Sidetracked: Part 1 Read online

  What does that mean?

  When I told Rose, she accused me of being a sugar baby. But I don’t feel like a sugar baby. Sure, he pays for me every time we go out, but he’s rich and knows I’m not. He’s never just handed me money before, and I’ve certainly never done favors in exchange for cash.

  Even if he likes spending money on me or whatever, it’s not like that. Our relationship is more like...

  Well, I don’t know.

  He’s my sponsor.

  Maybe he feels responsible for me and thought this would help me out. Or maybe he just felt bad because he was too busy to come, and it was an innocent gesture—a somewhat misguided but otherwise innocent gesture like signing me up for Human-Immortal Affairs’ secret program.

  I touch the River Sapphire and sigh.

  He did tell me to have fun with the money, though. Night said it was fine too, and Rose even challenged me to spend it all today.

  If it’s fine, I may as well give it a go.

  An hour later, I leave a boutique having spent just over two hundred dollars on designer clothing. Of course, I understand on a fundamental level that designer clothing doesn’t make one person better than anyone else, but I might feel a little more comparable to immortals if I wear this sort of thing. Maybe I won’t feel so inadequate when I hang out with Ice or Night and her friends.

  How pathetic...

  I step out into the mall, and a body appears in my path.

  Their head turns, but neither of us move quickly enough to avoid the other. I smack right into their side and promptly trip over them. I land on my hands and knees, horrified as my brand-new clothing scatters on the floor around me.

  “I am so sorry,” I stammer.

  Without moving from the floor, I rush to collect my things, stuffing my purse into a shopping bag to expedite the process. The person I ran into recovers his balance and kneels down to assist. As we both reach for the same article of clothing, I accidentally touch his hand and recoil in embarrassment.

  “My bad,” he mumbles. He grabs the crumpled fabric before offering me his free hand. “Need help up?”

  I’ve managed to collect everything except for that blouse, so I accept his help, and he drops my hand the moment I’m upright. Holding both shopping bags in one arm, I smooth my shirt and brush my hair out of my face before thanking him.

  But my voice catches in my throat.

  He’s an immortal. A young man with short, orange hair and wide amber eyes. He looks to be roughly the same age as Ice, but he’s a few inches shorter and lacks Ice’s lean, athletic physique. Even so, he’s rather cute. No surprise there, considering he’s an immortal. But something about the golden fire immortal eyes gets me every time.

  “Sorry about that.” He scratches the back of his neck. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

  “It’s fine.”

  He returns the final top, and I take a moment to fix my jumbled shopping bag situation. As I do, our eyes meet again. He glances away immediately and shoves his hands in his pockets.

  The silence is heavy and awkward. This is a mess.

  “I was spacing out too,” I say, “so...”

  He frowns, his gaze drifting toward the floor. “Still...”

  “I’m alright. No harm done. See?”

  He looks up again, unshadowing his eyes and the greyish bags beneath them. Weird. Ice didn’t develop the faintest of dark circles after a full week with little rest.

  Does this guy ever sleep?

  He tips his head, brows furrowed. “Have we met? I feel like I’ve seen you before, but I’m not sure...”

  I scan his features a second time. Short, messy, orange hair. A tired, round face with tired, round eyes, and a faint scar that cuts through his left eyebrow. His appearance is rather distinctive, but I don’t recognize him. Though, I’m not great at remembering faces.

  When I shrug and admit as much, he sighs, and his shoulders deflate as though he expected my uncertainty. I avert my eyes, dig my purse out of the shopping bag, and shift my weight from one foot to the other.

  Why is he standing around and dragging this out?

  What is it with men lately?

  I give up.

  “Do you go to RCC?” I ask. He shakes his head, but... If all immortals in Riverview went to the same high school— “Do you know Night? Night Monroe?”

  For a moment, it looks like he wants to say something, but he hesitates. His eyes flick away for an instant. Then he frowns and studies me more carefully. Maybe we have met somewhere. Maybe he’s friends with someone who goes to RCC, and he spent some time on campus, and that’s how he recognized me.

