Page 88 of Foes & Cons
“Right, so you’re his sire? That’s big, guys.”
Sire is what fans call the person who introduced them to the show. I try to shrug but the coffin is making my shoulders numb. Charlie answers for me anyway.
“She was. Sired over a tray of chicken and chips.”
I swallow. I was certain when we’d stopped being friends, he’derased all memory of our friendship, including his entry into it. I can’t believe he remembers what he was eating that day.
“Chicken and chips?” asks Rashawn.
“Never mind,” says Charlie Chamberlain.
“Perhaps The Kinnuix brought you this weekend, Charlie,” says Rashawn, referencing a destiny-spinning demon from season three, “and we’re all grateful it did otherwise DVS would literally be dead right now.”
I roll my eyes. Not Rashawn too. Surely the Charlie Chamberlain fan club has enough members.
“Are you rolling your eyes in there?” says Charlie Chamberlain.
Does he have the gift too? I prop myself up on an elbow.
“Damon Van Schwartz coughed on a mint, and Dr Cullen here intervened with a couple of claps on his back. It wasn’t a big deal.”
“I performed the Heimlich. Do you know how hard that is?”
“Oh, youperformedit?” I do air quotes inside my coffin. “I didn’t realise it was aperformance. Your greatest yet, no doubt.”
“It’s dangerous if you don’t do it right. You could break someone’s rib.”
“And thank goodness you did it right because you came to the rescue and made yourself the hero of the convention. Excuse me if I don’t give you a standing ovation but I’m lying down in a coffin.”
“Whatever, Eliza. Maybe just stop talking to me. It’s what you’re best at.”
“Oh,” says Rashawn, (probably) nodding in his coffin. “Now we’re getting somewhere. Why’d she stop talking to you, Charlie?”
I hold my breath, waiting for Charlie to say something, but after a few seconds Rashawn’s voice floats through the darkness again.
“I’ve over-stepped. So sorry, guys. Obviously sensitive. I’m studying therapy and counselling at uni, and getting carried away,” he says. “Message received.”
I turn towards Rashawn’s voice and take a breath.
“We just . . . grew apart,” I say.
“OK, I hear you,” says Rashawn, his voice soft. “But why the beef? People who grow apart don’t snipe like you two. There’s more, isn’t there?”
“I think we both just . . . changed?” Charlie offers.
I turn and glare at Frank.
“Excuse me – I did not change, Charlie Chamberlain. I am still the lovable nerd I was when we became friends. You’re the one who changed. You’re the one who swapped theFallsfor football. And Vivian.”
“Vivian?” repeats Rashawn. “Oh, the impossibly hot redhead roller-skating one? This is making sense now.”
I turn back to Rashawn’s coffin.
“What do you mean,it’s making sense now?”
“Maybe I shouldn’t get involved, hun,” he says.
“You’ve been probing us for the last forty-five minutes; youareinvolved!” I point out.
