Page 4 of Within Shadows
“You sure are jumpy, Maevey.” He calls me the old nickname he used when we were dating. The one I hated from the first time he said it.
“I thought I told you to stay away from me, Oliver. Stop calling me that,” I huff, brushing past him as I pick up my pace. He has no trouble keeping up and stepping in front of me to cut me off. I cross my arms, refusing to show fear even if it rears its head within me.
“We can’t even be civil? I told you that I was sorry. I gave you space, Maeve. What more do you want from me?” He throws his hands up as if I’m the problem.
“No, we can’t be civil. A shitty apology, if you can even call it that, doesn’t change anything. Keep giving me space,” I snap, backing away. Oliver is getting angry, and I’ve seen his anger too many times before.
“How much longer before you get over yourself, Maeve?” he asks, fists clenched at his sides. Oliver takes a step closer, and I step back, accidentally bumping into somebody. Warm, familiar hands steady me, gripping my upper arms. They tighten once, and I look up to see Garrett smiling down at me.
“Everything okay here? Sorry I took so long, I got held up in class. Are you ready to go?” he asks, tilting his head. I swallow hard, and for a moment I’m grateful for him stepping in, but also defeated that once again I couldn’t handle Oliver on my own.
“Hey, we’re in the middle of something here. Mind getting your hands off of her?” Oliver squares his shoulders, looking every bit of the tough guy that I know he isn’t. Garrett looks him over, almost with a cold expression bordering amusement.
“Maeve is perfectly capable of speaking for herself.” Garrett stands to his full height. His voice no longer holds the friendly warmth that he showed me today, and I nearly laugh when Oliver seems to shrink back a step.
“Goodbye, Oliver,” I say, stepping around him. Garrett puts himself between us, glaring at him as we pass. His demeanor returns to casual, and I sigh in relief until I look back to see Oliver watching me. I was going to have to deal with that another day.
“Want to talk about that?” Garrett asks.
“Nope.”
“Fair enough, want me to walk you home?” he offers. I laugh and shake my head. “You don’t have to go out of your way for me.”
“Maeve, I’m being serious. He seemed a little unstable, and I live this way, so it’s no problem.” I decide it won’t be a terrible thing after all, and we spend the short walk talking about the upcoming project we’ve already been assigned.
“I’m just saying, doing an abstract portrait of our partners is risky. I’m very sensitive, so I’m not sure who I trust to gather all of this awesomeness,” Garrett says, laughter shaking his shoulders as I scoff.
“I bet you I would nail it.”
“If this is your way of asking to be partners for the project, then I have to warn you that I’m going to outshine you. Can’t be helped.” He shrugs, and I hold my hand out. “Alright then, partner. Game on.” I grin as we shake hands, and I wave towards my house. “This is my stop, but I’ll see you in the morning for that free coffee?” I ask.
“Looking forward to it. Would it be too forward if I asked for your number?” He raises a brow, and I hold a hand out for his phone, typing my number in before handing it back.
“Have a good evening, Maeve.” He gives me an exaggerated bow as I walk away. Garrett waits until I pick up my stack of mail and am safely inside before he turns and walks back the way we came as I watch from the window above my couch. My phone dings before I finish hanging up my bag and drop my stack of mail on my coffee table when I stop to check the screen.
Unknown:It’s me, obviously. Your favorite classmate.
My cheeks hurt from just how much he has made me smile and I type out a quick reply.
Me:Right, Grayson? Or Gabriel? Maybe your name is Gale?
Before I can slip my phone back into my pocket, it dings twice, but only one message is from Garrett.
Garrett:Keep on, and your abstract is going to have giant curly nose hairs, missy.
My smile drops the moment I see Oliver’s name amongst my notifications.
Oliver:Whore.
The message is one word and still manages to sour my entire mood. I throw my phone onto the couch and storm to my kitchen, digging out a half empty bottle of whiskey from my cabinet and a cold cola from the fridge. With my mixed drink in one hand, I sprawl out on my couch and pick a new murder documentary while curling my feet up under my blanket.
By the time the movie finishes, my eyelids are heavy, and I force myself to sit up and reopen my conversation with Garrett.
Me:Do you watch any murdery shows?
Garrett:Please tell me this is a harmless question, and I didn’t seal my fate with the nose hair thing?
I smile at his response and send him a picture of the screen, showing the episode I’ve switched to.
