Page 54 of Nine-Tenths

"Nice," she says. "Rule three?"

"Rule three."

And we leave it at that.

Chapter Sixteen

"Youcalledme," Gemma says instead of 'hello'. "Is the world ending?"

"See, this is why Idon't," I grumble, fumbling to get the phone on the counter before I drop it in the dishwater. I poke at it with a sudsy finger to turn on the speaker.

"Hold on," Gemma says, and then she's on speakerphone, too. I can hear Stuart in the background shouting at Mum to come to the living room.

"Oh, Christ, I'm hanging up."

"No you're not!" Stuart says. "Mum!Mo leanbh's on the phone."

"Only Mum gets to call me that." I point a soapy knife at my brother's voice. "I didn’t call for a family roast. Gem, can we talk for a minute without the peanut gallery?"

"I've got to get the chicken out of the oven, anyway. Be right back,mo leanbh," Mum says, andgreat, by all means, give Stuart more ammunition. I groan.

Gemma clicks off speaker. "What's the what?"

"Auuugh." I’m not sure what to say now that I have her alone. I check the door behind me—still good. "I just… so, I'm seeing someone."

"No, really?" Gemma deadpans.

"Fuck off. I think… I really like him. Like, maybe love him?"

"And you're scared shitless?" she asks kindly.

"That's just it," I admit, rinsing a wine glass. "I’m not. But not being scared is scaring the crap out of me."

"What do you want me to do about it?" she laughs. "Besides telling you to stop worrying yourself into knots."

"I'm not."

"You are. When did you last speak to Dr. Chen?"

My confidence curdles. I haven't talked with my therapist since Beanevolence got torched. I've been riding too high on the amazing coffee and wonderful dragon kisses to make a new set of appointments. I try not to be flaky. I don't see her every week, like I used to right after Dad died, in that first terrible lockdown summer when the whole world went to shit, but we still do tune-ups via video chat.

"Ah," I say, caught out.

"So item number one: appointment," Gemma orders.

"Yes," I grumble. Ihategiving any of my family any reason to boss me around. They think just because I'm a big fat mental health wreck that I'm still a child. I want to bebetterthan that, to get all my own adulting right, no chiding or babying.

"Are you writing it down?"

"I'm writing it down!" I scribble it on the white-board stuck to the fridge.

"Good. So," she prompts when I don't add anything else. "You love him?"

I cut my eyes back to the front door in a panic, but no, Dav hasn't snuck in. Thank god. My life is already my own personal Coffee Shop AU, I don't need any other tropes to tiptoe in.

"Yeah, but what if he’s secretly regretting everything and he's gonna ghost me? What if he sees what a trash goblin I am—"

"Whoa," Gemma cuts me off. "Where is this coming from?"

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