Miriam returned home after her final seminar of the day to the following note scrawled in Wes' cramped handwriting:
No yoga today, instructors sick. I'm going to Sam's, don't wait up.
Wes
This is how they'd communicated since the fight, not that Miriam wanted to think of it as a fight, but here they were with him not talking to her, at least not really, and avoiding her on top of that, which meant it was a fight. It was also torture, made worse by Ade who called Miriam moments later.
Miriam cracked her neck and fixed the brightest smile to her face in the hope it would chase away her blues. "Hey," she said, proud of the palpable glee which managed to infect her voice.
"What are you doing right now?" Ade asked, his voice as bright as hers.
Miriam padded into the living room and sat cross-legged on the sofa. She could tell the truth, be honest and say nothing, but that would make her far too available for her liking, so she sucked in an audible breath and said, "I'm just about to leave for the library."
"Mind if I join you?"
"I don't know," she said in a sing-song voice, "might be too intense."
"Oh." Ade sounded flat, deflated almost.
"Might also be fun," she laughed, throwing him a much-needed bone. "I mean a girl can only scroll through online archives for so long."
"Archives?" Ade asked.
"For my diss," she explained. "I'm exploring the wages for housework movement."
"You know what I never asked," Ade said.
"What I study?"
"Yeah." His laugh sounded appropriately shameful. "So, what do you study?" he asked.
"I'm a joint honours student, comparative lit and history. You do maths, right?"
"Yeah, how did you—"
"Ryan," Miriam said. "And Grace."
Ade's breath hitched, melting away the last vestiges of pretence from Miriam's smile. Who knew messing with him could be so fun. "You and Grace spoke about me?" he choked.
"Barely," Miriam laughed. "I mean, I had to know what I was getting myself into with you, and since you guys used to hang out, who better to ask."
"I wouldn't call it hanging out," Ade said quickly. Miriam moved the phone away from her face and let out a giggle.
"Oh," she said, voice solemn and concerned. "What would you call it then?"
"Um, well, I guess I would say it was kind of like dating, you know. Only it didn't really work, so if she would prefer to say hanging out, I guess that's cool too. I mean it's all semantics, right."
Miriam pursed her lips. She was sure that under different circumstances his answer would be far less than dating and nowhere near hanging out. That, if she were another girl, Grace would be deemed crazy and untrustworthy. And yet, for Grace's sake, she said, "Yeah, I guess it is. Anyway, should we meet in half an hour?"
"Yeah." Ade sounded relieved. "I'll be the one with the muffins."
True to form, Ade was sitting at a table near the back of the ground floor with four muffins, two takeaway cups and his laptop. His gaze was fixed on the screen, fingers flying across the keyboard, focused beyond belief. It was somewhat attractive, you know, if you were into that sort of thing. But Miriam could imagine he issued the same kind of dedication to his work that he did to ruining girls lives up and down Eastford's campus, so it was less impressive.
YOU ARE READING
The Retribution Chronicles
RomanceMiriam's good at what she does. Some might even say great. So talented, she's cornered the market, niche as it is, and is forevermore known as the only person who can make your cheating boyfriend weep in the blink of an eye. Ade's better. Suave an...