Chapter 8

Primrose

Iscratched down a note on the page, sitting by where rain plinked against the open window, droplets catching in the bug screen, and the smell of the rainy autumn afternoon filled the apartment common space, sweet and crisp. Ava had Sooyeon and Andrea at the table with her, talking in raucous voices about a juicy scandal or another that Zachary and FIRE’s nosy-in-chief Randall had gotten their hands on together over the weekend, but I sat at the end of the couch, my feet up on the coffee table, Matthew next to me looking at something on his phone. An ice-skating tutorial played on my tablet, propped up on the coffee table against my sticker-covered water bottle, but I wasn’t even hearing it, my mind solely on the page, the soothing sensation of my fountain pen scratching against the coarse grain of the paper.

I’d started taking notes yesterday, after first contact with Giselle, while I was waiting for Ava to make contact with her. A guidebook to seduction—really more a journal of what I was doing and why, so I could just hand it over to Matthew at the end of things. So far it had just been a quick thing, jotting down notes, but there was something loaded in it this time, and I had a heavy sensation that had me taking my time writing it down.

Made contact again with the target at her morning skating session. Psychologically affecting her performance is going well—seems to be a chronic overthinker, and it’s affecting her skating. By giving her the drip dopamine release of this slow approach, I’m able to make her think just about me, which means she does better on the ice when I’m around.

Skating’s a big part of who she is. She skates better with me there, then she feels better when I’m there, and neurons that fire together wire together. It creates a self-reinforcing cycle that makes her more attached to me, and better yet, more emotionally dependent on me.

The paper-scrap technique worked differently than I’d thought. She tried giving it back to me, but she’d clearly been thinking about it the whole time. Had clearly handled it a lot, too. So I decided to speed it up a little, and I told her to take my number for herself. We’re going to do dinner soon. Tonight, I hope.

I paused at the next paragraph, something nervous turning in my stomach. Matthew looked at me.

“All done with my report for the day?” he said.

“Shush. I’m thinking.”

“I’m the only thing in this room not making noise. You’re telling me to shush?”

“Shush.”

I tapped my pen. There was something I… couldn’t put my finger on. And it wasn’t something I needed to include in a how-to report, but it had been plaguing my mind all day, and I needed to get it out, or it would haunt me through dinner with Giselle. And she’d see through it.

Had a conversation where I opened up about my invented vulnerabilities—Matthew the ‘boyfriend’ doesn’t support my interests, so I always fizzle out on them. I’m insecure about that.

Giselle’s a giver. She’ll like me more if she helps me feel better. I’m giving her this insecurities case to crack over the course of this project, and it’s going to make her invested in me.

I just… feel weird about it, I guess? I haven’t done this before. The usual approach is more straightforward. Men typically don’t want to take the time to work through my insecurities and try making me a better person, and I’m not trying for this level of intimacy most of the time.

Feels like I’m opening up a raw part of myself even if it’s just an invented insecurity. I don’t know how I feel about it.

I guess it works. I’ll consider it method acting. Give Giselle something to work with, and she’ll be putty in my hands.

My phone buzzed, and I snapped the book shut, capping up my pen before I set it back in its holder. I took the phone, and I felt a rush of satisfaction when I saw a message from an unknown number.

Hey there! It’s Giselle. Sorry for the delay, I got caught up helping my teammate practice more, and then I had to rush to class. I hope you’re doing well! I wanted to say thank you for dropping in and giving me some encouragement on the ice, it’s really appreciated.

Giselle was nervous as hell, judging from that long, rambly text. This was all working out a little too easily, weird… insecure feelings aside. Matthew glanced over at me.

“Text from the lover?”

“Seems like it.” I dropped my feet on the floor, setting the journal aside, and I showed him the text. He laughed.

“Someone’s nervous.”

“I think I gave her a heart attack when I gave her my number.”

He glanced sidelong at me. “You ever feel guilty about this?”

I shrugged, typing a message back. “Nah. Someone was going to take advantage of her sooner or later. Might as well be me.” always down to watch! you skate so beautifully.

Matthew snorted. “Might as well throw some heart emojis in there, with what that’s going to do to her.”

“You know? You’re right.” I deleted the last sentence and rewrote it. you look so beautiful skating, and I put two heart emojis on the end, different colors. Matthew laughed.

“We’re the worst,” he said, as I hit send.

“Hey, just doing our jobs.” I tossed the phone onto the table, kicking back on the couch and pushing the uncomfortable, churning feelings from earlier aside. Matthew relaxed next to me, his hands folded behind his head.

“So what’s the next step?”

“Next step is that I attend Ava’s sketchy thing,” I said, raising my voice just a bit, and Ava held a hand up from the table.

“You rock, Rosie.”

“Mm-hm. Could stand to appreciate me more.” I dropped my voice back to normal. “And then it’s dinner with the target.”

“With your pretty girlfriend.”

I flipped him off. “Hey, weird question,” I said. “Is Zachary pissed with me or something? He’s giving weird vibes lately.”

“Eh.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “He’s working on some project, I dunno what. I think he’s just stressed. Andrea was asking me last night too if Zachary hated her.”

“Still think he does,” Andrea called from the table.

“Doubt that,” I said. “Zach’s always been ready to punch anyone who looks at Andrea wrong.”

Sooyeon replied casually with a chip in her mouth. “Andrea just always thinks everyone hates her.”

Matthew shrugged. “Doesn’t help that Zachy-poo’s antsy. But I’m sure it’ll pass. Don’t think it’s lasting long.”

“Any idea what the project is?”

