Chapter 1: call it what you want
Chapter Text
To say I was disappointed to be headed back to my apartment building at one in the morning would be the biggest fucking understatement. I looked forward to going out all week, so when Saturday rolled around and things started great, I'd been excited. I managed to get most of my drinks for free, flirted and danced with more people than I cared to count, and even went home with one of the semi-attractive guys there. For all intents and purposes, my night was a success.
So why was I heading home early while a pit of frustration sat in my stomach? Because while things with that guy started off with a bang, they quickly fizzled – the sex barely lasted three minutes when the guy rolled off me and opened his phone. Which, sure, has happened before, especially after bad sex, but this guy dared to pull up Tinder before I had the chance to show him how lucky he was to have me naked in his bed.
I left, still a little drunk and a little cold as I’d made my way back to the familiar parking lot of my apartment building. I’d considered ordering an Uber, but it was late and sometimes they weren’t as reliable. Besides, it was easy enough to walk from where I’d been off-campus. Once I arrived at the front door, I let myself in, certain I looked more like a mess than I felt. What a fucking waste of a night.
Instead of going all the way up to my apartment, I set the elevator to one less floor. The doors opened and I walked down the familiar hallway, shivering despite the heat in the building. Before I knew it, before I could think too hard about it, I stood in front of apartment 4D and banged on the door. I knew he was awake because he’d texted me while I was out at the bar – and the joke was on me because I should’ve come here in the first place.
“Maybe you should remember your keys next time,” the familiar voice gruffed. He shuffled behind the door and I blamed what little alcohol was left in my system for the smile that threatened to surface. A few seconds later, he opened the door, and John Murphy stood in front of me. He was shirtless, in just a pair of his black boxers. I tried not to focus too hard on his chest, forcing myself to look up at his face. He’d let his scruff go for the last few days – a look I certainly prefer. Not that I’d admit that.
“Kinda hard to do that when you haven’t given me a key in the first place,” I quipped. If he noticed me staring, at least he didn’t comment on it. “I’m surprised Jamie hasn’t given me one for emergencies.”
“Because James is smart,” Murphy replied as he stepped to the side. “Sometimes.”
“Fortunately for you,” I agreed, following after him.
“I thought you were going out tonight.” He didn’t bother to hide his stare as he did a once-over of me, taking in my mini skirt and black halter top. The approving gaze sent a fresh wave of heat through me that I promptly ignored as I always do.
“No, I wear this to the gym at one am,” I deadpanned, smirking slightly. “The boot heels help with the leg press.”
“I know you’re joking, but for all I know, you would do that.”
“I’ll add it to my workout attire,” I promised. I glanced around his apartment, noticing he'd kept us in the living room with the overhead light on and his bedroom door closed. “If you have someone over, I’ll grab some clothes from Jamie’s closet and be out of your way.”
He arched a disbelieving brow. “That’s why you came pounding at my door? To borrow clothes from James?”
“Your apartment is closer than mine.”
“We live in the same building.”
“And you’re on the fourth floor and I’m on the fifth.”
Murphy’s lips curved into a half-smile. “I don’t have anyone over and your brother isn’t home. You can borrow whatever you want from me.”
“I know, he said he was going out tonight. And great, thanks.”
“No problem.”
I hesitated for a moment, still chilled despite the heat of the apartment. “Is it cool if I borrow your shower too?”
“When have you ever asked my permission for something?”
A full smile spread across my face. Standing here with him was almost enough to forget the frustration that’d coiled in my stomach earlier – but being with Murphy had that effect on me. The one that almost made me forget the real world existed outside of these walls.
“You’re right,” I agreed, already heading towards the bathroom. I considered asking him to join me, and it wouldn’t be the first time – but something stops me. As if I don’t want to be with him just because some guy refused to finish what he started. “Thanks.”
“Any time,” he replied dismissively, waving his hand as he headed toward his room.
I glanced over my shoulder and watched him for a second before letting myself into the bathroom. I shut the door behind me, nearly as familiar with this bathroom as I am with the one in my apartment, and turned the shower on. I wasn’t sure how long I spent there, attempting to wash off Tinder Guy, but eventually, I shut the water off and wrapped myself in a towel before walking into Murphy’s room. He sat in front of the TV, some video game I didn’t recognize on the screen.
“This is what you do with your one Saturday night off?” I asked, an amused smile on my face. Murphy normally bartends at The Dropship – one of the preferred local bars in town – and it’s unusual for him to be home at this time. Not that I was complaining.
“Why, did you have something else in mind?”
“No,” I replied innocently, walking over and pulling his drawers open. I found a pair of his sweatpants in one and a tee-shirt in another. “It’s just so… wholesome.”
He turned to look at me, and I caught his gaze as it ran over me like he couldn’t help himself. “I’m not sure wholesome is the word I’d use to describe myself.”
“Oh, you’re anything but,” I assured him. “Which is why it’s amusing that you’re here playing games on a weekend.”
“Well, you said you were going out.”
I shrugged. “You could’ve come with me.”
“And scare off any potential roster nominees?” he asked as I pulled the tee shirt over my head. It was big enough on me that it went down to my thighs and I slipped my underwear back on before pulling his sweatpants up. I wasn’t swimming in them, exactly, but there was plenty of room so it was way more comfortable than what I had on before.
“Come on, you know you’re my favorite,” I said.
The Roster started as a joke (as most things do) between me and my roommate, Jasper Jordan. Like most things, it quickly spiraled out of control and became a useful tool to prove a point. The point? I wasn't getting attached to yet another brunette with beautiful eyes and more tattoos than most people would expect. (Now, though, I wasn't sure if I was trying to prove it to Jasper or myself.)
Murphy and I weren't exclusive. Plus, it was easy enough to ignore the unsettled feeling in my stomach at the thought of Murphy sleeping with other people. And I knew he had. I might sleep with more girls than him, but he slept with more guys. We might both be bi disasters but at least we’re upfront about it. (Another fact Jasper found hilarious.)
“Of course I am. That’s why you’re here.”
“Am I that transparent?” I teased, walking over to his bed and sitting down.
“It’s one thirty in the morning and you were out all night. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure it out, Rhodes.”
“Hmm. And yet you went back to your game.”
“I did,” he replied, leaning back against his chair. “You want to play?”
“Not really.”
“You have something else in mind?”
“And if I did?”
He glanced over at me. “Then I’m wondering why it’s taking you so long to do anything about it. You’re the one who came here, not me.”
“Just what every girl wants to hear.”
“I could keep playing–”
“Don’t be an asshole,” I chided. I looked over at him and met his gaze. This wasn't the first time I’ve come over or the first time I’ve wanted him. It started at the end of last year – the banter, the reading between the lines, the Roster to prove a point – and somehow picked up right where we left off. As if there hadn’t been an entire summer between the first time and now.
“What are you gonna do about it?”
Before I could think too hard about it, I did the one thing I’d wanted to do since I walked into this apartment. I stretched my hand out to the nape of his neck and pulled him closer. He didn’t protest, instead moving until he knelt on the bed in front of me. My eyes raked over his chest again before I leaned in to kiss him. Murphy kissed me back, and I ignored every rush of heat and every spark that exploded in my body. His hands moved to my waist and he pushed me back on the bed, my back landing against the pillows. He deepened the kiss and I pulled my knees up around his waist. Murphy’s hands immediately moved under my (well, his ) shirt, sending shivers down my spine.
And this was why. This was why I had a roster, why I ignored the feelings his touch gave me and the power he had over me when I was in his bed. It was the one place I felt safe enough to let someone else take control – and God, I fucking loved it when he took control.
But while I loved the rush of heat and the friction of my skin against his, I refused to give in completely. He might gain power over my body when I let him but I wouldn’t give him power over my heart.
I’d made that mistake once – with a different brunette and beautiful brown eyes – and I wouldn't make it again. I refused to give John Murphy the power to break me.
So I eagerly allowed this to happen. I helped him take our clothes off, my nails raking down his spine, my breath heavy as I let him do everything he knew that made me feel fucking incredible.
I know I’ll have to let him go, but for now, I held on a little tighter.
“I’m sorry, he did what ?” Jasper asked the next morning, leaning forward in his spot on the couch. As most morning-after debriefs went, we sat in the living room of our apartment. We each had to-go coffees, either on the coffee table or the table next to the couch.
“Please tell me you ran out after that,” our third roommate, Raven Reyes, said from her spot across from Jasper. It was our second year of sharing an apartment together, and if I’m being honest, it’s my favorite part about college. It took some adjustments not living with my twin brother, but by now I’d grown fond of the space we’d created. Especially since James was only a floor below me this year.
“Of course I did,” I replied, giving them both matching looks with raised eyebrows. “Contrary to popular belief, I do have some dignity.”
Jasper snorted and I flipped him off.
“Okay, but you didn’t come home last night,” Raven replied, ignoring our antics. Her brown eyes widened and she stared at me, a small hint of judgment brewing in her eyes. “You didn’t–”
I hesitated, sipping my coffee. “--Yeah, I did. Listen, Tinder Guy was horrible. There was no way I was going to come home frustrated when I could find someone else to finish the job he started.”
“You could find someone else,” Raven insisted. “Anyone else, Em.”
“I don’t understand why you don’t like him,” I protested. “He’s Jamie’s best friend and we’ve known him since freshman year–”
“And your brother would be the first one to tell you he’s an asshole.”
I glanced over at Jasper, who has been unusually quiet. “You know Murphy’s not a bad guy, right?”
Jasper shrugged. “He’s better than Bellamy,” he assured Raven. Bellamy Blake is the one who sets the standard for all the people I’ve hooked up with throughout my college career. We dated for two years in high school before breaking up almost immediately after graduation. “But not by much.”
I rolled my eyes. “Bellamy wasn’t horrible either–”
“Your taste in men is questionable at best, babe,” Raven commented, sipping her tea.
“You’re one to talk.”
“Ladies, ladies,” Jasper interrupted. His face grew serious as he turned to look at me. “How long are you planning on keeping this up, Em?”
“Keeping what up?”
“You're sleeping with Murphy,” he replied. “It’s not the best arrangement.”
“As long as we’re both single, it doesn’t matter,” I said. “And he knows I’m dating other people. So is he.”
“That’s the stupidest fucking thing I’ve ever heard,” Raven remarked.
“Listen. The point of the roster is to prove that I’m not getting attached–”
“And you wind up in Murphy’s bed almost every night anyway,” Jasper cut in. “So that would prove that the roster isn’t working. Or the sex is that good.”
I winked at him. “It’s the second one. And look, it’s fine. I’m not exactly drowning in my folklore era, right? So there’s nothing to worry about.”
“I did hear ‘King of My Heart’ on repeat the other day,” Raven pointed out.
I rolled my eyes. In this apartment, it was common knowledge that whatever Taylor Swift album I was currently obsessed with was a good indicator of my mood. But so what if I’ve been listening to reputation on repeat? It might be a surprisingly soft, romantic album, but that does not mean I’m falling for John Murphy.
Seeing him three times this week might. But my roommates didn't need to know that.
“As long as I don’t have to listen to ‘the 1’ on repeat for weeks, I think I’ll survive,” Jasper agreed reluctantly.
“Fuck both of you,” I snapped, curling my knees up to my chest. In a desperate attempt to change the subject, I looked at both of them. “Do either of you have to work today or can we all just study and hang out together?”
“I have work at the library later, but I’m free until dinner,” Raven replied, thankfully catching on.
“I’ve got a night shift at the restaurant, so I’m good til then too,” Jasper agreed.
“Okay, cool. So a study party and ordering in, right?”
“As long as you’re buying,” Raven said.
“That was a given,” I agreed, already starting to pull up my phone. As much as it annoyed me when my friends gave me shit about Murphy, I knew it was because they loved me.
But I wished they could see what I see in him – because maybe then they’d change their mind.
No. No, absolutely not – I wasn’t going to think like that.
I was not getting attached to John Murphy.
Chapter 2: in the heat of your electric touch
Chapter Text
Music pulsed through my earbuds as I balanced a stack of books in my hands, a cup of iced coffee resting precariously on top. I didn’t even hear someone approach as I hit the button to the elevator until their arm brushed against mine. My heart raced and I jumped, thankfully not spilling the contents of my drink as I glanced beside me. Somehow, I wasn’t entirely surprised to find my twin brother standing there. With our height difference, I had to arch my neck to glare at him.
“Hello to you too,” I grunted.
“So we’re all set for tonight?” he asked without preamble. But that was my brother – if my life is chaotic, his was neatly planned in calendars and to do lists. We both drove each other crazy.
“Yes, Dad,” I said, rolling my eyes as we stepped onto the elevator. James reached for the coffee and took it off my stack so that I could put the books in my bag. I was about to thank him when he had a sip of my drink and I scowled at him instead. Still, I took my earbud out of my ear, slipping it into my pocket. “I told Raven to keep her night free and I’m dragging her out to pizza because I haven’t seen her much since classes started.”
It wasn’t a complete lie, but it might be enough of a stretch if Raven thought too much about it.
“Good,” he replied, ignoring the nickname. In our family, ‘Dad’ wasn’t exactly a compliment. I did my best not to call him that when we were home with Mom, though. “My last class is at 4, so I was gonna hit the gym before heading over. Murphy said he had the night off?”
“Yeah, he traded his shift to work a double on Saturday.”
The hoops I had to go through to plan something nice for one of my best friend’s birthday still amazed me. But I learned the hard way that not only did Raven hate surprises, she also hated her birthday. She had some pretty valid reasons thanks to her mom, but still. James and I refused not to celebrate, which meant we had to plan in secret. And when the four of us lived in the same building, secrets never stayed secret for long.
“Okay, perfect. I’ll text you when I’m leaving.”
“Sounds good,” I said. The elevator stopped at James’ floor first and he turned to head out. “I’ll see you then, Jamie.”
“See you then, Em.”
The elevator closed after he got out and took me up one more floor. I headed toward my apartment, relieved to be home by myself for a few hours.
Jasper took a night class on Thursdays and Raven was at the library until dinner, which left me time to work on homework before I had to start getting ready. At least, in theory.
I smiled to myself and headed toward my room, planning to figure out an outfit so I didn’t have to think about it later.
It wasn’t a fancy restaurant and we weren’t going to the bars after. But it was a night with Murphy. And even though I wasn't supposed to, even though it would prove Raven right, I wanted to make sure I looked good.
For no specific reason at all.
By the time the evening rolled around, my anxiety crawled out of my chest. What if Raven discovered what I’m up to and she’ll go radio silent on me again like she did freshman year? What if James hurt himself at the gym, or something happened on the twenty minute ride into town?
“Are you okay?” Raven asked, clocking me with a side-eye as she pulled her Jeep into the parking lot of the pizza place. “You’re being weird.”
“I’m not weird,” I insisted.
“You’re being quiet,” Murphy remarked from the passenger’s seat. “Which for you is weird.”
I flipped him off. “I’m fine. Long day and I’m hungry.”
“Then I guess it’s a good thing we’re about to eat,” Raven said. She parked, cutting the engine as the music died out. There was a skeptical look on her face when she glanced back at me, but at least she didn’t comment as she climbed out.
Relief flowed through me as I noticed Jamie’s BMW in the parking lot and a text that announced his arrival.
“What is James doing here?” Raven asked as Murphy and I got out of the car after her.
I shrugged. “He had a free night and wanted to hang out before the semester eats him alive,” I replied, directly quoting my brother from earlier that week. “I didn’t think you’d mind him crashing our plans.”
Raven narrowed her eyes at me. “Tonight?” she prompted.
“He’s your best friend,” I pointed out, at which Murphy rolled his eyes. “Are you complaining?”
“No,” she said. “But I swear to God, Emma, if you–”
“Hey, you made it!” Murphy announced as we walked into the pizza place.
James was always easy to spot. His 6’2 frame stood out almost anywhere we go, but ever the politician, he blended right in by making friends with everyone. He was busy flirting with the attractive male host as Murphy cut off Raven’s threat and turned to us. My brother grinned, his attention first on Raven. His smile lit up his face, showing his dimples and brightening his dark brown eyes. If that wasn’t proof my brother was in love with one of my best friends, I didn’t know what was.
They were both oblivious and idiots about it, obviously.
Raven forgot her threat as she walked over to him and hugged him tightly. He wrapped his arms around her, nearly picking her up off the ground. Murphy and I were temporarily forgotten as they reunited as if they hadn’t hung out three days ago.
“Still think it’ll take them to at least senior year before they realize they’re into each other?” Murphy asked, his arm brushing against mine. We hadn’t said much to each other today, but that was pretty typical of us.
“Oh, I’m still in for graduation,” I replied, smiling at him.
“You’re on, Rhodes,” Murphy said. He cleared his throat, loud enough to break apart Raven and James. “Some of us would like to say hello before we get seated, thank you.”
“And here I thought you two would appreciate the privacy,” Raven quipped.
James’ surprised look earned her a glare from me. Thankfully, it didn't last long as James came over and clasped Murphy’s hand before hugging me. “Do I want to know?” he asked me quietly.
Somehow he still hasn’t figured out that I was the girl sleeping with his roommate, but I learned a long time ago it was better to count your blessings. (Then again, it probably helped that I wasn’t the only person sleeping with his roommate.)
“Nothing to be concerned about,” I assured him.
“Can we eat now?” Raven asked as Jamie and I broke away. “Emma is starving.”
“I am,” I admitted. “I’ve been craving this pizza all day.”
The host, who had been busy the whole time, finally looked up. “Rhodes, party of 4?” he asked, glancing between us.
“Yep,” I chirped, smiling at Raven.
She rolled her eyes, but thankfully Jamie’s presence was enough to distract her from potentially reaming me out about a birthday surprise. (Definitely planned on that, too.)
The four of us followed the host to a booth in the back corner. There was no distinction that tonight was a special night to anyone other than the four of us: no obnoxious balloons tied to the seats or any banners indicated that we were here for a celebration. Even getting the group together tonight was a bit of a risk, but it was one I was willing to take. Raven might hate her birthday but I can still be glad the day exists.
We filled the booth, James across from me and next to Raven, leaving Murphy to slide in next to me. We all pretended to glance through the menu, Murphy’s arm brushing against mine as we caught each other up on the week’s events. I took a quick photo of a candid Raven and James, who were both smiling as Jamie tells us a story about one of his classmates.
And this, I thought quietly to myself, was what happiness is supposed to feel like.
We arrived back on campus and I was stuffed with pizza and mozzarella sticks, my heart as full as my stomach. In an unsurprising turn of events, James was off with Raven. He was an expert at pretending her birthday doesn’t exist, though, so I could finally let myself relax. Another successful night was in the books.
Murphy offered to walk me to my apartment and I wasn’t about to turn down an excuse to be alone with him. We were quiet until we got back to my place and I dug for my keys.
“You wanna come inside?” I asked. “Jasper was going to Monty’s after his class.”
“Yeah, sounds good,” he replied, following close behind me.
There was a small piece of me that wanted to ask him what this meant. I didn’t need specific answers, but it had to mean something beyond sex. If it didn’t, there was no way we would’ve picked this up after coming back this year. But the thing about John Murphy was that I couldn’t just ask what this meant and expect a direct answer from him.
So I didn’t say anything. Instead, the door closed behind him, and he pulled me into his arms. There was no hesitation this time when he kissed me, hot and urgent. I kissed him back with the same energy, my hands twisting into his hair. Who the fuck needed answers when his kiss was goddamn electric?
Murphy deepened the kiss, the only barrier between us the clothes we had on. His hands ran down to my ass and gripped me tightly, and I wrapped my legs around his waist. My skin was on fire as he carried me back to my room, kicking the door closed behind me.
And in the heat of his electric touch, I let myself burn.
Chapter 3: every day is like a battle
Chapter Text
Classes began to pick up the following week which left me little time for anything beyond my workload. I knew going in that junior year was going to be rough as a music education major, but by the second week of school, I was already overwhelmed. As much as I gave Jamie shit for his color-coded calendar and organization app that had all of his to do lists and class assignments, there was a part of me that envied him for his skills. It didn’t alleviate his stress, but he at least had a clearer idea of what was going on in his life and managed to make time to hang out with not just me, but Raven and Murphy as well.
It drove me fucking crazy.
I wasn’t drowning, exactly, but I’d already lost track of how many hours I’d spent in the music studio and I became much more familiar with the second floor of the library. At least it was early enough in the semester that it wasn’t overly crowded and I’d managed to find a nice desk with one of the few windows that look out to the courtyard for myself.
Naturally, someone sat at that particular desk when I came back from my smoke break that Wednesday afternoon. I’d left my backpack in the seat across from where she’d camped out, but she’d ignored it and perched her laptop on the desk with a huge textbook sprawled open next to it. Even from her side profile, though, she was beautiful, so I could almost let it slide.
Almost. Her shoulder-length blonde hair and her perfectly shaped nose didn’t change the fact that she was in my seat and I wanted to conquer three assignments today. I marched up to the desk with confidence, hoping I didn’t smell too badly of cigarettes, and cleared my throat.
She looked up and her blue eyes nearly took my breath away. Focus, Rhodes. “Can I help you?” she asked, her nose wrinkling as she took an earbud out of her ear.
“Uh, yeah,” I replied. Apparently she could smell my smoke break from her seat. “You’re using my desk.”
“Am I?” she asked, her lips curving into a smirk. “I don’t see your name anywhere.”
I rolled my eyes. “Ha ha. But that’s my backpack,” I said, pointing at it.
The desk thief closed her laptop halfway and followed the direction of my finger. “Bold of you to leave your stuff here unattended.”
I glanced around the library. I was pretty sure we were the only two people in here which meant she was either a double major like me or some kind of STEM major. That would be hot. Not that that mattered. “I was gone for five minutes,” I said, my tone clipped. “And no one is in here.”
She pointed to herself. “Someone’s here now.”
“Can’t you just – relocate?” I asked, slightly exasperated as I waved my arms in a ridiculous fashion.
“Well, if it means that much to you,” she said, clearly amused by my distress. There was a spark in her blue eyes and it was hard for me to look away as she stood up. She wasn’t much taller than me and she wore a pair of gray sweatpants and a black hoodie. “You might not have the same luck next time.”
“Next time?” I repeated. “You mean you’re planning on stealing my desk again?”
She shrugged, cleaning up her laptop and her textbook. When I glanced at the spine of the book, I noticed it was some kind of Organic Chemistry text. Which meant I was right: STEM major. “You never know,” she replied. “It’s a good spot. With just the right amount of afternoon light.”
“I know,” I replied, resisting the urge to tell her we could share it. That would be ridiculous – it was still just the two of us. Which wasn’t a surprise since it was still early on in the semester. “That’s why I like it.”
“Then you have good taste,” she said. She packed up her stuff and slung her bag over her shoulder. She was about to leave when she turned back, her chin over her shoulder. “Maybe one less cigarette next time and you won’t have to worry about a desk thief. Those things will kill you, you know.”
Before I thought of a retort, she was already at the opposite end of the library. I couldn’t help but stare after her for a moment before reclaiming my rightful place. I pulled my backpack around the desk and took my laptop out, slipping my headphones on.
Even as I started my homework, I couldn’t help but look over at where the desk thief was now dutifully studying, her head bent down in her work. I shook my head and forced myself to start working. I had enough distractions as it was. I definitely didn’t need to add anymore.
A few days passed and I still couldn’t get the blonde girl out of my head. I’d tried checking her out on social media, but given the fact that all I knew about her was that she had blonde hair and took Organic Chemistry, my results lead nowhere. Even on a campus as small as Arkadia. I could ask Raven about her, but she was an engineering major and even I knew those courses didn’t overlap. But maybe she knew someone. Honestly, though, I wasn’t sure I was ready for the interrogation that would come along with it. With love, of course.
It had been a few days since I’d seen Murphy or gone on any dates, but I tried not to think too hard about a possible connection with the blonde girl. Mostly, I’d been busy with school work and hanging out with my friends and telling myself I didn’t give a shit about some random pretty blonde girl who’d stolen my seat at the library. Once.
And my distraction had absolutely nothing to do with the Snapchat Murphy sent the other night of him in bed with another girl, either.
God, I was a mess.
Get a fucking grip, Rhodes.
“I brought sustenance,” I announced, dropping into a seat next to Raven at our apartment. It’d been a few days since I’d seen her (or Jasper, for that matter) and it was Thursday. No matter what was going on in our lives, we tried to make time for each other once a week – so far this year, that night fell on Thursday.
“I love you,” she said without looking up from her textbook.
“I know,” I replied innocently. I started spreading the take-out containers on our coffee table. I’d picked up an excess amount of fast food on my way back from the music studio. “Food really is the way to a girl’s heart.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” Raven said, finally looking over. “Holy shit, Em. This is a lot of food.”
“I know,” I said with a grin, pulling a french fry out. “I’m starving. And I didn’t know if Jasper was home, so I thought I’d grab extra.”
“He’ll appreciate that, but he’s got class,” she replied.
“Oh fuck, you’re right.” I shrugged. “Maybe I’ll see if James wants any of the leftovers.”
Was I crazy, or did a small smile ghost Raven’s face? “He definitely would.”
I decided to ignore the comment. “Anyway, I can give you a break or I can work on homework, whatever you need.” Both of our workloads increased and I’d spent enough time with Raven to know that when she needed to get work done, she'd tell me to shut up. (And sometimes make me create a ‘yap sheet’ - which was basically a piece of paper or a note in my phone about all of the things I wanted to discuss with her while she got work done. It was a genius idea and honestly helped sometimes.)
“Considering these formulas look Greek to me, a break is good.”
I snorted. “Fair. My fingers were going to fall off if I stayed in the studio any longer, so I feel you.”
Raven arched her brow. “Were you playing classical again?”
“Yeah and it’s honestly a bitch sometimes. It took me two hours to get one section of a piece down.”
“I’ll never understand why you majored in music.”
I leaned over to see what was working on before she snapped her textbook closed, but if I was being honest, the engineering words sometimes didn’t look real in my brain. “And I’ll never understand why you majored in engineering.”
“Because engineering will be useful in the future.”
“And I wanna teach kids music, so there.”
Raven snorted and I grinned at her before we spend some time catching each other up on last week. Even though we lived in the same apartment, seeing each other sometimes still required careful planning, which was how we came up with the Thursday night rule. Unless some kind of emergency happened, every Thursday night, we tried to hang out for at least an hour or so. When midterms and finals were in full swing, exceptions happened, but overall, it was a pretty solid rule that made sure we made time for each other outside of the group. Some weeks were better than others, obviously, but it worked pretty well since freshman year.
Even as we talked about our classes and complained about the audacity of men, I didn’t tell her about the desk thief from the library. Even if nothing came from it, I wanted something that was just mine. And if something did come from it (like I’ll ever see her again), I'd be sure to tell Raven then. Or at least, that was what I told myself that afternoon.
We eased into a comfortable french fry eating silence when my phone buzzed. I glanced over and noticed it was a text from Murphy, asking if I was free tonight. As much as I wanted to see him, I hesitated, leaving my phone on the table. I thought back to the Snapchat I got from him the other night, the one with him in bed with another girl. It wasn’t the first time either of us had done something like that – to see if we’d get a reaction out of each other – but it usually resulted in us getting pissed off for a few days. The sex afterward was typically worth it, at least.
“Are you gonna get that?” Raven asked, nodding to my phone and pulling me back to our conversation.
