When he gets halfway across the lawn, he pivots on his foot and takes a few steps backwards.
“Don’t forget to be in touch about the repairs, Miller. Why don’t you send me an e-mail?” He winks as he says it, turning my previous boundary into an inside joke. If I had to guess, I’d say Hudson likes e-mailing with me. I wonder if my name on his screen gave him the same reaction that I get—that flutter behind my ribs.
I’m going to get whiplash. One moment, Hudson is joking with me, maybe even flirting with me, and the next, he’s reminding me he’s dating someone new, and I have no idea what to think.
“Sure. Whatever. I’ll e-mail you,” I say, my tone flat, almost icy.
Poppy and I retreat into the house, and I peek through the crack in the curtain beside the door to make sure the neighbours are dispersing.
After the commotion, neither of us feels like cooking dinner, so we order a couple of burgers from Jack’s and eat them on the couch, watching one of Poppy’s favourite horror films with the sound off. Always with the sound off and subtitles on. The soundtrack is what makes the jump scares so scary, so I tell her if she wants me to watch with her, this is how it needs to be. She doesn’t mind—she’s seen this one a million times and it lets us talk through it anyways.
I steer the conversation away from anything that could lead us to discuss Hudson. Over the course of the night, I decide that him dating someone new is a good thing for both of us. It won’t leave anything open for misinterpretation or let anyone get any ideas of us potentially rekindling things. We will work on the arts centre together, and Hudson will help me repair my house before my parents come home, and that’s it.
Later, Poppy is asleep next to me on the air mattress beside my twin bed, but I can’t sleep. The image of the fire breaking out in the kitchen replays in my mind. Not because it was terrifying—although it was—it was the sickening feeling that Mom and Dad are going to find out.
Ever since being back in their house, I’ve reverted to my teenage self. The version of me who could never get anything right. I could never be perfect enough. I was always making mistakes. I wasn’tClaire-bear.
The only time I saw something remotely resembling pride on my dad’s face was when I told him I got into the engineering program. Despite that, they still see me as the teenager who wasn’t driven, who wanted to be a free spirit, who goofed off with Hudson at every opportunity. This whole situation with the fire won’t help.
Dad will find out that Hudson was here and, although he was the one who put out the fire, the story he’ll hear is how it looked like Hudson was flirting with me on the lawn.
I have to fix this before my dad has the chance to even form an opinion about it. I pick up my phone and open my e-mail app, finding Hudson’s address in my contacts. My gaze lingers on it for a moment before clicking it.
He was out with Emma tonight. He might have even taken her back to his place. The e-mail could come through while they’re together, and I can’t help but feel the tiniest bit of satisfaction at that.Play nice, I remind myself.Hudson doesn’t even have to help you.
I type out the most polite and respectful e-mail I can.
Hudson,
Thank you for your help with the unfortunate situation at my house tonight, and for your offer to help with the repairs. Please send me an estimate at your earliest convenience so we can begin the work ASAP.
Regards,
Wren Miller
P.S. I would love to make a donation to pay it forward. Please send me Cole’s information so I can send him some money for his boot drive fundraiser (if I’m not too late).
I had to. I can’t not get a jab in there. After his e-mails tallying the score against me, I have to fight back. I hit send and place my phone back down on my nightstand. Sleep still evades me, and I lie in bed, staring up at the dark ceiling, listening to Poppy’s rhythmic breathing.
A few moments later, my room lights up with the soft glow of my phone screen when a notification comes in. Igrab my phone quickly, and the noise makes Poppy shift and roll over, the air mattress squeaking beneath her.
There’s an e-mail reply from Hudson already.
Miller,
I don’t even get past the introduction before my heart rolls forward in my chest. There’s a certain familiarity in the way he’s reverted to using my last name, and a warmth blooms within me thinking about the way it sounded on his lips earlier this evening.
No estimate needed. If you pay for materials, I’ll do the work. Call it an act of charity.
Best,
Landry
P.S. I’ve attached some links to good fire extinguishers and instructions for how to use them. They aren’t complicated and could come in handy if you ever try your hand at making pizza again.
Sure enough, there is a list of links and an attached PDF document with instructions—and pictures—explaining how to effectively use a fire extinguisher. I grind my molars together as I click it closed.
P.P.S. Pizza: 1 Wren: 0
