Rend (Riven 2)

Yeah, he was definitely worried.

Want me to go to the shop?

Sid was working at a stationery shop last I knew. It would be easy to go see if she was there on my lunch break.

Yeah maybe. OK yeah.

Will do.

That night, I dreamed of us—me, Grin, and Sid. We were kids again, fifteen, sixteen, and we were running through Washington Square Park, scattering pigeons and tourists in our wake. We ran and ran, chasing each other around the fountain like we were playing tag. But then, as the sun set, I couldn’t tell who was running away and who was chasing. The park expanded, turned into Central Park. Then we were all running.

I couldn’t see what we were running from, but as we crested a grassy hill, Sid in the lead, she turned around and held an arm out to stop us from coming any closer. And in her face was terror.

* * *

—

Sid wasn’t there. According to the woman I spoke to at the stationery shop, she had quit in March, and she didn’t know anything more. I texted Sid at the number I had for her, but heard nothing back.

I had the dream again three times over the next week. Each time, Sid was afraid of something, and each time the hill grew steeper, our ascent more laborious, the distance between Sid and Grin and me vaster.

Chapter 6

The week after I saw Rhys play live for the first time—the week after he introduced me as his guy—he told me he wanted to take me out on a proper date. When I squinted at him, he flinched and ran a nervous hand over his gold-stubbled jaw. His eyes darted around. I felt cynical and unkind and said of course I’d go on a date with him. His eyes lit up and I let the warmth of that wash through me, clearing away a skepticism that had mostly been based in disbelief, not distaste.

“I want to pick you up at your house and take you to dinner. Someplace that needs a reservation.”

I gaped at him for a minute, but his words settled comfortably into my stomach. A reservation meant planning for the future, meant a space in the world with our names on it. The more time I spent with Rhys, the more time I wanted to spend with him, so I nodded and gave him my address, instructing him to text me when he got there because the doorbell didn’t work.

I was dashing around until the last minute after a delay at work and an infelicitous train downtown colluded to have me rushing in the door only ten minutes before Rhys was set to arrive. I jerked my clothes on over wet skin and scrubbed at my wet hair with a towel, all the while glancing at my phone every thirty seconds to make sure I didn’t miss Rhys’s text and leave him standing on my front stoop.

As I pulled on my socks, though, I heard Rhys’s voice, and then my roommate Cid’s voice answering. I opened the bathroom door to find Rhys sitting on my bed—which, sure, was the couch, but it still sent a pang through me—and Cid perching on the arm.

“Hey,” Rhys said, smiling when he saw me. “You look great.”

“I— You— Thanks, you too,” I said, swiping at my wet hair and steam-limp clothes.

Cid saluted us and disappeared into his bedroom.

“Your front door was open,” Rhys said. “Not very safe.” But he said it absently, eyes taking in the shithole apartment.

“Um, should we go?”

Rhys stood and from behind his back, like a magician, he pulled a bouquet of flowers.

“For me?” I said stupidly. “I . . . you don’t need to do that.” I shook my head. Cut flowers belonged in a world I’d never set foot in. “It’s a waste,” I heard myself say, the echo of something I sensed I had heard someone else say once. I cringed as soon as it was out of my mouth, because it was such a mean, ungrateful thing to say.

Rhys stepped close, flowers in hand, and pressed his thumb to my lips.

“Nope. Nothing for you is a waste,” he said, voice low and rough. “You deserve everything.”

* * *

—

Rhys was coming home on Friday night, and when I told Imari earlier in the week, she made me agree to leave early on Friday so I could make sure I was home to meet him. I agreed, not telling her that he wouldn’t be home until eight or nine, because I’d decided that I was going to take Caleb’s suggestion. I was going to bite the bullet and call Mona. And then I was going to make Rhys’s favorite meal for dinner on Friday night, and it was going to be perfect.

When I thought about my first dates with Rhys, it was clear what I had responded to so strongly in him.