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Thoughts of the other world occupied Sam as he drove home. Mainly thoughts of a golden-tailed merman and a bath that Sam would never forget the rest of his life. He lightly ran his hand over the back of his neck, feeling the intent of teeth like a claim in his skin. That had been a claiming, Sam knew. And everything else that happened in the bath…Well, if Goldilocks suggested another trip, Sam would have no objections. He tugged at his hair, glad it was long enough that he could hide the mark beneath it.

The sky seemed to darken as Sam pulled into the driveway of his house. He parked in his usual spot and slowly climbed out of the car, eyeing the windows for any sign of movement. Nothing caught his attention.

Sam stepped up to the front door, his heart picking up as he lifted his hand to turn the knob. At the last second, he dropped it, a fine tremble in his hand. He pivoted on his heel and walked around to the side of the house. He pushed open the garden gate, wincing at the loud screech of metal hinges. He kept forgetting to bring back the WD40 from his boat.

The twin apple trees rustled in a light breeze. His dad had mentioned just the other day that the tree had flowered early, and as Sam approached, he could see that of those flowers, several were already dead, replaced with the beginnings of an apple. Robins flew close, landing on nearby branches as Sam touched one of the green buds. Sam never ate the apples; they were too sour for that, but Oisín used to gather the overabundance of dropped apples and bring them to Mary’s house. Sam used to enjoy the sweet pies Mary’s mom cooked as much as his dad did.

The boldest robin perched on the same branch Sam touched. It twisted its head, peering at Sam with a curious black eye.

“I’ll get you some seeds,” Sam promised. He turned to the side door, which led into the kitchen and saw the remains of a gutted loaf of soaked bread littering the path. “Or not.” He snorted. Through the kitchen window, Sam could see his dad bent over a book on the kitchen table. He breathed out in relief as his dad turned the page, eyes scanning the content with interest. A bowl of fresh fruit was set next to him, and as he watched, his dad picked a raspberry from it and put it into his mouth.

Eric and Ivan, Sam realised. He always bought grapes and bananas. He avoided raspberries since he himself was allergic. They made his fingers itch even if he did his best not to touch them when he rinsed them down.

Sam pushed open the side door—

***

Sam blinked awake, sore and confused. His hip throbbed in sharp, intrusive pain. Pain that required immediate remedying. Sam stumbled his way to his feet, turning in confusion to orient himself.

Where was he?

Darkness surrounded him. Sam groaned as he knocked his head. He reached up, feeling a slope. He looked down at his feet, searching the floor until he saw the small square of light leading out of the attic.

***

The lecture ended, and Sam stared blankly at his empty notebook. He’d tried to focus. Tried to write things down, but he was wrecked and could barely keep his eyes open. Clearly, the late night followed by his early morning adventure with Goldilocks had been too taxing for him.

Sam flipped his notebook closed and placed it into his bag. He waited until most of the crowd was gone before getting to his feet, gritting his teeth at the painful stiffness in his hip. He needed more painkillers. Walking down the steps to the front of the lecture hall slowly, he ignored Fionn and his piercing look and limped toward the exit. Fionn seemed to have decided to leave Sam alone after Mary’s outburst. He still glared. And his friend, the one who had punched Sam, watched. Eyes cold and blank.

“Sam,” Professor Moore called.

Repressing a sigh, Sam stopped. “Sir?”

“I just want to follow up,” Moore said as he packed away his supplies. “I sent the email with the extension form, but I haven’t received anything back from you.”

“Oh.” Sam blinked. “Right. I didn’t get the chance to check it yet.”

“The original due date for extensions is tomorrow, so be sure to fill it out and send it to me before the end of the day. And, were the slides easier to read today? I used Arial. The internet told me that was the most suitable of what I had available. For the submission, use whatever font you find easiest.” Moore spoke quickly, jumping from sentence to sentence. “I’m going back and uploading more accessible slides for study. It’s my project for this weekend. I plan to get it all done before Monday.”

“I didn’t mean to make you do all that extra work, sir.”

“You spoke to me about it, but I am sure there are others who have struggled with my slides and simply didn’t voice it. It was a lesson to me.” Moore cast him a warm smile. “Now, as I said. Get me that form by the end of the day. I need to submit the paperwork on my end.”

“I’ll do that. Thank you again.”

Fionn and his mean-looking friend were gone when Professor Moore let him go. Despite the forecast warmth of the day, as soon as Sam stepped outside into the breeze, he wished he’d brought an extra sweater. That led to thinking about the furs now on his boat, which led to fantasising about going straight there and collapsing. Sam settled for the nearest bench.

Sam took out his phone, the thing finally charged, and opened his emails. There were a lot. Sam clicked the search bar, slowly typed in Moore and clicked on the email that came up. The form was black against white. Tiny on his phone screen.

Lazy, his eyes tired, Sam read the shape of the first question rather than the actual words. His name. He tried to read the next and immediately curled forward as pain pierced through his temples. Someone came to him while he was like that, their feet occupying the stone path right in front of him.

“Are you having a crisis or a headache?” Mary asked.

“Headache,” Sam told her.

