Clarke blinks a few times. "Oh. Okay." His eyes seem slightly unfocused. He doesn't reach for his phone. Allen reluctantly puts it back down on the table.
James frowns slightly. "Clarke?" He doesn't respond. "Ralph?"
"Hmmm?" Clarke's head swings towards James. "Yeah?"
"Hey, Seb?" James calls, his eyes not leaving Clarke's face, "can you come here for a minute?"
Seb stumbles into the living room, clutching something small in his hand. He has massive dark circles under his eyes. He wipes the sleep from his face. "Yeah?"
He stops when he sees James' expression. He strides over to Clarke, slams whatever he was holding on the coffee table, and crouches in front of him, studying his face.
I pick up what Seb put down. It's his Phero-block bottle. He's circled something on the warning label.
Clinically proven protection against incompatible pheromones. FOR INFORMATION: Full effectiveness against scent-matched pheromones has not been demonstrated in a laboratory environment. See our website for more information.
I look away, my nostrils flaring, my mind roiling.
Clarke's phone buzzes again, breaking my train of thought. And then buzzes again.
My jaw twitches.
That fucking phone. If nobody else is going to put that fucking thing on silent, I will.
I pick it up to unlock it with his passcode—and freeze. The messages from his mom scroll across the top of the alerts.
Mom
I just had coffee with that lovely young lady I met the other morning. I like her.
11.47am
Mom
Hope you don't mind - I gave her your number.
11.48am
Mom
Oh - just FYI, the poor thing was **very** worried about something. Be gentle with her.
11.49am
I look up. My heart is racing. I realize my jaw is hanging loose. "Ralph?" My voice is oddly high.
"Huh?"
"You're going to want to read these messages. And, uh, I think we might owe your Mom big time."
She'll call soon. She will. She will. She will.
I've been repeating it in my head like a mantra for the last ten minutes. After Clarke or Ralph or whatever he wants to go by now damn near knocked me over to grab his phone, Seb managed to bundle him off into the shower.
They're arguing in the bathroom. I can't hear exactly what they are saying. James is scrambling, searching for clean pants. Allen is pacing.
"Everyone's phone working? Batteries charged? Ringers switched on?" It's not quite a bark, but it's closer to one than I meant it to be.
James scoffs. "If it's changed in the three minutes since you checked them all…"
