Page 3

Maxine

The city’s incessant hum was a lullaby I no longer noticed, but this morning, a cacophony of construction noises had torn me from my sleep.

I jolted upright in bed, pink pajamas askew, cursing profusely at the rude awakening.

Alongside the typical sirens and distant chatter, the aggressive symphony of jackhammers, drills, and barked orders was happening right outside my window.

Squinting through the smudged pane and with half a mind to rain hellfire on whoever was responsible for that hammering, I came face to face with a pigeon perched on the scaffolding that had seemingly been erected overnight.

The scruffy, rather indignant-looking creature stared back at me like I was to blame for the racket going on out there. I scowled at it, fierce fangs on full display, though it could not have been very intimidating considering the ridiculous case of bedhead I could see in my reflection.

The pigeon cocked its head, ruffled its feathers, and then, perhaps deciding I was too much trouble to tolerate this early in the morning, flapped away with a dismissive snap of pearlescent wings.

I glowered after it before flopping back amongst the silk pillows, tugging the pale pink bed sheets up to my chin.

The yellow penny of the sun was already pinwheeling across the sky, but it was my off day and I was perfectly content to remain cocooned under the covers until noon – if not for that blasted raucous noise going on outside.

I rolled over and clamped a pillow over my head, but the drone of the jackhammer rattled around my skull. There was no escaping it, no fighting the headache already blooming behind my eyes.

In a last, desperate attempt at escapism, my mind clambered back to Leah, to the days when life was simpler, and our biggest concern was how late we could stay out before curfew chased us home.

Looking back, we were rather unruly teenagers, and no doubt contributed significantly to the many grey hairs on her poor grandfather’s head.

We had been inseparable once, two halves of a whole.

I pulled my knees to my chest under the covers. I had kept so much from her, secrets that had felt necessary at the time but now contributed to the walls between us. My undisclosed vampiric nature was one of them, a shadow over what I hoped could be rekindled.

But – god damn that awful noise – Leah was here, in the city. We had found each other again, all these years later. And that couldn’t be a coincidence. If anything, it was a sign. Maybe, with a little effort and enough time reunited, the rift between us could mend.

Maybe one day she could forgive me.

With a pillow pressed firmly to my ear, I rolled over and fumbled for my cell phone, which lay somewhere amidst the clutter on my side table. Stretching out an arm, I knocked over an empty perfume bottle and a stack of magazines in my bleary-eyed state before finally fishing my cell from the mess.

Leah had given me her number, a slip of paper like a lifeline thrown across the chasm between us. After days of deliberation, maybe it was time to use it.

Before I could think twice about what I was doing, I dialed the number, burrowing under the blankets as the dial tone chimed in my ear. It rang once, twice, before a clipped, curt voice said, “Hello?”

No time to back out now. So I sucked in a breath and grimaced as the hammering and sawing sounds started anew. “You have no idea what I’m dealing with here.”

There was a long pause on the other end of the line, before Leah’s voice came again, softer this time, “Maxine?”

“Who else?” I chirped, rolling onto my stomach and stretching out on the buoyant mattress, “Can you hear that – construction! How the hell am I supposed to hear myself think?”

Another long pause, and then, a rather unsympathetic response. “That must be very hard for you, Maxine, but what exactly do you want me to do about it?”

“I want you to say you’re free to hang out.” I wove a smile into my words, crossing my fingers and feeling rather silly about my roundabout way of asking for her time. “If you’re up to it, of course. No pressure.”

There was a hum on the other end of the line and I could almost picture her, head tilted, considering – chewing on her lip the way she did when she was distracted.

"I'd love to, really, but I'm swamped today. Got to check on some rescued seals at the aquarium. They’ve been acting up, and I need to see what all the fuss is about."

Seals? Those stinky sea dogs that prowled the harbor? It was hardly the glamorous reunion I envisioned, but something in her voice, that familiar enthusiasm, piqued my interest.

"Can I come with you?" I found myself asking before I could think better of it.

"You? Mucking around with a bunch of seals?" Leah laughed, and it was a sound that warmed me from the inside out. The full concentrated power of the sun. “I think this job might be a little beneath your ‘classy’ taste.”

"I can get my hands dirty when I need to,” I insisted – lying, of course, through my fucking teeth. I could barely tolerate touching a speck of grime, let alone any sort of dirt under my nails. "Really, I'd like to tag along."

