The bathroom doesn’t quite have the same polish as the other bathrooms. Linoleum tile instead of river stone, and striped wallpaper instead of beige paint. The Jacobs always planned to remodel, not only to make it match the upstairs, but also to expand it into a full bathroom-- especially after Connor and I had hit over 6’ the summer before Sophomore year.Not anymore.
After taking a leak, managing pretty decent aim through morning wood, I dig through the drawers and find the spare toothbrushes and travel toothpaste that Mrs. Jacobs always left for us. We forgot to clean them out when we packed up everything else. When my mouth no longer tastes like ass and I’ve finger combed my hair out of my face, I head back out.
Entering the living room, I see Nolan has joined Connor at the table and is blinking heavily at a cup of coffee.
“Works better if you drink it,” I comment when I stroll over.
Without looking, he flips me off, then reaches down to take a sip.
In the kitchen, Mildred is cooking a surprising amount of fried food for a woman who looks like she’s the spokeswoman for healthy living. It’s weird to see her at the stove, with her neat blonde hair and lavender, silk, pajamas, instead of Mrs. Jacobs in her ratty flannel bathrobe that she stole from her husband days after he bought it.
I wander over to take a look at what’s cooking, dodging around Kaleb making another pot of coffee. In several different pans, there’s the usual eggs, potatoes, bacon-- along with ham and sausage which is cool, but there’s also-- “Are you frying the bread?”
Mildred jumps, the spatula she’s holding flinging onto the counter, and she presses a hand to her chest.
“Bleeding hell,” Mildred curses, reaching over to retrieve the spatula. “Someone your size shouldn’t be that quiet… wear a bell or something.”
I bust up laughing, Connor and Kaleb joining me, while Nolan chokes on his coffee.Okay, she may look posh, but Mildred isn’t that bad-- especially for a witch.
Flipping the fried bread, she answers, “Yes. I’m making you all a proper English breakfast. I have the potatoes, breakfast meats, eggs, beans… oh shite, I need the tomatoes.”
“The what?” I yelp, as she whisks around me.
“You can’t have a proper English breakfast without broiled tomatoes,” she answers into the fridge.
Once she’s retrieved what she was looking for, she hurries over to the counter where the knives are and begins cutting thick slices. “Kaleb, could you be a dear, and watch the stove? And Donovan, could you let Callie know that if she’s hungry, breakfast is almost ready? She’s outside talking to your ghost fr… to Felix.”
I send a sharp look at Kaleb, because if Felix is hanging out outside, he’s probably at the burn spot. Kaleb nods when he catches my eye, knowing what I’m thinking.Ah fuck.Felix isn’t prone to brooding, but it’s never a good sign if he’s hanging out there.
“Yeah, I’ll get them,” I sigh, retrieving my boots from near the couch.
Once I’m all laced up, I retrieve my leather jacket from the coat closet and make my way outside. The sky isburn your retinasblue, and the air is cold enough that I can see my own breath.
Stuffing my hands into my pockets, I walk around the house toward the back, and I freeze when I see Callie and Felix. They’re standing so close that if I didn’t know it was impossible, I’d say Felix was about to kiss her.
Or is it impossible now that he can enter her dreams?The whole concept still feels too much like possession to me, and I can’t believe Kaleb suggested it. It worked this time, but I’m not stupid enough to believe Felix won’t do it again.
Something changed between them last night-- well it changed us all-- but this is different. I know Felix, and he’s never looked at a girl like he’s looking at Callie.Shit.
His hands are at his sides, while hers are wrapped around a coffee mug. He smiles down at her then says something that makes her laugh. She shakes her head, her wild mane of blonde hair shifting as she moves, then she replies with something that makes him laugh. Both of their faces are animated as they speak, talking about who the fuck knows, but they don’t move away from each other.So much for brooding.
He seems fine now, but I saw his face when he came back last night. I know that look. I’ve had that look. It’s been nearly ten years, but I’ll never forget finding my family after the fire. Picking through their charred remains for knives, swords, and anything else that would hint to the humans what they really were. The house was out in the middle of nowhere and had burned away before the humans even knew there was a fire, and I was long gone before anyone would think to look for me. I shake my head and push the memories away.
For Callie to go catatonic last night, whatever Felix saw had to be something bad. I don’t like not knowing, but I don’t want to push her for multiple reasons. One, shit seems to blow up when she’s emotional and two, if last night is any indication, Connor will do his best to beat the shit out of me for upsetting her. And I like to try to keep that kind of violence in the ring.
I’ll just have to corner Felix into telling us what we’re really dealing with.She’s one of us now, and we stick together. Anything that affects her, affects us. And anyone that wants to hurt her will have to go through us.
My hands curl into fists, as a growing rage burns through my veins. Too many people I care about have been hurt. And too many of the bastards who have hurt them are free. But guilt quickly follows right after the rage, like I swallowed a metal ball covered in spikes. I take my hands out of my pockets, slowly unfurling them from fists, and stare down at them.
Some of the bastards I know, but my hands are tied to do anything about them. Then there are those I don’t know, and the selfish asshole in me doesn’t want to. The Jacobs deserve justice, but I’ll lose my friend in the process.
I grit my teeth and lock my feelings down, because it doesn’t change anything.It is what it is.I expel a harsh breath and run a hand through my hair.Get your shit together.
Now thatIfeel like a goddamn, creepy stalker-in-training, I shout Felix and Callie’s names to gain their attention before I walk over, and the dumbass jumps away from her like I caught them about to fuck.
“Callie, your aunt is up and making what she calls ‘a traditional English breakfast’,” I call out, walking casually over and pretending I didn’t see Felix make an idiot of himself. Remembering the weird crap Mildred’s English breakfast includes, I continue, “If you’re hungry, she said it’s almost ready… though I gotta warn you, there’s baked beans, broiled tomatoes, and she’s fried the bread instead of toasting it. Shit’s weird.”
She apparently finds something funny that I don’t about bizarre British food, because she slams one hand over her mouth and begins giggling, her whole body shaking as she laughs. Felix, on the other hand, sees me, mutters something I don’t hear to Callie, then poofs away.
