had asked him for details.
He ignored all my questions until I yelled at him. This had set him off too and he had yelled right back, asking whether I thought he was a kid or something.
I replied that I was considering that conclusion based on his recent announcement. At this, he tried to throw a punch at me and that’s when I left for Eleanor’s house.
Then the whole issue with Fiona and this morning too, I didn’t get enough sleep, and everything has been stewing in my head, I conclude, facing Amber who looks speechless.
“I’m sorry for snapping at you though, it’s no excuse,” I pleaded with her.
She shakes her head comes closer and hugs me. I held the hug tighter than I intended, inhaling her familiar scent of a mix of the perfume Fiona gets her every year for her birthday and lavender, a signature in all their household materials in the Jerkins house, from dishwasher to toilet soap and detergent.
We pull back after a while and surprisingly, I feel way better than earlier.
“Thank you,” I say to Amber, hoping she can see how honest I am with my gratitude.
Something flashes in her eyes, but it’s gone and covered with a smile before I can wonder what it is about.
“It’s nothing,” Eleanor replies with a scoff as if the idea of me thanking her is ridiculous.
But I continue as I have, nothing is making me go back in there. Someone is bound to make me lose my mind soon.
I wave to her and start to leave but she falls in step beside me. At my look of surprise, she grins. “You don’t want to be alone right now.”
I argue but she waves it away. Just pay me back with ice cream. “Let’s go to Freeze it.”
She won’t accept to stay back so I just shrug and follow her. “Ice cream it is then.”
We’re close to the huge school gates when suddenly, she stops and turns. “Give me a minute. I need to grab something in the cave.”
She runs back towards the school, and I continue outside, yelling to her behind “Just catch up with me outside when you are ready.” I don’t know what I’ll do without those girls.
Fiona’s POV:
I gently close the refrigerator with my body and place the contents of my arm and hand on the table.
While Tristan took a bath in the bathroom upstairs, I decided to pop into the living room and grab a snack.
Turns out that being sleep-deprived and tired was a very good combination for feeling ravenously hungry. I wonder how long I’ll continue this routine of thinking, eating, sleeping, or rather, trying to sleep, rinse and repeat.
I made up my mind to ask Veronica and Tristan for the next line of action. All this waiting was driving me crazy, and I just miss Mum more these days.
We were always one team, and I can’t help feeling, despite all that I’ve heard, that I need Mum to get through all this.
Of course, I’m very curious about her side of the story amidst all this. Hearing all this has made many things clearer to me though; the no-sleeping out rule, the hair-dying routine, and the instruction to never tell anyone.
Now I’m wondering how much of it all a lie was. My dad was abroad, supposedly married to someone else, and the hideous gifts his “new wife sends to me.”
Approaching footsteps snap me out of my thoughts and I look up to see Tristan coming down the stairs, patting his hair dry.
Once again, I’m reminded of how hot this “bodyguard” of mine is. Luckily, he’s busy trying to pull his leg out of a tiny thread that has snagged his flops in the carpet, so he doesn’t notice me gawking.
When he does look up, his face morphs into amusement at what I’m doing. I promptly shove another oily chip in my mouth, raising my eyebrows in a look that I intend to mean “Got anything to say about it?”
He raises his hand in a show of surrender and gestures towards the half-eaten bag of chips in my hand. “Can I have some?