I shrugged. “It’s just Murphy.” I wasn’t about to break the Thursday night rule for a hookup – and certainly not when Raven would give me endless shit for it.
“Mhm,” she said, giving me a knowing look.
I arched my brow. “What?”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You don’t have to,” I replied. “Your face says it all.”
Raven rolled her eyes. “We’ve talked about this, Em. It’s just my face.”
She did naturally have a resting bitch face, to the point where I was convinced she hated me the first two weeks after we met, but I knew the difference now. It was usually in her eyes. Even though she was convinced the dark brown doesn’t change color, there was a slightly harder expression in them when she was judging me. Which there was now.
“If you say so,” I said, not entirely convinced.
“Look, it’s not my fault I look like a bitch,” she insisted. She paused. “Though sometimes I am a bitch.”
I snorted. “That’s an understatement.” I kicked her under the table so she knew I was teasing. “But going back to Murphy, it’s probably a photo of him with another girl, so no. I’m not gonna answer.”
Raven arched a brow. “You’re not?”
“No. I don’t have to respond to him all the time.”
“Mhm,” she replied. “Clearly the roster is doing it’s job.”
I rolled my eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not attached.”
“You’re not?”
“No, I’m not.”
“If you say so.”
“I can prove it,” I said confidently.
“How?” she asked, finally looking marginally intrigued.
Before I could think too hard about it, “I’ll end it” came flying out of my mouth. I didn’t want to end it – I actually really wanted to see him tonight – but I’d be damned if I let Raven prove her point. Not to mention that my heart couldn’t take it. It was better for both of me and for Murphy.
“If you say so,” she repeated, not bothering to hide her amusement.
“You think you’re hilarious, don’t you?”
“Think? I am hilarious, Em.”
I gave her a look. “I’ll do it,” I insisted, this time with more confidence than I felt. It should be easy enough. All it took was a text, right?
Raven continued to sip her soda but surprisingly didn’t say anything. I watched her for a second before pulling up my message thread with him, ignoring the fact that the bulk of it was one of us asking the other to come over. There were a couple of pictures that I sent him of me dressed up, but given the fact that Murphy wasn’t one to shower me with compliments, they mostly went ignored. Something that I didn’t realize bothered me until now.
I thought back to the Snapchat of him with another girl and something close to jealousy simmered through me. It was enough to pull some resentment into my stomach and I started typing before I could talk myself out of it.
I deleted it, retyped it, and deleted it again before typing it one last time. And then before I could stop myself, I pushed the blue arrow on my phone, sending the message out into the universe. I expected to feel triumphant, but there was nothing but a sense of dread coiled in my stomach as I looked back at Raven. I managed a smile.
“There. I did it.”
“Mhm.”
I rolled my eyes and showed Raven my phone. My text sat there at the bottom of the thread. The words i don’t think we should do this anymore glared up at me but I focused more on my roommate’s reaction than what I’d done.
“It’ll last three days.”
“You know we’re not dating, right?”
Raven didn’t say anything and popped another french fry in her mouth.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“If you want to say something, just say it.”
“No, I don’t think you want me to say it.”
I rolled my eyes and turned my phone around so I wasn’t tempted to check it. “When has that ever stopped you before?”
“Jasper’s already pointed it out, though,” she said. I braced myself. “You always end up in his bed even after an entire summer apart. And you’re gonna sit there and tell me you don’t feel anything for him? You, who gets a crush on the baristas when they put smiley faces on your coffee cups?”
I tried not to be offended. Even if she was right. “I don’t feel anything for Murphy. And the only reason I end up in his bed is because half the time I don’t even get to finish with the assholes I hook up with.”
“Okay but still. You’re Emma. You feel things and you feel them deeply. Before you yell at me, that’s not a bad thing. I am just concerned that whatever’s going on with Murphy won’t end well for you. And he’s James’ best friend and roommate.”
I thought back to all of the reasons I enjoy – enjoyed – sleeping with Murphy. Raven wasn’t going to be persuaded by the electricity of his touch or the way he made me feel, but there is something big here that I usually didn’t like to think too hard about what it meant. At least on top of everything else. And even though she was right about the other stuff, I wouldn’t let her know that.
“He’s good in bed and I feel safe with him,” I replied. “End of story.”
Something about her expression softened just slightly. Like she knew I was deflecting. “That’s it?”
“Raven,” I said exasperatedly. “That’s it. Now it’s over.”
“If you’re sure.”
“So tell me more about the people you’re hooking up with,” I said, hoping to redirect the conversation away from me and Murphy. I hated the fact that I was already distracted by anticipating Murphy’s response, but I did my best to focus on Raven’s stories. And to not think too hard about what she said about me feeling things too deeply. Even if she was right.
Raven was right about one other thing, too.
The text went unread for three days.
Chapter 4: you play stupid games you win stupid prizes
Chapter Text
The last three days were a shitshow. At least for John Murphy.
He ended up working a twelve hour shift at the bar on Saturday because one of the closers called out. Murphy needed the money -- and the chaos of The Dropship brought a welcoming distraction most of the time. On top of working Friday night, he earned a good chunk of tips to show for the long hours. Unfortunately for him, he was so exhausted by the end of it he couldn’t help but wonder if it was worth it.
Murphy stared at the text from Emma for the last 72 hours. He knew he should respond, that he probably pissed her off by doing the opposite. Their situation was supposed to be easy. Just sex. No labels, no expectations, no drama. It was supposed to be a thing to get out of their system – she was his best friend’s (and roommate’s) twin sister, for fuck’s sake. And Murphy was never one for labels to begin with.
But there were the Snapchats they sent each other. Her dates with other people. Dates that shouldn’t bother him because Emma always did whatever the hell she wanted. And she wasn’t his. He’d been going on dates too. There'd been enough people (guys and girls alike) that should’ve kept her out of his goddamn head. And yet…
And yet it was Sunday night. Instead of working on a paper for one of his psych classes, he stood in front of Emma Rhodes’ apartment door. Pacing. Because he wasn’t sure if he should knock.
Taylor Swift blared from the other side of the room and he almost smiled. Emma might think she was wild and unpredictable, but she was the exact opposite. A trait he somehow found endearing.
Fuck.
Before he thought too hard about the implications of what it meant, he knocked on the door. When nothing happened, he knocked one more time, a little louder. Still no answer.
Murphy was about to turn back to work on the paper he should have prioritized when the door opened. Emma stood in front of him, wearing an all black gym set that showed off every muscle and every curve. Her dark brown hair was tied up in a loose braid and there was a fire in her chocolate eyes. She placed her hand on her hip and looked at him, not letting him into her apartment.
She looked hot as hell, but yeah, she was pissed.
“I got your text,” Murphy said when he realized he was supposed to be the one to speak first.
“You mean the one I sent three days ago?” she asked, her voice clipped.
He cleared his throat. What the fuck is he doing? “Yeah. Can I come in?”
She hesitated. Her eyes swept over him and he tried not to think about the effect that gaze had on him. On how he wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her until the anger left her body. And he’d pin that body against the wall and –
“Fine,” she replied, turning on her heel and walking inside. At least she left the door open for him.
Murphy walked in. He tried to place the song that was playing, but he was too focused on the girl in front of him. “Did you mean it?”
“Mean what?”
“The text,” he replied lamely. “Is it really over?”
“Is what really over?”
God, he wanted to fucking shake her sometimes. “Us,” he clarified, stepping closer. She felt the tension between them too – she tensed slightly but didn’t step back from him. He vaguely wondered if her roommates were home. (Neither Raven nor Jasper threatened to throw him out on his ass, though, so he figured he was safe.) “Our… arrangement.”
“Does it matter?”
“Would I be here if it didn’t?”
“I don’t know, John.”
He winced. “Look, I’ve been swamped. The Dropship had a callout on Saturday night and I agreed to fill in,” he explained. He didn’t know why he felt the need to explain. It should’ve been in the rules of their arrangement – but they never officially set rules. And more than anything, he considered Emma a friend. “And you know I worked Friday night–”
“Did you lose your phone or something?”
“No, I just–”
“So are you confused? I thought it was pretty clear.” She crossed her arms over her chest.
He didn’t let his eyes dip with the movement and instead took another step closer. “You were,” he agreed. “But you didn’t answer my question.”
“And what question is that?”
“Did you mean it?”
Silence. She chewed her lip. “Honestly I didn’t think you’d care, so.”
“Why?” he pressed, respecting the distance between them. They were going in circles but he refused to leave until he had answers. And if he was honest, Murphy wasn’t ready to unpack that.
“Why did I end things or why did I think you wouldn’t care?”
“Yes.”
She sighed, frustrated by the way the conversation was going. She turned away from him and shut the music off on her phone. The silence was deafening. “You never gave me a reason to believe otherwise.”
Finally. It sucked but at least it was something. “You can’t be serious.”
“And look, casual sex is great. It’s fine. But it’s been two months and it’s a new year. Don’t you think we’ve gotten it out of our system by now?”
“Do you?”
“Murphy, I swear to fucking God,” she sighed. She walked over to the couch and sat down. He was tempted to follow her but now he gave her her space.
“What?”
“I can’t do this anymore,” she replied, her head in her hands.
Murphy’s heart constricted a little. He ignored it, tentatively walking over to her. “Can’t do what?”
“This. Us. Whatever.”
“It was your idea,” he pointed out. It sounded ridiculous even to him, but he ignored that too. “Now you want to end it?”
“What if I do?”
“What if I don’t?”
Emma looked up at him then. “Why not?”
“Because, Rhodes,” he said, taking another step closer to her. “I like spending time with you. And I do care. And I was busy this weekend, but I should have texted you.”
It wasn’t a full apology and she knew it. He wanted to say the words, but something stopped him from saying them. At least there was less heat when she looked at him now than when she did before.
“Yeah, you should’ve.”
“So what now?” he asked, kneeling in front of her. He wanted to take her into his arms but he held off, gauging how she was feeling and if she still wanted him there. Before coming over, Murphy told himself he’d respect whatever decision she came to, even if he didn’t like it. Everything that has happened started because it was Emma’s choice. He’d be a goddamn idiot if he took that choice away from her now.
“I don’t know,” Emma said, lowering her hands onto her knees. Her voice was soft, but she reached out and tentatively grabbed his fingers with hers. He let her. “I don’t… I don’t want it to end.”
Murphy offered a crooked smile. “Me either.”
Surprise flickered across her face. “You don’t?”
“Would I be here at 8:30 on a Sunday night if I did?”
“No,” she said slowly. “I guess not.”
Murphy stood, carefully pulling Emma to her feet. He brought her into his arms and she didn’t protest, instead wrapping her arms around his waist. She still wasn’t quite looking at him, though, so he put his fingers under her chin and lifted her gaze to his.
“So are we good?” he asked, his voice rough as his fingers shifted from her chin down to the nape of her neck.
Emma let out a breath, leaning closer into him. “Yeah. We’re good.”
“Good.”
They didn’t mention James. Almost as if they talked about anyone else, their bubble would burst. Whatever kind of bubble it was.
His chin dipped and he captured her lips in a kiss. To his relief, she kissed him back instantly. Desire surged through him and he pulled her closer, deepening the kiss. The kiss was filled with a hot urgency he hadn’t felt before. Murphy’s free hand wrapped around Emma’s bare waist and he thought about how criminal it was that she wore any clothes at all. He lowered his hand and cupped her ass in his hands and a small gasp escaped from her as she pushed herself closer to him.
He wanted to fold then but he managed to keep steady even as he strained against his jeans. He backed her up, still kissing her until the back of her knees hit the couch. Murphy gently pushed her down, his eyes raking over how fucking beautiful she was. She fell back onto the couch, spreading her knees for him as he climbed on top of her, planning to show her exactly what he’d missed all weekend.
He took his shirt off and started kissing her neck. Heat flashed through him as she ran her nails down his back and moaned at his touch.
And maybe – just maybe – this could be enough. Whatever this was.
“What the fuck is that?”
“That’s a bullseye,” James said plainly, grinning at Nate Miller. He walked over to the target mounted on the wall at the back of the bar and pointed. “See how it landed right in the middle? I know that’s a foreign concept for you–”
Miller flipped him off. “Well, it’s two out of three, right?”
“Since you’re a sore loser, sure.”
“No wonder Emma never plays games with you.”
“She’s a worse loser than you, that’s for sure,” James replied.
“You want me to get us another round?” Raven asked from her spot next to Murphy. They sat at a table near the darts in the back at The Dead Zone, Murphy’s favorite dive bar. As much as he enjoyed the benefits of The Dropship (like the discounted drinks), sometimes it was nice to go somewhere that wasn’t his job when he needed to relax. Although he wasn’t sure how relaxing it would be with James and Miller. Whenever he went out with the two of them, some competition was always involved or invented. At least right now no alcohol was involved.
“I can grab it,” Murphy replied, starting to stand up.
Raven shook her head, motioning with her hand for him to sit down. “No no, I’m trying to see how many free drinks I can get us,” she said. She tugged her shirt down a little more and Murphy couldn’t help it as his gaze dipped with the movement. There was no denying that Raven Reyes was gorgeous – and she knew it. She smirked when she noticed Murphy’s gaze. “The shirt does all the work for me.”
He shrugged. “It’d work for me.”
She winked at him. “I’m aware.” She flipped her pin straight black hair behind her shoulders and walked over to James and Miller. James’ gaze does the same dip Murphy’s did and Murphy tried to hide his smile. Those two weren’t nearly as subtle about their feelings as they thought they were. Or they were just that stupid. “You kids want another round?”
“No thanks, but you can put it on my tab,” James replied. It was his standard answer. According to him, what was the benefit of being the favorite child if he couldn’t take advantage of his dad’s credit card? Murphy knew he almost never used it (both him and Emma worked hard enough to not have money ties to their father). But occasionally, Marcus Kane would foot the bill for an evening out and not even know about it.
“Not this time, bud,” Raven said.
Bud? Murphy cringed for James.
“I’ll take another,” Miller replied.
She nodded before disappearing toward the bar. Murphy’s eyes lingered after her for a moment before he turned back, focusing on the game at hand. James and Miller started their third round of darts. James stood further back than before, insisting he’d give Miller an advantage. Murphy smiled, listening to the two of them bicker back and forth as he checked his phone.
There was a Snap from Emma. His stomach tightened at the thought of her out somewhere without him. When he opened it, it was a photo of her computer. A notebook and a textbook lay open in front of her, a cup of coffee in the corner. The caption read: keep me company?
He was tempted. It would be so easy to make an excuse and leave the bar. James laughed, cutting through his train of thought and he looked up. He loved The Dead Zone – and his friends. And after the last conversation he’d had with Emma, his heart was too close to the line to give in this easily. She’d said she didn’t want it to end – but neither of them made moves to clarify their relationship to each other. And, of course, there was James.
Murphy angled his phone and took a photo of his glass, making sure neither James nor Miller were in the background. He almost wrote ‘wish I could’ as his caption before he thought better of it. Instead, he took a sip and let his guard back up, not willing to give his heart fully to a girl who could break it beyond repair. So he wrote: ‘can’t tonight’. It’s as simple – and almost painful – as that.
Raven came back a few moments later, a triumphant smile on her face. Any thoughts of Emma slip away from his mind as he takes the drink from her hand. Their fingers brushed and Murphy blamed the alcohol for the slight tinge of warmth in his hand as he set the full drink next to the half empty one.
“So which poor guy did you convince to buy you these?” he asked, not bothering to hide his amusement. He’d seen her in action plenty of times at The Dropship. And to think all her hidden potential was wasted on some asshole who’d cheated on her their senior year of high school. He at least knew why she didn’t date anymore – not officially – and he didn’t blame her. It was fucking exhausting.
Raven smirked, nodding over to the guy with the floppy blonde hair and arm muscles for days. “They always fall for it.”
“Every time.”
They clinked glasses together and knocked back a sip in unison. James continued to drag Miller’s lack of dart skills in the background. He thought back about the Snapchat – the invitation. And despite the fact that he declined it, he couldn’t help but wonder what if.
Underneath the table, Raven kicked him in the leg. “You good?”
“I’m fine,” he replied. It was his automatic answer. With everything everyone else had going on all the time, Murphy preferred to keep his inner turmoil to himself. Even when Raven’s dark brown eyes looked intensely into his blue eyes. “What? I’m not lying–”
“I didn’t say anything,” she insisted. He almost laughs – James gave the same response. “You had a look on your face.”
“Well, I can’t be cool and elusive all the time,” he replied.
Raven snorted. “I’m sorry, you’re anything but that.”
“I’m more elusive than all of you.”
“And more delusional than any of us combined.”
Murphy sketched a brow. “Excuse me?”
“You know what I mean.”
“No, I don’t think I do.”
“Mhm. Well, just remember: you play stupid games, you win stupid prizes.”
“I think you’ve been spending too much time with Emma if you can quote Taylor Swift.”
“I think you’re spending too much time with Emma if you know I’m quoting Taylor Swift.”
Murphy flipped her off. “I’m here, aren’t I?”
“Good. So be here,” Raven replied. They locked eyes, some kind of battle Murphy was unsure of brewing between them.
“I’ve got winner,” Murphy announced, breaking the stare down.
Raven smirked. Somehow, she still won.
“Thank God, I need a break,” Miller replied.
“Aw, you poor thing,” James teased. He came over to the table, taking a sip of Murphy’s drink. It was the reason he got a second round to begin with. Murphy knew he’d be driving them back to the apartment later and one of them had to be responsible. “Come on, John. It’ll be fun to whip both of your asses.”
“Don’t be so sure,” Murphy replied as he stood up.
He glanced around the bar. He didn’t recognize most of the people here (another benefit of hanging out somewhere other than The Dropship) but a few tables away, he noticed Jasper Jordan sitting with his best friends, Monty Green and Harper McIntyre. Jasper noticed him at the same time and saluted him before going back into whatever conversation they were having before.
Murphy turned back to the game. As he takes the darts out of James’ hand, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d been caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to. When he turned back to the table, Jasper’s head was bent down, completely engrossed in the story Harper told as Monty laughed loudly.
Murphy shook his head. Be here, he reminded himself. He hadn’t done anything wrong. He fingered the dart in his hand, and when James wasn’t paying attention, he threw it.
The dart landed perfectly in the center of the bullseye.
Chapter 5: love is a ruthless game
Chapter Text
I knew I didn’t have a right to be mad at Murphy for not studying with me. I also didn’t have a right to be mad at the text Jasper sent me a few days ago about Murphy and Raven flirting at the bar. Even though we’d cleared things up from our argument a few nights ago, Murphy wasn’t my boyfriend. And okay, sure. There might’ve been a small part of me that wanted him to be but I knew it was only for superficial reasons. He was hot and knew what he was doing in the bedroom. The larger, more logical part of me knew he wasn’t exactly the best fit for a boyfriend. Honestly, he was an asshole sometimes. And in the two years I'd known him, he'd never once voiced wanting a relationship. So this – our situation – I told myself, was completely fine.
After classes that afternoon, Raven and I made a pit stop at the coffee shop on campus. We hadn’t seen each other much of this week and the irrational part of my brain wanted to tell me she was avoiding me because of Friday night. My lack of sleep bought into those lies and I ordered an extra shot of espresso in my drink to hopefully kick those thoughts out of my brain.
“Four shots?” Raven asked, side-eying me. “It’s only the end of September, Em.”
I shrugged. “Caffeine keeps me going.”
“Sleep could also keep you going.”
“Mhm. And when was the last time you, Miss Engineering Major, got a full eight hours of sleep?” I challenged, jutting my chin out. The three of us – me, Raven, and Jasper – have barely been at the apartment at the same time in at least two weeks. I missed my roommates.
She raised her hands. “Fair point.”
I paid for the coffee and Raven and I slid down the counter to wait for our beverages. Raven launched into a story about one of her classes (and I swore I was paying attention) when a vaguely familiar blonde head of hair appeared behind the coffee bar. She steamed milk for a different drink and didn’t notice me, but I couldn’t help but lose a bit of focus as I watched her work.
Raven elbowed me. “Are you even listening?”
“I’m sorry, I was,” I replied, trying to redirect my focus. “You were saying?”
“I was telling you about this idiot that came into Sinclair’s garage yesterday,” Raven replied.
“How bad was the car?”
“It was so bad, Em.”
She went into detail about the shape the car was in and I listened, this time not letting the pretty girl behind the coffee bar distract me. Raven and I laughed at one of the anticodes of the garage when I saw my iced latte order slide to the end of the counter. My shoulders sagged in relief when I noticed my drink was the correct shade of tan today. (Sometimes the color of my coffee indicated how well the rest of the day was going to go.)
“You got a death wish or something?” the blonde girl asked, glancing over at me.
“Excuse me?” I asked, taking the cup. She’d drawn a small crown underneath my name. Raven’s cup, which appeared a few seconds after mine, simply had her name on it.
“That’s the second coffee you’ve ordered today,” she replied. “Between that and the cigarettes, I’m surprised you’ve made it this far.”
“Maybe I take better care of myself than you think,” I argued. “Which would make sense since you don’t know me at all.”
“Well, since we keep running into each other, maybe I should,” she said easily, finally looking over at me. Her piercing blue eyes had the same effect on me as they did in the library: they nearly knocked the wind out of me. Her eyes were a different shade than Murphy’s; his were more of a blue-gray and hers were bright as a cloudless sky. God, I shouldn’t have even fucking compared the two.
“Yeah?” I replied, proud of myself for keeping my composure. I glanced at Raven, but she’s dutifully ignoring us and focusing on her phone. “You’d be into that?”
“Only one way to find out,” the girl replied smoothly. She grabbed a napkin from the side of the bar and took a sharpie, writing a name and phone number on it. “Maybe next time we can share the desk.”
Raven coughed next to me and I flushed, taking the napkin from her. Sparks danced across my skin from where our fingers brushed. When I locked eyes with the barista, I could tell she felt it too. I quickly put the napkin in my pocket, not wanting to make her think I was gawking. But maybe it was too late for that.
Our moment ended when two more empty cups got placed in front of her. She winked at me before returning to work. I was half convinced my face was on fire as Raven and I walked away from the counter.
“Jesus Christ, Rhodes,” Raven replied, shaking her head in amusement. “I can’t take you anywhere.”
I grinned at her. “I take that as a compliment, thanks.”
“Of course you do.”
We walked out of the coffee bar and back onto campus, the napkin burning a hole in my pocket. I wouldn’t use it until later – I didn’t want to be more of a distraction with Raven. But maybe the coffee myth had some truth to it: if my coffee was the right color, it was going to be a good day.
It had yet to prove me wrong.
Even I had to admit that I looked good as I took a step back from the mirror. The weather started to turn as October rapidly approached, so I slipped a pair of black tights underneath my mini skirt. The tights still looked hot when I paired it with the bright blue v-neck shirt, though. I knew I was potentially overdressed for dinner and a drink, but this date felt different than any of the other hookups I’d had that weren’t Murphy. It could be because I knew who I was meeting in twenty minutes. (Clarke, the blonde girl from the library and the coffee shop.) You’d think that would make me less nervous, but I was actually nervous – and I was never nervous for dates. Especially first ones.
In the reflection of the mirror, Jasper leaned against the doorway. It’d taken me a few minutes to notice him and I smiled when we made eye contact. He’d been out most of the afternoon with Monty and Harper, so it was nice to see him – even if it was brief. I missed him, but not enough to cancel plans at the last minute.
“Damn, who are you cleaning up for?” he asked.
“A date.”
He raised his brow. “Murphy finally got the guts to ask you on a proper date?”
“Nope. Not him.”
“Of course not,” he grumbled. “Who’s the lucky winner then?”
“A girl named Clarke,” I replied. “I met her in the library last week, then ran into her again at the coffee shop.”
“Sounds like fate.”
“Or good timing,” I said with a shrug, adjusting my curls to the back of my shoulder. “I do look good, don’t I?”
“Surprisingly,” another voice remarked from the door. Through the reflection in the mirror, I saw Murphy walk into the apartment. He looked effortlessly good in his black shirt and black jeans, and there was a small piece of regret sitting in the bottom of my stomach. “Your roommate left the door unlocked.”
Jasper shrugged. “I’ve only been back for like, five minutes.” He glanced between me and Murphy, clearly unsure if he should stay or go. There was a part of me that didn’t want Jasper to leave. Not because I was afraid of being alone with Murphy – but because there was a good chance that if it was the two of us alone and he continued looking at me like that, I’d actually cancel my date with Clarke and stay in with Murphy instead.
But it was too late to cancel – and I didn’t want to ruin my chances.
“You should still be more careful,” Murphy replied.
Jasper gave him a lopsided smile. “Aw,” he said, touching his heart. “It’s almost like you care.”
Before I could talk myself out of it, I glanced at Jasper. “Give us a minute, would you? I’ve got fifteen minutes before I have to meet Clarke.”
“Fifteen minutes is plenty of time,” Jasper said, looking between us.
I rolled my eyes and resisted the urge to flip him off.
“I’ll be in my room,” he continued, his gaze back on Murphy. “Just on the other side of the wall.”
“Noted,” Murphy replied, unfazed.
Jasper watched him as he backed out of my room. He only broke eye contact to give me a knowing look and I shook my head. I half expected the tension to disappear when my roommate left Murphy and I alone, but it didn’t. It only skyrocketed.
A moment of silence passed between us. I didn’t hear Jasper’s door close so I knew he was listening to every word. I knew he meant well, but after I confessed Murphy’s recent actions to him over a roommate dinner, Jasper’s distaste for Murphy was stronger than ever. Even if I tried to convince him that things were fine. I wasn’t sure why I asked Jasper to give us a few minutes, but Murphy rarely popped over here unannounced. A quick glance at my phone showed me that was the case, too. There wasn’t a you around? text on my homescreen. He’d just appeared.
“Did you say Clarke?” Murphy asked, finally ending the silence. “As in – Clarke Griffin?”
“I don’t know her last name,” I admitted. “But there can’t be many female Clarke’s on campus.”
“No, I guess not,” he said, his eyes still on me. “Where are you going?”
“If I wanted an interrogation before my date, I would have expected Jamie at my door instead of you,” I said, not bothering to hide the edge in my voice.
“It was just a question, Rhodes.”
“Was it? Because it sounds more like something a jealous boyfriend would ask.”
Murphy rolled his eyes. “I’m not your boyfriend. You can date whoever you want.”
“Are you sure about that?” I asked, daring to take a step closer to him. His jaw ticked and something brewed in his blue eyes, but he didn't answer. Didn’t confirm nor deny if he was jealous – and a little thrill ran through me at the thought. “Because you don’t seem sure.”
“Nothing’s changed between us.”
“Oh, I’m aware,” I replied. I took another step closer, close enough that I could breathe in his scent of cigarettes and coffee. I focused on his face, even as his arms hung tensely next to him. “But this is the most you’ve seemed interested about who I’m going out with so there has to be a reason. And you never come by here unannounced.”
“Do I need a reason?” he asked, flexing his hand like he wanted to reach out and touch me but didn’t. He took a step closer and soon there was barely an inch of space between us. Heat rushed through me at just this proximity to Murphy, and the way he was looking at me now–
“I guess not. But I can tell there is – and in typical Murphy fashion, you won’t tell me what it is.”
“Would you cancel your plans if I told you?” he asked, and the question caught me off guard.
