Sidequest for Love

by L.H. Cosway

  And then there was Afric. She’d told Leanne everything without asking my permission. It was a huge violation of trust, and I was fuming mad about it. Don’t get me wrong; I still adored her and there was no changing that. I knew she’d only talked to Leanne because she cared about me, but it was still shitty of her not to give me any prior warning.

  Grabbing my phone off the nightstand, I saw I had a missed call and a new voicemail. Both were from Afric. The voicemail had been left last night. I lifted the phone to my ear and hit play.

  Hi, Neil. It’s Afric. Well, obviously, you know it’s me. I guess you’re probably asleep right now. Or not answering your phone because you hate me, which is understandable. I’m a drunken arsehole who doesn’t deserve your friendship. I’m sorry for what I did, but in a way, I’m also not sorry because it needed to be done. This thing with Annabelle was getting way out of hand, and it was never going to end anywhere good, you know? You’re probably wondering why I ran off so suddenly, or, well, Leanne might’ve already told you, but she supported my idea vis-á-vis …erm, that thing we discussed in my apartment before we went out last night. Just know that it’s all been taken care of. I thought I could do this one thing for you, and then you wouldn’t have to grapple with the moral implications. I am obviously far less moral than you since I spilled to Leanne without your permission, and I also have no qualms about the other thing, not when I know what Annabelle planned to do with those screenshots. Honestly, you should be thanking me because that bitch is mad as a box of frogs. Oh, shite. I’m fucking this up, aren’t I? I always ramble when I’m nervous. Anyway, I would love it if you could forgive me, but I also totally get it if you’re not there yet. Be aware I’m prepared to grovel on my hands and knees. That’s literally how much I care about you because Afric O’Connor doesn’t grovel for just anybody. I miss you already … I want to snuggle with you on that pristine sofa in your neat little living room and watch cosy eighties romcoms. I might also remind you that we made a pact never to fight again, so technically, you can’t be fighting with me since it goes against the pact. Then again, pacts can always be broken, can’t they? The way you looked at me in the club probably confirms that. There was a chimney on top of your head, and it literally exploded. I was covered in soot. Okay, now I really am talking shite. I should get some sleep. Again, I’m sorry. I don’t want you to stop being my best friend, but I understand if you never want to look at my stupid face again. It’s up to you, and I’m here ready and willing to be yelled at and finger-pointed at until you feel better.

  The message ended, and I put my phone down, leaning back against the headboard. She was adorable and frustrating and ridiculous, and a part of me just wanted to forgive her right now because I wanted to snuggle on my couch and watch romcoms, too, but she’d also broken my trust. I was a wounded deer, and I wasn’t ready to let the person who’d shot me come and mend my wounds just yet, no matter how nice it would feel.

  I needed a day to be angry at her. After that, I was obviously going to forgive her. That was the extent to which my feelings had grown. What she’d done was bad, but it didn’t counteract how I felt for her. Afric was under my skin and deep inside my heart, and at this point, there was very little I wouldn’t forgive her for. That didn’t mean I wasn’t going to make her stew for a day or a few hours at the very least.

  Afric

  “I’m not normally one to rain on someone’s murder parade, but I think you need to take a break,” TheBigSix said through my headset.

  “I don’t need a break. What I need to do is finish killing all these blasted trolls,” I shot back grumpily.

  It was Sunday afternoon, and I hadn’t heard back from Neil. I was too upset to try and call him again, and besides, I’d spilled my guts in the voicemail I left last night, and I knew he’d listened to it.

  Seemed like he’d decided to take the stubborn route by going silent on me.

  Well, that was fine. Really, it was. I deserved the silent treatment for being such a big, drunken blabbermouth. At least I still had Greenforest. Here I could be as morally unscrupulous as I liked, and there was no one to look at me with sad, betrayed, bottomless brown eyes. No one to make me feel like I was the worst best friend in the world.

  Every time I had a quiet moment, my mind would fill with Neil’s face when he realised I’d told Leanne about Annabelle. And every time the image came, I felt like someone was pouring vinegar into a stab wound in the centre of my gut.