  Before I get the chance to ask, he sighs and looks away once more. “Nah. Guess I was wrong. Sorry for wasting your time.”

  “Oh? Alright...”

  He dips his head in a quick farewell and walks past me, in the opposite direction of wherever he was headed before we collided. I glance over my shoulder and watch him slip into a secondhand bookstore a few doors down.

  Okay...

  I walk the other way.

  Clear across the mall, I find a shoe store, where I spend a good half hour trying on expensive boots and staring at myself in the mirror. I eventually purchase a pair of short, lace-up leather boots and leave, but I can’t stop thinking about it.

  There was something off about that guy.

  He thought he recognized me?

  He stopped to talk even though I’m obviously human?

  I try to forget. To distract myself by shopping.

  I spend more money. I buy a cute bra and silk pajamas—a lacy camisole and matching shorts. Then I get myself a giant peanut butter cookie and sit at a bench outside the mall doors. I scroll down FaceSpace. I text Rose. I play a stupid idle game.

  But it’s not enough.

  It was nothing. It was dumb. I tripped over someone, and he helped me up off the floor. That’s it. The fact we were both socially incompetent was an unfortunate coincidence, right?

  Who was he?

  Even as Night’s blue sedan pulls up to the curb, I can’t get it out of my mind. So I don’t let the car fall quiet.

  “How’d your meeting go?”

  She smiles. “It went well. We agreed to buy half of the start-up’s stock and connect them with a few outside investors.”

  “What kind of company is it?”

  “A small eco-tech group hoping to develop high-efficiency portable saltwater filtration systems. We invest in and acquire a lot of small, independent companies like that.”

  A beat of silence. I mess with the River Sapphire’s chain.

  What caught that guy so off guard?

  He’s an immortal, but he clearly wasn’t paying attention to where he was going. And then he hung around like he wanted to chat despite his obvious discomfort.

  Why bother?

  “Anyway,” she says with a sigh, “I’m exhausted. Is CoffeeStar alright with you?”

  “Yeah, that’s fine.”

  That’s right...

  When I asked if he knew her, he hesitated. He paused. And he looked at— Well, my chest, I guess. Or the River Sapphire.

  Does he know what it is?

  Finally, I break down and ask Night. I explain what happened and describe the man’s appearance and behavior. How he reacted when I mentioned her name. When I ask if he sounds familiar, she sucks in a breath.

  “Hm... That does remind me of someone I knew as a child.” Her voice is neutral but careful, and her grip on the steering wheel shifts slightly. “We haven’t spoken in years, but it could be James Reid.”

  James Reid?

  “I asked, and he said he doesn’t know you.”

  “Perhaps I’m mistaken, but, if it was James, he lied.” She flashes an uneasy smile, but her eyes remain focused on the road ahead. “Though, I suppose I can’t blame him for wanting to forget about me.”

  twenty-four

  BEFORE WE LEFT COFFEESTAR, I asked Night if we could stop by her house. One: I forgot
both my portable phone charger and the dress I wore yesterday in her bedroom. Two: I want to ask Ice if he knows James Reid.

  She parks her car on the curb outside and grabs her phone from the center console. “I’ll wait here. I’m sure Ice will want to see you off, so take your time.”

  “Thanks.”

  Upon stepping into the house, I find Ice at the dining table, his phone in one hand and a half-eaten rice cake in the other. He sets the phone down before he looks up to greet me.

  “So,” he says, flashing an easy smile, “did you spend it all?”

  “Aah—”

  That’s what you’re leading with?

  But I laugh. “Most of it. I bought some new clothes.”

  “Good for you.”

  “Thanks again. You really didn’t have to do that for me.”

  “I wanted to,” he says mildly. “Are you headed home now?”

  “Yeah, Night will take me. I just need to grab a couple things, but there’s something I wanted to ask you first.”

