Page 15 of Oleander

“I didn’t know your name until ten seconds ago. How can I hate you?” He shook his head like it was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard.

“Whatever.” I dropped to my knees again and returned to the plant, reaching out to pull at a particularly stubborn stem that had tangled itself around one of the window frames. “I think we should just stay out of each other’s way.”

Without warning, Caspien’s hand wrapped tightly around my wrist. With a strength that surprised me, he yanked my arm back away from the stem.

I turned to glare at him.

“You are an idiot,” he hissed.

“Yeah, well, you’re a horrible, stuck-up little prick. So...” I tried to pull my hand out of his grip, but it was surprisingly strong.

“Oleander,” he hissed, like it explained why he was about to snap my bloody wrist.

I blinked at him, confused.

“It is a plant toxic to humans. Though I wonder if that would even apply to you.” He gave me a disdainful look. “Didn’t your uncle teach you anything?”

I looked at the raggedy stem and stepped back from it.

“I...didn’t know.”

“Did you touch it before I got here?”

“I...don’t think so.”

“You don’t think so?”

“I didn’t. I was...” I looked at it. Then at the pile of weeds I’d pulled up. They weren’t the same. “I didn’t touch it.”

“Did you eat it?”

I looked at him. “Of course, I didn’t eat it.”

He looked unconvinced like I might just be that fucking stupid.

“Then you probably aren’t going to die,” Caspien said.

“Probably?” My heart was beating too fast in my chest. I felt faint and a little dizzy. Was I dying?HadI touched it?

“Come with me,” he said, pulling me by my wrist up and out of the arboretum.

He led me through the house to the kitchen and the huge sink, where he turned on the taps. He left me standing there as he disappeared into the storage cupboard and returned with bleach, a bar of pink soap, and a dishtowel. He poured some bleach onto the towel and scrubbed my hands, front and back and between the fingers. Then he lathered up the pink soap – it smelled awful as the suds started to form – and washed my hands for me.

He never spoke. Just diligently scrubbed the potential poison from my hands, rinsed, and then repeated. He did it three times, then told me to wash them myself with the antibacterial handwash that sat on the sink tray.

I did as instructed while he returned the bleach and threw away the soap. When he came back with a glass of water, he ordered me to drink it all.

When I had done it, he asked how I felt.

I still felt a little dizzy, my head a little big, and my body a little tight and breathless, but I was certain it was not because I had toxic plant poisoning.

“Fine,” I said.

“I’m going to get Luke,” Caspien said. “It’s his call whether you should go to the hospital or not.” He moved to go.

“Uh, thanks for that,” I said.

Caspien stopped, looking uncomfortable. I expected him to say something predictably dick-ish.