I considered it. But I liked Clarke – she was witty, smart, and pretty. If I was being honest, I hadn’t felt close to a connection with the other people I hooked up with these past few weeks, but her… she was different. I could feel it, and I had a sneaking suspicion that Murphy felt it, too. And besides, there was no way to know if he wanted me to cancel plans.
“No, I wouldn’t.”
Murphy took a step back. This man hadn’t even touched me and I felt like I was on fire from being near him. But I owed it to myself to find out if there was something beyond an initial connection with Clarke. If there was something else out there than… whatever Murphy and I are. Something more.
“Then it doesn’t matter, does it?” he asked, slipping his hands in his back pockets.
“Guess not,” I replied, my throat thick as tension coiled through me.
He nodded once, somehow already at the bedroom door. I didn’t want him to leave – I wanted to pull him back in and throw him down on my bed, show him how great we were together and how great we could be if we could get our shit fucking together – but I didn’t. I stood still and watched as he rested his hand on the doorframe.
“Have fun on your date,” he said, and before I could get another word in, before I could stream together a single conscious thought, he was out the door.
I was breathless but I shook it off – shook him off – and turned all my attention back to the first date I was actually excited about. I pulled her name up in my contacts, grabbed my bag and my keys, and headed out the door. I texted Clarke and my hands shook slightly as I closed the door behind me.
on my way! looking forward to tonight <3
Chapter 6: it's supposed to be fun, turning twenty-one
Chapter Text
Midnight on October 12th rolled around in an anticlimactic manner as I curled up in my bed alone. Anticipation and excitement for both the day ahead and going home for Fall Break to see my mom for the long weekend built in my stomach and kept me tossing and turning. I could already picture the fiery leaves reflecting on the still water of the lake; Maya Hart’s inevitable push for an apple cider run (with Jasper leading the charge like it was a competitive sport while still denying his crush on her); and Octavia – Bellamy’s younger sister, but more importantly my second favorite theatre partner-in-crime – plotting her annual pumpkin patch photo op for Instagram like it was her full time job.
Maya would be there, along with Samantha Fox and Nick Winters, slipping easily into our group selfies without protest. She never posted them, but she had them hanging up in her room, printed on polaroids and hanging from fairy lights. I had a few copies of different pictures scattered in my apartment, too – like the one of the six of us ice skating with cups of hot chocolate – framed on my nightstand.The thought of that easy, familiar rhythm – bonfires, hay rides, and festivals gave me something to look forward to at the end of midterm chaos.
And for a few days, I could forget about everything else, too.
James and I planned on driving home together tomorrow after our birthday celebration. Sometimes our mom would Facetime us at midnight (like she did our first year at college), but last year, she called us later in the morning so I wasn’t quite sure what to expect today.
I tried going back to sleep, but stress from midterms and everything going on with Clarke and Murphy kept me awake.
Murphy hadn’t put much effort in seeing me the last few days, since he came to my apartment before my date with Clarke. Clarke and I texted regularly. I planned to take her to The Dropship tonight with me — not an official second date since my friends would be there (and Murphy), but I wanted to spend some time with her today too. I wasn’t used to having this strong of an attraction toward another girl; it fucking terrified me and exhilarated me all at once. There were hookups, of course – half of my Roster was filled with other girls’ names – but none who mattered.
Until her.
The apartment was quiet. Jasper was asleep in his own bed in the next room and Raven said she was going out the night before. I didn’t even mind that much; I liked having one of them home with me. Especially when I heard the door push open. My heart lurched in my chest and I pulled my covers closer to my chin, laying as still as I could.
My phone lit up and it was a text from Jasper. Disappointment washed through me as the minutes tick past midnight and there was no Facetime call or text from James. Still, I glanced at the text from my roommate and frowned at it. Not a happy birthday, but a simple:
did you hear that?
I rolled my eyes and typed back. aren’t you supposed to be the man of the house?
A snort snuck through the walls of our rooms and I grinned. Even as there was another thump in the dark. you and i both know that title belongs to raven and she was out tonight, remember?
Me: maybe it’s just her coming home
Jasper: maybe you should go check just to be sure
such a wuss, I typed and tossed a middle finger emoji in our thread. Nevertheless, I slipped out of bed, my shoes the closest thing in my room to a weapon. I grabbed both of them in my hands and tried to slink out the door, my heart in my throat. My hands ran along the wall to find the light switch and I threw it on, hoping that it might deter the attacker more than my converse sneakers.
Still, I raised the shoes as the apartment flooded with light and–
“Jesus Christ, Emma,” a familiar voice said. “What are you gonna do, beat me to death with your shoe?”
It took me a second to recover before I grinned at my brother, who was somehow standing in my apartment after midnight. “Maybe I wasn’t joking about getting a knife for my birthday.”
“I still think a woman’s hotter with an ax,” Raven replied. She grinned at me as I ignored her and ran towards James, who thankfully caught me in the hug. If Raven was the mastermind behind sneaking James into my apartment on our birthday, I could forgive her for flirting with Murphy the other night. I mean, he was hot. Not like I can blame her for that.
“I’m not giving you a knife on your birthday,” James deadpanned, tightening his grip on my waist. Any disappointment rushed out of me – this was way better than a Facetime call.
“Excuse me, some of us are trying to get our beauty sleep,” Jasper said. He came out of his room and rubbed his eyes dramatically at the light.
“Way to ruin a touching moment, asshole,” I replied, breaking apart from my brother.
“Why are we having a touching moment at 12:15 in the morning?” he asked, surveying the room. It took him a minute to register that James was here, but once he did, he grinned. “Oh, hey.”
He seemed thoroughly unsurprised that my brother was here, which made me think the three of them planned this without me. It was a bit dramatic considering he lived on the floor below me, but it was still unexpected – and nice to be surprised on my birthday. There was even a ‘happy birthday’ banner on the wall over the couch. My heart swelled as I glanced at my roommates but I didn’t say anything to them. If I did, there was a good chance I’d probably start crying.
“You only turn 21 once, right?” James asked, looking back at me. “I’m honestly surprised Jasper was able to keep this a secret for as long as he did.”
“Excuse me,” Jasper argued. “I am an excellent secret keeper. I know all your secrets.”
I arched my brow at him.
“Okay, I know all your secrets,” Jasper amended, pointing to me and Raven. “This was easy enough to keep.”
“If you say so,” Raven replied. “I was convinced you were gonna spill the beans the other day.”
He placed a hand on his heart, a dramatic look of hurt moving across his face. Jasper Jordan, everyone: the best actor in Apartment 5B. “I am devastated, Reyes.”
“Anyway,” Raven said, clearing her throat. “Since you’re both 21, I thought we’d do the honors here.”
Before I could ask her what she meant, she broke out a bottle of whiskey from one of our cabinets. I looked between them and tried to brush off the sinking feeling that someone important from the group was missing. Not that I expected him to be a part of James breaking into my apartment at midnight, but his absence was noticeable.
James seemed to notice the slight change in my mood because he glanced over at me. “You only turn 21 once, right?” he asked again.
“Right,” I agreed, clearing my throat and focusing back on the moment at hand.
When I was younger, I used to hate having to share my birthday with him. As I’ve gotten older, though, I wasn’t sure what I would do if I didn’t have him to celebrate with.
Jasper had his phone out and ready, and I knew he was recording as James and I picked up the shots. It wasn’t technically our first legal drink since we weren’t out at the bars, but since our apartment is off-campus, it wasn’t technically… illegal.
“Happy birthday, Em,” James said, clinking his glass with mine. “The best little sister a guy could ask for.”
“I am one minute younger,” I grumbled through my smile. “And I’m definitely a menace.”
“Emma–”
I nudged him. “Happy birthday, Jamie.”
He rolled his eyes and we took the shots at the same time. Raven snapped a photo while Jasper recorded the video. If there was one thing about my group of friends, it was that there would almost always be photo evidence of whatever shenanigans we got involved in.
It was only twenty-one minutes into my birthday, but I could already tell it was going to be special. As long as I ignored that slight pang in my chest. He wasn’t my boyfriend – but he was still supposed to be my friend, right?
The rest of the day passed the same as any other Thursday. James and I went about our normal schedule, the warmth from the shot of whiskey fading by the time I woke back up. Even with my phone on silent, I was still bombarded with notifications and text messages whenever I checked it. Everyone from back home texted me, Octavia being her typical self and sending me a 'happy birthday, old lady' meme at one am. The rest trickled in throughout the day, already planning firepit sing-alongs and late-night smokes on the dock.
I loved them so much. Their messages were a steady reminder that even though I shared the day with my twin, I wasn’t just James’ sister. I had my own friends, my own rhythms, my own life outside of him – even at home.
No one commented on the lack of Murphy/Roster updates or Clarke's faceless arms and legs I'd casually posted on Instagram (with her consent), but I knew they'd be ready with questions the second we were all together.
Murphy finally texted me somewhere after noon. There was no indication if he knew about the midnight shot: only a simple ‘happy birthday, rhodes two’. It was how he had me and James in our contacts. I tried to reply with a witty ‘it’s rhodes the second to you’ but it fell flatter than I meant.
Clarke checked in earlier that morning, confirming that she was coming to the party at The Dropship that night. I wasn’t going to ask her to come but it felt wrong not to include her. So now I had to somehow explain our relationship (or lack thereof) to all my friends, my brother, and the guy I’m not seeing.
It was gonna be a great night.
At least there was one thing to be grateful for today: our father didn’t try to contact me. I’d get a stupid card in the mail in three weeks, but for now, I didn’t have to deal with stiff pleasantries from the man who would much rather forget I existed. If he’d been in touch with James, the Golden Boy Who Could Do No Wrong, my brother had been wise enough to keep his mouth shut.
By the time I got to The Dropship with James and Clarke, the bar was packed. Not just for us. It was the Thursday before Fall Break, so everyone was out getting drunk one last time before going home and dealing with their families. James didn’t ask too many questions when I introduced him to Clarke, and the two of them chatted about something science-related as we walked in.
“I don’t know if I should be offended if you’re getting along with my date better than me,” I teased James, nudging him in the arm.
“Listen, someone has to keep her entertained while you entertain the party guests,” James replied.
“I’d much rather entertain the party guests with you, don’t worry,” Clarke said smoothly, putting her arm through mine.
I grinned. “This party is for you too, bro.”
“If you say so,” he said. “I’m gonna go get us a drink. Shots?”
“Yes please. Clarke?”
Without missing a beat, Clarke grinned and said, “I’m in.”
James walked away, leaving Clarke and I alone in the sea of bodies that filtered through The Dropship. We hadn’t spent much time together since the date, but we Facetimed the other night and it was nice to see her. Really nice. I glanced over at her and somehow couldn’t believe that she agreed to come with me – she was hot as hell in jeans and boots. Her black tee-shirt dipped just enough to give me a sneak peek.
She smiled when she caught my gaze. “Like what you see?”
“Maybe,” I said as casually as I could. “I’m glad you came tonight.”
“Meeting the friends and family – bold choice for a second date,” she teased.
“Well, it’s really just my brother. And if we’re gonna keep seeing each other, you should know who my friends are.”
“Are we?” she asked. A coy smile spread on her lips and a spark danced in her eyes.
“I’d hope so,” I replied, pulling her closer. “I mean, you did walk in here knowing you’d meet everyone.”
“I did, didn’t I?”
“Mhm. Having second thoughts?”
“Hmm,” she said, pulling me closer and wrapping an arm around my waist. Her face leaned close to mine, our noses brushing at the contact. Heat flashed through me as I tightened my grip. “I could use some convincing.”
As I was about to close the distance between us, James reappeared, three shot glasses in his hand. We broke apart as quickly as we’d drawn together.
“One for you,” James said, passing it to Clarke. She took it, winking at me. “One for you,” he continued, passing one to me. I took it, winking back at her. “And one for me. Cheers, ladies.”
Clarke laughed and it was a sound I could get used to hearing. “Cheers, mate,” she said, and the three of us knocked back another shot.
I was so fucking glad she was here.
“Your girl seems to be fitting in well,” a familiar voice remarked as the door to The Dropship closed.
Laughter and conversation muffled as I stepped outside into the cool autumn air. Stars danced across the sky leaving enough light that I could see Murphy’s shadowy figure as he leaned against the small rock wall across the door.
A smile curved across my lips. “She is, isn’t she?”
I reached for a pack of cigarettes in my bag. I slid one out and before I even searched for my lighter, Murphy stood in front of me. He reached out, his hand brushing against my knuckles. Heat flashed through me at the touch but Murphy only lifted his lighter. He lit my cigarette, his blue eyes searching mine before taking a step back. I brought it to my lips and for a moment, neither of us spoke as we smoked in silence. Murphy took another step back, his free hand flexing at his side.
“So she’s your girl, then?” Murphy asked. His sharp voice cut through the silence. It was a voice I’d only heard once before – in my bedroom at the apartment when I was getting ready for the date. He wasn’t… jealous, was he?
I snuck a glance over at him. I wasn’t sure how much to reveal. If I wanted Clarke to be my girl or if I liked spending time with her. Or how terrified I was about what wanting more with Clarke would mean. But then I thought about her laugh, the way her eyes lit up right before a smartass comment came out of her mouth. How much I wanted that mouth to–
“I’m not sure yet,” I admitted.
Murphy was silent again. I wasn’t sure what I expected him to say. I wasn’t sure why I tended to have these sky-high expectations for him when he’d made himself perfectly clear. But there was something about the way he came to my apartment that night. It wasn’t like I hadn’t turned him down before, because I had. He almost seemed… disappointed.
“I see,” Murphy replied after what felt like an eternity. “Are you happy?”
This caught my attention. I looked over at him but he hadn’t moved from his spot on the far side of the patio. As if he was purposely keeping his distance from me.
“I don’t know,” I answered carefully. “I could be.”
“With her?”
I shrugged. “Maybe.”
Murphy didn’t respond. We stood together and smoked, tension thick as the smoke between us. I glanced over at him again, but his gaze was locked ahead. I wanted him to do something, to say something – but what? Why the fuck did I have to expect anything from him at all?
“You should get back to your party,” Murphy finally replied.
“You coming back in?” I asked, masking the familiar feeling of disappointment.
“I’m not sure yet.” He glanced over at me and our eyes met for a split second.
I didn’t say anything. I finished my cigarette and nodded once, stomping it out with my foot. Our eyes locked one more time and a silent conversation passed between us before I turned and walked back inside. The door shut behind me, leaving Murphy on the other side.
He didn’t follow.
I shook it off – shook him off – as I surveyed the crowd. Across the bar, Clarke engaged in a conversation with Jasper, Monty, and Harper. Her head was thrown back as she laughed at one of Jasper’s jokes. My heart swelled and I walked over, already knowing the answer to Murphy’s question. It meant I’d have to end things with him – once and for all. An ache sat in my chest at the mere idea of an all-too familiar conversation but I knew it was for the better. It had to be.
“What’s so funny?” I asked, approaching them. My hand ran along Clarke’s shoulders before my arm settled across them loosely. She smiled and looked genuinely happy to be here – and how fucking nice it was to be able to tell she wanted to be here.
“Jasper was regaling us with the time the two of you got high at your dad’s house and you fell out of the treehouse,” Clarke replied. She bit her lip in an attempt to hold in the laughter and my eyes dipped with the movement before I could help it.
“That really is your favorite story to tell, isn’t it?” I teased, smiling at him.
“Nothing beats it,” he said solemnly, a hand over his heart.
“Or there’s the time you screamed bloody murder in the middle of the night because of a couple of rag dolls,” I replied, stealing Clarke’s drink and taking a sip of it.
“Hey,” Jasper began, already defensive. “That’s because they are creepy and you put them in the bottom of my bed.”
Clarke looked at me. “You didn’t, did you?”
“Oh, I did.”
“And she already knew I have a perfectly logical fear of dolls–”
“Naturally,” Clarke agreed with a smirk as Raven and James walked over with Nate Miller.
“So what are we drinking?” Raven asked, looking between the five of us.
Jasper lifted his head, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I think another round of shots for the birthday twins!”
The door opened and Murphy was back inside, and we were finally together. “Did I hear something about shots?” Murphy asked, casting a brief glance to me and my arm around Clarke’s shoulder.
I didn’t move my arm.
“Indeed, Sir,” Jasper replied, grinning at the group of us.
I couldn’t help but marvel that all my favorite people were in the same room at the same time. Raven and Miller must have appeared sometime while I was outside smoking and I was so glad to see the both of them. But there was a small part of me that had this sinking feeling that this was going to be the last time seeing everyone together. Especially as my gaze locked with Murphy’s again and my heart clenched, knowing what had to come next.
“Lead the way,” Murphy remarked, gesturing for me and James to step to the front.
“After you,” I said, motioning for James to go ahead.
“No no, after you.”
The two of us made our way to the bar, our friends following close behind. To the beginning. Or the end.
Chapter 7: now your silence has me screaming
Chapter Text
When I woke up the next morning, the room spun. I blinked a few times and tried to get it to stop but that only seemed to make it worse. I sat up in bed and glanced at my phone for the time – 8am, thankfully plenty of time to try and get myself together before my first class of the day. There were a couple of unread texts from Clarke on my homescreen and I couldn’t help the smile that made its way onto my face. I’d been a little disappointed that she hadn’t been in my bed that morning, but it was probably for the best. I needed to get my shit together a little first, but given the fact that she’d texted me goodnight and checked in to see how I was feeling this morning all before 8am must have meant that I didn’t embarrass myself too badly.
It also must have meant that my friends – Jasper specifically – didn’t embarrass me either. And maybe… just maybe she liked me as much as I was starting to like her.
Out of habit, I looked to see if there was a text from Murphy. There wasn’t.
Pull yourself together, Rhodes. You made your choice.
Memories of the night before swam through my head – dancing, laughter, and a horrendous round of pool stuck out specifically. It should’ve been a perfect night. And given the severity of my headache, I knew there’d been plenty of alcohol involved. And of course, there was Clarke. Smart, funny, beautiful Clarke who kept up with my friends’ shenanigans and didn’t scare off easily. Fit in almost too well with the group.
And yet… She wasn’t Murphy.
But Murphy wasn’t here either.
At least, that’s what I thought until the door to my bedroom opened and he walked in. “Here,” he said, passing me a glass of water.
I looked at it, then back at him. He was fully dressed, wearing a pair of jeans and a dark green tee-shirt that fit almost too well. His tattoo snaked down his arm and I had to force myself to look back at his face, still utterly lost as to why he was here.
“What are you doing here?” I asked. It came out harsher than I meant it, but he simply shrugged.
“You invited me.”
I blinked at him. “I did? But Clarke–”
“She’s cool,” he said, sitting down next to me. “But she’s not me. You know that, right?”
“But Murphy, I–”
“John,” he corrected, shifting closer to me. “My name is John.”
“But–”
Murphy put his finger to my lips and silenced me with a simple gesture. We maintained eye contact, even as his hand slipped from my mouth to the nape of my neck. His thumb brushed across my cheek and for a moment, I forgot about the hangover and Clarke. All that existed was us. He usually wasn’t this tender when we were together but I simply filed that piece of information away.
“She’s not me, Emma,” he said again, his voice rough. “You know who the right choice is.”
Before I had the chance to respond, his head dipped to the side and his nose brushed against mine. His lips met mine, tender and sweet and somehow completely capable of making me melt on the spot. Murphy’s free hand moved to my waist, pulling me closer as his fingers grazed against my skin. I let myself lean into him, into this kiss and this moment – his declaration that he didn’t want me with anyone else. It was the moment I’d been waiting for, the sign that it really was meant to be and we were just two helpless idiots. At least when it came to each other.
I shifted on the bed and moved so my legs spread in front of him. He pulled me closer, his hands snaking up my back and –
I woke up with a start, my phone alarm blaring in the darkness. Groaning, I rolled over and turned it off before tossing it on the floor. I was about to turn back over when nausea clung to my stomach. My feet hit the floor and I bee-lined it to the bathroom, relieved neither of my roommates were in there. Thankfully I managed to get to the toilet before I threw up, coughing last night’s alcohol and whatever food I’d eaten into the bowl.
The tiles were cool against my legs and I clutched onto the base of the toilet, resting my cheek against it. Everything with Murphy – him coming to my room, fighting for us – it had all been a dream. I should’ve known when he called me Emma. Fuck, I should’ve known when he’d expressed his fucking feelings that it wasn’t real. But God, I wanted it to be real so fucking badly. I just wanted him to get his shit together – I wanted us to get our shit together.
Knuckles rapped on the other side of the bathroom door. “Em?” Jasper’s voice asked, poking his head inside.
“I’m here,” I managed, my voice sore as another round threatened to surface. “I’m fine–”
“No, you’re not,” he said. He quickly crossed the distance between the door and to where I was on the floor and sat next to me. He rested his hand on my back and pulled my hair away from my shoulders just in the nick of time.
At least with Jasper I didn’t have to worry about being embarrassed. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen me like this before – so hungover I could barely function. Hell, he’d seen me blackout drunk and somehow managed to get me back home and into a different change of clothes without a single hint of judgment on his face.
We sat like that in relative silence, nothing but the sounds coming from my throat. Jasper continued to rub my back, quietly humming under his breath. I didn’t realize how tense I was until my body started to relax and my shoulders sagged as I leaned against him for support.
And that was when the tears started – before I even realized they were happening.
“I really wanted it to be him,” I managed, hating how fucking pathetic I sounded. And honestly, that was another reason – I’d already let myself get way too attached when I swore I’d never get that way about someone else again.
“I know,” Jasper said, his voice soft as his fingers played with the end of my hair. “But it’s not.”
“I know,” I replied, a strangled sob catching in my throat. “I know.”
Somehow I managed to pull myself together enough to get up off of the bathroom floor. I wasn’t sure how long Jasper and I were there, but he never left my side. Even when it meant missing his 8:30am class. I’d tried to protest, telling him the supervision wasn’t necessary, but he insisted. I guess there were a few perks to living with someone who’d known you almost your whole life. We’d grown up together and he’d seen me through the worst of my heartbreak over Bellamy, and now he saw me here.
And another perk? He wasn’t my twin brother. Jasper was protective in his own right and I could see the fire in his eyes when we finally left the bathroom, but unlike my twin brother, he didn’t threaten to kill Murphy. And I didn’t have to worry that he actually might do it. (Don’t let the golden retriever personality fool you – my brother was insanely protective of me.)
I’d missed my first class too, but that was fine. It was the day before Fall Break and I never missed a class – I’d just email my professor that I’d gotten sick the night before and it wouldn’t exactly be a lie.
I managed to take a shower, do my hair and makeup, and made myself presentable by noon. Raven was in and out of classes all morning so her absence didn’t surprise me, but she still checked in with a few texts to see how I was feeling. (She wasn’t there to witness the whole scope of things and I sure as shit wasn’t going to tell her.)
By the time the afternoon rolled around, I knew what I had to do. I’d skipped my morning coffee and opted for water instead, but that only seemed to make the headache worse. I tried to ignore it, though, as I made my way back to the apartment building and pushed the elevator for one less floor.
In theory, I knew this shouldn’t be difficult. In theory, I knew that Murphy likely wouldn’t care and would continue to go about his life as if nothing happened. And yet…
And yet I probably wouldn’t have been sobbing on the bathroom floor if our time together hadn’t meant something to me. Unsurprisingly, the Roster had been fucking useless.
The elevator dinged and I got out. I steeled myself, walking toward apartment 4D with purpose, running over my speech in my head. It would be quick. To the point. And he’d have no idea how fucking badly I was hurt. By my own goddamn actions.
Finally, I arrived at the door. I didn’t hesitate as I knocked, trying not to think about the last few times I’d been here.
I glanced down as my phone chirped with a new notification. I smiled as a text from Jasper came across my screen – I wasn’t surprised he’d been checking in with my location.
you got this 👍
I pocketed my phone as the door opened and Murphy stood on the opposite side. I almost snorted – he was wearing dark jeans and a dark green shirt, the same one from my dream the night before.
Murphy arched a brow. “Was I expecting you?”
“Do you ever?”
“Good point,” he said. “What’s up?”
“We need to talk,” I replied, ignoring the way my heart pounded in my chest. “Can I come in?”
“Yeah,” he said, stepping to the side and opening the door wider for me. “Everything okay?”
I walked in, shoving my hands in my pockets. “Is Jamie home?” I asked, even though I already knew the answer.
“No.”
“Okay,” I said, not making eye contact with him. “Good.”
“Rhodes? What’s–?”
I rocked on the balls of my feet, looking anywhere but at him. In my head, this was over in five minutes. In my head, I was strong and determined and I was the one who broke his heart instead of the other way around. But in reality, all I could do was take a steadying breath and brace myself for the worst.
“We can’t do this anymore.”
At first, Murphy didn’t say anything. There was a chance I hadn’t said it – that I just thought it and looking at him made me lose my courage. But there was a tick in his jaw that hadn’t been there when he’d opened the door. He’d almost smiled at me. (He hadn’t, because heaven forbid Murphy show that he was excited to see me, but his lips had curled just slightly.)
“Can’t do what, exactly?” he asked, his eyes running over my face.
I gave him a look. “This,” I replied with more confidence than I felt. “Us.”
He crossed his arms. “I thought there wasn’t an us.”
“Don’t do that,” I snapped. “Don’t patronize me when you know this means something to you too.”
“So what? You like Clarke, don’t you?” he asked. He looked me over again, clearly noting the surprise on my face. “I saw the two of you last night. That’s what you came over to tell me, right? That you choose her.”
“I’m not choosing anyone,” I argued. Frustration coiled in my stomach. So what if I was choosing Clarke over him? He didn’t need to know that. “I’m ending this. Our arrangement.”
“Mhm.”
“In case you’re wondering, this is why.”
“I wasn’t, but noted.”
I glared at him. He maintained eye contact, the air thick around us. I couldn’t be that delusional. There was no fucking way that there wasn’t some small part of him that didn’t like what was going on between us. The sex was too good, too raw for it not to. There was no way we would’ve come back into the same habits after last year if there wasn’t some underlying reason beyond attraction.
“Was there something else?” he prompted after another minute of excruciating silence.
I hesitated, glancing up at him. “No,” I said, anger flashing through me. “I guess not.”
“Okay,” he replied. “Enjoy your break.”
The temptation to flip him off overwhelmed me. Instead, I gave a curt nod and left the apartment. The door closed loudly behind me but I barely registered it.
At least I was right about one thing: it was quick.
“Em?” a familiar voice asked from around the corner. A few seconds later, my brother appeared. He smiled when he saw me. Somehow, despite keeping up with me and Jasper at the bar last night, James wasn’t nearly as embarrassingly hungover as I was. “What are you doing here? Was I expecting you?”
“Nope,” I replied, my voice tight. “Just passing through.”
“Okay,” he said skeptically. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m good,” I replied as casually as I could. “Still hungover from last night.”
“Ah,” he said, glancing between me and the door. He clearly didn’t believe me but at least he had the decency to not push too hard. “Still up for going home today? I figured we’d leave before dinner and stop for food on the way, then get home by 8ish.”
Sitting in a car with my brother for two hours while my insides somehow managed to rearrange themselves sounded fucking awful. But instead, I smiled at him. “Yeah, sounds great. I still need to pack but that shouldn’t take long.”
“Yeah, of course. Text me when you’re ready and we’ll go from there.”
I nodded. “Cool. We should tell Mom when we’re leaving.”
“Mhm,” he said, looking between me and the door again. “Oh, and Emma?”
