Page 130 of To Have and to Stalk
Wow.
Lithie folded her arms, settling back into the couch. “Good answer,” she said, sounding reluctant.
“You don’t know me,” Calder said, leaning forward, elbows on his knees, making a triangle with his fingers between his legs, “so I know you have no reason to trust me.”
“Duh,” Olly said.
“But I don’t take the trust that Shay is giving me for granted,” he said. “My mother died at the hands of an abuser. I would rather die than become that person.”
Silence settled.
My mother died because of me. My brother went to jail for me. I’ve done much worse things than stalking. I’m not a good person.
I stared at Calder, willing him to look at me. Calder had leaned forward, so the light shining on his face now only lit up his back. His face was shadowed, his body chiaroscuro.
“Well, fuck,” Lithie said. “You played the dead mom card. You win.”
Calder leaned back, grinning, tension melting from his body. He settled onto the ottoman, as if it were the most comfortable thing in the world, as if he wasn’t balancing on furniture my sister ordered from the kids’ section.
“I don’t think Shay should be involved with me,” he said.
“Well, glad we can agree on that,” Lithie said.
“Especially since she has a grant to finish,” Eames said, and Olly nodded emphatically.
Calder shot me a look as the conversation devolved into the topic of me once again not believing in myself.
“Hey, wait,” I said. How did this turn around on me?
Tension dissipated. Their questions shifted from the“Give me a reason not to kill you and bury your body”and into the“What’s your favorite Swift song?”variety.
“Dear reader,” Eames said, repeating Calder’s answer, reluctant appreciation in his voice. “Deep cut.”
A few more innocuous questions followed, like who he would choose between Matthew Macfadyen’s Darcy and Colin Firth’s Darcy.
Then, when Stroop jumped onto Calder’s lap and started purring, it all but sealed he wasn’t a monster.
“This isn’t over,” Lithie said, shaking Calder’s hand as he stood to leave.
“And don’t keep her out late,” Eames said. “She has a grant to win.”
“Shut up.”
I walked Calder to the door. I wanted to give him a kiss, but all three of them stared at us just feet away. It felt like my junior high dance, teachers waiting to pounce on anything.
“What are they talking about? What grant?”
I played with the smoothness of his nail. “Oh, just some grant they think I should apply for.”
“You don’t want it?”
“Itwouldbe pretty cool,” I said, shrugging a shoulder. “I could run my own lab, ask my own questions. I’m pretty much guaranteed job security.”
“That sounds amazing, Shay,” he said. “Why wouldn’t you want that?”
“I would rather not have it than have it and have to give it up.” I focused on the white crescent moon in his nail bed. “I never know when I’m going to get sick. It doesn’t feel right…like I’m taking something away from someone.”
Calder gripped my chin, dragging my gaze away from his thumb.
