The Boys of Blueberries

19

Rhysand drives Sabina home.

Andy has to stay back for an important appointment, but she sends her off with a kiss on the cheek and a bone-crushing hug.

In the car, Sabina looks out the window, and then suddenly, the glass moves down, and Sabina's hit in the face with a gush of wind.

Rhysand doesn't look at her, and Sabina doesn't look at him. She just exhales heavily and props her elbow on it, sticking her face out and closing her eyes.

The drive is faster than she'd like. When they arrive near apartment, it's not a surprise to Sabina to see Tristan's Dodge outside, and him pacing in front of it, phone in his hand.

Sabina pulls her head back and leans against the seat, sighing. Rhysand pulls the window back up and says, "I can turn around."

His voice is startling in the quiet. Sabina glances at his side profile and mutters, "I'll just hide in your house if you do."

"Isn't that why you have a room?" he counters dryly, turning his head to look at her. He's slowing the car down, giving her time to make a decision.

Sabina stares at him and raises an eyebrow. "You're not going to punch him in my stead if I say I don't wanna turn around, right?"

Rhysand looks deadly serious when he asks flatly, "Do you want me to?"

She manages a laugh. "That's embarrassing and annoying."

His mouth twitches. "I'm a grown man, Sabina. I don't punch people anymore. You do, apparently. And if you look this ugly, I don't want to know what his sister looks like."

Sabina's lips curve. "You proud?"

He doesn't look at her. "I don't condone violence, Sabina."

"You are."

"Shut up. We're here."

Tristan raises his head once they're approaching, eyes sore and red, and his expression makes Sabina's chest feel heavier. So she doesn't look at him, and she takes off her seatbelt while Rhysand parks the car. "Thanks for the tea, old man."

"You're making me regret it. Go inside," he drawls.

Sabina grabs her bag and opens the door. Tristan's already walking towards her. "I've been trying to get ahold of you for hours," he says quietly, eyes angry, darting between her and Rhysand's car. "And you can't just decide we're over when you want to be over, that's not how this fucking works."

"I needed space considering the shit that's happened." Sabina brushes past him, heading to her front door. "Come in if you want to talk."

With a sigh, he follows after her.

Rhysand leaves once she's inside.

Sabina kicks off her shoes, tosses her bag on the couch, and rounds the kitchen for a glass of water. Tristan puts his palms on the counter and tightens his jaw, watching her. "I don't like that you ran out on me, Sabina. We're supposed to talk to each other, we're supposed to communicate—"

"Jeez, Tristan, what else was I supposed to do after I just punched your younger sister?" Sabina asks curiously, putting more force to closing her drawer than necessary. Her glass makes a noise when she puts it down, and she moves past him to grab the pitcher from her refrigerator. "And she just told me I was infesting her house and family with my evilness and absurd hatred for Brandon and for children?"

"Okay, stop," Tristan breathes, bowing and shaking his head. "Stop, Sabina, stop for a second."

She drinks her water and puts it down, wiping her mouth with the back of her arm. She shrugs and says, "I couldn't possibly hang around for a heart-to-heart with you after that, could I? After all, I don't have one."