  “Oh?” He sets his rice cake on a napkin and offers me his full attention. “Did something happen while you were out?”

  I shake my head. “Not really, but I tripped over some guy and threw my stuff all over the floor.”

  “Whoops,” he says with a laugh.

  “Yeah, it was...super awkward.”

  He seems to find the story rather amusing, which is fair, until I get to the point and mention that Night suggested the man I ran into could have been someone she knew. The instant I say the name James Reid, Ice’s laughter stops. His expression mellows, growing more inquisitive.

  “A ginger, right? He’s rather pudgy; has a scar on his face?”

  Ah...

  I wouldn’t say he was pudgy, but— I mean, he did have a scar over one eye. My teeth click together, but I nod and try to keep my expression level.

  “Hm.” He smiles again, but it’s unpleasant. “Well, if Night thinks you saw James Reid, I’m sure that’s the case. How funny.”

  “You know him, then?”

  He shrugs, uninterested. “Haven’t seen him in years, but I suppose you could say that.”

  Night’s answer was similarly vague. Why?

  “Who is he?”

  Ice sucks a breath through his teeth and leans back in his chair, one hand on the nape of his neck. I consider sitting too—as I worry I’m in for a long story—but I second-guess myself.

  I don’t move.

  “James is what you might call defective,” he says. Blue eyes flick in my direction, but he quickly refocuses on the ceiling. “He can’t morph. He’s physically weak. Slow. Cowardly. No real skills or talents worth mentioning. In my eyes, he’s hardly an immortal at all. James Reid is an utter waste of space.”

  Wow. Um...

  He obviously doesn’t think much of James. I know next to nothing about him, and I honestly can’t say he left me with a stellar first impression, but he didn’t have to stop and help. He can’t be that bad. Besides, I assume he was born defective.

  And calling anyone a waste of space is too harsh. Why does he feel so strongly about defective immortals—and this James guy in particular?

  I do not ask. I do not want to know.

  He sighs. The fleeting darkness fades from his eyes, and he picks up his rice cake to take a bite. “In any case, James is nothing to worry about. Nothing but a coward, as I said.”

  I wasn’t worried before, and I’m not sure I should even bring it up now, but—

  “Well, um, I could have imagined it, but he might have noticed the River Sapphire. We talked for a minute, and he thought he recognized me, so...”

  “Wow.” He laughs, still holding the rice cake to his lips. “How pathetic.”

  Clearing my throat, I step away from the table. “Right. Anyway, Night’s waiting for me out front. I should grab my stuff from her room and go.”

  I turn to leave through the den, but I hear a chair slide against the hardwood behind me as Ice stands, so I stop. I listen. I bite the inside of my cheek.

  “Hey, you mind if I take you home instead?” he asks.

  “Oh, that’s fine.” I glance over my shoulder—he hasn’t moved from beside the table. “My bags are still in Night’s car, though.”

  He smiles. “I’ll grab them for you. Meet me in the garage.”

  I nod, and he leaves through the front door.

  My phone charger is exactly where I thought I left it, on the floor at the foot of the bed. I secure it in my purse, quickly change out of Night’s clothes and back into mine, and check the time—6:17PM.

  Then I head to the garage. The car is already unlocked, so I let myself in.

  When Ice returns with my bags, he notes I have quite the haul. I deny it, embarrassed for one stupid reason or another, and he laughs. But he says nothing as he arranges the bags in the backseat. Still nothing as he sits in the driver’s seat and turns the key in the ignition. The engine purrs, and a button on his key fob starts the garage door opening.

  “Did you get a lot of work done today?” I ask.

  “I finished what I started.”

  “Oh, that’s good.”

  After what he had to say about James, I was looking forward to commiserating with Night on the way home. But I didn’t want to be rude. So, here I am, staring at my lap while Ice drives quietly.

  He even turned on the radio. The soft classic rock drifting from the speakers only exemplifies the uncomfortable atmosphere.

  This sucks. Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything.

  I glance out the window as we near Oakwood Cottages.

