Freeks(80)
“I just need some time to think,” I said. “The past twenty-four hours have been maddening, and I haven’t slept much.”
“No, of course. This has to be so much for you to take in.” He took a step back toward the door. “I’ll leave you alone, then.”
“Thank you.”
He paused before he left. “I’ll see you tomorrow, though?”
I nodded. “I think I would like that.”
He offered me a small smile before leaving. As soon as he was gone, I started crying, and I wasn’t even completely sure why. Blossom’s death, the faded adrenaline, the monster lurking in the words, his status as a werewolf. It was all too much.
I went back to my room and collapsed on my bed. A few minutes later, I heard the front door creak open, and footsteps quietly padded toward me. I could smell the incense on her clothes, so I knew it was my mom before she said anything.
She climbed into bed beside me, wrapping her arms around me and holding me close like she had when I was a little girl.
“I love you, qamari,” she whispered.
“I love you, Mom,” I said between sniffles.
“Is there anything I can help with?”
“I don’t know.” I wiped at my eyes. “Everything is just too much.”
“Don’t worry about it now.” She stroked my hair. “Get some sleep, and we will find a way to sort this all out in the morning. Everything always looks better in the light of day.”
50. the sun
My mom was wrong.
When I woke up, the sunlight stung my eyes. My entire body ached like I’d been through a train wreck, and it took all my effort to pull myself out of bed. Mom was still sleeping, but she’d moved over to her own bed sometime in the night.
I went into the kitchen to brew myself a pot of coffee and to attempt to come up with a plan about what to do next. It wasn’t even seven in the morning yet, and through the window above the sink, I saw Roxie sitting at the picnic table smoking a cigarette.
I poured two cups of coffee—one for me and one for her—and opened the door to the Winnebago and nearly tripped over Gabe. He was curled up on the ground, using a packing blanket for covers, and he sat up with a start when I almost stepped on him.
“Your boyfriend spent the night sleeping outside your door,” Roxie commented dryly. “I haven’t decided if that’s romantic or creepy yet.” She flicked her ashes. “Maybe both.”
“Sorry,” Gabe said as he clambered to his feet. “I just wanted to make sure you were safe. I thought if the thing decided to come back, I wanted to be here.”
“Gabe!” I gasped. “You could’ve gotten yourself killed!”
“I’m okay,” he insisted with a subtle curve at the edge of his lips.
Last night, he’d been subdued and apologetic, but he seemed more relaxed now, probably in relief that we’d survived and I didn’t hate him. The glimmer had returned to his eyes, and there was a grace to his long limbs as he brushed away the grass stuck to his bare skin.
I set one of my cups of coffee on the step so I could help him, my fingers brushing against his abs, and I was surprised by how warm his skin felt after spending the night sleeping in the grass. I think I’d read somewhere that werewolves ran hot, and that explained the constant fiery temperature of his flesh.
When I went to pick a blade of grass from his chest just above his heart, Gabe put his hand over mine and gently held it in place. His heart pounded quickly beneath the palm of my hand, beating the same way it had when we laid together the night before last.
It was a quiet but powerful reminder that Gabe was still Gabe.
“But since you’re okay, I should probably get home and put some clothes on,” he said, with a light teasing in his voice.
“I suppose that you probably should,” I agreed half-heartedly.
When he spoke again, all joking had disappeared. “I was thinking that you should come over and talk to my parents. They know more about all of … my legacy, especially my mom, and she might have some insight about what’s happening here.”
“Sure.” I nodded, ignoring how uneasy the thought of talking to his mom about all of this made me feel.
“You wanna come over around eleven?” he suggested, and I nodded again. “Good. I’ll see you soon, then.”
He let go of my hand, then briefly but wonderfully pressed his lips to mine. He walked off, presumably toward his car parked in the fairground parking lot, and offered Roxie an awkward wave as he did.
I grabbed the coffee and went over to where Roxie was stubbing out her cigarette. The hood of her sweatshirt was pulled up, but her bright blond hair poked out around the edges. Based on the neon color of the sweatshirt, I guessed that she’d borrowed it from Hutch. Her eyes were red from crying, and her cheeks were uncharacteristically puffy.
“How are you holding up?” I asked as I handed her a mug.
“Oh, I’ve had better mornings.” She sipped her coffee and took a deep breath. “I think I always knew Blossom wasn’t coming back.”
“Really?” I asked in surprise. “You seemed the most convinced that everything was fine.”
Whenever I mentioned the possibility that Blossom might be missing, Roxie was always quick to come up with a reasonable explanation about where Blossom might be.