chapter twenty-six

chase

Meghan and I didn’t have to travel far for our assignment that afternoon—Grissom Elementary’s garden club was planting a small garden on the grounds of the old school, and Sarah asked us to come outside to document the occasion.

She teared up during her interview, taking almost a full minute’s pause to collect herself. I shut the camera off, shooting Meghan an uncertain glance. Sarah wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “I’m so sorry for getting emotional. It’s just been a tough semester, and this little garden… well, it just means a lot. It’s the first time I’ve felt a sliver of hope in a little while.”

“Don’t apologize for having emotions,” Meghan said, lowering her phone. She wasn’t recording anymore, either.

I nodded in agreement. “A tornado ripped apart your school. I think you’re allowed to have the occasional breakdown.”

Sarah forced out a small chuckle, dabbing at her eyes with the collar of her Grissom t-shirt. “Thank you,” she said, taking a couple of deep breaths. She shook her hands out like she was resetting herself before letting us know she was ready to continue.

As we wrapped up, I felt Meghan’s eyes on me. We hadn’t had any sort of conversation about what happened between us the night before. Besides a few typo-riddled, rambling text messages about a sigil decoder, I hadn’t heard from her since the meeting that morning.

But I knew she had to be thinking about it as much as I was.

As we made our way down the winding path toward the front of the building, I spotted a four-leaf clover near the edge of the sidewalk and bent over to pluck it from the grass. I’d always had a knack for spotting them without really trying—a useless skill I inherited from my dad. It always amused Meghan, though, who kept every clover I ever gave her, pressed between the pages of an old, heavy dictionary, something she inherited from her dad.

She’d probably thrown them out by now. Maybe even used them in a spell to hex me.

But when I silently extended my hand to give it to her, a small grin tugged at the corners of her mouth as she said, “I’ll add it to the collection.”

I tried not to react, but I was fighting a smile even harder than she was. Moments like this with Meghan made me feel like I did when we first began dating in college. The rush of excitement when she revealed her inner nerd, the disbelief that I’d somehow won over the cute emo girl in my ethics class—this all felt very familiar.

“Speaking of collections,” I said, pausing in front of the steps leading up to the school, “when did you say you’re going to get to the Historical Society?”

Meghan stepped up onto the first stair and turned around. “Cadence said I could stop by on Thursday afternoon,” she answered with a sigh. “I’d planned to take that day off, but I’m too eager to get my hands on that sigil decoder.”

“Why were you going to take Thursday off?”

Meghan hesitated for a second, her hand trailing along the railing. "It’s my mom’s birthday," she said, her voice softer than before.

I swallowed, feeling like I should have remembered that. “Oh.” I adjusted the camera bag on my shoulder. “Do you want me to pick it up so you can still take the day off? I can drop it off at your apartment.”

With her feet on the bottom step, her eyes were level with mine. “No, I can do it. I think… I think I’m just going to try to work like normal that day.”

“That’s good,” I said with a nod. “It’s probably better to stay busy than to, you know, sit around and think about it too much.”

I caught a flicker of something on Meghan’s face, an emotion I couldn’t quite pinpoint, as she looked down at her feet on that step. I winced, realizing my comment might have come out a little insensitive.

“I’m sorry,” I rushed out. “I just meant it might be healthier to keep yourself distracted.”

I had thought that explanation made it better, but Meghan lifted her chin to give me a subtle scowl. “Staying home and thinking about it can be healthy, too. Crying is healthy. I mean, what’d you just tell Sarah?” She forced out a little laugh, but she wasn’t amused.

“I know, I know. You’re right. Wrong choice of words,” I said, wanting to explain myself even more, but I knew I’d only dig the hole I was standing in even deeper. I reached for her arm, sliding my hand down her wrist until I was holding her hand. She squeezed my fingers, sending a wave of relief through my body. “However you choose to spend that day is okay. Obviously. It’s not up to me.”

Christ, stop talking.

Her grip tightened even more. “I want to spend it decoding sigils.”

“Okay.” I lifted my free hand, placing it on her hip. Before I could talk myself out of it, I stepped closer and whispered, “Nerd.” Then I brushed my lips against hers—a brief, feather-light kiss, followed by a second, deeper one. That kiss lingered a little longer, making the tension and awkwardness from a moment ago melt away.

We pulled apart when a couple kids came into view, chasing an empty topsoil bag that blew across the school lawn. Meghan let out a giggle as we watched one of them tackle it. “They’re so cute.”

“Have you changed your mind about never wanting kids?”

She turned to me in horror. “Oh God, no. I said they’re cute, not that I wanted one.”

I laughed. Having kids was something Meghan and I discussed years ago. Or rather, the choice to never, ever become parents. We liked our lazy weekends too much, and neither of us had the patience to deal with dirty diapers and Cheerio-covered car seats.

Meghan started to turn to go up the steps, and I followed her through the doors of the building. “Hey,” she said, turning to me outside the double doors leading into the studio. “I thought of something that will give me an edge on Xander in this contest, especially now that it looks like he’s not going to get to do this Weston story.”