“Yeah?” I asked, already starting to turn toward the elevator at the end of the hall.
“I know about you and Murphy.”
Chapter 8: 'cause you were never mine
Chapter Text
10 hours earlier
The Dropship was packed. Not for the first time, Murphy was relieved he’d had enough notice to ask for tonight off instead of being stuck behind the bar, pouring drinks for the drunk Rhodes twins. Not even the tips would’ve been worth it – because not only would he have to deal with a drunk James and Emma while he was sober, he’d also have to deal with the frat guys and sorority girls trying to get as many free drinks as possible.
So when James had told him he had no choice but to come to their 21st birthday party, Murphy agreed without hesitation. Besides, James was his best friend – it wasn’t hard to want to celebrate him. And Emma was… well, she was Emma.
He knew neither of them expected gifts from him, but his mom had raised him otherwise. You go to a party, you bring something. You celebrate someone’s birthday, you get them something. James had been easy enough to shop for, but what the fuck was he supposed to get the girl he supposedly wasn’t dating? It took him a while to figure out the perfect gift, but once he did, it didn’t take him long to draw it. But Murphy wouldn’t give it to her at the bar – that was way too embarrassing, especially if James or Raven saw what it was. He’d wait until after. He wasn’t sure if Emma would be coming home with him, but he was sure they’d be alone enough at some point in the night where he could give it to her.
At least, that was before. Before she’d come to her twenty-first birthday, walking into a bar packed with all of her friends and her twin brother, with another girl. A date. And not just any date – the same date she’d been nervous about. With Clarke fucking Griffin.
It wasn’t supposed to bother him. They’d never changed the rules. But he’d thought something shifted after that conversation they’d had a while back and then he’d gone to her apartment looking for her and she–
It didn’t fucking matter. Clearly.
After their tense conversation on the rooftop, Murphy was more than happy to satisfy Jasper’s suggestion of taking shots for the birthday twins. He usually didn’t let himself get too drunk, needing to be the parent friend who made sure James and Raven got home safe, but fuck it. Tonight would be the exception. After all, rules had exceptions – didn’t they?
“You might want to slow down there,” Raven remarked, settling herself down on the stool next to him.
“It’s a party,” he deadpanned. “Isn’t getting wasted the point?”
“For some,” she said, her eyes drifting over to where James and Emma were dancing in the crowd. “Usually not for you.”
“Aren’t you always the one telling me to be present?” he asked, knocking back another shot of whiskey.
“Yeah, but that’s so you’re not glued to your phone every five seconds,” she replied, plucking it out of his hands as if to prove a point.
“It’s my best friend’s birthday. James would want me to relax.”
Raven arched her brow. “And are you? Relaxed?”
Murphy glared at her. “Did you have a point of coming over here, O Wise One?”
“Last I checked, you were my friend too,” she replied, not missing a beat. “Though I do approve of the nickname.”
Through the corner of his eye, Murphy saw Emma lean in to whisper something in Clarke’s ear. Clarke laughed before leaning in to kiss her as if they were the only two people in the bar. Something tightened in Murphy’s stomach but even as he tried not to focus on them, he couldn’t pull his eyes away.
“She seems happy,” Raven commented, her gaze moving to where Murphy was watching.
He tightened his grip on his glass. “Yeah.”
“And you don’t care about that?”
“Of course I want her to be happy.”
“And what about what you want?”
Murphy glanced over at her and flagged the bartender down. Echo, one of his favorite coworkers, came over almost immediately. At least he knew the drinks would be strong tonight. “I think I want another shot.”
“Murphy getting drunk on a Thursday night? I knew I picked the right night to work,” she said. She and Raven exchanged grins.
Murphy flipped her off. “Just shut up and make it a double.”
“My pleasure. Anything for you, Raven?”
“I’ll take a gin and–”
“She’s doing shots with me,” Murphy interrupted, giving her a look.
Raven sighed, glancing at Echo. “Whatever the man wants.”
“Best night ever,” Echo muttered before pulling out another shot glass.
If he was going to get drunk, he sure as fuck wasn’t going to do it alone.
A few hours, and a few shots in, Murphy found himself at a booth by himself. Raven had disappeared to go play pool with James – and definitely hustle the group of guys that was hanging out by the table. Between the two of them, they were unbeatable. Murphy almost felt bad for the guys.
He settled back against the cushions, watching the party unfold. It was different than being behind the bar, where he felt like he was in control and at ease. Here, even in a group of his closest friends, he felt… alone.
“Johnny! There you are, I’ve been looking for you.”
An amused expression betrayed his face as an extremely drunk Emma slid her way into the booth. She stopped short almost directly next to him, their arms brushing together until he moved his arm away. Even drunk and a little sweaty from dancing, she was fucking gorgeous. Not to mention she was the only one allowed to call him Johnny and she only did it when she was drunk.
God, he was fucked.
“You found me,” he said. “Having fun at your party?”
“Yes,” she said, nodding. “Jasper throws the best ones, doesn’t he?”
“He’s always reliable for a good time,” Murphy agreed. “Why were you looking for me? Didn’t you come here with a hot date or something?”
Emma grinned, her entire face lighting up. “I did. And she is, isn’t she? Hot, I mean.”
“If you like blondes,” Murphy said casually, his eyes running over her face before he could stop them.
She kicked him under the table. “Well, I do. And she’s great.”
“If you say so.”
“I do. Why are you being so cagey? You’re the one who keeps bringing her up. Like you’re jealous.”
He ignored the last statement even as something coiled in his chest. “I’m always cagey, Rhodes.”
She snorted. “That’s an understatement.”
He arched his brow at her but for a moment, neither of them said anything. Music blared from the speakers of the bar and conversation carried all around them. Even though they were far from the rooftop at their freshman dorm, it was almost like they were transported back there. When times were easier. When they could just play card games and roast each other or smoke in silence. He would never tell her, but some of those nights that first year were some of his favorite memories of college. Even after everything changed.
“So,” Murphy finally prompted. “You wanted to find me?”
"Yeah," she said, scooting closer to him still. "I mean, we're friends, right?"
"Sure," he replied. He knew he should move away from her, that he should continue to put distance between them, but like a moth to a flame, he couldn't. "We're friends."
"So I can tell you a secret?"
"That's what friends are for, yes."
The corner of her lips twitched into a half-smile. "I like drunk Murphy," she said. "You're nice to me when you're drunk."
He rolled his eyes. "I am not drunk. And I'm always nice."
"That's bullshit. You're an asshole, but that's one of the things I like about you."
"Oh, is it?"
"Mhm. You actually let me do what I want without worrying that I'm going to fuck up my life."
"Can't imagine who you'd be referring to there," he drawled. He tore his eyes away from her and looked around the bar. James and Raven were still hustling the guys at pool and it was clear they were winning. "But it's not my place to stop you, Rhodes. It's your life."
"Right," Emma said, looking down at her hands. "So I have an answer to your question."
"What question is that?"
"If I want Clarke to be my girl or not."
"Oh," he said, promptly ignoring the way his chest tightened. "And what's the answer?"
"I think I do," she said quietly. "She's not—I mean, she's great. She's cute and really smart and we have a good time together. I just feel like… like I owe it to myself, you know? To her. To see what's out there."
Something close to disappointment simmered in his stomach. But he wouldn't let himself think about it. He'd do what he always did and push it aside. He knew their time together had an expiration date, even if they'd never set an actual one. Now that it was here, it was hard to ignore the hope that maybe they'd just conveniently forget about that part.
"Well, you don't owe anyone anything."
She squeezed her hands. "Right," she replied. "Fair warning, I'm really drunk so I might not remember having this conversation tomorrow."
Murphy glanced over to see if she was trying to deflect the seriousness of it, but he saw the glazed over look in her eyes. Personally, he was glad that he'd already had several shots of whiskey in his stomach because he wasn't sure he'd be prepared enough for this conversation otherwise.
"I'll keep that in mind."
"So you think I should?" she asked, finally meeting his gaze. "Be with her."
"If that's what you want, you should make it happen."
"And you can't think of another reason why I shouldn't?"
A heaviness hung between them at her question. If he thought the two of them being together would have been a good idea, he would've given Emma a list of reasons why she shouldn't date Clarke. But this way, he could let her go before she realized how selfish he really was. And maybe not break her heart in the process. Because between the two of them, Clarke was the smarter choice.
He shrugged as casually as he could. "I'm not your boyfriend, Rhodes. Do what you want."
Emma's expression faltered slightly but her gaze moved beyond him to somewhere in the crowd. She grinned and pushed on his arms. "I'm going to go dance."
Murphy slid out of the booth and looked over to where she was looking and found Clarke watching them. He didn't acknowledge her presence but made space for Emma to go meet her on the dance floor.
"Would you save me a dance, Johnny?" she asked, cutting his attention back to her.
"Oh, I'm not nearly drunk enough for that."
"Not even for my birthday?"
His heart constricted a little but he took one look at Clarke watching them and tried his best to smile. "Go get your girl, Rhodes."
Emma frowned — just for a heartbeat. But then she noticed Clarke waiting for her and her face broke out into a grin and she all but ran toward the dance floor, pulling the other girl with her.
Murphy watched them for a moment before moving through the crowd. He spotted James and Raven and walked over to them.
"Hey, I'm gonna head home."
The game of pool was over and the two of them were just talking, watching people dance and sipping on their drinks. There always seemed to be a comfortable companionship between the two of them and it didn't escape him now.
"Are you sure?" James asked. "The night's young."
"We have a bet going to see if Jasper can convince those three girls to dance with him," Raven said, nodding toward where Jasper stood in a group of gorgeous girls. "You should stay."
"No, I'm good. I'll call an Uber."
"Want me to come with?" Raven offered.
"No, you stay. Have fun."
James frowned but thankfully didn't push it. "Alright. We'll see you tomorrow."
"Yeah," Murphy said, already starting to head out. "Tomorrow."
Now
Now, Murphy stood in the silence of his apartment, staring out the door where Emma had just left. He remembered she warned him about not remembering their conversation at The Dropship, but fuck. He hadn't expected to hear it twice. That she was choosing Clarke over him. Not that he blamed her. She deserved to pursue whoever she wanted and if Clarke made her happy, that was all that mattered.
Honestly, he hadn't expected to care. Apparently he did.
He ran his hand over his face, trying to remember what he had to do today. It was the day of Fall Break and everyone else was going home, but he was staying behind. He knew his mom and stepdad, Ben Adler, would love to see him, but he wasn't sure he could handle being home for a few days alone with his thoughts. So he'd planned to stay behind and picked up a couple extra shifts at The Dropship. He knew Raven was staying behind this weekend too and the thought of her being nearby made it a little less unbearable. And he was pretty sure Echo was working with him tonight at the bar.
He could only imagine the commentary waiting for him there.
The door to the apartment opened and James breezed in. Murphy looked up and was about to say something when he saw the look on his best friend's face. Rage, but only if you knew where to look: the tick in his jaw, the flash in his eyes, the clenched fist at his side.
"Hey man, what's--"
Before he could get the words out, James' fist connected with his face so fast he barely saw it coming. He stumbled back, his head pounding.
"What the fuck?" Murphy demanded, looking at him. The punch had grazed his eye but he could already feel it swelling over.
"You know what you did," James said gruffly.
"No, what did I do?" he asked, doing his best not to cover his eye. Fuck, that was going to hurt like hell for a few days.
"Emma," James said, as if that explained it all. But James was impossible to talk to when he was like this — full of fire and rage. Usually only his twin (or Raven) could snap him out of it. And usually it didn't involve his fist. "You're lucky I'll be gone for a few days."
"Am I? Because I don't know what the fuck is going on."
"Maybe you should think then," James replied before storming off toward his room. He snapped the door shut behind him.
Murphy stared after him but wasn't going to give James a second chance to hit him again. He grabbed his phone and his keys before heading out the door, not bothering to stop the door from slamming shut behind him.
What a fucking day.
Chapter 9: sitting in the corner I haunt
Chapter Text
James didn’t say a word until we turned into the driveway. Forty-five minutes of stiff silence, broken only by a playlist I never would’ve chosen – pop mixed with old school punk – but I hadn’t argued. Not after I realized he knew about Murphy.
The drive may as well have lasted five hours.
“So,” he finally said, killing the engine, “you wanna tell me what happened between you and Murphy?”
“You don’t have to worry about it.”
“But you were sleeping together,” he said, glancing at me as he shut the car off.
The house loomed in front of us, all white with gray shutters and large windows. To anyone else, it would’ve looked like a big lakeside house with a dock and white picket fence, straight out of a Norman Rockwell painting with the perfect family. But the lights inside were soft and sparse, and I knew better.
Our driveway curved between tall pines and maples, their leaves scattered in gold and rust across the lawn. Beyond the house, the lake glimmered faintly in the afternoon light, still and dark against the crisp autumn sky.
Home.
“How do you even know that?” My voice was sharper than I intended, but James didn’t miss it.
James raised a brow, sliding out of the car and popping up the trunk for his suitcase. “Contrary to popular belief, I’m smarter than people give me credit for, Em.”
“Hey, that’s my line. You’re the future lawyer. Everyone knows you’re smart. And I noticed that that didn’t answer my question.”
“Future lawyer, remember? I know things,” he said evasively as I slipped out of the car.
The October air was sharp enough to make me jam my hands into the pockets of my leather jacket, the kind of crisp fall evening that always smelled faintly of woodsmoke and lake water. The porch light was on, yellow light glowing soft against white siding, and a few uncarved pumpkins and gourds sat lined up by the steps – Mom’s handiwork, no doubt. I thought of the texts from Octavia and Maya earlier in our groupchat, each with their ETAs from their own campuses and wondered if we would have time to sneak away for a quick dessert at Lakeside Roast before it closed.
Being home was always bittersweet – the lake was comforting, and Mom did her best to make this place a home, but with a house this size, it was always so empty, even when my friends or James’ were over for the night. It wasn’t uncommon for them to stay a few days; Mom had re-decorated the basement and the guest bedroom for that exact reason.
And if there was anything good left in this house, it was my mom. Somehow. And I was always excited to see her. It was just… Kane.
It was always Kane.
For someone who was never around, his presence haunted these walls like a ghost.
“Also, he’s my best friend and my roommate,” James continued, breaking through my thoughts. “Neither of you are as subtle as you think you are. It’s actually insulting you didn’t think I’d figure it out. Especially when Raven knows too.”
“Did she tell you–”
“I’ve seen you come in and out of his room more than once,” James replied, giving me an unamused look. I grabbed my bag and slung it around my shoulder, pocketing my phone. “One time you were just wearing his shirt. And you’re both kind of loud.”
My jaw dropped, humiliation flooding my face. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
He shrugged as we walked up the wooden steps of the wrap-around porch toward the front door. “Obviously it was something you didn’t feel like you could share with me. I wasn’t going to ruin that.”
I swallowed. “It’s not that, Jamie–”
“Well, that’s what it felt like.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “It wasn’t. I just–I know how protective you are and I was already getting shit from my roommates about how bad of an idea it was, I didn’t want to add one more person’s opinion into the mix.”
“You think I would’ve told you that sleeping with my roommate was a bad idea?”
“Bellamy?” I shot back, remembering the fight the two of them had gotten into junior year. God, that felt like ages ago.
James gave me a flat look as we started towards the front door. “Maybe you should stop sleeping with my best friends,” he said dryly. “Trope doesn’t seem to suit you.”
I winced – fair. And he was right.
“Well, like I said. You don’t need to worry about it anymore.”
“Maybe not,” he replied. “It still would’ve been nice to feel like my sister could talk to me about her life.”
I clenched my jaw, ready to argue that I did talk to him about stuff, but we were already stalling at the front door. “Let’s just forget about it for now, okay?”
He glanced at me and I could feel the hurt radiating off of him. I didn’t know how to fix it, though. Murphy and I were already over.
“Yeah. Fine,” he said, walking in. “Mom? We’re home!”
The foyer smelled faintly of cedar and lemon polish, the hardwood floors gleaming under the soft light from the chandelier. The house was beautiful, but it felt cavernous tonight, the silence pressing in around us as we waited. Family photos lined the staircase wall – James in his soccer uniform, me at a piano recital, the two of us grinning with gap-toothed smiles on the dock years ago. A few minutes later, Mom appeared at the bottom of the large, winding staircase. Her dark curls were tied up in a messy bun, streaks of silver by her ears. She smiled when she saw us, her blue eyes sparkling as she walked over.
“Welcome back,” she said, pulling me into a hug.
I hugged her back, relieved that the drive didn’t give me any time to smoke a cigarette or two. The last thing I wanted was to see the disappointed look on her face when she realized I hadn’t been able to kick the bad habit.
“Hey, Mom,” I said, resisting the urge to bury my face in her shoulder. Everything that had been bothering me at school – the heartache of Murphy, the headaches from my insomnia, the hangover from last night – all seemed to vanish the second I saw her. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too, sweetheart,” she said. She kissed my cheek before pulling away and opening her arms for James. He walked over and hugged her, wrapping her in a full-body embrace, ducking down slightly to meet her at her height. They pulled back after a moment, Mom kissing James’ cheek as well. “Your father is out for the day, but he promised he’d make time for dinner tomorrow night.”
I bit back a frown, but James got there first. “Will he?”
“We’re celebrating your birthday. Of course he’ll be there,” she replied with a surge of confidence that wanted to make me believe her.
Thankfully, James was too tired from the drive or the night before to argue with her. “Okay. I think I’m gonna go unpack and check some emails. I’ll catch up with you later?”
She squeezed his arm. “Of course. Do what you need to do. You too, Em.”
I nodded. “I think I’m gonna try to take a nap.”
“You both do look tired,” she said. “Have fun last night?”
“Yeah, Jasper always throws the best parties,” I replied.
She smiled knowingly. “He didn’t want to join you guys?”
“No, he was going home with Monty for the weekend. He said hi.”
Mom nodded, clearly fond of him despite his chaos. If I told her he’d held my hair back when I threw up this morning, she’d only give me that soft, approving smile.
“Oh, before I forget,” she called as I picked up my duffle. “The Blakes are joining us at Harbor & Vine for dinner tomorrow night.”
I froze. “Why?”
“The Sergeant is one of my oldest friends, and you love Octavia,” she replied. “It’s been two years since Bellamy, Emma. I thought you wouldn’t mind.”
“I do love Octavia,” I muttered. And I did – she was family at this point, one of my closest friends even after everything with her brother. If anything, she had been on my side of the breakup. But the thought of sitting across from Bellamy in front of Kane made my stomach knot.
I almost wanted to throw up again.
“Emma. It’s one night.”
“But–”
“Non-negotiable. Reservation’s for 7pm.”
I glanced helplessly at James, but he offered no lifeline. My stomach churned, the weight of tomorrow already pressing down. Dinner with Mom and James. And Kane. The Blakes. Bellamy. It felt like a setup for disaster, but all I could do was breathe and nod.
“Right,” I muttered. “It’ll be fine.”
I spent most of the evening unpacking and napping in my room, the quiet both comforting and unsettling. My phone buzzed constantly—Clarke checking in, Raven demanding updates on Mom’s surprise guest list, Jasper spamming the group chat with memes.
There were texts from the lake crew, too: Maya asking if we’d all meet up at Lakeside Roast, Octavia saying she’d arrived back at the lake with about five heart emojis and a wave. A selfie from Sam and Nick sitting at the dock, asking when I could sneak away for a smoke. Polis wasn’t just this house and Kane’s shadow; it was the lake, the people who’d been part of my life long before Arkadia.
By the time I got ready for the birthday dinner on Saturday, I’d FaceTimed Clarke twice – once last night, then this morning after the gym – telling her about Mom ambushing us with family dinner. She’d teased “but isn’t it nice that they want to celebrate you?” and I hadn’t known how to explain the Rhodes-Kane family lore to her, not in the way Murphy and Raven understood it.
Raven, of course, already knew about the dinner—James must’ve told her—and she texted me while I was curling my hair to call her the second it was over. We both agreed not to tell anyone about Clarke yet; I wasn’t ready to have the whole “oh hey I’m bi” conversation with Kane, and I knew James hadn’t had his own version of that talk either.
When I finally slipped on my little red dress, I sent a mirror pic to Clarke, whose immediate “holy shit” followed by a string of hot-face emojis that made my skin flush. Raven declared it “the perfect revenge dress” before I added the photo to my Instagram story.
The group chat with me, James, Raven, and Murphy had been silent since Thursday. So had my thread with Murphy.
I ignored the twinge in my chest as I forced him from my mind, the same way I ignored the fact that a few tears slipped in between my workout sets at the gym that morning. It was my choice – ending whatever we had. We could’ve kept things going if I didn’t want to explore things with Clarke. But fuck him if he was just going to let me go without a fight. I’d even asked him.
He basically threw me into Clarke’s arms himself.
The car ride to the restaurant was small talk – James and I trading updates on classes, Raven, and Jasper. Mom didn’t ask about Murphy, and for that I was grateful.
Harbor & Vine was quiet but polished, the kind of place where even the lighting felt expensive. Soft classical music drifted over the speakers as the host led us to the private room in the back corner. My heels clicked against the wooden floor and James and I exchanged a weary glance before walking in. Pressure tightened in my chest when I noticed almost everyone was already there.
My red dress was a hair too short, but not enough to get me scolded. I’d seen Bellamy plenty since the breakup (a downside to being so close to his sister), but this was different: a dinner table with him, my so-called father, and the rest of our families. Dim lighting that made the room stuffier than it was. My fingers twitched, itching for a cigarette. I clutched the strap of my bag a little tighter.
The Blakes sat at a long dining table draped in crisp white linen, a lantern centerpiece glowing between them. Four empty chairs across from them waited for our arrival. A ‘Happy Birthday’ banner hung on the wall behind them. Seeing the Sergeant in a dress was always jarring; a fancy one even more so. She smiled when she saw me, opening her arms. I hesitated for a beat but with a nod of encouragement from Octavia, I walked over and hugged her tightly.
“It’s so good to see you again, honey,” she greeted, her voice warm. As if she didn’t know the full story of what happened between me and her son. “Happy birthday.”
“You too, Sergeant,” I said, pulling away. “And thank you.”
“I’m off duty,” she replied. “It’s Aurora.”
“Yes, Ma’am–Aurora.”
Mom and the Sergeant hugged next before she turned her attention to James. I shot a glance over at Bellamy and Octavia, and Octavia smiled at me.
“Hey, Em,” she said, crossing the room. “Happy birthday.”
“Thanks,” I answered, hugging her tightly. At least she was here tonight – my built-in escape plan, the one person who could bail me out with just a look. “Missed you.”
“Missed you, too.”
We pulled back and my eyes met Bellamy, who had been standing quietly off to the side. He cleaned up well – he always did. His dark curly hair was longer, closer to the way I liked it, and he’d shaved recently. Like James, he wore nice pants and a sports jacket, and for once, my heart didn’t flutter or sink at the sight of him. It only took me two fucking years – but we got here.
“Hey,” I greeted, offering a polite smile.
“Happy birthday, Emma,” he said, returning a small one.
“Thanks.”
James glanced between us, and when it seemed safe, he walked over and clasped Bellamy’s hand. We’d all been close once. “Hey, man.”
“Hey, happy birthday, man,” he replied with more warmth than he’d offered me.
“Isn’t it nice to see everyone together again,” a familiar voice greeted from behind me. I tried not to tense, glancing over at Mom as Kane strode into the room.
“Emmaline, Jameson,” he greeted.
James turned first and I took my cue from him. “Dad.”
Kane did a once-over of him, clearly noticing the lack of a necktie, but unsurprisingly didn’t comment before turning his attention to me. His eyes scanned my dress and jacket and he raised a brow.
“You’ll freeze in that on the way back to the car,” he said dryly. “Leather’s not enough to fight a Polis fall.”
I swallowed a witty comeback. Somehow, I felt twelve again, caught between fight and flight. “Nice to see you too, Dad.”
“Happy birthday,” he replied, almost like he’d forgotten that was why we were all there. I could feel everyone else’s gazes on us as he reached into his coat pocket. He pulled out two slim envelopes with our names written in cursive – Mom’s handwriting.
Without opening it, I slipped it into my clutch, keeping it locked in with my phone and my cigarettes. A check.
It was always a check.
“Thanks,” I muttered, instead of ‘surprised you remembered’. Like an adult.
Mom’s smile was tight as she swooped in, smoothing over the moment like she always did.
“So glad you could get away from the office, Marcus. Let’s eat, shall we?”
Dinner at Harbor & Vine was exactly what I’d expected: quiet, polished, and suffocating. Conversation flowed easily between Mom and Sergeant Blake, with Kane occasionally chiming in about business. He didn’t ask about school or my friends, didn’t comment on anything beyond the menu or the wine list. Except for the comment about my dress and the envelope, it was like I wasn’t even there.
James held his own beside him, polite and composed, while I focused on cutting my chicken into neat bites I didn’t feel like eating. Bellamy stayed quiet for the most part, Octavia occasionally nudging him into the conversation.
No one seemed to notice my silence except for her. She kicked me under the table and I glared at her; she raised a brow. I nodded once, letting her know I was fine, but all I wanted to do was go back to Arkadia and curl up in Clarke’s warm, safe bed.
Or out to the dock with Sam and Nick, a cigarette between my fingers.
The lantern centerpiece flickered softly, throwing long shadows over the table. My stomach knotted tighter with every passing course, the clinking silverware louder than the soft classical music overhead.
Eventually, the dishes were cleared. Before anyone asked about dessert menus, the waitstaff appeared with a cake topped with flickering candles. They sang low and off-key, and just as the cake was set in front of James and me, Kane’s phone buzzed. He stood without a word, answering the call as Mom gave him a tight look of disapproval.
“Smile,” she prompted, her phone out as she gestured between me and James. We exchanged an unsurprised glance before leaning close, pasting on our best smiles.
“Make a wish!”
Right. As if it were that easy.
James inhaled and I used that as my cue, blowing out the candles with him because I knew Mom would be recording. When the camera dropped, I pushed my chair back.
I hadn’t wished for anything.
“Go ahead and cut the first piece,” I said, resting my hand on James’ shoulder. “I’ll be back.”
He frowned, but I gave him a quick nod, ignoring Octavia’s concerned look as I grabbed my clutch and slipped away.
Cold night air bit against my skin as I stepped outside, sliding a cigarette from the pack. My lighter flared in the dark and I breathed in the familiar burn, leaning against the brick wall of Harbor & Vine. For the first time all night, I could relax.
My phone screen lit up in my hand as I flicked ash to the ground. No texts from Murphy – not since the birthday wishes. Of course not. But his Snapchat story was at the top of my feed, taunting me with that purple ring.
I tapped it open anyway.
I recognized The Dropship instantly, even in the dim lighting. Laughter I couldn’t hear over the music. Someone’s arm was slung around his shoulder as he grinned at the camera. He was off tonight, apparently – a surprise. Murphy always worked Saturdays. He didn’t need to, not with his mom and stepdad insisting that he enjoy his college without a part-time job, but he liked the work. And he liked the cash.
And the girls, apparently.
My thumb hovered before I flicked to the next clip, then the next, catching a glimpse of a girl I’d seen around the bar standing next to him like she belonged there. My chest tightened with every swipe.
I exhaled smoke, more from my lungs than my cigarette, and locked my phone. Maybe if I smoked slow enough, I wouldn’t have to go back inside. Octavia would know where to find me; she always did. A true getaway car.
