by Frankie Rose
It was Wednesday, but it could have been Sunday, or maybe even Monday. The days were all depressingly the same here, after all. I retrieved a brand-new horror novel from the shelf in my room and sat down in the lounge, preparing to immerse myself in another world for a short while. It was easier than dealing with the confusion of my own. It was a thick book; at least it would last a couple of days.
“I never did thank you for setting up my room, Agatha,” I said, as I traced my index finger along the lines of the blurb.
“You should thank Daniel,” Agatha replied without pausing in what she was doing. The sound of her typing was all machine-gun determination.
“What?”
“Oh, yeah. He arranged all of that for you. I was surprised he managed to get that bed down here at such a short notice.”
Daniel? I stared at the cover of the book. How had he known my favorite author? Or that this was the only one of his books I hadn’t read?
I did my best to follow the story for a while, but it was impossible. The fifteenth page came around and I had no idea what was going on. The book made a loud snap when I slammed it closed. Why did he have to be so confusing?
As if on cue, Agatha’s head shot up. She paused, her eyes distant as she listened for sounds I couldn’t make out.
“He’s home.”
A rush ran through my body, a mixture of apprehension and panic, combined with a considerable amount of excitement, and I chastised myself. “I don’t know what you’re so happy about,” I grumbled to myself under my breath. He was going to be hella furious with me.
Agatha caught sight of me muttering and chuckled. “Don’t worry. I’ll talk to him. I may be small but he’s more afraid of me than you’d imagine.”
“I’m fine.”
“I know, I’m just saying.” She smiled and turned back to her computer screen, so when Daniel entered the hangar two seconds later I was the only person staring at the entrance.
He paused and caught me in the flash of his eyes. The term green with envy sprung to mind for some reason, though that wasn’t the particular sin that burned through me when he locked me to the spot. Nope. That would be lust, my conscience whispered. I scowled. Was it possible for your own body to turn traitor on you? If it was, then mine most certainly had.
Daniel wore his battered leather jacket over a white v-neck shirt and fresh jeans. Still the same green Converse, though. Had he bought new clothes while he was gone just to avoid coming home? I couldn’t remember much, but he had definitely been drenched head to toe in blood when he stormed out.
Daniel’s jaw tightened. I was doing a pretty convincing impression of a rabbit trapped in headlights as he made his way into the room, his keys clutched tightly in his fist, whitening his knuckles.
Agatha continued her work, seemingly unfazed by his return. He stopped at his desk, picking up a pile of papers to flick through before dropping them back down again. My mouth was so dry it was hard to swallow. I studied his face for any signs of emotion.
He looked tired more than anything. There were dark circles under his eyes, and he bore a vaguely haunted look as he slowly removed his jacket and slung it over the back of the chair. I dragged my gaze back to my hands, trying to look casual as Agatha began to hum under her breath. The softness of her voice eased some of the tension that sparked in the air.
“How’s the old man?” he asked gruffly, his voice flat. He looked up at Agatha. She didn’t return his gaze.
“Don’t know. You tell me,” she replied, her words clipped and a little too loud.
He stared at her a moment longer before sighing, placing both hands on the edge of the desk. He leaned forward to stare down at his feet. Uncertainty wasn’t something I associated with Daniel; he always seemed so self-assured, but right then he was anything but. A long time passed before he stood straight and picked up his jacket. I pulled in a deep breath and held it in my chest, anticipating fireworks. Instead, a cold steel flashed in his eyes when he looked at me.
“Are you okay?” He said each word carefully, his eyes searching my face. I opened my mouth to speak but my vocal chords seemed to have been cut. I nodded instead. He accepted my overzealous head movements without another word and turned, exiting the room more hurriedly than he came in.
“See,” Agatha said, once he was gone. “That wasn’t so bad.”