  Going home won’t be so bad, though. I’m ready to lie down on the couch and talk with Rose. There are so many things I can’t say, but I can at least tell her what I bought.

  Ice parks in the usual space in front of my cottage.

  “You had fun, right?” he asks.

  I meet his gaze, but I can’t figure out exactly what he’s asking. Did I have fun at Riverside yesterday? During the sleepover with Night? Going shopping with the money he gave me?

  But I smile. “Yep. Thanks for the ride.”

  “Good,” he says with a smile of his own. “I’ll call you later.”

  “Okay.”

  I take that as my cue to leave.

  After piling the bags from the backseat in my arms, I make my way down the sidewalk. I set everything on the concrete landing outside the door. I glance back and wave at Ice as he pulls out of the parking space.

  Then I unlock the door and head inside.

  “THREE HUNDRED SEVENTY dollars?” Rose gasps. “And you said he just handed you this money?”

  I laugh and upend the laundry basket onto my bed. The clothes are still warm to the touch.

  “Yeah, that’s basically how it happened.”

  “Wow. I’m so jealous. Seriously.”

  I’m not so sure you should be. There are some strings attached.

  “What all did you buy?” she asks. “Just clothes?”

  I look over the pile on my bed. “I mean... I got a couple outfits. A nice dress. Some boots. And then lunch. Shopping for expensive clothes kind of stresses me out, to be honest.”

  “Even when it’s not your money?” she asks with a laugh.

  “That money could pay my phone bill for eight months.”

  She laughs harder. “And you’re sure this guy isn’t a sugar daddy?”

  “He’s not,” I insist, fighting laughter as I pick up the plum cocktail dress I spent nearly one hundred dollars on. I hang it and a layered muslin sundress in my closet. “Ice is just a little strange. And it’s not like he doesn’t have the money to spare.”

  “Well, obviously.”

  I set the phone to speaker and drop it on the bed, leaving me free to fold the rest of the clothes.

  “I already told you; I don’t care if he has money.”

  “It doesn’t hurt, though, right?”

  I frown. I’ve never been poor to the point of struggling, but someone w
ho can give away hundreds of dollars on a whim is living on a whole other level of existence. I have a hard time even comprehending such a comfortable life.

  But Ice has that life, and he’s sharing a piece of it with me.

  “Isn’t it weird, though?” I ask. “How am I supposed to feel about that kind of thing?”

  “I don’t know. Grateful?” After another laugh, her voice grows surprisingly mild. “Some guys only know how to show affection by throwing money and gifts at people, you know. Have you ever heard of love languages?”

  “Is that a real thing?”

  “No idea.”

  While she rambles on about love language theory and some personality test she took online during a psychology class, my phone’s text tone goes off on the bed behind me. I place the last article of clothing in my dresser and close the drawer.

  Rose is still going on about words of affirmation through the speaker as I open the messaging app. The text came from Ice. He usually doesn’t message me first, but—

  If you see James Reid again,

  do not speak with him.

  What do you mean?

  I watch the read indicator appear under my message. He starts typing, but the typing icon soon vanishes, and an incoming call overtakes my phone screen instead.

  Ugh... Seriously?

  “I’m getting another call. Give me a minute.”

  “—A’ight.”

  I answer Ice’s call, dropping Rose’s, and hold the phone to my ear. “Hello?”

  “I’m serious,” he says, his voice tinged with annoyance. “Stay away from James Reid. He’s bad news.”

  Bad news? What? Why is this coming up again?

  “What are you even talking about?” I ask, my own frustration bubbling to the surface. “I tripped over the guy at the mall. I don’t know him, and he doesn’t know anything about me. It’s not like we exchanged phone numbers. He doesn’t even know my name.”

  A beat of silence. “Jayde—”

  No. This is stupid.

  “Two hours ago, you told me James was nobody. You laughed and went off like he’s nothing, and now he’s suddenly bad news? I don’t get it. You’re not making any sense.”