Waxing and Waning

Chapter 4

Jake is actually really nice. He offers to carry Riya's bag, grinning at her as she stammers, and shouldering it anyways. They chat about class and Jake does such a fantastic impression of their eccentric English teacher that Riya can't quite get the smile to drop off her face.

He takes her to the Kerouac Café, whose specialty is lattes inspired by literary icons. Jake orders her a Jane Austen—hazelnut and vanilla—and a cookie. He even pays for it, waving away her wallet.

Actually, there are fair few of her classmates here, she notices, looking around a little nervously. Howie Parker from her programming class is here, as well as Victor Purchell from her calculus class. There are a couple of senior girls from the art department, spread out over a couple tables, sketchbooks and mugs taking up all their space.

"So, uh, do you get along with your brothers?" Jake asks. He'd been telling her about his Aunt Delia, and how'd basically grown up with her as a sibling. Riya shrugs, smiling awkwardly.

"They're pretty cool, I guess," she admits. "We used to be way closer when we were kids, though."

"So, you guys don't have any of the same friends?"

"Not really." Lucy and her crowd are staples at every party Hunter and Cole throw, but that's only because Cole likes to surround himself with pretty girls.

"So, who are your friends?" There is it, the tipping point. If she admits she doesn't have any, she'll weird him out, but if she lies, there's a good chance he'll find out, which might actually be more humiliation than she can stand.

"Um—"

"I know you're friends with Lucy, right?" There's something about the way Jake's expression shifts that weirds her out a little. How would he know that? They haven't actually hung out since the seventh grade.

"I guess," she says cautiously.

"And, uh, you guys used to be friends with Abby Blythe, right?" Riya's breath catches in her throat, and suddenly, it feels like her lungs are giving out. No one's asked her about Abby for years now.

"Yeah," she says a little faintly. Her wolf, still weak, perks up a little, readying itself for a fight.

"Look, I know this is a hard topic, but about that night—"

"I don't talk about that night," she interrupts him. Her breathing comes in shallow pants. Is he some sort of true crime enthusiast? Is this what he brought her out for, to pick apart all the gory details about that night? Does he want to hear about the way her blood sprayed? About the wet crunch of her rib cage rending apart? Does he want to know about the absolute horror and pure fear on Abby's face during her last moment alive?

"I'm sorry to ask, seriously, but you know my dad's been gone for a few months now, and I think he's been researching that—"

Riya stands abruptly, visions blurring with tears. She grabs her bag blindly and rushes out, gasping hard to try and fill her deflated lungs. She doesn't even know what direction she's going in. Shaking, she pulls her phone out of her bag, clumsily pressing on Hunter's contact. Thankfully, he picks up on the first ring.

"Hey, what happened?" Hunter asks. Riya swallows wetly, trying to quell the tears.

"Um, I need you to come pick me up."

"I thought you were getting coffee with some guy?" She sniffles, taking a careful, deep breath. "Are you done?"

"I am, yeah," she says, voice a little steadier. "I'll send you my location."

"I'll be there in ten." Hunter's not the most eloquent person, and he's not exactly affectionate, but she can count on him for anything. Plus, he probably won't make her talk about it. Most likely, he'll pick her up, ask her if she wants ice cream or something, and let her wallow in peace and safety.