“Well, this is going better than I expected.”
I jumped, startled, and turned to see Bellamy leaning against the brick wall. His sleeves were rolled up and buttoned at his elbows, hands stuffed in his pockets. Two years ago, my pulse would have jumped at the sight. Now, all I could think about was that girl in Murphy’s picture.
“I’m not holding my breath,” I replied, taking a slow drag from my cigarette.
He smirked faintly. “Always so optimistic when it comes to Kane.”
“Or realistic.”
His dark eyes swept over me, and I caught him hesitating before saying, “You look good, Ems.”
I arched a brow, resisting the urge to throw back ‘my girlfriend thinks so too’. Was Clarke my girlfriend? “Yeah, well, five am workouts do wonders when you’ve got vices to balance out.”
“Whatever you’re doing, it’s working,” he said, taking a step closer. “You seem… good.”
“I am.” My voice was flat. “Did you come out here for a reason or–?”
“Just wanted to see how you were holding up. You usually can’t survive one family dinner without sneaking out for a smoke.”
“History will be on my side when I say that these family dinners are shit.” I exhaled towards the street. “No offense, but I’m not sure why you’re here.”
Bellamy put a hand to his chest, mock wounded. “After all this time, Ems?”
“You mean, after you cheated on me when we were together for two and a half years?”
He winced. “I didn’t cheat–”
“Right,” I cut in, flicking ash to the pavement. “You just got with Gina Martin the second we broke up. The same Gina you swore was just a friend. Totally different.”
“Is that what this is about? Gina? You’re not going to take any responsibility for the way you were–?”
I laughed, sharp and humorless. “For what? Having a life outside of you? Thinking we had a future beyond graduation? God, Bellamy. You’re right. How heartless of me.”
Bellamy’s lips tightened. “You make it seem like I never cared about you.”
I faltered slightly, a crack in my resolve. “I know you cared. But all the shit you used to say about me and Jasper…” My voice trailed off as memories resurfaced – countless fights over late rehearsals, nights running lines at his place or mine.
“Was a little true, wasn’t it?” he asked, tentative now.
He wasn’t the only one who thought my best friend and I were in love. Four years of being cast opposite each other, of chemistry that was second nature, didn’t help. I’d never stopped to think how it would look from Bellamy’s perspective.
The idea was just so ridiculous I’d never taken him seriously.
“Not that it was any of your business,” I said, my voice steady, “but no, it wasn’t. And it didn’t give you an excuse to seek out Gina’s comfort.”
Bellamy winced. “I made a mistake, Ems. I was angry, and I… I thought you’d stopped loving me.”
I glanced over at him. Looking at him closely, he seemed tired. Bags appeared under his eyes and for the first time, I wondered how he was doing over at his own university. He wanted to be a history professor. Or at least, he used to.
“I never stopped loving you,” I said quietly. “I just didn’t love you in the way you wanted me to anymore.”
In the way I wanted to. And it had only taken me three years to figure that out.
Bellamy wasn’t solely responsible for our breakup, as I had always painted him out to be. So was I.
He looked away, his shoulders tensed. “You were my best friend. You think we could ever… go back to that?”
I’d imagined this moment so many times: me, looking hot as hell in my post-breakup glow-up, and Bellamy coming back, asking for forgiveness. This wasn’t romance—it was friendship—but it was close enough.
But this was Bellamy. The first boy I’d ever loved. The first boy who’d ever really broken my heart. The one I’d had to glue myself back together from, piece by piece. The reason I swore I’d never get attached again. The reason I didn’t want to be sobbing on a bathroom floor—or at the gym—because someone else couldn’t get their shit together.
The reason I’d chosen Clarke.
“Once upon a time,” I said evenly, keeping my gaze on him, “you weren’t the boy who broke my heart.”
He had the decency to flinch. “Emma, I’m–”
“I’m good, Bellamy,” I replied, putting my cigarette out with the stiletto of my heel. “We should go back inside before they send Octavia to drag us in.”
He hesitated like he wanted to say more, but I was already walking past him. The warm glow of the dining room spilled onto the floor as I opened the door. Inside, James was laughing at something Octavia said, Mom and Sergeant Blake leaning close in conversation.
Kane’s chair was still empty.
“Where’s Dad?” I asked, looking over at Mom.
Something shifted across her face. “He had to go back to the office. Something about an emergency,” she replied, but even she didn’t seem convinced.
“Well, more wine for me, I guess,” I said, sliding back into my empty seat. I pulled out my phone, scrolling to the unused group chat between me, Jasper, Raven, Murphy, and James.
Me: so
Me: who put money on Kane leaving before 8:30pm?
Raven was the first to respond. i think jasper
Me: great. we’ll pull it out of the douchebag jar when we get back
The douchebag jar was a mason jar that was set in the living room of our apartment, used mainly whenever me, Raven, or Jasper said or did something to require us putting money in it. Right now, two months into the school year, there was at least $100 in it.
Jasper chimed in. not that i’m not thrilled about winning
but you good, em?
I glanced over at Bellamy. let me get back to you on that
“So,” Mom said, clearing her throat. “Who’s hungry for some more cake?”
Octavia glanced over at me, then at her brother as he came back in and sat down next to her. She furrowed her brow, a silent you okay? passing on her face.
I shook my head. There was no point in lying to her.
I wasn’t okay. But not for the reasons she thought.
But maybe one day, I would be.
Chapter 10: and I never saw you coming
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The rest of the weekend was quintessential Polis and I almost felt relaxed by the time I packed up my duffle on Sunday. I caught up with Mom and James, playing piano for fun instead of for class, and finishing up assignments I had left over. Thankfully, James didn’t bring up Murphy again, but Mom did ask about him once. It was a simple “so how’s John doing?” but my vague answer kept her from asking too many questions. She was good like that. Unlike Kane, Mom knew how to read subtext and pick up on things without me having to tell her.
A few times, I almost slipped and told Mom about Clarke, this beautiful girl I was starting to really like, but every time, I stopped myself. Clarke was still so new and fragile, and the last time Mom and I talked about my dating life, I was heartbroken over Bellamy. Not that she wouldn’t be supportive – but telling her about Clarke made everything more real.
I was also grateful to my friends. Saturday night didn’t end with an empty stomach and the bitter taste of disappointment. Instead, Octavia arrived at my house around ten o’clock and announced I needed to be down by the firepit in our backyard. When I almost protested, she shoved my guitar case into my arms and insisted the sweats and hoodie I’d changed into were “perfect”.
By the time I got there, the smell of smoke was already drifting through the trees. Maya, Sam, and Nick had built a fire like they owned the place and were settled in our dark wood Adirondack chairs. Mom must have let them in through the back gate – I hadn’t even noticed them sneaking in with bags of chips, pretzels, and other snacks now scattered at their feet, like they knew I wouldn’t have eaten much at Harbor & Vine. They stood when I stepped into the glow of the fire, whisper-shouting “Surprise!” and pulled me into a group hug that nearly knocked me over. I wished Jasper could’ve been there too, but he was spending time with Monty’s family for the weekend.
We spent the rest of the night passing around my guitar, singing along to our favorite songs until our cheeks hurt from laughter. Sam brought a cheap box of wine and Maya crowned me with a paper tiara she’d cut out of printer paper and I wore it the entire night. We took pictures and videos, and caught up on each other’s lives.
Somewhere between the wine, the music, and the laughter, I told them about Clarke. Naturally, they demanded every detail, and I happily obliged. I was careful not to call her my girlfriend and conveniently omitted the part about Murphy showing up in an attempt to crash our first date.
One by one, they handed me gifts: a Polaroid camera from Maya, the new Sabrina Carpenter vinyl I’d been eyeing from Nick, a few books Sam carefully picked out, and a vintage leather journal from Octavia. By the time the fire was nothing but glowing embers, my heart was so full it almost hurt.
I woke up with a dull headache and hair that reeked of smoke, the smell of cheap wine clinging to the hoodie I’d crashed in somewhere in the wee hours of the morning. And all too soon, it was Sunday: back to Arkadia.
While I looked forward to seeing my roommates, I dreaded the thought of seeing Murphy. Everything was my fault so I couldn’t blame him for not reaching out all weekend. I hadn’t checked his Snap story since the smoke break at dinner; I’d been too focused on making my own memories.
And yet I still missed my friend.
“So anything new with you?” I asked James as we climbed back into his BMW. Mom had seen us off, and unsurprisingly, Kane was nowhere to be found.
He shrugged. “Not much new with me. Hung out with the guys last night after dinner – saw you and your friends at the firepit at two in the morning.”
I rolled my eyes. The guys, of course, were his friends from the soccer team. “Like that’s anything new. No new updates on your love life or anything you didn’t want to say in front of Mom?”
“I’m not really dating right now.”
I frowned. “Why not?”
“It’s just not a priority for me,” he replied. “I’m focusing on keeping my GPA up so that I can get into law school after graduation.”
“Okay, but you can still relax and have fun sometimes–”
“I have plenty of fun,” he assured me. “Just because our definitions of fun are different doesn’t mean I don’t have it.”
I gave him a look but he ignored it as he started up the car. He tossed his phone to me, letting me pick out the playlist this time. It was enough of a change in tension from the car ride here that I relaxed, my thumb scrolling through his Spotify before landing on a playlist.
“Should I be concerned that you’ve listened to Silver Springs on repeat?” I asked, raising my brow at him. “Does Raven know?”
James rolled his eyes. “Fleetwood Mac is a classic band. I don’t need to explain myself to you. Or to Raven.”
I snorted. “Yeah, okay,” I said, turning up the volume on what was arguably James’ favorite song.
“Emma–”
“Oh come on. Keep the streak going?”
“I’m not–”
The opening guitar riff spilled through the speakers as we pulled onto the main road. I pushed my windows down, the cool air whipped through the car and filled my lungs. When the first verse came on, I started singing without hesitation, sneaking glances over at James, waiting for him to chime in like he always did. He stayed silent, but I kept going, not thinking too hard about the lyrics – Mom loved Fleetwood Mac, too.
“Jamie, come on,” I urged as we turned on Main Street. Part of me worried that I’d damaged things between us with the whole Murphy mess; he was my twin, Murphy’s best friend, and I’d felt the strain. But this weekend, things felt normal. I probably couldn’t get Murphy back, but if I’d screwed things up so badly I couldn’t get James to relax–
He finally glanced over at me and rolled his window down. By the time the chorus hit, James’ tenor joined mine, and my smile broke wide open.
“Time cast a spell on you, but you won’t forget me!” we belted, our voices in perfect harmony. “I know I could have loved you but you would not let meeee! I’ll follow you down to the sound of my voice will haunt you-”
For the first time in forever, it felt like everything was okay. Or, at least, that everything could be okay.
We stopped at a red light. When it turned green, James hesitated before easing forward when suddenly – so suddenly I didn’t even have time to blink, a car ran through the red light on the other side. If we’d moved three seconds earlier, it would’ve slammed into James’ side.
Three seconds. That was how long it would have taken.
I instinctively turned the music down, my hands shaking and my heart racing, as James pulled through the intersection. His face was rigid, knuckles white on the steering wheel, until he swung into the nearest parking lot – one of our favorite fast food places.
“Jesus Christ,” he breathed. “Are you okay, Em?”
I blinked, forcing myself to take in our surroundings. We were okay. The car was stopped. James sat next to me, perfectly unharmed except for the death grip on the steering wheel. Accidents happened every day, but this one didn’t. This one missed us – barely.
“Emma,” James said, his voice forcing its way through my thoughts. “Are you hurt?”
“No,” I promised, glancing over at him. “Are you?”
“No.” He nodded once. “The car didn’t hit us. Jesus fuck, people are idiots.”
“People run that light all the time,” I reminded him. Mom warned us about it when we first started learning to drive, and I’d that intersection ever since.
“I know. That’s why I hesitated.”
“Good thing you did.”
He reached out and I slipped my hand into his, squeezing tightly. For a moment, neither of us moved. Our heart rates slowed and our breathing leveled out, but we stayed there in silence, hands clasped, just breathing.
Eventually, we made it back to Arkadia College in one piece. We listened to the radio the rest of the way, barely making conversation. I didn’t want to distract James and it was enough to keep my anxiety from crawling out of my chest – I spent half the time reciting the treble scale and barely registered when we pulled into the parking lot.
James called Mom immediately, telling her that we’d made it back to school. He didn’t mention the almost accident – the one that could have potentially taken my twin from me. I texted the lake crew to let them know I’d arrived back on campus and thanked them again for last night. The pictures Maya took were already blowing up the groupchat, and I knew I’d have great shots to post on Instagram later. She was our resident photographer alongside Jasper.
It took us a few trips to get everything back to our apartments. James helped me move my bags first: laundry, guitar, backpack, and my duffle bag. Then I carried his lighter load next, staying closer to him than usual as we made our way across the lot.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” James asked as we reached the door with his last bag.
“Yeah, I’m okay,” I promised. “Are you?”
“Yeah.” He nodded once. “Maybe we can grab dinner or something later.”
“Yeah, that’d be good. I have one paper to finish but that won’t take too long,” I replied. “I’ll text you when I’m done.”
“Perfect,” he said. He glanced at his door. Thankfully, Murphy had been in the shower when we dropped James’ stuff in the living room. That didn’t stop me from picturing him behind that closed bathroom door, water running. I pushed the thought away, reminding myself of Clarke and the girl I’d seen in his Snap story last night. “Just us for dinner?”
“Yeah,” I replied. “Raven’s working, and Jasper hasn’t texted me that he’s back yet.”
“And Murphy?”
I gave him a look. “I thought we weren’t gonna talk about it.”
“We should probably talk about it at some point.”
“We made it through two whole days without mentioning your roommate. I think we can go another couple more hours–”
“Oh, so he’s just my roommate now?” James said, glancing at me.
I shrugged. “Isn’t that what you want him to be to me?”
His face softened just a touch. “You guys were friends. That still counts. He can come to dinner–”
I adjusted my bag on my shoulder. “No.”
“Emma, come on. It can’t be that bad–”
I hesitated. “Remember that fight we got in last year?”
“You guys always fight.”
“Yeah, but that one was bad. We didn’t talk for two weeks.”
It was right before I’d started dating again. It’d been one of our nights up on the roof and Murphy made a stupid comment about how I was never going to find someone to get over Bellamy if I kept hiding away on the roof with him and I’d shot back that maybe I didn’t want to find someone. Things had escalated and a few days later, without even consulting Raven or Jasper, I downloaded one of the dating apps. Spite was one of the few ways to motivate me to do something out of my comfort zone.
Just ask Kane.
“You still never told me what it was about.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I said now. “This was worse than that.”
“I knew you were upset when I ran into you before we left on Friday–”
I was about to respond when the bathroom door opened. James and I both glanced at it and my eyes widened when I saw Murphy. Temporarily distracted by his bare chest and the fact that he was only wearing a towel, I almost didn’t notice the black eye. Almost. It was surrounding his right eye and even though it looked faded, I knew it wasn’t there the day we left to go back home. I told myself not to care, that I was the one who ended it, but something shifted in me at the sight.
“Didn’t realize there was a party out here,” he said, glancing at James.
“We just got back,” James replied lamely. I knew that voice – it was the James Rhodes guilty voice.
Of fucking course my brother would punch Murphy in the face for sleeping with me. Anger rose in my chest but I couldn’t say anything. Time was frozen or I was paralyzed – and I couldn’t stop staring.
“I see that,” he replied. His eyes swept over to me and for a long, painstaking moment, we both just stared at each other. “Well, this has been fun, but I’m gonna get dressed. I have to get to work.”
“But it’s Sunday,” I blurted. As if that had to do with anything.
Smooth, Rhodes.
“Glad to know you can still read a calendar, Rhodes.”
“I just mean – you don’t normally work on Sunday.”
Murphy shrugged. “There was a call out. Didn’t think I needed to share my schedule with you.” He looked at James one more time but they didn’t say anything – James simply gave him a wide berth to move around him and let him walk past.
Once he was in his room, I reached out and punched James on the arm. “What the fuck was that for?” I demanded.
He gave me a look. “He hurt you. Of course I was going to do something about it.”
“He’s your best friend, you don’t have to fucking punch him,” I argued. “And I never said he hurt me.”
“You didn’t have to, Em,” he replied. He turned to the door to his room. “And you actually answered my question, so thanks.”
I frowned. “What question?”
“If you cared about Murphy.”
“Of course I fucking care about Murphy, we’re friends–”
“So why can’t he come to dinner?” he asked, a smirk on his face. He knew why. He just wanted me to say it. Just like apparently he knew we’d been sleeping together. But how long had he known? And how did he find out?
I glared at him and crossed my arms over my chest. It was like we were kids again and he was stealing all of my Barbie doll shoes and hiding them throughout the house.
“Because I want to spend quality time with my brother,” I finally settled on. “And I have a date later and I’d rather not get shit for it the entire time.”
Something crossed over his face. “A date? With who?”
I rolled my eyes. “Clarke. You know, the girl I brought to my birthday party and have been Facetiming with all weekend? The really hot scientist one?”
“She’s not your usual type.”
“Because she’s a girl?” I asked, even though I knew the answer.
“She’s not Murphy,” he said simply. It was almost like my dream – too close to my dream for comfort. “I know he gets under your skin but I know you care about him.”
“And?” I pressed.
He glanced at Murphy’s bedroom door, but it was still closed. Knowing him, he probably had his headphones in and couldn’t hear what we were saying. At least, I fucking hoped not. “Don’t fuck around with Clarke just to provoke Murphy,” he said. “Make a choice and stick with it.”
Some of the anger filtered out of my chest. “I did make a choice. He didn’t fight for me. And I like Clarke, so stop acting like she’s some fucking experiment–”
“Whoa, I never said that,” James replied, putting his hands up. “I’m just saying. It’s Murphy. I know he acts like he doesn’t have feelings but he does. And if you hurt him enough, he might not always be around the way you think he will be.”
I glared at him. “Since when am I getting the lecture? Didn’t you punch him for hurting me?”
“He’s still my best friend,” he said with a shrug. “Just be careful, Emma. Don’t do anything stupid.”
“For once can’t you just be fucking happy for me?”
“I am happy for you. If you like Clarke, go for it.”
“Trying to do that, thanks. Just please don’t invite Murphy to dinner.”
“Fine. I won’t.”
“Thank you.” Silence followed, the two of us staring at each other. I’d never wanted to put James in the middle of Murphy and me, but somehow, that was where he always ended up. “I’ll text you when I’m done with homework.”
He looked over at me, then at the door to Murphy’s bedroom. “Yeah. Fine.”
“Thanks for not dying,” I said, catching his gaze before turning and heading out of the apartment. I headed toward my own, trying to forget about the last few hours and focus on the evening ahead. I was meeting Clarke in a few hours, and honestly, after the weekend of drama, that was all I really cared about. Even if I couldn’t get the image of Murphy’s black eye out of my head.
Dinner with James was quiet but at least it hadn’t been tense. We’d grabbed a bite to eat in the dining hall because it was quick and he was too lazy to cook, so we sat at one of the corner tables like we were freshmen again. We talked mostly about classes and our schedules for the upcoming week, completely ignoring any conversation about Murphy, Raven, or any of our other friends. It was probably for the best.
Later that night, after I’d unpacked and changed into something cuter, I headed down the hall. I wasn’t sure why I was nervous – Clarke and I had had two dates and texted a bunch of times, but for some reason, hanging out alone at her apartment seemed… different. I liked her, and she knew that – she liked me, and I knew that. We’d been flirting all weekend on the phone and all I wanted to do since coming back to Arkadia was pull her into my arms and kiss her, to focus on the exciting thing starting to happen. Especially after the near miss James and I had on our way back to school. Thankfully that seemed to have been pushed to the furthest corner of my mind as I wrestled with other parts of my mind.
A storm cloud had followed me all weekend, even with the pockets of sunshine my friends had provided. Thoughts of Bellamy, Kane, and Murphy lingered in the back of my mind even at Lakeside Roast this morning, but even their famous cinnamon spice latte couldn’t breakthrough the storm or my wine hangover. All I wanted to do was see Clarke, who had been texting me consistently all weekend, enough for me to smile stupidly at my phone and proceed to have my friends make fun of me for it.
At one point, Sam pulled me aside and asked how things with Murphy were, but when I muttered something about that shitshow being over, she got the hint and didn’t ask again.
By the time I reached Clarke’s apartment a few buildings over, my stomach was in knots. What if she’d changed her mind? What if she was breaking up with me? What if she didn’t want me to tell my friends about us?
I raised a sweaty hand and knocked three times.
She opened the door barefoot, in green sweatpants and my Polis hoodie, and still managed to knock the wind out of me. Her smile was warm and immediate, like she had been waiting for me all day, and before I could say anything, she tugged me inside and closed the door behind us.
Almost all of my nerves disappeared.
“Hey,” I breathed, suddenly aware of how tightly I’d been wound. Even through dinner with James.
“Hey,” she echoed softly, leaning in to press a kiss to my cheek. “How was your break?”
I sank into her couch and she settled beside me, touched that she still asked even though she had been receiving live updates almost all weekend. Our knees brushed together and she reached for one of my hands, twisting our fingers together.
“It was… something,” I replied, my other arm wrapping around her waist. “Nice to see my mom and my friends. Octavia is ridiculous, as always.”
Clarke’s smile widened. She already knew their names, the stories from high school and the lake, and I wasn’t surprised that Octavia was her favorite. I’d heard about her friends, too, and I knew she had spent some time with them this weekend as well.
“I’m glad some things don’t change,” she said, passing me a glass of water. I had told her about my headache on the ride over, and of course she was thoughtful enough to make sure I stayed hydrated.
“Me too,” I replied, gripping the glass. I hesitated. “I told them about you. They were making fun of me for smiling at my phone so much; they already like you.”
And who wouldn’t? Clarke Griffin was smart, beautiful, and kind. Being around her eased a lot of the pressure in my chest and I felt like I could be myself around her. It was still hard to believe that she seemed to like me as much as I was liking her. That I could be worthy of her attention and care.
Her cheeks flushed and she ducked her head with a soft laugh. “They sound smart.”
“They are,” I murmured, leaning into her shoulder.
Clarke’s fingers pressed gently against my side and for a while, the two of us just held each other. This silence was different from the silence of my room at home – this was comforting, despite the way my heartrate never seemed to fully ease when I was with her. We had only been on two dates, but we talked constantly and she always made me feel seen.
She made it easy to share bits of my life with her and she shared pieces of hers, too. I knew about her parents – her doctor mom and engineering dad – and the golden retriever they’d while she grew up. She didn’t have any siblings and her friends were scarce in her hometown but they were loyal.
She made me feel like I was worthy of something more than multiple one night stands strung together, a feeling I hadn’t had since Bellamy. A feeling that scared me shitless.
“You seem tired,” Clarke murmured after a while. Her cheek rested on top of my head and our legs somehow ended up intertwined on the couch. I was warm and comfortable and never wanted to leave.
I sighed. “Long weekend.”
I knew she had seen my photos and videos from the bonfire night - I’d posted them on my Instagram and Snapchat stories - and didn’t want to fill the silence with stories of my friends if she didn’t want to hear about them. She didn’t need to know about Kane walking out before James and I blew out our candles or the conversation I’d had with Bellamy outside, or the amount of times I’d watched Murphy’s Snapchat stories over the weekend.
“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” she said, shifting so that she faced me. Her hand cupped my cheek and a small part of me felt guilty that she was the one comforting me. “But just know that if you do… I’m interested.”
I raised a brow, trying not to completely shut down on her. “Oh?”
“Mhm. I would like to know what’s happening in my girlfriend’s life. And in that pretty head of hers.”
My cheeks flushed more at the title than at the compliment. Girlfriend. I hadn’t been someone’s girlfriend since high school. What if I was bad at it?
Clarke seemed to notice the hesitancy because she pulled back slightly. “I mean… if you want to. I know it’s kind of soon, but I just thought…”
I smiled. She was adorable when she was nervous; I hadn’t seen her like this before. On our first date, she’d been confident and magnetic, and at my birthday party, she’d held her head high, calm and collected. She fitted in with my group of friends like she’d always belonged there.
I kind of liked seeing her like this.
Instead of answering right away, I leaned in, pressing my lips gently to hers. She kissed me back, her fingers tightening their grip on my side. Before it got too heated, I pulled away, resting my forehead against hers and gazing into her ocean blue eyes.
They weren’t the correct shade of blue, but I pushed that thought away before it could take root.
“You thought right,” I whispered. “I’d like to be your girlfriend, too.”
Clarke’s smile bloomed, slow and radiant, and I felt a sense of pride that I had been the one to put it there. She leaned in and kissed me again – gentle and unhurried, like she had all the time in the world. Her hands rested on my waist, steady and warm, anchoring me in a way I hadn’t realized I’d needed.
I deepened the kiss and she shifted until I was pinned down on the couch, my hands exploring her back under my sweatshirt.
She smiled against my mouth, our teeth clashing for just a moment. Her laugh was soft and breathless as my fingers traced along her spine. There was no rush, no spark threatening to set me on fire – just Clarke, grounding me with every touch, keeping me steady in the present moment.
And, at least for a little while, I let myself forget about everything else.
Because right now, no else mattered.
Notes:
Song used in this chapter is "Silver Springs" by Fleetwood Mac <3
Chapter 11: searching for signs in a haunted club
Chapter Text
Halloween weekend at Arkadia College promised to be absolutely chaotic. And I couldn’t wait.
The last two years, Jasper, Raven, and I had done trio costumes and Jasper always found the best parties for us to go to. We’d hit up the frats later in the night and a lot of the time, we’d come back to the apartments well after two in the morning and smoke a bowl. At least, Jasper, Monty, Harper and I would. Raven would hang out with us, drinking more, but never taking a hit. Last year, we ran into James and Murphy and the two of them joined us for our shenanigans. The year before, Murphy had simply been the boy from the roof.
This year, he was my ex… whatever. He wasn’t even an ex-boyfriend if we’d never had the label.
I knew this year was going to be different. Clarke was coming to the bars with us, and we’d decided to dress as Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy, with her as Harley Quinn, naturally. Jasper had found a pirate costume at a thrift store and was determined to stay in character and drunk all night as Jack Sparrow. Raven, I knew, was going as a dark angel.
Murphy typically wasn’t one to dress up. And while I had no right to, while I was excited about spending Halloween weekend with my girlfriend, I still couldn’t help but wonder if we would see him tonight. Or if he was working. Or if he was going to be at home, playing videogames. Or out with some hot girl he met at a bar or somewhere on campus. Or…
Get a fucking grip, Rhodes.
Music blared from my phone speakers – Taylor Swift, of course – as I finished my hair and checked my makeup one last time. Raven had helped spray some red hairspray into my brown curls that I’d straightened, and the dark green of the Poison Ivy costume contrasted nicely against my skin. Clarke and I would film a few quick videos together when she got to the apartment, but for now, it was just the three of us.
My brother was going to have a fit at the amount of skin I was showing, but I didn’t care. It wasn’t like I was dressing up for his approval.
“Alright, ladies!” Jasper called from the living room. “Are we ready to depart?”