There was a rattle. A bottle of pills appeared in his hand, a bottle of water manifesting in the other. “Here.” She sat next to him. “Take those. I want you to be less headachey for the lecture.”

Sam took two pills. If Mary wasn’t watching, he’d have shovelled in far more. “What lecture? What did I do this time?”

“First of all,” Mary said. “You haven’t answered any of my texts. I get that I messed up with Fionn and you were upset with me, but you can’t just ignore me when I ask if you’re okay. Stay mad but message me back.”

“My phone’s been dead,” Sam said. They both knew he was lying. Sam felt no guilt, only annoyance. She knew he hated texting.

“It’s alive and well in your hands right now.” Mary scrubbed her face with her hands. “I’m not trying to nag you. But you keep doing this! Never picking up your phone, off on the water with nobody aware of where you are, ditching every meet-up you plan. It’s too much, okay? You’ve taken on too much between your dad and work and college. I know you turned me down before, but you can let me help with your dad. Just a few days a week.”

“No,” Sam refused.

“Why not ?”

“He’s frustrating to deal with, Mary.” Sam’s hip started to ache again.

“I’ll be fine.”

“No.” His eyes hurt, dull throbs squeezing him like a slowly tightening vice.

“I will keep my cool. I will make sure he gets fed, and that he’s entertained, and—”

“Mary, no .” He was just so tired.

“Give me one good reason why not,” Mary challenged, fire in her eyes. “One good reason or I’m not going to let this go.” He believed the threat, heart and soul.

“Mary,” Sam spoke gently. “You’ll lose your temper. You’ll snap at him, and he won’t understand why you’re upset with him or what he’s done to earn it.”

“I will be patient.”

“I love you, Mary. I really do. But you are not patient.” Sam tried to keep his voice soft. “And it’s not fair on him for someone who doesn’t like him to go in and just tolerate him.”

“Who says I don’t like him?”

Forget the boat. Sam wanted to curl up right then and there on the bench. “Your honest face does. You think he’s a nuisance. A responsibility you don’t think I should have. An anchor tied to my ankles.”

Her face reddened. And Sam knew it reddened because he was right. He kept his own expression guarded enough so that it didn’t betray that in his weak moments, which seemed to happen more frequently these days, he felt the same way.

The responsibility chafed. He had sought out solutions in the past, and none had worked. Nothing seemed to ever change the situation. Nothing ever shifted the responsibility of his dad’s welfare from his shoulders.

“I will be kind to him.” Mary reached out and covered Sam’s hand with her own. “I can’t dispute all of what you said. But I love you . And to make you happy, I will be the most positive spark in that old man’s life, and I swear I’ll be so patient even saints will admire me.”

She forced him to meet her eyes, hers pleading and determined.

Sam believed her. But even though he believed her, something inside him rebelled against the thought of her going into the house. Of being alone there. The idea of it made his mouth and throat itch like he’d swallowed a handful of raspberries.

“Think about it.”

“Alright,” Sam said. He didn’t consider it for more than a second. No , was the answer.

Mary sat back. “And now lecture number two.”

“There’s more?”

“Eric.”

“What about him?”

“Just think about the fact that Eric called me – I’m pretty sure in tears – because you hate him and he can’t seem to do anything right when he’s around you.”

Sam groaned. “I’ve seen him since then, alright? I apologised.”

“Did you? Well, you could also try answering one of those million texts he sent you,” Mary remarked, eyes darting to his phone.

Sam followed her gaze. Had Eric been texting him? He ignored the notification bar, which is where she probably saw dozens of unopened texts, and focused on the headache-inducing form. “Could you fill this out for me real quick?” he asked.

Mary took the phone from him. She started tapping at the screen, thumbs flying over the keypad at speed. “Can I tell Eric you’ll meet him later?”

“I already have plans to meet him on the weekend. Although I’ll probably swing by Sally’s for dinner. You can ask him if he wants to join me.”

Mary finished the typing and Sam leaned back, relieved that the pain in his head was lessening.

“Sam?”

“Mhm?”

“There are a lot of reminders here. That you haven’t opened.”

“I’ll open them later.”

“About missing your in-class tests for accounting and economics.”

Sam cracked open an eye. What? “I don’t have any of those modules this semester.”

Mary looked at him with growing concern in her eyes. A defensive feeling rose from within.

“Leave it, Mary, I know my own classes.”

He could see her thinking about it. Deciding whether she was going to have another fight with him right there.

She handed him back the phone. “The email is sent. And it’s ringing Eric now, so you tell him to join you for dinner.”

Sam could have complained about being put on the spot, but he just raised the phone to his ear as Mary stood.

“I love you,” she said. “But you’d better start answering your phone, or I’m going to kill you.”

“Love you too,” Sam called after her.

“Oh,” Eric answered. “You don’t hate me? I was sure you hated me. I love you too. Of course I do. Have I not told you that yet? I’m sorry, I should have.”

Sam cringed. He opened his mouth but quickly shut it. How could anyone with a heart correct that misunderstanding? “I was calling to see if you wanted to grab dinner later.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’d love to. Are you at college? Do you want me to come pick you up?”

“I’ll meet you there. Six work? Sally’s?”

“Sounds good,” Eric agreed. “And thank you for inviting me.”