  Speaking of stabbing, my gargoyle was acting like an absolute psychopath today, and TheBigSix clearly feared for my sanity. The virtual ground around me was littered with dead troll bodies.

  “Committing a needless massacre won’t make you feel any better,” TheBigSix said. “Why don’t you talk to Neil in person? Leaving cowardly voicemails isnae going to win him back.”

  “You’re calling me a coward? Tell me, have you come clean to Yellowshoes about your feelings for her yet?”

  He made a disgruntled noise. “I’m working my way up to it.”

  “Hmm, well, you can leave off lecturing me about my love life until you get yours sorted.”

  “It’s not the same. She lives thousands of miles away, and we’ve never even met in person.”

  “No time like the present to book a flight.”

  “I’m not booking a flight, not until I at least have an inkling of whether my feelings are returned.”

  “Then you’re going to have to tell her.”

  “I know, and I will, just not today.”

  My phone buzzed with a message, and I snatched it up, my heart in my throat. To my disappointment, it wasn’t Neil. It was only Michaela inviting me over to her house for a late lunch. Apparently, she had big news. I replied, saying I’d be there. If nothing else, it would be good to get out of the flat for a while and away from all the temptation to murder mythical creatures in Greenforest.

  I logged off from the game and went to take a much-needed shower. I still hadn’t washed away my eyeliner from last night, and I was starting to resemble Paudy O’Shea, a neighbour of mine from back home who refused to let go of his rocker youth. Supposedly, he’d been a roadie for Black Sabbath in the eighties.

  Once out of the shower, I threw on a hoodie and some leggings, pulled my hair up into a messy bun, and set off for Michaela’s house. My friend had landed on her feet moving in with James. He was a few years older than her and owned a house in a leafy, residential part of London. What I wouldn’t give to be able to afford a place with a garden. My flat didn’t even have a balcony.

  I pressed the button for the doorbell, and a few moments later, Michaela appeared.

  “You’re looking very cheerful. Not working today?” I said as I stepped into the hallway.

  “It’s my day off. Neil is on duty today,” she replied, and even the mention of his name had my metaphorical gut wound reappearing. “Speaking of, how have things been with you two? I haven’t seen you together since the night of Isaac’s party. You seemed pretty cosy.”

  I blew out a breath as she led me into her kitchen, where she’d prepared a pot of tea and a selection of sandwiches. “Ooh, Salmon Sensation and cucumber. Someone’s feeling fancy,” I said as I plucked a dainty sandwich and shoved it in my mouth. When I felt like crap, food was my drug of choice.

  “I remembered you liked them the last time you came over for lunch,” Michaela replied, eyeing me studiously. “Why are you avoiding the subject? Has something happened with Neil?”

  “Yes,” I replied, not bothering to lie. This was Michaela. I could tell her anything, and she wouldn’t judge. Sarita was a little different. I could tell her anything, but she would judge. I didn’t mind, though. It was good to have a balance of friendship types.

  “Well,” Michaela said. “What is it?”

  I swallowed down the lump of masticated sandwich before lifting my eyes to hers. “I’m in love with him.”

  Michaela stared at me, her brown eyes round as saucers. “Seriously?”

&
nbsp; I nodded sombrely.

  “What … I mean … how did that happen?”

  “Slowly and insidiously, like a thief who takes their time slipping their hand inside your chest cavity to rip out a vital organ.”

  “Okay, now you’re just being melodramatic.”

  “All I’m saying is, he made me fall in love with him by being all cute and awkward and kind and endearing and sexy, and now I’ve fucked everything up. Typical Afric behaviour.”

  “Stop referring to yourself in the third person. And whatever you’ve done, I’m sure it can be rectified.”

  “It can’t. He hates me. Or, well, he doesn’t want to talk to me at least. I broke his trust.”

  “How did you break his trust?”

  “I revealed a secret of his to someone I shouldn’t have.” I wasn’t going to tell Michaela all the details because that would just be further disrespecting Neil’s trust. It had never been my secret to tell in the first place.