I smiled, adjusting the straps of my shirt before shutting the music off on my phone. I noticed a text from Clarke saying that she was on her way, and when I pulled up our message thread, I saw a sneak peek of her costume. Her blonde hair was tied up in Harley Quinn’s infamous high pigtails and her makeup was absolutely on point. Her blue and white shirt could hardly be considered a shirt for the amount of skin it was showing. My cheeks flushed as I opened the picture she’d sent, one that was definitely not suitable to open around anyone else.
I cleared my throat. “Ready!” I called, shutting my screen off and heading into the living room. I burst out laughing when I saw Jasper in costume, the complete pirate regalia, the wig, and the hat all perfectly in character. It reminded me just how much both of us were theatre kids. “You look fucking incredible, Jasper.”
“There is no Jasper here,” he said seriously, a hand on his heart. “Only Captain Jack Sparrow. And… Poison Ivy?”
“Duh,” I replied, flipping my hair behind my shoulder. “Harley Quinn’s almost here and then we can go. Where’s Raven?”
“Right here!” she called, stepping out of her room.
I grinned. She looked stunning, but honestly, Raven was one of those girls who could wear a plain tee-shirt and sweatpants and still look beautiful. Her long, black hair was pin-straight for this costume, part of it hanging over her bare shoulders. She wore a black lace corset top with black leggings, and something that could barely be called a skirt. Knee-high black boots complimented the look, and then of course, the black angel wings and black halo. Not to mention that her makeup was perfect.
“You were born to be a dark angel,” I said, walking over to her.
Next to me, Jasper smirked. “Stunning,” he agreed. “Come now, ladies. We must take proof that we all look amazing before everyone else gets here.”
“You look great too, Em,” Raven replied. “Though James is gonna lose his shit and say that barely counts as a costume.”
I rolled my eyes. James is going to lose his shit when he sees you, I bit back from saying. I still wasn’t sure what my brother was dressing up as, but he usually did. We were planning to meet up with him at some point at the bars. “Then he’d be a hypocrite because it’s no different than you,” I replied. “Just shorts instead of a skirt.”
“Come, come, ladies, gather ‘round,” Jasper remarked, opening his arms for us. We had a standard Halloween picture that we took every year, with Jasper in the middle of the two of us.
I got my phone out and into position on the right hand side of Jasper, Raven on the left. Just as the camera went off, there was a knock on the door and I grinned, my heart skipping a beat.
“Emma? You guys ready?” Clarke called from the other side of the door.
We took two more photos. “Go get your girl, Em,” Jasper said, practically shoving me to the door.
I smiled again, thankfully not stumbling over my own two feet, and went to go answer the door. “Hey,” I replied, immediately pulling her into my arms.
Clarke smiled back at me. Though I had seen a hint of her costume in the photos she sent me while getting ready, it was nothing in comparison to seeing her in person. She was gorgeous on a regular basis, but she was absolutely perfect as Harley Quinn.
“You look amazing,” Clarke remarked, pulling me into her arms. “Are you sure we can’t stay here?”
I smiled, wrapping my arms around her. “It’ll be fun,” I promised, kissing her lightly. “And besides, we get to go home together, yeah?”
“Yeah,” she said, kissing me back. She looked over at Jasper and Raven, her blue eyes sparkling at the sight of my roommates. “You guys look great. You ready to go?”
“Absolutely,” Raven replied. “We’re meeting James there.”
“Well, then I’m glad I’m not meeting your brother for the first time dressed as Harley Quinn,” Clarke said, kissing my cheek. I didn’t even care if she ruined my makeup. She could ruin whatever she wanted of me.
“Definitely,” I agreed, not moving my arm from her waist. “Let’s go, yeah? The night is young!”
“Not so fast,” Jasper remarked, smiling at us. “We need to take a few shots first.”
I looked around and when no one else seemed to protest, I nodded. Vague memories of my birthday came crashing back to me, only this time, it was a different group of people and it was definitely not midnight. It felt strange that Jamie wasn’t meeting us to go down to the bars, but in typical studious fashion, he’d said he had a little homework to finish up before coming out.
Part of me couldn’t help but wonder if that had anything to do with him not wanting Murphy to go alone. Not that Murphy couldn’t come with us. We could certainly be mature enough to hang out together in a group setting… even if that setting included my current girlfriend and alcohol.
Well. It wasn’t like he cared. He’d made that pretty clear multiple times over the course of our… whatever we were. Situationship? Friends with benefits? Fuck buddy?
I shook my head, trying to focus on the group in front of me. Of my smoking hot girlfriend, dressed impeccably as Harley Quinn. And the promise of me going home with her at the end of the night.
“Shots. Definitely,” I agreed, proud of the way that my voice stayed in control.
It wasn’t like I cared that Murphy wasn’t here. Smoking hot girlfriend. Great friends. No annoying twin brother.
It was going to be an amazing night.
Jasper came forward, four shot glasses in his hand and a bottle that looked strangely like tequila. Because of course Jasper would make us do tequila shots knowing that it was the quickest way to make me drunk and meant I had to stick with tequila as my alcohol base for the rest of the night. Part of the problem with my birthday had been that I’d mixed different alcohols and done too many shots and I had absolutely no desire to spend the night crying on the bathroom floor again.
I had no desire to cry at all. Or reason to, for that matter.
Clarke glanced over at me. “You alright, Em?” she asked, concern clear in her voice.
“Yeah! I’m good,” I promised.
Raven smirked over at us. “Emma doesn’t like tequila shots,” she supplied.
“Well, Emma doesn’t have to take tequila shots,” Jasper pointed out. “I can only carry so much with one hand, lass. Go fetch yerself whichever alcohol yer heart desires.”
I glanced between my friends and Clarke. “No, it’s fine,” I said firmly. “Tequila shots it is.”
Jasper and Raven exchanged a look, but thankfully neither of them were ones to baby me too much. Raven might pass some judgment but Jasper never would, and depending on my mood, sometimes I needed a little bit of both. And that was why we worked so well as a trio. And as roommates.
“If you’re sure,” Jasper replied, passing me the bottle after everything, including the salt and the limes we needed, was set on the coffee table between us.
“Positive,” I chirped, taking the bottle and filling the four shot glasses. I took my phone out, took the customary photo for my Instagram story, and then picked up the glass in my hands.
“Alright, everyone!” Jasper called, like a teacher getting the classroom’s attention. “Bottom’s up!”
We clinked our glasses together, downed the shots, and were ready for whatever the night would bring.
As expected, The Dropship was packed. Halloweekend had been crazy the last two years and at least now I knew what to expect – freshman year had been a bit jarring. Everyone was dressed in various costumes, from Captain America and Wonder Woman to vampires and werewolves and fairies. So many people absolutely killed it. I fucking loved college normally, but especially on nights like these. The atmosphere was electric.
My eyes scanned the crowd. When I didn’t see anyone, I glanced at my friends and my girlfriend before making my way to the bar, ordering a Long Island Iced Tea when Echo came over.
“Murphy’s not with you guys?” Echo asked, projecting her voice over the crowd and the music as she passed me my drink.
“Haven’t seen him,” I replied with a casual shrug. “James is supposed to meet us here at some point. Make sure he opens his own tab.”
“I assumed that’s why you put it under Emma instead of Rhodes,” she said with a smirk.
I grinned back at her. “I can see why you’re the favorite.” I bit on my straw, taking a sip.
“Well, you guys look hot. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” she said with a wink before turning down the bar, already heading for the next group of drunk college kids.
“That gives us some wiggle room,” Jasper said with a grin. He took a sip of his Rum and Coke before disappearing through the crowd. We usually lost him pretty early on; he was always one to mingle with anyone he could find. Raven was on her phone, texting someone and hardly paying close attention to anyone else.
Clarke and I remained close to each other, some form of physical contact between us as we talked and made our way through the crowd. A hand on an elbow, an arm around the waist. Almost as if we couldn’t be separated and I didn’t want to be. I liked this, knowing she needed to be near me just as much as I wanted to be near her.
For once, I wasn’t looking around to see who’s attention I attracted or someone new to go home with. For once, I was perfectly content enjoying the company of the girl I came with. I wanted to memorize every inch of her, the way her eyes lit up or the way the dimples appeared in her cheeks when she laughed. The rest of the bar could disappear and I would hardly notice if I was by her side.
We continued to drink throughout the night. More people filed into The Dropship in all types of costumes. We reconnected as a group to do a round of shots, Raven glued to her phone and Jasper detached himself from a pretty redhead girl to meet back up with us.
“You wanna dance?” Clarke asked, her voice loud over the music.
The fire from the shot still burned my tongue but I grinned, nodding at her.
Clarke led me out to the dance floor, a “whoop!” from Jasper earning him an eye roll and a middle finger from me. She drew me in close to her and wrapped her arms around my waist. My arms went around her shoulders and we found a rhythm to the music, swaying and pressing as closely as we could to each other. Heat flowed through me at our proximity and this time, I was the one to kiss her as we continued to dance, lost in our own world. She kissed me back and I knew then that I’d set the world on fire if she’d asked me to. Her leg found its way between mine, pulling me closer, and I had to remind myself that we were in a public bar. People were around. And it would be highly inappropriate to drag my girlfriend into the bathroom and ravish her the way I wanted to.
Instead, I settled for dancing, kissing, our tongues intertwined. Hands everywhere.
Eventually, we broke apart from each other. Eventually, we stopped dancing, needing a break for another round of drinks and I kept my grip tight on her hand as we weaved our way back to the bar, my skin flushed.
We found our friends at the bar, talking amongst each other. We filed in next to them. Jasper arched a brow at me and smirked knowingly. I resisted the urge to flip him off again. My girlfriend settled in next to Raven, already striking up a conversation with her about something smart and science-related. The two of them seemed to get along well and it warmed my heart. Clarke really fit in well here, with us. With me.
Harper and Monty met up with us and effortlessly joined the conversation, Harper dressed as a witch and Monty as a vampire, and our group was complete. Well… almost. Two people still hadn’t arrived, or if they had, hadn’t bothered to come over to us.
Whatever. Maybe James really did have some homework to do, but it was already getting close to eleven thirty.
As we sat there, talking and laughing about classes and other things, I started to itch for a smoke. I wasn’t sure how to detach myself from Clarke long enough to step outside (and I didn’t really want to, to be honest) when my brother finally walked through the front door, his roommate beside him. They seemed to notice us immediately and made their way over. As they did, our conversation naturally died out and there was a round of greeting from almost everyone. James was dressed impeccably in a demon costume, complete with black wings that rivaled Raven’s.
“Nice outfit,” Raven teased.
James grinned, not bothering to hide the once-over he did of my roommate. “Thanks! You look good too.” Then he noticed my costume (and all the skin showing) as I was definitely not staring at Murphy’s lack of one. “Emmaline, who are you supposed to be?”
Before I had the chance to respond, Murphy did. “Poison Ivy,” he supplied, his eyes scanning over me for a brief second. There was nothing on his face – not a tick in his jaw, no storm clouds in his eyes. Nothing. He almost looked stoned except I didn’t smell it on him. “Fitting.”
Our eyes met and my jaw clenched. “Apathetic college student,” I replied, taking in his pair of jeans and black tee-shirt, the zip-up sweatshirt hiding his tattoos. “Fitting.”
“So you guys want a drink?” Raven asked James, cutting through the tension. Or trying to. She may as well have used a butter knife on a steak.
“Yeah, that sounds great,” my brother replied, looking between us. “Clarke? You want another round?”
“Sounds good,” she responded. Clarke tugged on my hand, pulling me back into reality, into the crowded bar. The subtle reminder that I wasn’t alone with Murphy in his apartment and he was letting me walk away from him. Like I was nothing. “Babe? You want one too?”
“Yeah, thanks,” I replied, turning back to her. “I’m gonna step outside for a minute. Will you be okay with everyone here?”
Concern flickered in her blue eyes. “Yeah, I’m good,” she promised. “Do you want me to come with you?”
“No, it’s okay. You go get the drinks. I’ll just be a few minutes.”
She nodded. She glanced back over my shoulder at Murphy and she squeezed my hand but didn’t lean in to kiss me. Instead, she turned and focused on ordering another round of drinks, leaving the two of us alone. Well, as alone as we could be in the current situation.
We looked at each other again. Everything felt muted, the chaos of the bar around us blurry. All I really wanted was a cigarette. I didn’t want to ask him to join me but I also wasn’t sure what I’d do if he followed me out to the patio, our typical drunken routine. Hell, it wasn’t like we needed to be drunk to share cigarettes together.
I slid off my stool without a word but I didn’t miss the way Murphy tracked my movement with his eyes, like he wanted to say something.
Poison Ivy. Fitting.
He didn’t. Instead, Murphy stepped to the side. He knew exactly why I needed a minute alone. He crossed his arms but otherwise didn’t move and I walked past him. I opened the door, the conversations and laughter behind me drowning out as I closed the door behind me and into the cool October air. As soon as it was shut and I was a few feet away, I dug into my pocket (a requirement when I was looking for the shortest of green shorts to pair over black fishnets) and pulled out my pack of cigarettes. I lit one up, taking a drag, the instant relief washing through me.
For better or for worse, Murphy didn’t follow.
By the end of the night, all I wanted to do was take my clothes off and fall asleep in my girlfriend’s bed. The rest of the evening had been uneventful. I stopped drinking after my smoke break, opting for water instead (after the last drink Clarke had bought me). She had pulled me to the side after I’d come back in and asked me if I was okay, but I just told her that it was too crowded in the bar and needed some fresh air.
It wasn’t a lie, but crowds didn’t always bother me. Murphy did.
I was trying not to let it bother me. He was an asshole. Raven loved to point it out every time I mentioned he wasn’t an asshole and that he cared about me. I hated admitting that she was right, even when I had evidence against it, even if I was only admitting it in my head.
“You gonna talk about it?” Clarke asked as we walked back to campus. The rest of the group (minus Monty and Harper) walked ahead of us, Jasper and Murphy walking behind Raven and James. Jasper was drunk. I could only imagine the kind of conversation they were having.
“Talk about what?” I replied, glancing over at her. The air was cold and I already started to sober up on the walk back to the apartments.
“Why what Murphy said bothered you.”
Poison Ivy. Fitting.
“It didn’t bother me,” I answered almost immediately.
I reminded myself that she didn’t know me that well – sure, we’d been going out for two weeks but we hadn’t really been friends first. She was just someone I kept running into on campus and now she was my girlfriend. She didn’t know my history, didn’t know about Bellamy or my complicated fling with Murphy. And, hell, she only knew vague details of the shitty relationship I had with Kane. She didn’t know why Murphy subtly calling me poison irritated me, that it would be him using my insecurities against me.
It was refreshing as much as it was terrifying. We were going to have to have that conversation soon, and I wanted to have it, but being drunk in Halloween costumes wasn’t the right time for it.
Jasper did know all of these things about me, which was why I thought it was interesting he and Murphy were walking – or staggering, as it were – back to the apartments together.
Still, it fucking irritated me that Clarke could read me so well. Or maybe I wasn’t as hard to read as I thought.
“Emma,” she replied, catching my hand. “I don’t want to go into this if we’re not going to be honest with each other, okay? I thought I made it clear last Thursday – I’m interested in what’s going on in your life. Even the things that bother you.”
I sighed, lacing our fingers together. I brought her hand up to my lips, gently brushing a kiss against her knuckles. “I know. I’m sorry,” I replied. “I just don’t always want to be talking about me.”
She tugged on my hand, getting me to stop walking even as the others continued ahead of us, talking and laughing with each other. “It won’t be,” she promised. “Personally, I had an amazing time with my girlfriend and her friends. But I’m a little concerned with how tense things are between you and Murphy. I thought you guys were friends?”
Friends. Did that word even apply to us? I hadn’t talked to him in two weeks, not since before leaving for Fall Break. Not even a text. I didn’t think that when our fling ended our friendship would too, but maybe I was wrong. Maybe he really was James’ best friend all along. And I was nothing to him.
I cleared my throat. “He’s just an asshole sometimes.” Fuck, this was why I hated tequila. It made me emotional over something I didn’t need to be emotional about.
“And that’s it?” she asked, quirking a brow at me.
I looked ahead to where he walked with Jasper. Jasper swaggered a bit, though whether it was from the alcohol or from him being in character, it was hard to tell. Either way, Murphy grabbed onto him, making sure he didn’t fall over himself onto the street.
“You good?” Murphy asked, glancing over at my best friend.
“Yes, but what happened to the rum?” Jasper demanded, staring at him accusingly.
Murphy met his stare head on.“You drank it,” he deadpanned. He glanced back, almost like he was making sure Clarke and I were still following. We accidentally made eye contact. I forgot that drunk Murphy could be a decent human being and it was doing something to my heart, twisting it in the wrong direction.
“Emma,” Clarke said, bringing my attention back to her.
I hadn’t answered her question. “That’s it.” She looked between Murphy and me. I hated the look on her face, the look of uncertainty. So I pulled her closer, gently pressing my lips against hers. “I’m still coming home with you, yeah?”
Clarke smiled. “As long as you still want to.”
I nodded, pulling her even closer, my hand secure on her waist. “Trust me,” I said, kissing her again, soft and slow. “It’s what I want.”
Chapter 12: old habits die screaming
Chapter Text
For the last few weeks, Murphy tried to keep his head down.
It was easier said than done. At least, when he lived with James. The punch from his roommate had left a black eye for a few days, but Raven and Echo were the only ones to ask about it. If he was honest, he wasn’t sure what the hell the punch was about. Emma had been the one to leave him, not the other way around.
Not that there was anything to leave when all they were doing was sleeping together. Not that he’d given her any kind of reason to stay. If she had a perfectly good option, a healthy option, she should do the smart thing and choose that one. All Murphy had done was make sure she did.
His own feelings be damned.
Not that he had feelings for his best friend’s twin sister.
Murphy tried to ignore his phone that weekend everyone had gone home – everyone except him and Raven. But that damned group chat kept going off about some dinner with the twins’ family. He knew their dad was an asshole. At least their dad was around . Ish. And there had been something about Bellamy? Honestly, it had been hard to keep up and the notifications were distracting. So he’d muted it.
He’d muted his message thread with Emma, too. Not that they used it much now that they weren’t talking. Were they not talking?
When James had gotten back on campus, they talked like the punch never happened. Like James wanted to forget about it. He was good at that, both of them were. Murphy supposed it was a characteristic they got from their father. At least, based on everything James had told him about the man.
He hadn’t even wanted to go out for Halloween weekend with James, but James had promised to buy him drinks all night if he came. And since Murphy had talked him into the demon costume (after discovering Raven was going as a dark angel, of course), he felt like he owed it to him. Overall, though, the night had been kind of a waste. He just hadn’t been feeling it.
And of course, he wasn’t bothered at all by the four words Emma had said to him all night. Apathetic college student. Fitting. And definitely not bothered by watching her with Clarke all night. That would imply feelings and Murphy certainly didn’t have any of those. He’d encouraged her to go after Clarke instead of him. He was better off alone. He’d been getting too caught up in the fantasy of it all. That’s all it was. A fantasy. Not reality.
Because in reality, there was no world a girl like Emma Rhodes would ever choose someone like John Murphy.
Almost a week later and Murphy hadn’t seen much of the Rhodes twins. Not that he expected to see Emma, but James wasn’t home either. They were starting to get into the second half of the semester and he knew his roommate spent a lot of time at the library, but Murphy also kind of hoped that something happened with Raven over Halloween weekend.
Or maybe he was just really good at keeping his head down. School, work, the art studios. Murphy actually thought about going to the gym to try and get his head back on straight but he didn’t want to risk the possibility of running into Emma there. The campus was small enough as it was. It was suddenly a blessing (when it had been a curse before) that their majors never aligned and he rarely saw her on campus.
He was at home, on the couch with his sketchbook out when the door opened. Murphy looked up instinctively when James walked through the door and nodded his head. This was the first time he had been home before at least 9pm all week.
“Hey, stranger,” James greeted as he walked through the door. He closed it behind him, dropping his keys on the table and his bag by the door. “Today fucking sucked.”
Murphy laughed. “Did it?”
“Yeah. I had two papers due today and a quiz in my other class,” he replied. “I’m so fucking glad it’s Friday. You wanna go grab a drink or something? I’m surprised you’re not working.”
“Diyoza gave me the night off,” he replied. He’d been pissed about it at first. He didn’t want to be home on a Friday night when he’d actually gotten all of his assignments done early and he could’ve used the money. But his (admittedly favorite) manager gave him an attitude about taking a Friday night off for a change and promised he could work a double on Saturday to make up for it. Murphy took the deal. It didn’t matter that he’d been off last Friday for Halloween, apparently. “I don’t really want to go out but feel free to.”
“You’ve been sulking for weeks,” James remarked, not bothering to beat around the bush. He kicked his shoes off and came further into the apartment, heading directly toward the kitchen. Murphy watched as James went right into the fridge and pulled out two bottles of beer, cracked them open, and came back over to the common area, passing him one. “It can’t be because I punched you.”
I’m not sulking. Murphy snorted. “Yeah, heaven forbid your actions have consequences.”
James rolled his eyes. “You sound like Emma. Just don’t start calling me Golden Boy unironically and we’ll be good,” he said, taking a sip of his beer.
Murphy took the bottle, relieved that he didn’t react when James mentioned her name. “It does have a really good ring to it,” he mused.
James offered him a smile and then seemed to hesitate before sitting down on the armchair next to the couch. “I am sorry,” he finally said after a few moments of silence. “I’d say I didn’t mean to punch you, but… I hadn’t gotten the whole story. Not that I have gotten the whole story. But it sucks and I don’t want to be that guy. The one who lashes out and thinks later.”
“Your sister was hurt,” Murphy replied with a shrug. Like it was casual, no big deal. Like his conversation with Emma hadn’t fucking gutted him. Or rather, her conversation with him. “You assumed I was the cause. I don’t really expect rational thinking when it comes to that.”
He wouldn’t fully understand what it was like to have a sibling, let alone a younger one. Raven was probably the closest he got and that was only two years of college. But he did understand being protective of his friends. James wasn’t violent by nature – that was more Murphy’s thing, to throw first, think later – but even he knew Emma was an exception to pretty much every rule.
“Were you the cause?” James asked, pulling Murphy back out of his thoughts. He pinned him with a hard, accusing look as he sipped his beer.
Yeah. This was why there was that plan not to tell him. Not to tell anyone.
“We had a fight,” Murphy replied. “It’s over now.”
Hadn’t he had a similar conversation with Jasper on Halloween, too? The only difference was that Jasper was drunk and his threats didn’t scare Murphy.
It was too messy to get other people involved. Emma was better off with Clarke – happier with Clarke, he reminded himself. Murphy, as always, was better off on his own.
“So you’re not jealous she’s dating Clarke?” James asked, smirking over the rim of his beer before knocking back a sip.
Murphy snorted. “Me? Jealous of Clarke Griffin? I think you’re the deluded one, James,” he replied. He needed to get the subject off of him and Emma, quickly. At least this gave him a foot in the door. “Speaking of delusion, how are things with Raven? If you’re bored, I’m sure she’d be happy to spend a Friday night with you.”
James arched his brow. “I’m not delusional. Things are good with Raven. Just like things are good with Miller. Because there’s no difference.”
At this, Murphy laughed. He knew what James meant, but there was absolutely a bi joke in there somewhere. “If you say so, man. You two just looked pretty cozy at Halloween. You and Raven – not you and Miller. Not that there’s anything wrong with Nate. He’s a catch.”
Murphy would know. They had hooked up freshman year at Arkadia, but things eventually fizzled out. Neither of them were looking for anything serious and they were better off as friends. Sometimes, Murphy had been tempted to call him. Not that he had since he and Emma hooked up. Though he supposed that wasn’t really an issue now.
“Okay, we’re officially done talking about sleeping with our friends,” James replied, but his tone suggested that he knew Murphy was joking. “And when you say it’s over with you and Emma… you mean the fight? You guys back to being friends?”
He shrugged. Of course James would figure out a way to circle this conversation back to his sister. “We were never not friends, James.”
At least he hoped that was true. Throughout their whole… situation, whatever it was, he’d always considered Emma one of his closest friends. One of the few people who got to see a different side to him, a softer side. That sometimes not even James knew existed. He assumed Emma considered him the same, but maybe he was wrong. Maybe to her, he was just a hookup. Her brother’s best friend. Attractive because he was off-limits and a little dangerous, not because she actually had feelings for him.
James nodded, satisfied with that answer. Obviously whatever Emma had told him lined up with that. Murphy didn’t know why that was such a relieving thought.
“Since we’re both staying in tonight, apparently, want me to cook? We need groceries anyway so I can make whatever,” Murphy offered, eager to change the subject.
“Yeah, sounds good. Oh, how about baked macaroni and cheese? Yours is the best.”
“That’s because it’s my mom’s recipe,” he said, smiling slightly. His mom was Head Nurse at Mount Weather Hospital, where she’d worked most of Murphy’s life. Still, on the rare times she was home, she taught him the basics of cooking and the rest he picked up from having to feed himself once he got old enough and watching cooking shows on Netflix. “By the way, she was asking when was the next time you guys were coming over for dinner. Apparently it’s been too long.”
Murphy didn’t go home often. He usually stayed at school during the holiday breaks, opting to stay over Fall Break because he knew his mom would be working. But that made it easier to find an odd weekend during the month and see her and his stepdad, Ben Adler, plus he’d be sure to go home for Thanksgiving in a few weeks. Not to mention that she’d been hounding him the last time he was home when his friends – being the Rhodes twins plus Raven – would be joining him.
“Oh, hell yeah. I’ll look at my schedule and text Emma to find a time that works for us. Might have to wait until after Thanksgiving, though.”
He laughed. “Yeah, sounds good. I’ll go to the store in a bit – wanna play a round of MarioKart before then?”
“Yeah, sounds good,” James replied, reaching forward to turn the TV on. He tossed Murphy the spare controller and settled back against the couch.
As the screen came to life, Murphy sagged against the couch. At least whatever tension between him and James seemed to have resolved itself.
Maybe things could go back to normal.
Whatever that meant.
After spending Friday night in the apartment with James (after going grocery shopping for some actual, edible food), Murphy was more than a little relieved to spend almost the full following day at The Dropship. He didn’t like being stuck inside for too long – sometimes he got cabin fever after being alone for periods of time – and the chaos of The Dropship on a Saturday was a welcome distraction.
He wasn’t needed much behind the bar in the morning, so he spent time in the kitchen, covering breaks to make food or getting caught up on the ever-growing pile of dishes. It kept his mind occupied from other things and as the evening crowd started to shuffle in after Murphy’s break, he was back where he preferred to be: behind the bar.
The night went on without much fanfare. He noticed his regulars filter in and he talked to them while he filled their pints of beer or whatever mixed drink they were feeling. The younger crowd didn’t start to bustle in until around ten so when a beautiful, light brown skinned girl came over to his bar, Murphy noticed her immediately. She had pin-straight dark brown, nearly black hair that was silky smooth – something he knew from years of running his fingers through it.
She had a tattoo on her chest that had something to do with a peace symbol.
What the fuck was Emori doing in his bar? In Arkadia?
He thought he’d seen her a few months ago, back in September, but she hadn’t approached the counter and so many people filtered through The Dropship, he was convinced he was seeing things. He hadn’t bothered to mention it to anyone – not even James or Raven – because what would he say? That his high school girlfriend had somehow found her way to his college town bar? That the one girl who had ever had enough of his heart to fully break it beyond repair was somehow here?
