Chapter 10

Erica

Desserts After Dark isn't as busy as I expect it to be, though I suppose we're here at a weird time. It isn't dinner time any more, and it's also too early for anyone to be coming here because they've had too much to drink.

Except me, anyway.

I take a sip of my slushie and sit back in my chair, letting out a sigh. "Thank you for bringing me here."

"You're welcome," Rupert says. "How are you feeling?"

"Okay. I think the shift worked off the majority of the fuzziness."

"It is supposed to," he points out. "One of the many advantages of being a shifter."

"I'm not a shifter, I'm a mythical being," I remind him.

"Yes, yes. I know. You're a least weasel, not a weasel shifter. Though I still don't know the difference."

I shrug and grab one of the chips lingering on the plate between us and think about the best way to answer while I eat it. "It's a Greek thing."

"Helpful."

"I don't know enough about history to be sure, but there's a folktale from Greece that says that the first least weasel was a scorned bride, after she turned, she went around destroying the dresses of other brides because of her jealousy. Apparently, we're also the mortal enemies of basilisks and are able to kill them with our smell. Though never having met a basilisk, I can't verify that one."

"So what you're saying is that your powers are extreme jealousy and extreme stench?"

I choke on my own laughter. "Something like that. I've never had cause for either one."

"But your magic is basically the same as mine, right?"

"As far as I know, but maybe I have latent powers I don't know about."

"I guess we just need to find you a basilisk to find out."

I snort. "I'd rather not, the myths also say that the least weasel dies while killing the basilisk."

"Ah, a fair reason to avoid them."

"Mmhmm." I eat another chip. "So you've got to quiz me about something. Is it my turn to ask a question?"

"That's generally how conversations work," he says.

"What happened between us?" The moment the question is out of my mouth, silence descends and he looks a little uncomfortable.

"I was mad at you," he says.

"Yes, I know. But why? I've always wondered and never really understood what happened."

He takes a deep breath. "You remember the bouncy ball incident?"

I blink a couple of times. "You're not seriously still mad about that?" I ask, unable to keep my surprise out of my voice.

"It was my favourite bouncy ball," he says.

"That was eight years ago," I point out. "And it was an accident."

"You bounced it straight into the river and then laughed."

I open my mouth to argue, trying not to think about how ridiculous that sounds. "What was I supposed to do? I couldn't swim, so it's not like I could shift and go in after it."

"I was convinced you did that on purpose."

"You have to know that's not true," I say. "I'd never have done that to you."

Indecision wars on his face and I can tell he's trying to decide whether his current feelings, or those from when he was ten, are going to win out. "Logically, I can see how it would be unlikely that you'd lose my bouncy ball on purpose."

"I really didn't. I felt awful for weeks, and then you started acting funny towards me. I thought it was because we were getting to puberty and you thought it was weird that I was a girl."

"What? No. That was never weird."

I shrug. "What else was I supposed to think?"

He sighs and rubs a hand over his face. "It sounds so dumb when I say it now. I was just mad about the bouncy ball, and then it kept escalating. You were annoyed about the time I ruined your painting..."

"Ah, so you were the one responsible. I always knew it but could never prove it."

He grimaces. "Yes. It was an accident, and I would have come clean if it hadn't been yours, but I didn't want you to know that because I thought you'd believe I'd done it on purpose."

"I probably would have at the time." I pull my slushie towards me and take a sip. "I still blamed you."

"I know. And then I blamed you for the time I got caught with Missy behind the lockers."

I snort. "That wasn't me. Missy? Really? You know that she used to go around pulling little kids' pigtails, right?"

"I did not."

"You could have better taste in who you're making out with behind the lockers."

"I don't do it any more," he says quickly. "It was just that one time."

I raise an eyebrow.

"All right, it was more than one time."

"And you seriously blamed me for getting caught?" I ask. "Everyone knew about that spot, including the teachers. It was probably just chance that they spotted you."

"I know that now. I'm guessing it wasn't your fault that my cricket whites ended up pink either?"

"Definitely not, though that's hilarious."

"It wouldn't come out at all," he says. "I had to take them to the dry cleaner down from school. Do you remember the one?"

"Oh, it was run by that witch who insisted that pointy hats were going to come back into fashion?"

"That's the one. She said someone had used a spell to turn them pink. She had to do some kind of counter-curse on it to get them white again. Cost me almost as much as just buying new ones would have done."

"And you thought I did that? That's a real failure in logic considering I can't do spells. Unless you thought it was some kind of least weasel trickery."

He gives me an apologetic smile. "I think it was more that I thought you had a witch friend put the spell on for you."

"Ah, I suppose that would make sense. But no, I didn't do that. However, it was me who put a whoopee cushion under your seat in band."

To my surprise, he laughs. "So you're the reason I got nicknamed the farting trombone by our music teacher?"

"That's very unprofessional of him."

"Well, yes, I can see that now, but at the time, I was mostly just annoyed that's what I was called."

I grimace. "Sorry about that."

He shrugs. "It's not like I never did anything to you. Painting aside because that one genuinely was an accident. But I cut your hair that time."

"Oh, yes, I remember that. You were sitting behind me and then I heard the snip . I always knew that one was you though, you didn't hide it very well." I take a deep breath. "Okay, so I have another question."

"That's two in a row, are you sure?" he teases.

"You can ask one of your own first, if you want."

"Hmmm, the only one I can think of is asking what's on your mind."

"Smooth," I murmur. "Okay, so, where does this leave us now?" I meet his gaze, trying to work out how he feels about me now that the childhood water is under the bridge. At least in theory. I want to leave all of that behind, especially if it means that the two of us can move on, but I don't want to assume anything.

"Where do you want it to leave us?"

"I'm not really sure," I admit. "I guess I'm not as frustrated with you as I used to be."

"Mmm, same. I might even be able to forgive you for the bouncy ball incident."

I snort. "You should definitely forgive me for the bouncy ball incident, it was an accident, and a long time ago." A weird churning starts within me as I consider the next words that I want to say. "I've enjoyed being able to spend time with you over the past few weeks."

He meets my gaze, an earnestness there I haven't seen in years. "Same."

"And I don't want to go back to being strangers." The words hang between us, and I feel as if I'm waiting for an answer that will change everything, even if I know that isn't actually accurate. It doesn't matter what he says right now, my word will keep on turning regardless.

"I don't want that either," he says. "It's a shame that all of this happened at the end of the academy year."

"Yeah, didn't you move away?"

"Only to Bradford, it's not that far away," he says. "But we can message?"

"I'd like that." I smile at him and lean back in my seat, satisfied that we've finally managed to turn a corner in our friendship and get it back on track after years of animosity. The sensible part of me says that I should have just been able to move on and forget about him completely, but that doesn't feel right. Rupert was such an important part of my childhood, and it's always felt as if something was missing, and now I know what.

And maybe this way, I'll be able to have my childhood best friend back in my life, which is something I've barely been able to accept that I want, even if the feeling deep within me screams that it's true.

I just have to hope it doesn't end as painfully as the first time the two of us were friends, I don't think I could bear that being the case now that we've gotten to a better place.