Her laughter faded into a soft sigh, and I sensed her smile through the line. "All right, if you're sure. Meet me at the aquarium in an hour?"

"Absolutely." I kicked off the blankets and swung myself upright, bare feet brushing the plush carpet. “I’ll be there.”

“ Do not wear heels. You will regret it,” was the rather ominous warning she left me with before the line clicked off.

I stared at the cell in my hand, tangled curls tumbling over my eyes. The tumultuous knot of something in my chest loosened slightly. Leah was giving me a chance, however small, to step back into her life. There could be no fucking it up this time.

And that started with heeding her advice and ditching my darling kitten heels for the prettiest pair of pumps I owned.

As I set the phone down a sudden chill trickled down my spine, the hairs on my neck standing at attention. I glanced at the window once more, half expecting to see that pompous pigeon again, back for round two of our stare-off, but there was nothing out there but blue sky.

I crept closer to the window sill, compelled by some primal part of me that could always sense when something was amiss. I peeked through the pane, past the scaffolding, and down to the street below. The city was wide awake, the mundane bustle of morning routines unfolding before me.

But… there.

Standing incongruously still amid the rat race, was a man in a black suit and bowler hat.

His face was obscured, not quite turned toward my window, yet undeniably watching me. People streamed past him, oblivious to his presence. Like he existed in a separate slice of reality that happened to overlap with my own.

My pulse thrummed as he tilted his head slightly, a subtle acknowledgment that he saw me too. Panic fluttered in my chest and I stepped back from the window, the small distance doing little to alleviate the cold dread tunneling in my veins.

How did they find me? How did he find me? I won’t go back, I won’t –

"Get a grip, Maxine," I muttered to myself, the words straining out of me as if to scatter my fears.

After a moment to collect myself I inched forward again, compelled to confirm the reality of what I had seen – or to prove that it was just a regular businessman on his way to work and I was well and truly losing it.

When I looked again, peeking through the pane with my heart in my throat, the street below was just as busy as before, but the man in the bowler hat was gone. I scanned the crowd, searching for any sign of him, but he had vanished as mysteriously as he appeared.

I edged back from the window, tugging at a rogue strand of hair. Then I shook the fog from my head, heading to the bathroom to tame my curls. "You're seeing things, Max. It’s the stress."

But the conviction in my voice was thin and the chill under my skin would not dissipate.

The aquarium was chaos, filled to bursting with school groups and happy couples, children with ice cream dribbling down their elbows, and babies in strollers hollering at the top of their lungs.

The faint smell of salt water and detergent had my nose wrinkling and I pushed my way through the crush of bodies, clamping a lid down on my flustered nerves.

I spotted Leah near the seal exhibit, her attention focused on a particularly animated seal pup splashing around in the enclosure.

Her sweater was two sizes too big, deep green like her eyes and rolled up to her elbows, tucked into faded blue jeans.

Her hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, pushed through the gap at the back of her fraying cap.

She stood with her arms folded, her eyes darting back and forth as she traced the seal through the clear waters, oblivious to the crowds seething around her. And clearly, completely indifferent to the fact that those boots she donned were three years out of style.

My earlier bravado had dwindled to nothing and I found myself suddenly unsteady, unsure how to announce myself, contemplating walking myself out of there before she caught sight of me. But I couldn’t abandon her a second time.

Drawing a deep breath and straightening out the lapels of my jacket, I inched towards her, nudging my elbow against hers. “Hey.”

Leah turned, her slight smile guarded but genuine. "Hey. You made it."

She scanned me up and down, probably checking if I had indeed skipped the heels for more practical footwear. I showed off my pumps, twirling on the spot, and earned an eyeroll for my efforts.

"I wouldn’t miss it." I found myself stuttering slightly, awkward under her level stare. "I, uh, I wanted to see the... seals. And you."

Leah raised a brow, amusement flickering in her eyes. "Really? Since when are you interested in seals, Maxine?"

It was a fair question – one I did not have a good answer to, seeing as I had no interest in sea dogs whatsoever and thought them quite smelly.

"I am full of surprises," I managed, solemnly fixating on the sea pup so as to not have to meet her eye.

“Mhmm.” There was trepidation in her tone, like she was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Like she expected me to up and leave again – and refused to be hurt when I did.

It stung a little, even though I knew she had every right to feel that way. Guilt twisted my gut and I swallowed, swallowed all the secrets I could not share with her. I could never explain myself, could never atone.

But I could stick around, and prove to her that this time… this time things would be different.