Murphy pushed those thoughts to the side. That was high school, nearly three years ago now. They dated sophomore year until junior year, when she moved away with her parents’ divorce. He kept up with her on social media as much as he kept up with anyone, which was to say hardly at all.
He couldn’t not say something to her. But what the fuck was he supposed to say?
Thankfully, the bar was busy for another hour before he had a chance to breathe. Or think. When he finally stopped moving, Emori was still sitting at her stool at the far end of the bar. Gina’s section. Conveniently, Gina had just gone on break, so Murphy took a breath and walked over.
He knew he looked different than he had when he was in high school. The tattoo on his arm was from freshman year at Arkadia and his five o’clock shadow was more defined.
When he approached, Murphy cleared his throat. His palms sweat but at least there was no way for her to know if he kept his tight grip on the towel he used to wipe down the bar.
“Of all the bars in Arkadia, you had to walk into mine,” he drawled.
Emori looked up from her phone. She smiled, placing her hand on the bottom of her wine glass, the stem between her long, thin fingers.
“Hello, John.”
Chapter 13: now that we don't talk
Chapter Text
Saturday nights at The Dropship were my favorite. The air was different, the tension more electric and intense than a Friday – everyone had the night before to blow off steam for the week and were focused on having fun with their friends. Or, at least, that was the case with me and my friends. I’d spent most of the afternoon in the music studio and at the library with Clarke, catching up on assignments after getting a bit waylaid by Halloween and my hot girlfriend, and that was on top of going to the gym early that morning and beating the shit out of the punching bags. And honestly, that felt fucking good.
I didn’t know why there was still some pent up aggression coiled in my stomach. Things were good. School was getting stressful as we approached midterm exams, so that could be it. It could also be the radio silence from Murphy ever since Halloween. Two weeks ago. You know, except for when he basically called me poison.
I’d muted our message thread as an act of rebellion, but the joke was on me because it wasn’t like he’d used it much anyway.
Now, dressed in a pair of skinny jeans, thigh high boots, and a deep v-neck black sweater, I sat at the bar next to Clarke, Raven, Jasper, James, and Miller. It felt good to have the whole group out again – we hadn’t all been able to see each other since that fateful Halloween weekend, but now, it was like nothing had changed.
Murphy worked behind the bar tonight in his black long sleeve Dropship shirt, and Echo worked the other side in a Dropship tank top and zip-up hoodie over it. The bar was hot, the air thick with all of the bodies pressed close together, so I didn’t think they would be too cold. And they were constantly moving.
“You’d think they’d have more people working on a Saturday,” Clarke commented, her fingers twisting with mine.
“Sometimes we get backed up on breaks,” Murphy replied, finally able to take a breather and pull himself away from a group of sorority girls. He glanced over at me, noting my third half-drunk Rum and Coke, and without a word, reached under the bar and pulled out an empty glass.
“I didn’t order anything-”
“I know,” he said flatly, his lips pressed in a thin line. He pulled the bar gun out from underneath and filled the empty glass with clear liquid. He pushed it towards me. “Drink. You shotgunned two of those before you touched your fries.”
“Aw, it’s almost like you care,” Jasper teased, smirking over at him.
“Watch it or you’re next,” Murphy retorted. He glanced back at me. “I’m not cleaning vomit up off the counter tonight, Rhodes.”
I rolled my eyes but Murphy did have a point. I’d had the first two drinks pretty quickly upon arrival, but it had been a long week and I was thirsty. Besides, I didn’t think he was paying much attention to me.
“He’s got a point, actually,” Clarke chimed in. “I don’t really want to clean up vomit either.”
Jasper snorted. “Ouch. Oh for 2, Em. Better have that water.”
“I hate both of you,” I grumbled, glaring at Murphy and begrudgingly grabbing the water.
Murphy shrugged and pulled out two more empty glasses, filling them both with water. He passed them to Clarke and Jasper, who each took them with less of a fight than I did. James, Raven, and Miller kept themselves occupied at the pool table and for a moment, I took a break from what was going on around me and watched them. They were playing two against two, Miller with some random girl he’d probably picked up at the bar. The girl was shamelessly flirting with him and I almost felt bad for her.
Wrong team, girl, I wanted to tell her, but was too far away to interfere.
It was amusing watching James and Raven, though. The way they stood near each other, their hips hitting against each other, lingering touches. Raven laughing at James’ jokes. And while I knew my brother could be funny, he wasn’t that funny. The title of the funny twin belonged to me, of course.
“You think they’ll ever get it together?” Jasper asked, his head hovering over my shoulder.
“Who?” Clarke wondered, glancing at the two of us.
Jasper didn’t retreat but Clarke didn’t seem to care. Almost like she knew there would never be anything between me and my roommate other than sibling affection.
Unlike my ex-boyfriend.
What a fucking concept, Blake.
Jasper jutted his chin in the direction of Raven and James. “Those idiots over there. They couldn’t be any more obvious if they tried.”
“Yeah, I dunno. James is kind of the definition of an idiot. Remember in high school, when Lindsey Fox had a crush on him and it took like, half of the school year to ask her out?”
He laughed. “Oh god, that was awful. I felt bad for her. I almost went up to her and was like, ‘It’s not you, James just has his head so far up his ass you could tell him you were in love with him and he still wouldn’t believe you’.”
Clarke laughed. “You did not,” she replied, her fingers twisting with mine.
“I didn’t! I was nice! But I wanted to,” Jasper promised.
“Believe me, though, he was a menace in high school,” I said, grinning at him.
Murphy snorted. “Glad to see some people don’t change.”
I was about to open my mouth to respond, but just as I did, a pretty girl with long brunette hair and light brown skin sat down a few seats away from us. Normally, I would consider walking over and shooting my shot, but two things were different now:
First, obviously, was my beautiful girlfriend, occupying my thoughts as her fingers twisted one hand while the other sat casually on my knee.
Second, it was the way Murphy’s face lit up. Like he knew her. Liked her, even.
“Let me know if you guys need anything else,” he said.
Before I could find something to distract him, he walked over, smiling as he rested his palms on the bar. He leaned forward, his muscles flexing in his sleeves.
“I’m sorry, who the fuck is that?” I asked no one in particular.
As far as I knew, Murphy didn’t have any friends. None outside of James, Miller, and Raven.
Clarke glanced over at me, squeezing my fingers. “Seems like a friend.”
“Murphy doesn’t have those,” I protested, unable to take my eyes off of them. Leaning forward, I pulled my drink forward with my free hand, taking a long sip through the straw.
Jasper, who had been suspiciously quiet as this interaction went on, nudged me with his phone. “Murphy’s ex,” he said proudly, showing me his Instagram page.
Murphy didn’t post much on social media so it probably didn’t take long to scroll to find her. And there were plenty of pictures of the two of them together, the most notable being one of the girl kissing his cheek, Murphy’s arm wrapped around her waist while looking at her instead of the camera.
I almost choked on my Rum and Coke. Clarke frowned, her hand going from my knee to my back as she rubbed in circles.
“You good, Em?”
“I, uh–yeah,” I assured her, pulling my attention back to her. To Clarke, my beautiful girlfriend, who was currently sitting next to me. Unable to take her hands off of me. The girl I was undoubtedly going home with tonight, so why did it matter that Murphy’s ex randomly showed up at The Dropship?
And why had he never mentioned her before?
Did James know?
Why the fuck does it even matter, Em?
It didn’t. Of course it didn’t.
I smiled at Clarke as if my heart wasn’t pounding in my chest. “Hey,” I started as the music changed to one of my favorite non-Taylor Swift songs. “You wanna dance?”
Clarke grinned back at me. “Thought you’d never ask.”
I slid off my stool and pulled her with me. Without even glancing at Murphy, I leaned in, kissing her gently. Nothing gaudy, nothing for show, but a small reminder that she was mine and I was hers. No matter who the pretty brunette girl sitting across from Murphy was.
“Have fun, kids!” Jasper called as I pulled her into the crowd of people on the dance floor. I knew Jasper would keep our drinks safe (unless he abandoned our spot, which was possible). My arms wrapped around Clarke and as we started dancing to the rhythm of the music, much like we had the night of my twenty-first birthday party, any other thoughts drifted out of my mind.
Nothing mattered but the girl in my arms. The one I was going home with.
And certainly not the man behind the bar, happy to see some girl from his past.
I’d never seen him smile like that before. And certainly not at me.
Clarke pulled me closer, her arms around my waist and one of her legs going between mine. And I let the girl and the music drown out the noise.
Because nothing else mattered.
No matter how much my heart tried to convince me otherwise.
“Good morning, sunshine,” Jasper chirped as I strolled through the door to the loft the next morning. He sat in his usual morning-after debrief spot, a large to go cup of iced coffee in his hand. He looked a little worse for wear but still managed to smirk at me.
He knew I wasn’t wearing the same clothes I’d left the apartment in last night. In fact, I wore one of Clarke’s long sleeve shirts and my own pair of jeans because it was a lot colder this morning than either of us expected. And I hadn’t brought a jacket with me.
“Morning, sweetheart,” I replied with an eye roll. “Where’s Raven?”
“Raven did not come home last night,” he replied with a shit-eating grin on his face.
I arched a brow at him, remembering how cozy she had looked with James the night before. “Is there something you want to share with the class?” I asked, dropping my key on the table next to the door. I took a sip of my own iced latte, the one I’d gotten on the way back from Clarke’s this morning.
“Well, I have it on good authority that she is with someone the groupchat would approve of,” he said, his eyes doing a once over of me. “Nice shirt, by the way.”
I didn’t bother to hide my smile as I sat on the couch next to him. “Thanks, it’s my girlfriend’s.”
Jasper waggled his eyebrows at me and placed a hand on his heart. “Aw, you kids grow up so fast.”
“Don’t change the subject. Do we actually know Raven went home with James? Because she crashes there all the time, it’s not like it would be that out of the ordinary.”
“All I said was that I knew she went home with him. We’ll have to wait for her to come home for us to fill in the details.”
I raised my hands in defense. I propped my knee up on the couch and turned to face him, leaning my back against the armrest.
“Okay, fair point,” I said, my eyes running over him again. I knew he had the tendency for darker periods of time and even though he’d been acting normal the last couple of weeks, I still saw the tells. The dullness in his dark brown eyes, the circles underneath that would probably match mine if I hadn’t started sleeping with Clarke. “You good, buddy?”
I’d adopted ‘buddy’ from the others and often used it when I tried to have a serious conversation with Jasper. Those were hard to come by, especially when I asked him about himself, but I didn’t want to be that person that got so swept up with her relationship and her own drama that I forgot to check in on my friends. Especially the friends who were like siblings to me, who I knew had his own struggles.
If things were really bad, I could usually get him to talk to me. He had his own therapist and that helped, but I also knew that the sadness came in waves. And some days were stronger than others.
He gave a noncommittal shrug. “Yeah, I’m good. Just stressed. I fucking hate midterm season.”
I managed a weak laugh. Some of my euphoria from the amazing night I’d had crashed inside me, replaced with worry for my best friend, but I didn’t let it show.
“Yeah, me too. I’d rather do double tech weeks than sit through midterms.”
Jasper managed a laugh and I considered it a small win. “Honestly same. Although senior year was pretty brutal.”
Our senior year, we’d done Grease with Jasper and I as Danny and Sandy. With all of the extra rehearsals, costume tweaks, and dances to learn, we were in that high school auditorium until at least nine o’clock every night.
The show itself took a huge toll on my relationship with Bellamy and he wasn’t thrilled about me playing opposite my best friend, especially not when everyone always commented on our chemistry. Of course, that was right around the time he cheated on me with Gina Martin, but that was neither here nor there.
“Hey, it was pretty fun though,” I said, kicking his leg. “Next time we go out to karaoke at The Dropship, we should do ‘You’re The One I Want ’.”
A real smile spread across his face. “I’m gonna hold you to that, Ems.”
I nodded, my own lips curling up slightly. “I knew you would.”
Comfortable silence passed between us. I checked my phone but there were no new notifications. I shot off a quick text to Clarke to let her know I made it back to my apartment and looked up as Jasper spoke next, looking up from his own phone. He finished typing something before setting it face down.
“So you wanna talk about last night?” Jasper asked, like he’d been waiting to ask me that question since I’d walked into the apartment. Knowing him, he probably had been.
“You really want to talk about how I hooked up with my girlfriend last night?” I asked, raising a skeptical brow at him.
He shrugged. “Obviously, but that’s not what I meant.”
“Then what did you mean?”
“Murphy’s ex? Casually showing up to the bar when we didn’t even know he had an ex?”
Normally, yes. I did want to talk about Murphy’s ex. And how seeing the way his face lit up at the sight of her twisted a splinter in my heart. But as I ignored the splinter, I could ignore the question. I was never going to get over him if I kept obsessing over why he didn’t tell me things. I had a future to look forward to, one with a beautiful girl who liked me quite a bit.
There was no longer space in my brain – or my heart – for John Murphy. He could get back together with that beautiful ex-girlfriend of his and maybe we would both be happier.
Because waiting for him was useless and disappointing.
“So you think I should?” I asked, finally meeting his gaze. “Be with her.”
“If that’s what you want, you should make it happen.”
“And you can't think of another reason why I shouldn't?”
“I'm not your boyfriend, Rhodes. Do what you want.”
The memory of our conversation from my birthday hit me like a freight train. I remembered going to his apartment the next morning, ending our situationship. How cold and detached he’d been, like he’d prepared for that conversation.
As if he’d already had it once before.
Because he had.
A sinking feeling hit my stomach and it twisted the splinter in my heart a little deeper.
“Em?” Jasper prompted when I didn’t answer him. “What do you think the deal is with her?”
“I don’t know, Jasper,” I replied, having a sip of my iced latte. My phone buzzed between my leg and the cushion of the couch and Clarke 💕🌈 popped up on the screen. I tried not to smile. “If Murphy didn’t tell us about her, there’s probably a reason. It’s not our business. And frankly, I don’t care.”
Jasper raised his brow at me again. “You don’t care.”
The tone of his voice heavily suggested that he didn’t believe me, but the only person I had to convince was myself. I didn’t want the ghost of nothing to ruin what could potentially be a great relationship. I just had to let it.
Clarke made it clear she was interested in sticking around. Now it was my turn to give her a reason to.
“No,” I insisted, standing up. I grabbed my phone and my drink. “I don’t. I’m going to go work on some homework. Let me know if you want to grab food later.”
He nodded, still looking at me like he didn’t believe the words I was saying. But I decided then that it didn’t matter if he believed me or not. The only one that had to believe me was me. And Clarke.
And I was going to do everything in my power to make that a reality.
“Yeah, will do,” he promised.
I wanted to say something else, some other witty one-liner, but that would only prove Jasper’s point. That I did care about Murphy’s ex and why he never talked about her. Not in all of those conversations on the roof freshman year. Not on all the nights we were out drinking as a group. Not in all the mornings I woke up in his apartment, arms and legs wrapped around him.
He knew about Bellamy, about James, about Kane.
And I knew nothing.
Maybe I really was just his best friend’s annoying twin sister after all.
I slammed the door to my room, wincing as the noise was louder than I expected. It wasn’t Jasper’s fault. It wasn’t even mine. Or was it?
But it was time not to care. For the first time since my senior year of high school, I was excited about the future. My future.
With Clarke.
Everyone else be damned.
Chapter 14: they see right through me
Chapter Text
“So is that everything?” James asked.
We stood outside the apartment building parking lot near his BMW. Clarke was next to me, her arms wrapped around my waist. My own looped behind her back, drawing her closer. A cool November breeze pushed through the trees, and I shivered, inching my way closer to my girlfriend for warmth. Most of the leaves had fallen and temperatures seemed to drop a little more every day.
It made me almost giddy thinking about going back home to the lake for three weeks after finals. Sure, we were packing the car for Thanksgiving now, but winter was my second favorite time of year at Lake Polis. For us college kids, the colder season meant a break from studying, the holidays, and all the traditions that came with it – sledding with Octavia (who, despite being Bellamy's little sister, was still really cool), Maya Hart (Jasper's secret crush that he would never admit to), and the rest of our crew; ice skating on the frozen lake; hot chocolate from Lakeside Roast (our local cafe that flooded with tourists every summer). The Christmas tree lighting in the middle of the town square? Straight out of a Hallmark movie, even when Kane was too busy to attend. Mom always did.
(Not that I'd ever admit that I loved these traditions out loud. I always put up a mock fight because James loved them so much, and half the fun was teasing him about it. It was part of the tradition.)
“I think so,” I replied, glancing through the window at the rear of the car.
Before we got to Christmas break, though, we had a long weekend for Thanksgiving. It felt like James and I had just been home for our birthdays, but then, it felt like that every year. Even though the amount of assignments and chaos that had happened between now and then wanted to prove otherwise.
“When are you coming back?” Clarke asked, bringing my gaze back to hers.
At least things between us had been steady. Ever since I saw Emori at The Dropship, I had been spending most of my time focused on Clarke, school, and the gym. I barely thought about him and Clarke and I had some good conversations over the last few weeks. And things were so good, I was thinking it was time to tell Mom.
“Sunday night,” James said, answering for me. “You?”
“Sunday morning,” Clarke replied, pushing some hair out of my eyes. “Mom’s usually busy at the hospital most days so Thanksgiving is a short visit.”
“At least you’ll get to see her for a few days,” I replied. I knew how close Clarke was with her mom. That she hadn’t told her own about us made me feel better about not telling mine. We had talked about telling our parents over the holidays.
I was kind of terrified. I hadn’t even told James I was planning on telling her.
Maybe I should? Would he be supportive? Or would he think it was a terrible idea?
At least he knew.
“Yeah, it’ll be nice,” she agreed. “Now go before I keep you chained here.”
I smiled at her, pulling her closer. She leaned in to kiss me and even though we had kissed at The Dropship, even though we had kissed in the hallway, we hadn’t kissed outside. I didn’t care that people saw. Somehow, this felt too… formal. Even though she was my girlfriend. She made me happy.
Nothing about this was wrong. And yet…
I kissed her quickly before pulling away from her. She looked a little crestfallen but smiled at me anyway. Like she didn’t want me to know it bothered her.
“I’ll miss you,” she said, reaching up to run her hand along my cheek.
“I’ll miss you, too. I’ll text you when we get home.”
“Me, too.”
“Let’s go, Emmaline!” James sing-songed from where he hung out the driver’s side door.
I never thought I would be relieved to be interrupted by my brother. And I shouldn’t have been. I wanted to kiss my girlfriend in the parking lot, to say goodbye like a proper couple. It wasn’t as if anyone cared at Arkadia.
But the only people who knew I was bi were my best friends, my brother, and my girlfriend.
Did this mean I had to make a coming out post on Instagram? Would Clarke want that?
Would I want that?
Suddenly, the idea of coming out at all felt overwhelming. The idea of telling my mother was terrifying. And if Kane found out…
“I’ll text you,” I said around the lump in my throat. I squeezed her side before heading into the car, closing the passenger’s side door behind me. As I clipped my seatbelt into place, I noticed Jamie giving me a questioning look, his eyebrow raised.
“So-”
“Don’t,” I snapped, reaching for his phone to pick the music. “Or I will make you listen to Taylor Swift’s entire discography for the next two and a half hours.”
He snorted and settled into the seat behind the wheel, clicking his own seatbelt into place. “That’s not much different from normal.”
I rolled my eyes. After he turned on the car and we found a playlist we would both enjoy, James started backing out of the parking space. I glanced through the side-view mirror, thinking that Clarke might watch us pull out, but she was already gone.
Disappointment settled in my chest like I couldn’t make up my fucking mind.
James glanced over at me as he pulled out onto the street. “You know, Em-”
“Please don’t,” I repeated softer. “I really don’t want a lecture from my brother right now.”
“I wasn’t going to lecture,” he replied, actually sounding hurt at the accusation. “I was just going to say that if you wanted to talk to me, you could. About anything.”
I wanted to say, ‘Not this’, but James would argue that he meant this. We hadn’t always been able to talk about everything, but being at Arkadia had brought us closer together. Even talking about sexuality had come up our sophomore year.
Silence settled between us as he pulled out onto the main road, the music filling the spaces when I couldn’t think of words to say. All I wanted to do was focus on Clarke and be happy. She was my future, even if the future was temporary. It wasn’t like I was planning on marrying her. After Bellamy, I honestly wasn’t sure if I wanted to get married at all.
Maybe I was just scared?
I knew I liked her. I knew I was attracted to her. The heat and the chemistry when we were together was undeniable. She was smart and sassy and sexy as hell.
What the hell was my problem?
“Emma?” James prompted after we’d successfully merged onto the highway, where we’d be driving for the foreseeable future. There were green lines on the GPS screen indicating clear traffic and the weather was supposed to be good all weekend. Cold, but no signs of snow.
“What?” I asked, my voice choked. I tried not to wince.
He glanced over at me before glancing back at the road ahead. “She makes you happy, right?”
“Yeah,” I said. At least that much was true. “She does.”
“Good,” he replied, nodding as if to confirm. “Then nothing else matters.”
Easy enough for him to say. He was in love with his best friend. Not that he had confirmed those feelings about Raven to me, but anyone with eyes and a brain could see how they looked at each other. How they acted around each other. Some days, I wanted to shake him on her behalf.
I wanted that, I realized with a jolt. That ease and comfort that came with falling in love with your best friend, when all the first touches were terrifying and electrifying.
Clarke made me happy. But she wasn’t… that.
You know who was that?
I swallowed and ignored the voice in my head. I wasn’t thinking about him anymore. I’d closed the door on that chapter of my life when he didn’t ask me to choose him. When he told me not to choose him.
So I didn’t.
“Yeah,” I said when I realized he was probably waiting for me to say something. “I know.”
And in theory, I knew. Maybe it was the stress from school. Maybe I needed a weekend away and would come back to Arkadia feeling happier and more confident in my relationship.
Maybe I just needed a fucking break.
Thanksgiving at the Rhodes-Kane household wasn’t a grand affair.
Mom used to make it a bigger deal, used to have one of the cooks make a large turkey and stuffing feast, complete with mashed potatoes, rolls, and various vegetables spread across the long dining room table. James and I were supposed to dress nicely – for me, that meant a skirt or a dress and, for James, trousers and a button down. But every year, Kane never could quite make it to dinner. He always had some excuse or made it to dinner and left early for some work thing. I wasn’t sure what kind of financial business could happen when the markets weren’t even open on Thanksgiving or the day after, but I never questioned it. Aloud.
She tried to keep it going for a few years, for the three of us. Sometimes we had Thanksgiving with the Blakes. And then Bellamy abruptly broke up with me after high school graduation.
Now, we ordered enough Chinese food to feed a small army and ate in our sweatpants in the living room. If Kane wanted to join us, there was plenty for him, but most of the time, he locked himself away in his office. The tradition started when James and I first went to Arkadia, and now, Thanksgiving was my favorite holiday. Mom seemed to enjoy it more, too – it was one of the few times I saw her actually relax around a holiday. Our birthdays included.
Sometimes Murphy or Raven came home with us, sometimes Jasper did. This year, it was just the two of us – Murphy was going to see his mom and Raven was going with him. Jasper was with Monty and Harper this year.
As much as I loved my friends, this year, I was glad no one came home with us. It was nice to spend time with Mom and James.
We talked about nothing specific over dinner. James and I caught her up on how our classes were going, what our current projects were. I was working on a bunch of lesson plans for one of my education classes and I would have to spend some time on break doing that – pages and pages of outlines I knew I likely wouldn’t actually use in the real classroom. But it was required to get my degree, so.
Mom asked about Raven and Jasper and Murphy. When she asked about Murphy (John always to her), James thankfully steered clear of any conflict between the three of us.
She asked about our love lives once. James said he was focusing on school – even though when Mom asked about Raven, his neck flushed – and she pretended to believe him.
“Emma?” she asked, glancing over at me. “Anyone special for you?”
That she hadn’t specified that it had to be a guy was reassuring. James and I exchanged a look, but I still wasn’t ready to tell her. Even with the words on the tip of my tongue, even with the desire to tell her about this amazing, beautiful, smart as hell girl.
Because Clarke was special, despite my earlier discomfort. She was the first person to make me want to tell my mom. I didn’t care about the rest of the world. Just Mom.
I shrugged. “No,” I finally settled on. “Not really.”
Hours later in my room, guilt and a bit of shame stayed with me. James disappeared into his own room and I sat at my keyboard, staring at the black and white keys. I wanted to play, wanted to get lost in a song and a melody and pour my emotions into something other than my head. My iPad sat on the music rack, the chords to ‘The Archer ’ by Taylor Swift up on the screen.
The most my fingers had done in the last thirty minutes was hover over the damn keys.
And then, miraculously, as I started touching down on the first chord, my phone lit up. A photo of Murphy popped on my screen, a broad smile brightening his piercing blue eyes. I grabbed it and continued to stare at it as if that would solve all of my problems.
Facetime call – Murphy.
I frowned. Why the fuck was Murphy calling me?
Against my better judgement, I hit the accept button and Murphy filled my screen. He wore a dark blue silk button down, the top two buttons hanging open. I did my best not to stare.
“Happy Thanksgiving, Rhodes,” he said casually.
I raised my brow at him. “Happy Thanksgiving?”
“Yeah. Last I checked, it was a holiday, right?” he asked. “And we’re friends?”
“Are we?”
He shrugged. “I thought so.”
I swallowed the burn in my throat and focused back on him. “Well, if you think so, then it must be true,” I replied, unable to keep the dryness out of my voice.
Murphy sighed. “Yeah. Well, I just wanted to see if you had a good holiday. So…”
I sighed, too. I was tired of fighting a battle that seemed to only exist in my head. Even though he let me walk away from him, even though he acted like he didn’t care… didn’t he? He still made sure I drank water at the bar. Still made sure I ate. Even if we hadn’t hung out by ourselves since I walked away from him, he wasn’t being overly hostile to me.
“Thanks.” I was surprised to find that I meant it. “Sorry, I’ve just been a little overwhelmed.”
He snorted. “Overwhelmed? By what, you and Griffin being obsessed with each other? Must be tough, all that adoration and perfection.”
I cut a glare at him. “We’re not perfect.”
Again, I thought about my discomfort the other day when James and I were leaving. Clarke and I had been talking off and on, through text and Facetime, and things seemed fine now. But I didn’t miss the disappointed look on her face when I pulled away, and I couldn’t help but feel like something was off. There was a definite shift in our relationship, even if she tried to hide like it didn’t exist.
Murphy frowned. “Rhodes,” he urged, as if sensing the discontentment from the other side of the screen. “You good?”
I mean, aside from the fact that I just told you I was overwhelmed…
I ignored the voice in my head again. He was trying to be my friend. I needed to let him.
“Yeah.”
“Okay. That’s bullshit, but okay. I know we kinda forgot how to do the whole talking thing for a while, but if you need to…”
I nodded, my fingers hovering over the keys again.
“Yeah. Thanks.”
“And don’t think I won’t kick her ass if she hurts you.”
I wanted to argue that it was probably going to be the other way around. That there was no way I deserved someone as amazing as Clarke Griffin.
“You will have to fight Jamie for that.”
“Your brother can get in fucking line. And don’t even get me started on Reyes and Jordan.”
At that, a real smile pulled onto my face. It almost sounded like the old Murphy – the Murphy I met on the rooftop freshman year at Arkadia. The Murphy who became one of my closest friends well before the sex.