“Yeah?”

“Let’s give people a sneak peek of what they can expect at the Woodvale Comic Con, maybe even talk to a couple of the comic book artists and authors who will be—” She came to an abrupt halt when she saw the way I was wincing at her. “What is it?”

I was about to disappoint her. Again. “I kind of… gave Xander the exclusive on the Con. I’m talking to him and Jill at Sean’s store in just a little bit, actually.”

“Tell me you’re joking.”

“Unfortunately, I’m not. Xander’s a closet Starlight fan and he approached me. Wouldn’t it be a conflict of interest if I report on myself, anyway?”

Meghan let out an annoyed sigh. “I guess. I just don’t know how I’m supposed to win this contest. He’s the better journalist, anyway, so I’m not sure why I bother trying to keep up.”

I blinked, caught off guard by this crack in her confidence that seemed to come out of nowhere. “Hey, whoa—Xander’s good, but so are you. Look at the impact your Lenny story had.”

Meghan rolled her eyes. “Yeah, if by ‘impact’ you mean people hated it.”

“Come on, don’t worry about the opinions of a few idiots on Facebook with their collective five brain cells. You can’t focus on the loudest complainers while ignoring everyone who gave you accolades for that story.”

“You say that like it’s easy.”

“Seems like it takes more effort to zero in on the bad stuff and miss everything else. You’re not doing yourself any favors.”

Shit. Talking like this with Meghan felt like tiptoeing through a minefield, and judging from the look in her eyes, I’d just jumped on one with both feet. I’d meant to be encouraging, not condescending, but I’d missed the mark. Again.

“Thanks, Dr. Phil. All better now.”

I opened my mouth to apologize once more, but to my relief, Meghan’s lips curled upward in a small, reluctant smile, easing the knot in my chest.

Just down the hall, a young, blonde teacher emerged from a classroom holding a set of keys and an iced coffee. Meghan returned her wave before turning to me to say, “I’d better go write. Good luck with Xander and Jill.”

“Thanks,” I said, wanting to kiss her again. I probably would have, too, if it weren’t for that teacher walking past us down the hallway. I settled for a quick goodbye, watching her hips swing from side to side as she walked up the stairs.

She’s a challenge , I thought, enjoying the way she smirked at me as she slipped around the corner of the stairwell, but she’s worth it.

**

“This is Ethan Killian?” Jill turned her phone screen around to face me, her eyes wide with delight. “You guys didn’t mention he was ruggedly handsome.”

Xander and I exchanged looks over the row of comic books between us. “Oh, did I not mention that?” Xander raised an eyebrow at Jill, making her grin. “Must’ve slipped my mind.”

“You guys will have a half hour with him the day of the con,” I said, “before he starts signing autographs. Is that enough?”

Jill’s grin widened. “Oh, a half hour will be plenty.”

“Keep your pants on,” Xander said, crossing his arms, his eyes trailing down her body. She caught him, too, but it didn’t seem to bother her. The two of them locked eyes, making me feel like I was intruding on something I wasn’t meant to be a part of.

I turned and watched Sean, who was ringing up the sole customer in the store. Jill’s cameraman was setting up his gear near the back of the store, preparing to use the Justice League mural on the exposed brick wall as a backdrop for our interview.

“You know what?” Jill pulled out a compact mirror to check her hair. “I just realized none of us mentioned this feature to Silas.”

“Fuck Silas,” Xander said.

Sean told his customer to have a good day and joined us in the middle of the store. “Are you guys talking about your CEO?”

“Silas Brown? Yeah,” I answered. I’d vented about him to Sean a couple of times, but I hadn’t really mentioned him by name. I usually stuck to “our dumbass CEO.”

“That dude was nosing around here the other day,” Sean said, pressing a comic book back into place in the bin in front of him. He had our full attention now. “With John Weston, who owns like half the buildings on this block. Weston’s been trying to buy me out for years, but he’s been relentless about it lately. Wants to knock down that wall and extend the unit next door.”

“Cool, now what about Silas?” Xander nodded him along, clearly anxious for him to get to the point.

“Weston’s had your CEO over there in the empty unit with him a couple of times, and yesterday they stood out on the sidewalk and stared at me like a couple of fucking weirdo vultures.”

“Did you hear anything they said?” I asked.

“Not a lot, just something about offices.”

Xander squinted at him. “Offices for what?”

“Maybe they’re turning it into one of those trendy co-working spaces?” Jillian suggested with a hint of optimism no one else in our group shared. “You know, hipster-style. Rent by the hour, free kombucha on tap. They’re huge in big cities.”

“This is Woodvale, Indiana we’re talkin’ about here.” I raised an eyebrow at her. “The majority of the people in this town can’t pronounce kombucha.”

“True,” she conceded with a laugh.

“Or maybe he’s planning to downgrade the news network again,” Xander said, his tone the complete opposite of Jillian’s. “Which could mean layoffs.”

The three of us exchanged looks of concern, and Sean piped in with, “Sounds like Silas is running that place into the ground.”

None of us disagreed.