“Something with some bigwig, is all I know. Pretty sure he’s trying to catch some fancy gig to get Randall into the biz, a la Sar.”

“Damn, I miss Sar,” I said, dropping my feet to the floor. “Heard from him lately?”

Matthew grinned. “Funny you should ask. I was just gaming with him the other night. He’s as chill as ever.”

I elbowed him. “Sausage party, or some other reason you couldn’t invite me?”

“Ah, y’know. It was a last-minute thing. Hey man, free right now, wanna shout at each other on discord?”

“Pf.” I stretched. “Glad to see things worked out for him. Now let’s just hope Zachary gets me something good in exchange for this, and that it is just my imagination that he hates me.”

“You’d be in good company,” Andrea called from the table.

“Eh. If you’re my company, I’d prefer company that doesn’t dress like a 15-year-old grandma.”

“Hey. Fuck you.”

I stood up. “Well, Kittycat’s gonna clean up everyone’s mess here to tell me she loves me for taking this job, so I’m ditching you all here and meeting Cass. Up to Matty if you wanna tag along.”

Ava rolled her eyes. “Don’t push your luck, Rosie.”

Matthew checked his phone. “I actually need to hang soon with Randall and Zachary. Are you at the court tomorrow, Sooyeon?”

“Yeah, I’m playing. Not taking it too seriously. Why, gonna watch?”

“Passing by. Just thought I’d cheer for you on the way.”

I cringed inwardly watching the way Sooyeon smiled politely at him. “Thanks. I might even notice.”

Poor Matthew was never getting any. I didn’t know why the guy kept trying. I picked up my phone, and score, got exactly the two texts from Giselle I was hoping for.

I’m nothing that special. But I’m really glad you enjoy watching! And then after, If you still want to do dinner, I’m free after eight.

Girl had a busy schedule. Probably lots of sensitive, delicate things in the balance that I got to fuck up by breaking her. Sounded fun. I shot a text back. will be here at eight, so swing by my place and meet me here and I’ll drive!

“Have fun out there, Sunburns,” Sooyeon said as I pulled my bag down, and I stopped to give her a side-hug as I headed for the door.

“Catch you later, Susu. If I don’t see you tonight, good luck with your game tomorrow.”

“I’ll win for you.” She winked at me, and I had to keep from laughing. Even I had better game with Sooyeon than Matthew, that poor sucker.

I popped open my umbrella once I got out into the drizzling rain, and I made my way down to the Dechamps Building, sticking to the edge of where the cobblestone path met ivy-filled earth plots and tree branches hung low, leaves weighted with rain droplets plinking off them, and I checked my phone as a message pinged through from Giselle.

You don’t have to drive me anywhere

Did the princess always have to be the boss? Still, she clearly liked to pamper a girl. I’d try pushing back lightly. I’m treating you for this, I won’t make you drive!

I’m really happy to! promise

I toyed with it for a while, spinning my umbrella, before I decided to go for it. you really like to spoil me, don’t you?

She started typing, deleted it, and started again. I decided to spare her the pain and just sent another text.

all right, I’ll be your passenger princess! just swing by november whenever you’re ready and I’ll see you there

I put four heart emojis at the end this time. Giselle took a second to respond. nothing wrong with a passenger princess. easier to spoil that way yk.

I laughed, pausing at the door to Dechamps and leaning against the brick wall under the overhang, closing my umbrella. I wondered if she might have fit in with FIRE’s dynamic if she weren’t a spoiled kid Zachary had declared public enemy number one. first carrying me around like a bride and now letting me be the passenger princess. don’t treat me too well, I’ll get used to it.

hm. spoken like you want to get used to it.

All right. Things were progressing. Not bad. I should have backed off a little here, let her wonder if she’d gone too far, but I couldn’t help getting in a little something extra. doesn’t sound like the worst thing in the world… maybe you can carry me somewhere else. And then before she could respond, just to let her sit with that, gtg now, got an event happening!

She shot back a quick text. have fun! see you tonight

She’d be waiting on edge all day for that. I loved torturing someone like this. Never would have guessed it was fun with a hopeless lesbian, too.

I pushed open the door and stepped into the ugly 60s tile floor and interior brick of the Dechamps Building, and I walked down the echoey hall where rain sprinkled down over the tall windows along the hallway, and I turned at the end to where I could hear the chatter of conversation and laughter from inside K-113, the roomy lecture hall with the stairs that sloped down from the top row. The front of the hall was crowded with people gathering around the array of snacks and drinks at the table, and I fingered the envelope inside my bag as I took the steps down towards the crowds.

Cassandra was easy to spot with the description, wearing a designer top and jeans, a blonde girl just under my height with a lean figure and perfect done-up hair, standing a bit away from the crowds and looking like she was waiting for something. I came down off the last step and headed for her, walking casually, and I smiled at her when she noticed me.

“Hi there,” I said, and she raised her eyebrows.

“Hi… do I know you?”

“Mm. You do now. Ava’s friend.”

Her polite smile dropped, and she furrowed her brow. “She couldn’t come herself?”

“You know how cats are. Can’t count on them to do anything when you expect it.” I pulled the envelope from the bag, handing it over. “Here. This was misdelivered to her, but it’s got your name on it.”

She took it delicately. “Thanks, I guess. How do I know it’s good?”

“Hey, if it’s not, take it up with Ava, not me. I’m just someone who happened to be convenient.”

“Right.” She didn’t sound convinced. Seemed we had a charmer on our hands. “And your name was?”

But it wasn’t me who said it.