When Songbirds Fly | Bellamy Blake

Chapter Seventy-Six: The Anniversary

'Asshole.'

Eyes narrowing, I shift up the bed a little, crossing my legs in front of me. 'Excuse you?'

Murphy sends me a dazzling smile, his steel blue eyes twinkling with their usual mischief. A look of infuriating innocence comes across his face and he points to the lettered squares that pattern the board between us. Sure enough, one of the lines forms the word "Asshole" in block capitals. 'Ten points,' he simpers.

'Hell no. The rules say "no expletives". That's a fancy word for "swears".'

'It's an anatomical term!' he contradicts, gesturing in vague frustration to the board once more.

It takes far too much energy to stifle my laughter. 'No, it's fucking not.'

Groaning impatiently, he snatches the rules pamphlet up from the sheets. 'Okay, well, how about "Jerk", huh? I can make a list on why that's—'

'A verb?'

I only properly learned that term about a week ago and have been slipping it into as many of these games as I can. Murphy is probably sick of it by now but he says nothing. He leans back against the pillows with a huff. 'Fine. "Key" on a double letter: eleven points. Your turn.'

'"Queen": fourteen points. How're you holding up?'

'Fine. Kinda sad we're back to the soup. We had a good couple years, right? "Quality": nineteen points.'

Examining the letters laid out on a small stand in the palm of my hand, I pick out a few of them and set them out. 'I guess so. Y'know, I can think of a couple people who'd be happy to see you come back, even if they don't want to admit it. "Noisily" on a triple word: thirty points. Ha!'

'Shit,' he whispers under his breath, looking over his letters with what almost seems like resentment. 'You got something special planned for tonight?'

Looking up sharply, I squint suspiciously across at him. 'How did you know?'

'You're wearing your nice dress,' he says, nodding to the smooth, black fabric that hugs my malnourished form, falling to just above my knees. 'You only wear it for important stuff 'cause you don't want to ruin it. So, what's happening tonight? Hot date?' At this, he raises his eyebrows suggestively.

I respond with a smirk of my own. 'The hottest. It's actually our anniversary today. Five years.'

Grinning, he stretches his legs out across the bed. The tip of his foot lightly tickles my shin and I put on a scowl, swatting it away. 'Damn, congratulations!'

'You almost sound surprised.'

'Not surprised,' he begins with more feigned innocence, 'just pleasantly... surprised. You got me. Not in a bad way, though. It's just... nice to see you this happy.'

His response catches me off guard at first. Chuckling, I take hold of his hand and give it a squeeze. He doesn't pull away. 'It's nice to see you happy, too. It's only for these hang-outs, sure, but we're gonna get there soon. Maybe, if you—'

'No, I'm not coming to have dinner with everyone and, no, I'm not talking to Emori.'

'You're both struggling, John. Please, just reach out to her once. She'll appreciate it,' I chide gently.

Still, he remains adamant, 'She hates me.'

My hold on his hand tightens slightly in a gesture of support and I sigh, 'Nobody hates you. The past is history, okay? Look, at least make Green Balls with me tomorrow? It's the last of our honey and corn starch. After that, we're stuck with algae soup until we get out of this dump.'