Page 8 of Goldilocks

He heard her long exhale. “You never forget when you make plans with Connor.”

“I don’t make plans with Connor,” Sam denied. “They just come get me when they’re doing something and bring me along.”

“Sure.”

“Mary, I’m sorry. Where are you? Lunch is on me.”

“We’re in the cafe next to the bookshop. And lunch is already on Eric.”

Sam hung up and hurried across campus to find a pouting Mary and an Eric who was fiddling with his drink, spinning it in endless circles on the table. A plain grey bomber hid Eric’s tattoos. His jeans were a pale-wash blue, the ends tucked into boots with a heel that drummed hard on the ground.

“Hey,” Sam greeted. “Thanks for waiting for—”

Eric jumped to his feet.

“Me…” Sam trailed off, caught off guard by Eric’s sudden movement.

Mary glanced up from her phone and looked between the two of them. She waited a second. “Would you both sit down? Don’t be so awkward.”

Sam pulled out the empty chair at the table and sat. Eric stayed standing. “What would you like to drink? Coffee? Tea?”

“Sam likes the cappuccinos here. Double shot with one pump of hazelnut,” Mary said, her gaze returning to her phone. “Grab a menu for him too.”

Eric walked to the counter, and Sam watched him till he got in line, then brought his attention back to Mary. He didn’t need her to say anything; he felt her anger vibrating in the air.

“Mary…” Sam pressed his lips together. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to forget.”

“Stop that right now,” Mary cut across him. Her eyes flashed violence as they snapped from the phone screen to his face. “Idon’t want to be something in your life that stresses you out, alright? I’m upset I was forgotten about again, and I’ll be over it in two minutes. I’m only here to chaperone anyway since I figured you’d ditch Eric if I didn’t.”

“I wouldn’t just ditch him,” Sam denied. Just forget that he made plans with him.

Mary gave him a look, and Sam swallowed hard.

“I didn’t mean to forget, alright? I’m busy, and it slipped my mind. It isn’t fair to attack me about that.”

“I’m not attacking you, Sam. That’s just your conscience. I love and forgive you.”

“I’m really feeling the love and forgiveness in your sarcasm.”

Eric returned to the two of them glaring at each other. He placed Sam’s coffee and the menu in front of him and sat back down. “How are classes going?” Eric broke the silence.

Did he have to ask about that? An irrational bout of irritation flushed Sam’s skin. Mary’s glare softened, and her toe touched against the side of his shoe. Sam caught himself, realising he’d cast anangrylook right at Eric, who’d tensed in his seat, looking at Sam like he was something to be feared.

Sam needed to get it together.

“Classes are fine. I’m just busy. Midterms are all out now, so I’m working my way through them.” Which, just like last semester, stressed him to high heaven. Sam lifted the coffee, taking a sip of the frothed milk and caffeine. Just as he managed to relax his shoulders, a familiar voice cut through the air behind him.

“The fishermen’s table is this one, is it?” Fionn passed close enough to Sam that the brown leather bag hanging from his shoulder brushed against the back of his head.

As if he’d said something funny, Fionn’s posse laughed. The only one not to crack up was the new guy. His eyes, an emotionless, flat black, looked assessingly from Sam to Fionn. He tilted his head, birdlike. Predatory.

Mary’s glare was lethal.

Sam caught her wrist. “Don’t,” he warned her.

That made Fionn cackle, and the group crowded into a booth on the other side of the cafe.

Mary glared after them, and Sam kept a hold of her wrist. She always hated his passivity, and Sam had heard from her enough times that he’d get picked on less if he would just stick up for himself. Sam never considered himself a doormat or an easy target, not even now. He just didn’t see the point of engaging.