Page 207 of Ice Darling
The other is from Renthrow.
Renthrow:Do you have time today?
I scramble to my knees and call him back. As the line rings, I clear my throat and do a few vocal exercises to make my voice as bright as possible.
The line connects.
“Hey,” Renthrow says.
My veins, my bones, my verymarrowsigh in relief at the sound of his voice. It’s like I’d been on pins and needles for so long that I’d gotten used to the tension. But with one word, I unravel.
“Hey.” My voice sounds breathless.
“Are you okay?”
If he’d asked me that yesterday, I probably would have said no. But after seeing Gwen’s video, making up with my mother, and getting that random but necessary apology from Ray, a lot’s happened in the past twenty-four hours. It feels like a brand new world.
“Yeah. I’m okay.” I scoot out of bed, and the crumpled tissues fall to the floor like tree leaves in autumn. “Where are you? At the stadium?”
“Actually…I’m at your front door.”
“What!” I yell. My gaze lands on the mirror on the dresser, and I cringe. My hair is sticking out at every angle, my eyesare dark and red-rimmed from last night, and my entire face is puffy.
“Give me five minutes. No, ten minutes!” I crash around my room. “Actually, make that fifteen minutes!”
I hang up on Renthrow before he can give his agreement and head to the bathroom for the fastest shower of my life. Then I rip several strands of my hair out by rushing with my hair routine before speeding through a makeup routine that involves a hefty dose of under-eye concealer.
By the time I’ve made myself presentable, fifteen minutes have passed, and I panic. Throwing my apartment door open, I half-expect to find empty space and Renthrow long gone. But he’s there, back-straight, eyes soft, staring at me like I’m the first streak of light after a long, restless night.
“Hi,” I say.
“Hey,” he answers in that deep voice. “Can I come in?”
My heart hammers like a broken connecting rod in a client’s car. I step back so he can pass. Renthrow walks in and takes a seat in the sofa and instantly makes it look like a child’s toy. His big body and calm presence fill the room.
I want to stare and stare at him.
But, with a serious face, he pats the couch beside him, indicating that I should sit.
My legs shake as I walk over to the couch and take a seat a healthy distance away. If I sit too close to him, I’ll want to throw my arms around him and spill my guts out. Before I do, I need to hear what he came to say.
“How have you been?” he asks gently.
I shake my head and squeeze out the word ‘fine’. But the truth is that I haven’t been fine. Without him and Gordie around, I’ve been the opposite of fine. It’s driven me absolutely crazy to be away from him, to know thatIdrove him away.
A beat of silence passes as we both look at each other, drinking each other in.
I turn away shakily. “Actually, Renthrow, I?—”
“The thing is Cordelia?—”
Our words overlap.
Renthrow smiles at me. “You first.”
“No, you,” I insist, shaking my head.
He nods and in a somber tone admits, “There’s something I need to tell you.”