  “Do you think he loves you back?”

  “I think he lusts me back. I’m not too certain about love. No man has ever loved me before.”

  “You can’t know that. Just because your past boyfriends might not have said it doesn’t mean—”

  “I know you’re trying to be kind, but they didn’t love me, Michaela. And even if they did, they obviously fell out of love with me at some point because they all broke up with me in the end. I came to terms with the fact that though I can be charming for a while, at some point, the spell breaks, and men get sick of me. I might be temporarily loveable, but I’m not long-term, forever loveable.”

  “Yes, you are. I know this for a fact because I love you. I’ve loved you for the entire ten years that I’ve known you.”

  “Oh, crap. It’s happening. She’s finally coming out of the closet. Sarita’s gonna be pissed that she’s not the only lesbian in our friendship group anymore.”

  Michaela reached out to swipe me on the shoulder. “Don’t be an arsehole. You know what I mean.” She paused to eye me a moment, then asked, “Does it feel different with Neil compared to your past boyfriends?”

  Yes. A million times, yes. Neil was the only man I’d ever actually wanted to kiss. He was the only man who could make my entire body feel like it was burning just by looking at me. He was the only man who made my heart feel all twisted up inside, like the ball of tangled wool my sister Helen stored in the top drawer of our shared cabinets after abandoning her attempt to learn how to crochet.

  I nodded, and Michaela made a noise of commiseration as she came and wrapped her arms around my shoulders.

  “It’ll work itself out. Neil will come around. He’s a forgiving type.”

  I hoped she was right. She hugged me for a few moments before drawing away and going to pour us both some tea.

  “So, what is this good news you wanted to tell me?”

  “Oh, it’s not a big deal,” she said, looking rather sheepish now.

  “Hey, just tell me. I’m in full depression mode. I need some good news to lift my spirits.”

  “Well,” she said, glancing at the table as she lifted her hand. My eyes were drawn to a sparkling diamond ring on her finger.

  “Oh, my God! You and James got engaged?”

  Her lips began to pull into a smile. She was obviously overjoyed but felt bad telling me of her romantic success while I was wading through the ditch of heartbreak. “He took me to dinner last night and popped the question. I wanted to tell you and Sarita together, but she’s at work today, and I was impatient. I’ll tell her later tonight when she gets off.”

  “That’s amazing news, Michaela!” I exclaimed. I didn’t even have to fake being thrilled for her. She was one of my best friends, and her happiness was my happiness. She and James made a wonderful couple.

  “Thank you. We’re having a small engagement party next weekend. You’re invited, of course. It’ll be an intimate affair, just family and close friends.”

  My stomach tensed. “Will Neil be there?”

  She chewed her lip. “Well, yes, he’s my friend, and he and James have known each other for years.”

  “Oh.”

  “If you think it’ll be too awkward, I completely understand if you want to give it a miss.”

  “No way. I’m not missing your engagement party. I’m sure if Neil’s still mad at me by then, he’ll just ignore me. He’s already demonstrated that he’s adept at the silent treatment. And you don’t need to worry about me making a scene. I’ll be on my best behaviour.”

  Her eyes turned sympathetic. “I could reach out to him. See if he could be convinced to talk to you.”

  “No, I don’t want to force anything on him. If he wants to see me, he knows where to find me.”

  Michaela nodded, though she still had that sad look on her face. She shouldn’t be feeling sad right now. She should be feeling excited about her engagement. I swiftly changed the subject, and we talked about the party next weekend, which was to be an outdoor, afternoon tea affair in the gardens of a swanky hotel. Then we discussed what type of wedding she envisioned having.

  An hour later, Michaela was walking me out when the doorbell rang. Through the colourful stained-glass panes on her front door, I spotted a familiar silhouette.

  Neil.

  Michaela glanced at me. “I don’t know what he’s doing here. Do you want to hide while I talk to him?”

  I shook my head and inhaled a breath for courage. “No. It’s fine. I’ll leave. He probably wants to talk to you about work or something.”

