And finally, I tell him about how Heloise, Percy, and I had broken into Nathaniel Price’s mansion and stolen a device to enter the Void. But that, despite our best efforts, we still hadn’t worked out how to use it.
Harrisford listens to all of this patiently, and by the time I’ve finished speaking, my words spilling over themselves in my hurry, I suddenly realize that he and I have reached across the table and are holding each other’s hands.
The tenth course has finished. Degustation is over. And my “date” with Harrisford (the potential murderer) has come crashing to an end.
41
Harrisford
We walk out of the restaurant slowly. My pulse is racing and my palms are clammy because tonight has been perfect and I really do not want it to be over.
I hadn’t realized how far Gwendolynne and her friends had got in the investigation. While I was moping around, worrying about Nathaniel’s threats, she was busy sneaking into clandestine meetings, breaking into high-security mansions, and uncovering unethical, underhanded agreements between Magecorp and the medical establishment. In all honesty, Gwendolynne deserves to come first—she puts me to shame, quite frankly.
I turn to face her. “That was…” I start, but then stop. The degustation was delightful, but in truth it was an appalling lack of food. Every course was artfully arranged, the flavors delicate and nuanced, the ingredients fresh and seasonal. But put all together, it just wasn’t very…well, filling.
She stares at me, and then her lips curve into a smile. “Puny? Minuscule?”
I break into an embarrassed laugh. “Infinitesimal.”
She laughs too, and relief washes through me. And then she’sgrabbing my arm and tugging me along the street, saying, “Come on, Briggs. Let me show you my version of going out to dinner.”
Twenty minutes later, we’re standing on a street corner, devouring greasy burgers. Honestly, I’m impressed at how quickly she can cram that thing into her delectable mouth.
“This is amazing,” she says, her voice muffled by the food.
“Agreed,” I say, though I’m not talking about the burgers.
When we’ve finished, we scrunch up our wrappers and toss them into the rubbish bin that’s right outside the burger joint. She’s still in the baggy shirt and jeans she wore to the exam, her lips all slick with burger grease, and I think that she is perfect.
“I’m sorry you had to do all that on your own,” I say. “Investigate the surges, I mean. Truly, I am.”
She sighs. “It’s okay. You were right.” She scrunches up her nose. “Magecorpisevil. Whether or not they’re causing the explosions, they’re still exploiting people.”
“Yeah.” My tone is morose. “You can see why I don’t want to work for them.”
Gwendolynne is still silent, regarding me. She reaches up and touches a finger to one corner of my mouth.
At first, I flinch—my instinct is to duck away. But I hold my ground. The pad of her finger is scalding hot against my skin. My lips part, and I actually hear the breath hitching in her throat.
“You have something,” she whispers. “On your lip.”
I stand still as a statue as she swipes it away. I too am holding my breath. “Is it all gone?”
“No.” She keeps dabbing at my lip, and eventually her movements slow, as though she’s contemplating something.
“Is something the matter?” I say, alarmed, because her expression has suddenly shuttered.
“Is it strange for you? Standing out here, on the street, eating a burger from a greasy spoon? It’s hardly what you’re used to.”
“I can honestly say that it was the best burger I’ve ever tasted. Why do you ask?”
“Because…” She takes a step back, folding her arms tightly, then flashes me a look. “I sometimes feel like you judge me. You know, for being poor and all.”
I frown. Her words sting, deep within my chest. And it’s because I know that she’s not entirely wrong. I was a snotty little snob for most of my time at Seamere—but over the past two years, ever since I’d started noticing Gwendolynne in a way that was not strictly as an academic rival, I’ve been trying to slowly dismantle those prejudices. And while I might not always get it right…Iamtrying.
“Listen.” I run my hand through my hair, trying to figure out how best to articulate my thoughts. “I might have done…Once. But I don’t think that anymore. The truth is, Gwendolynne, I find everything about you utterly perfect. I wouldn’t have you any other way.”
Her gaze slides off to the side, and then she shrugs. “I guess it’s mainly Percy, then, who judges me.”