  She nodded and went to open the door. “Michaela, hi,” Neil said before his eyes fell on me. Ooof! The eye contact felt like a stomach punch. He frowned. “Oh. Sorry to disturb. I didn’t realise you’d have company. I can go.”

  “It’s fine. What did you need?” Michaela asked.

  It was on the tip of my tongue to say goodbye to her and leave, but I was frozen in place. I couldn’t stop staring at him. He looked tired, and I yearned to take his glasses off, smooth out the stress lines in between his eyebrows, and run my hands through his short brown hair.

  Neil dragged his eyes away from me and cleared his throat. “Trevor asked me to visit an archive to find the original architectural drawings of an old building where he wants to shoot a Running on Air episode. Supposedly, the archive is run by some cranky old geezer who’s difficult to deal with, but he tends to be more accommodating to women, so I was going to ask if you’d come with me.”

  Again, his eyes flicked briefly to mine before returning to Michaela. “I’m so sorry, Neil. I can’t go,” she said. “My parents will be arriving for a visit soon, and I have a big dinner planned.”

  “Right, James mentioned the engagement,” Neil replied. “Congratulations.”

  “Thank you. I haven’t told Mum and Dad yet. That’s what the dinner’s for.”

  “Well, I’m sure I can manage a curmudgeonly old archivist by myself. I’ve dealt with worse.”

  “I can come with you,” I offered impulsively, drawing his attention.

  Neil’s frown returned. “I’m not sure if—"

  “Oh, for crying out loud. Just take my help, Neil. And quit acting like you don’t know me.”

  His gaze cut to mine. “I wasn’t acting like—”

  “What a great idea. Thank you so much for offering to help, Afric,” Michaela interjected enthusiastically. “Now, get going, you two. Most archives close at five, so you don’t have a lot of time to get there.”

  She practically shoved me out the door, and then Neil and I were left standing on her front stoop, staring at one another like the most awkward pair that had ever existed.

  “You don’t have to come,” Neil said, averting his gaze.

  “I want to come. We need to talk.”

  “I’m not sure I’m ready to talk.”

  “Is that why you ignored my voicemail?”

  One eyebrow rose. “You mean the one you left me at three in the morning rambling on about how you were sorry but also not
sorry?”

  “Yes. That one. Though that was only one part of what I said. I was mainly apologising.” I paused, inhaling a deep breath and channelling as much sincerity into my voice as I could muster. “You have no idea how sorry I am. I meant what I said about grovelling. Whatever you need from me, I’ll do it.”

  There was a flash of emotion in his eyes as they locked on mine. I nearly fell over from the intensity of his gaze, and I yearned to know what he was thinking. We must’ve been standing there locked in a stare-down for a while because Michaela opened her living room window and stuck her head out.

  “Why are you two still standing out there? Didn’t you hear what I said about the archive closing at five?”

  My eyes flickered between Neil’s. Feeling unsure, I reached out and touched his hand. “Do you want me to come with you?”

  His eyes closed for a second, his reply little more than a whisper. “Yes.”

  Just like that, my spirits lifted. There were a hundred helium balloons beneath my feet, propelling me into the air.

  “We’re going,” I said to Michaela before motioning for Neil to lead the way.

  We walked quietly in the direction of the nearest Tube station, and I let Neil lead us onto the appropriate train. There weren’t many seats, so we ended up sitting side by side, our backs to the window.

  His elbow brushed mine, and he coughed, pulling it back. “Sorry,” he muttered.

  “You don’t need to apologise for brushing my elbow,” I said, then leaned close to murmur in his ear, “I’ve always liked it when you touched me.”

  His Adam’s apple visibly bobbed in his throat as he swallowed. He looked a little embarrassed, so I relented and changed the subject.

  “What’s the game plan for dealing with the old geezer? Do I need to charm him? I think I have some lipstick in my bag that I could put on.”

  He cast his gaze to mine, his eyes running over me, and I felt his attention like a physical caress. “That won’t be necessary.”

  I reached up to pull the elastic from my hair. “I can let my hair down,” I said as it fell around my shoulders. “Men like it when women wear their hair down, right?”