“Jasper can’t fight,” I blurted.
Murphy smiled. “I’m aware. He threatens a lot, though.”
“Does he?”
“Oh yeah.”
And just like that, an easy conversation forms between us. As if no time passed. As if we hadn’t hurt each other in irreversible ways. Or maybe that was just him hurting me in irreversible ways.
Or maybe we really were just friends all along. It was too confusing to wrap my head around. So I tried not to focus on it.
By the time the call wrapped up, I felt lighter than I had when I sat down at my piano bench. Somewhere in the middle of it, I left the bench and ended up in my bed, my phone propped up on my nightstand as we continued to talk. Nothing important.
But there were no silences, either.
He didn’t mention the girl from the bar. I didn’t ask about her, either.
Eventually, we said goodnight, and I thanked him again for calling me. When I looked at my phone, there were four missed texts from Clarke.
And that was when I noticed the time. I frowned again and jumped into the call history.
My Facetime with Murphy lasted over two and a half hours. And neither of us noticed.
I filed that information away with whatever feelings it threatened to bring to the surface and went to text my girlfriend back.
At the very least, though, John Murphy was my friend again.
All because of a stupid ‘Happy Thanksgiving’ call.
Chapter 15: don't read the last page
Chapter Text
Eleven days since Thanksgiving.
Eleven days.
That was how long it took for my life to fall apart.
Thanksgiving weekend was uneventful. While I mentioned to Clarke that Murphy called, I left out that it lasted for over two hours. It didn’t seem important; we talked about nothing significant. Our classes. Jasper’s latest antics. What our moms were doing for the weekend (he was smart and never asked about Kane). I didn’t want her to worry about something that meant nothing.
My friend was back. I shared that much, and she seemed happy for me. Even with the phone call, not much changed when we got back to school. We texted occasionally, but only hung out in group settings. Whether that was intentional or not, I was too afraid to ask.
Things were going fine. Better than fine. Clarke and I were stronger than ever, though she was a little disappointed that I didn’t tell Mom about her over the weekend. She understood, at least. She didn’t exactly get around to telling her mom, either.
Everything was just… fine.
Until I got the call.
“Emma?” Mom’s voice was strained and choked with tears. “It’s James. There’s been an accident. You need to come to the hospital. Mount Weather.” She didn’t say more than that but I heard the fear in her voice.
I was in the music studio. The only reason I answered at all was because my phone was propped up on the piano bracket and Mom’s face lit up my screen. Everyone else was typically on Do Not Disturb while I was there. I had a lot of songs and material to focus on.
But Mom’s call broke through the barrier, and my heart stopped. He was okay, right? I would know if he–
Our twintuition, as Jasper called it, was strong. I would know if something happened.
Then again, I had no idea he had been in an accident at all.
I’d dropped everything. I didn’t think to call anyone except an Uber. There was no way I was going to drive myself. Ubers weren’t always reliable, but this one picked me up. I gave the address to Mount Weather Hospital. The driver weaved through quiet traffic on Main Street, but the pressure in my chest wouldn’t go away. My palms were sweaty, my stomach knotted.
I hadn’t seen James at all today. The last time was a quick bite from the dining hall between study periods. He often disappeared during finals prep. Our last real conversation was over Thanksgiving break about Clarke.
“You don’t have to marry everyone you date. You know that, right?” he remarked, sitting across from me on his bed. His brows were pushed forward, a serious and thoughtful expression on his face. “I know everyone joked that you and Bellamy were meant to be, but that doesn’t have to define all your relationships. You can hang out with someone just for fun. And if it doesn’t work out, it’s not the end of the world. You’ll both move on. Maybe even be friends.”
Disappointment found its way into my throat. I wasn’t sure I wanted to marry Clarke. But I liked her, even if the PDA outside was a little uncomfortable.
“I really care about her, though, Jamie,” I replied. Not defensive, just honest.
“So talk to her about it. If you want to be together, you’ll figure out a way. If you don’t want to be with her… that’s okay, too. There are plenty of other people out there.”
“I don’t want anyone else,” I replied firmly. “I want her.”
James held up his hands in surrender. “Okay. Then you’ll make it work.”
“We will,” I promised.
For the first time, I truly believed both things: I didn’t want anyone else. Not Murphy. Not someone random from a dating app. The universe pointed me in the direction of Clarke when I felt lost, like she was the direction I needed.
And, of course, it was my idiot brother who helped me realize it. He would never let me live it down – so he had to be alive long enough for me to tell him he was right.
The Uber came to a stop right in front of the hospital entrance, pulling me back to the present. The present, where my twin brother lay somewhere inside. I didn't know if he was alive or…
“Mount Weather Hospital,” the driver announced. She glanced at me through the rearview mirror. “Good luck.”
I grabbed my phone and checked the time. What should have been a 15 minute ride from my apartment to the hospital got me here in 10. I gathered my things and climbed out of the car, not saying anything to the driver.
“Mom?” I called as I rushed through the sliding doors. She stood at the reception desk with a tall, stern-looking woman with grey hair. As both women faced me, I recognized those bright blue eyes immediately. I had let myself get lost in them too many times.
“Emma,” Mom greeted, relief flooding her face as she rushed over to me. Her own brown eyes looked dull and weary as she hugged me tightly. As if I had been the one in the car.
“I’m here,” I promised, my heart racing. Panic gripped my stomach and I clutched onto her tightly, temporarily forgetting about the stern nurse. “I’m okay.”
Mom squeezed me tighter. I almost couldn’t breathe but I wouldn’t make her let go. Not when one of her kids was behind these doors.
“Emma,” the nurse replied, breaking us apart. Mom tucked some of my loose hair behind my ears and I focused in on the Head Nurse of Mount Weather. Mrs. Murphy. “I was just updating your mom about James.”
This was not the Mrs. Murphy who welcomed my brother and me during freshman year. She had opened her house and arms when she found out we were friends with her son. Not the Mrs. Murphy who hugged me, who fed me dinner, who swore she was going to have a talk with my father one of these days. This was Head Nurse Mrs. Murphy, her lips pulled in a tight line. A clipboard in her hand. Professional at all times. I knew she likely wasn’t working James’ case but the fact that she was here, comforting Mom…
I wasn’t sure if that made me feel better or worse.
“Sorry,” I said quickly, taking another step back. “Is he–?”
“He’s in surgery right now. You’re both welcome to wait here until we know more.”
Until we know more.
A pit formed in the bottom of my stomach, threatening to swallow me whole. I glanced around the waiting room, and sure enough, there were no signs of Kane at all. Maybe he was getting coffee? Doing something useful? Surely he had to be here, in the waiting room, when his favorite son, the Golden Boy of Polis High School, was lying somewhere on a cold surgical table?
God, I wanted to throw up.
But I couldn’t focus on myself right now. Someone had to take care of Mom.
Because obviously Kane wasn’t around to do it.
I was disappointed, unsurprised, and filled with rage.
I swallowed it all down, pushed it to the side. I ran through a list of things I needed to do: make phone calls. Maybe get coffee for everyone.
Do anything but think about why I was here. Do anything but think about what could happen in the next few hours.
Anything to keep my anxiety from crawling out of my chest.
The next few hours were a blur.
I didn’t call Kane. Mom insisted she had, that he was on his way, but was in traffic. It wasn’t enough but there wasn’t anything I could do. So I focused on what I could do.
I called Clarke first. “Hey, I just – there’s been a – can you come to the hospital? Mount Weather. It’s James.”
I’d meant to tell her she wasn’t obligated to come; we hadn’t been dating for very long and I was acutely aware that Mom was here. That Mom didn’t know I was dating anyone, let alone a girl. I knew it wouldn’t matter today, but I still hated that it lingered in my mind.
“I’ll be there,” Clarke replied, no hesitation. No questions. And the fucking relief I felt should’ve spoken volumes.
Next, I sent a group text. It should’ve been individual, but I wasn’t sure I had it in me. I could barely process the words. I texted Raven, Miller, and Jasper all at once. It was our last few days of classes before finals kicked in and I knew mostly everyone would be free this afternoon.
Jasper emphasized the message and said that he was on his way. Raven was enroute and Miller would leave as soon as he was out of class.
One by one, my friends arrived. James’ friends arrived. Clarke came first, wrapping me in the world’s most bone-crushing hug. I pressed my face into her shoulder. For a moment, I felt something besides the heavy numbness that consumed me.
“Thank you,” I whispered hoarsely.
“You don’t have to thank me, Em,” she replied just as softly. “You need me? I’m here.”
“I do,” I promised.
“Here I am,” she murmured.
She tightened her grip on my waist and I buried my face in the crook of her shoulder, her vanilla and citrus scent of her perfume comforting me. The hug didn’t last long as she pulled away from me. A stray piece of hair fell out of my messy ponytail and she reached up to brush it away. Her fingers lightly ran over my cheekbone as her face softened.
When I took a step back, she squeezed my hands, hers warm and tender in comparison to mine. I didn’t even realize I was shaking until she covered both hands with her own. She started to bring them to her lips, but then thought better of it, as if remembering why we were here. As if remembering the conversation we’d had about PDA and reconsidering her next move.
Instead, she ran her thumb over my knuckles as Jasper walked through the sliding doors of Mount Weather next. Two coffees in his hand – both large and iced. My resolve nearly broke at the sight of him; at my best friend, who had been there for me through everything. Elementary school, middle school, high school. Bellamy, Murphy, and now Clarke. His usual chaotic personality was toned down by the environment. His face looked solemn, with his brows furrowed.
“Em,” he breathed. He crossed the distance from the entrance to where Clarke and I stood off to the side. Mom sat in one of the hard plastic chairs, alone, and I wanted to go over and comfort her. Instead, Clarke dropped my hands as Jasper pressed one of the coffees into mine. The cup was cold, condensation dripping from the ice. The other was clearly for him. “Shaken espresso. Half decaf.”
I was going to open my mouth to argue, but he gave me a pointed look. He knew better. My anxiety was bad enough – I didn’t need to mix caffeine with it.
“Thank you,” I whispered again.
He nodded and wrapped me in a familiar one-armed hug, his arm around my waist. “Any word?”
“Still in surgery,” I replied. “Mrs. M couldn’t tell me much.”
“Couldn’t tell you much,” he said with a smirk.
“Don’t flirt with Murphy’s mom,” I chided, knowing exactly what he was thinking. “You won’t get answers.”
Hearing his name – even in a joke – made something twist in my gut. I hadn’t called him. I wasn’t sure if I could. If it made me a coward after our Thanksgiving call or if it simply meant that I was overwhelmed by it all.
“Murphy’s mom?” Clarke echoed, looking between us.
“Yeah. She’s Head Nurse,” Jasper explained.
“That… explains a lot, actually,” Clarke said, as if I was supposed to know what that meant.
“Come on,” he said, taking Clarke’s elbow. “Raven should be here soon. Let’s go sit.”
I knew when Raven got here, she would likely go sit with Mom. Over the past two years, they became close. Mom welcomed my friends with open arms. She and Raven shared a special bond because Raven didn't have a good relationship with her mom. And I knew she knew how Raven and James felt about each other – even if they hadn’t said it outloud.
A crushing thought hit me.
What if they couldn’t say it to each other? What if they never got the chance?
I pushed the thought away. I couldn’t let myself think like that. I wouldn’t let myself think like that, even as an ache ripped through my chest.
We walked to the cluster of hard, plastic chairs together, Jasper still lightly touching Clarke’s arm to steer her in the right direction. I wanted to introduce Clarke to Mom, but it didn’t seem like the right time. And what would I call her? She was my girlfriend, but that label felt too heavy for the moment. I didn’t want to take the attention away from James.
“Mom,” I started, glancing nervously between her and Clarke, “this is–”
“Hey, Mama Rhodes,” Jasper interrupted, reaching down and wrapping his arm around Mom’s shoulders in a similar one-armed hug he’d given me. Swooping in to save me, as if sensing my discomfort. Mom had never taken Kane’s name after getting married and as such, James and I were Emma and James Rhodes, not Emma and James Kane. Or Rhodes-Kane. “This is Clarke, our newest adoptee.”
Mom glanced between Clarke and me, a soft, knowing expression on her face. As if she had seen the tender moment between us and that was all the confirmation she needed. “Thanks for coming, Jasper. And nice to meet you, Clarke. It’s always nice to meet one of Emma’s new… friends.”
There was that awkward pause around the word ‘friends’. As if she knew already.
I tried not to wince but Clarke didn’t seem to mind. She reached out and shook Mom’s hand like she wasn’t the girl who spent half her nights in my bed.
“I wish it was under better circumstances,” Clarke replied, her voice soft. “It’s nice to meet you, too. I’m sorry about James.”
“He’s strong,” Mom replied, squeezing Clarke’s hand before letting go. “He’ll get through it.”
I reached and put a hand on Mom’s shoulder before plopping down in my seat next to her. I didn’t say anything, unsure of what I could say, and instead rested my head on her shoulder. The four of us fell quiet. Soft conversations swirled around us. Other people waited in the ER while nurses talked about treatment plans and schedules. At one point, a gurney rushed past us, and the smell alone was almost enough to make me vomit.
A few minutes later, Raven and Miller arrived. Not together, but a few minutes apart, Miller tagging behind Raven. Miller’s class must have ended shortly after the text I sent. I moved to stand up, but they were already there, filling in the two empty seats in our cluster. Raven on the other side of Mom, Miller on the other side of Jasper, who sat across from us. I sipped my coffee, relieved Jasper had the foresight to get half-decaf.
Raven spoke first. “Where’s Murphy?”
My stomach knotted as Jasper and I exchanged a look. Mom’s gaze flickered over to me but before she could say anything, I stood up.
“I’ll call him,” I assured her, like I’d meant to do it all along.
There was no more delaying it. He should have been the first one I called, regardless of how I felt about him. He was James’ roommate, his best friend. In this universe, my feelings didn’t matter. And fuck, he was going to be so mad at me.
Clarke looked like she wanted to go with me but I shook my head. This was something I needed to do alone.
I swallowed fire in my throat and headed to a nearby hallway, slightly adjacent to the ER waiting room. From here, I could see other people waiting for news on their loved ones, too. Our group was one of the bigger ones here. An old man sat alone in the corner, reading the newspaper. My heart ached for him.
I took a shaky breath and pulled out my phone, scrolling until I found Murphy’s name in my contacts. I pushed the green phone icon and the phone started ringing immediately. No Facetime call this time, not like Thanksgiving. I didn’t think I could bear to see his face while I delivered the news.
The fact that he would be rightfully angry at me for not telling him sooner crossed my mind. Pressure tightened in my chest as the phone continued to ring. Twice more, then straight to voicemail.
This is Murphy. You know what to do.
I hung up. If a group text felt impersonal, so did a voicemail. But I couldn’t hold off telling him any longer, so I went to our message thread. Our last text was from a few days ago. Murphy asked if I wanted to join him for studying but I’d had a date with Clarke.
Me: something happened. i’m at the hospital with mom
Me: murphy, it’s james
On a second thought, I added:
Me: please come
Then I tucked my phone into the back pocket of my jeans and went back to the group. Raven glanced over at me, her face soft and eyes red. I knew I needed to be here for Mom, but right now, she was surrounded by good people. Our people. She was comfortable with Jasper and Raven, even Miller, though he wasn’t as frequent of a flyer at our house as the others.
My chest tightened at the sight of all of us there. At the thought of my brother, my other half, lying somewhere inside.
Panic clawed its way to my chest.
I had to get out. Mom would understand.
As I made my way towards the front entrance, my hands dug into my jacket pockets for a pack of cigarettes. There would be no hiding this from Mom – or Clarke – but right now, I could handle her disappointment as long as the nicotine kept me from losing my goddamn mind.
Thankfully, no one stopped me. Not Mom or Clarke or even Raven. The sliding doors to the hospital entrance opened automatically and I walked out into the cold December air. Finals were due to begin in a week and I didn’t know how I was supposed to continue functioning while my brother lay somewhere inside. I stepped around the corner, knowing I wouldn’t be able to smoke near the entrance, and found a secluded spot near some trees. I pulled out the cigarette I found earlier and lit up, taking a slow, deep breath before inhaling.
I walked out and walked around the corner to a secluded area. Tears pricked behind my eyes and I leaned against the cold hospital exterior wall and tried to remember how to breathe.
Please, I thought, not sure who I was asking. I’d never been particularly religious. We’d long since stopped going to church even for the holidays and I never really had a reason to pray before. I wasn’t exactly praying, either – more like pleading. Please don’t take him from me.
One cigarette wasn’t enough.
But it was all I would allow myself. I stomped it out and reached into my other pocket for some gum. I didn’t have anything else to mask the smell since I left in a hurry and wasn’t thinking about anything except getting to the hospital in time.
Taking a deep breath, I walked back towards the hospital entrance. I had no idea if anyone had arrived in my absence and paused as the doors slid open again. At least no one had come to find me in the almost ten minutes I’d been outside. At least that meant there was no news on Jamie’s condition.
And maybe, for once, no news was good news.
I headed inside and made my way back to the ER waiting room where my friends were gathered. Someone argued with the front desk receptionist. My eyes snapped over, half expecting it to be Kane, but it wasn’t. It was a stranger. I took another deep breath as I located my group. Clarke glanced over at me, a subtle Are you okay? on her face. I still couldn’t believe she was here. That she could be so strong and steady while my world fell apart around me. I nodded once, planning on making my way back over to her.
Something stopped me from going directly into my girlfriend’s arms.
Two new arrivals stood with their backs to me, talking to Mom. One of them was a girl with long black hair, clutching car keys in her hands. The girl from the bar, the one who caused Murphy to smile so big it brightened his eyes. Something uncomfortable shifted in my stomach at the sight of her. At her talking to my mom. Was she the reason he didn’t pick up his phone? Were they back together?
I tried to shake it off as I focused on the other person. He was a bit taller than her, standing close by but not touching her. And I would recognize those broad shoulders and short dark hair anywhere. He wore his standard leather jacket and black jeans and he was speaking to my mom, asking about James.
John Murphy. My brother’s best friend. My ex… Murphy.
He was late (because of me) – but was here. Exactly where I needed him.
“Johnny,” I breathed, my voice catching in my throat. My nickname for him when I was too drunk or too turned on to think straight. I cringed when I realized I said it outloud but he turned, not correcting me for once. If he was angry because he was the last one here, he didn’t show it on his face. Instead, his eyes softened when he saw me.
Behind him, Clarke glanced between us, but she didn’t stand to interrupt. She just watched, her expression unreadable – too carefully blank to be nothing at all. Still, she seemed to recognize that at that moment, I needed Murphy.
And she let me need him.
“Rhodes,” he replied, his own voice low and rough with an emotion I couldn’t place.
Everyone else faded from existence.
A silent understanding passed between us as we walked straight for each other. We collided somewhere in the middle and he didn’t comment about the cigarette smoke. He didn’t notice at all. We wrapped our arms around each other, mine circling his waist and his around my back, pulling me in tightly. His coffee and nicotine scent washed over me in comfort. I buried my face in his chest. He tucked my head under his chin, resting a hand on the nape of my neck.
Neither of us said a word.
Nothing else mattered.
All that mattered was that he was here.
And I was no longer alone.
Chapter 16: remember when we hit the breaks too soon
Chapter Text
Murphy didn’t know what the fuck was going on in his life anymore. He’d thoroughly enjoyed the two hour long Facetime call with Emma over Thanksgiving; it was the longest they talked in forever. It felt like they were friends again, no emotionally charged subtext bubbling behind the conversation. If anything, it convinced him he’d made the right call by telling her to choose Clarke. Sure, it hurt a little to see them together, but Emma was happy. And that was the most important thing.
Then there was Emori Oliveira, back from living with her dad out west for the last three years. They had kept in touch in the beginning, but on top of the breakup, being long distance friends hadn’t worked out. It wasn’t Murphy’s style and it was too complicated.
Now, she was here. Living in Arkadia. She worked for Eligius, an up and coming tech company and she was one of the software developers which meant she could work remotely anywhere she chose. And she had wanted to move home.
Not for Murphy, she claimed. Her mom was getting older and she wanted to spend some time with her, hating the lost years from being across the country.
Still… she was here. And it was kind of… nice. Familiar in a way he hadn’t realized he’d missed. Maybe a little dangerous, too.
He forgot how easily they got along. The yin to his yang; two outsiders who never really belonged to any particular group in high school who naturally found their way to each other. In middle school, she’d stolen his calculator in math class and to this day, he had no idea where she’d hid it. He’d decided she was exactly the kind of person he wanted in his life. A fast-thinker and someone who was comfortable in her own skin; and so many people in middle school weren’t. Including him.
Growing up, she was his closest friend. His only friend.
They fell in love in high school, sharing similar schedules and their love for art. Sometimes, she would come over and play videogames with him or pose for his art assignments, although those typically happened more in their last semester of senior year.
Then her parents got divorced and she moved away, out West to be with her dad.
And Murphy was, once again, alone. At least before that fateful day on a rooftop in September of freshman year, when some strange girl bummed a cigarette off of him instead of asking for his name.
Now Emori was back. Sitting across from him at a table by the window of the off-campus cafe, her long fingers tapping idly against her Sytrofoam cup. Her black, pin-straight hair fell over her shoulders, striking against the bright red sweater she wore. The same table they used to crash in after school, back when they ordered milkshakes instead of coffee and played cards until Mrs. Oliveira picked them up on the days Murphy’s mom worked at the hospital.
They had caught up the same weekend she’d come striding back into town and been hanging out regularly since. His mom, of course, was thrilled that Emori was back, but when she asked what happened with Emma, Murphy insisted they were still friends. Because they were.
Even if his mom was skeptical about it, it wasn’t any of her business.
“Is it weird being back?” Murphy asked.
Soft indie music played through the overhead speakers, filling the silence between them. Jaha’s Cafe was relatively empty, but then again, it was mid-afternoon on a Thursday. Freshly brewed dark roast and baked sugar wafted through the air, comforting and familiar in a way that made Murphy’s shoulders unclench without him noticing. A couple of students huddled in the corner with laptops, but otherwise the place felt like it always had – a little too warm, a little too quiet, as if time itself slowed down inside. His own schedule finished early on Thursdays with only two morning classes and since Emori worked remotely, as long as she answered her phone when work called, she was fine.
“A little,” she admitted with a shrug. “A lot’s changed since high school.”
She glanced at him then, as if suggesting he was the thing that changed the most. He didn’t think he’d changed that much. Maybe slightly sharper edges, but he had more friends than he had in high school and that was mostly thanks to James. Being assigned his roommate freshman year really had changed the course of his college lifestyle. And James, ever the golden retriever type, had let Murphy into his own circle of friends – and by default, his sister, too.
“I dunno, I don’t think a lot has changed,” he argued. “For instance, this cafe is the same. Maybe with laminated menus.”
Emori snorted and he smiled. At least he could still make her laugh.
“So we’ve talked enough about me,” she said in that matter-of-fact way that Murphy had fallen in love with. And they had – most of their conversations since she’d waltzed back into his life had been about her and Eligius, the small but supportive group of friends she had, and what her mom was up to. As usual, Murphy skillfully avoided any conversation about himself whenever Emori pressed him for questions. “You gonna keep pretending like you’re not obsessed with that girl?”
Murphy’s face remained passive. “What girl?”
“Don’t insult me,” she replied, rolling her eyes as she covered her Styrofoam cup with both of her hands. A hot latte because, like most normal people, she drank warm beverages as the temperature outside grew colder. Unlike some girl he knew. “That girl who’s always tagging you in Instagram posts. And was flirting with you at The Dropship the last time I was there? She didn’t seem too happy when you brushed her off. Not to mention the fact that you didn’t bother to introduce me.”
“She doesn’t count,” he said dismissively. “That’s Emma. James’ sister.”
“Mhm,” she replied. “The John Murphy I know posts to Instagram three times in just as many years and the last photo of himself on there is of us at high school graduation.”
“And?”
“ And she obviously means something to you. I could tell.”
He didn’t flinch, but something unfamiliar twisted in his chest. He hated how easy she made it sound – and worse, she didn’t seem bothered by it.
“From that one interaction at The Dropship? Where I work ? And therefore have to be nice to customers in order to get a good tip?”
“Jonathan.”
Murphy scowled. She laughed, loud and unapologetic, and it was enough of a disruption that the students in the corner lifted their heads from their laptops for a brief moment. Emori calling him Jonathan was worse than Emma calling him Johnny when she was drunk.
He still didn’t answer.
“Well, you were always good at falling for people you weren’t supposed to,” she said with a knowing smirk. She waved her hand, the sleeve of her sweater riding up and exposing some of her brown skin, hinting at the small crescent moon tattoo on her wrist. “Whatever. Did you ever decide on a major? Or are you still planning on opening your own tattoo shop?”
Murphy took a sip of his coffee – starting to grow lukewarm from the conversation – and tried not to curl his lip at the taste. If he were in his apartment, he’d simply pop it into the microwave for a few seconds, but instead, he was at the cafe. Admitting to microwaving his coffee would likely get him banned from the establishment.
“Well, actually, I’m–” he started. He planned to tell Emori about his psych degree, that James was the one to push him to take his classes more seriously, but his phone interrupted him. Emma’s face popped up on the screen, a wide grin and the name Rhodes the Second labeling her.
It rang twice.
Emori glanced at him, then at the phone, then raised a questioning brow. Leave it to Emma to only call after he’d been unsuccessfully trying to convince his ex-girlfriend he wasn’t obsessed with the situationship he was supposed to have moved on from.
On the third ring, Murphy clicked off his screen.
“--I’m going to get my psych degree,” he finished with significantly less fanfare.
She smiled. “That’s great,” she replied, a warmth in her voice that always made his shoulders uncoil. Friendly and comfortable. Supportive and grounding. “What kind of psych?”
Murphy tried not to think about how unusual it was for Emma to call him. With the exception of Thanksgiving, where they Facetimed for nearly two hours, they were texting friends. At this time of day, she was likely in the music studio, blocking out the world.
There was no voicemail notification. Why did she call him?
“I want to–” he continued as his phone lit up. Once, twice, then three times. He met Emori’s gaze, his own soft and apologetic. She dismissed him with a wave.
“Go ahead,” she replied in a bored tone, holding back a smirk.
He rolled his eyes even as dread filled his stomach. Murphy fumbled with his phone for a moment before picking it up and swiping up to his messages. Three texts from Emma, all within the last five minutes.
Rhodes the Second: something happened. i’m at the hospital with mom
Rhodes the Second: murphy, it’s james
Rhodes the Second: please come
Murphy stared at his phone screen, frozen, as if that would make the messages change. The coffee shop seemed to fade away and he barely registered Emori across from him. His throat thickened and his stomach churned as the morning’s events blurred in his mind.
Did he see James this morning?
Briefly, in the kitchen, grabbing a cup of coffee and telling him that he was going to make dinner that night for them. It wasn’t lost on Murphy that it was the first home cooked meal that James offered to make since the punch over Emma but roommate nights were still important. And Murphy sure as hell wasn’t going to turn down a James Rhodes meal.
(Raven claimed his cooking was better, but Murphy would never tell James that.)
“John.” Emori’s voice cut through the buzz in his head. “What’s wrong?”
He was halfway out of his seat, his fingers clutching motorcycle keys. Murphy swallowed, trying to breathe.
“I–have to go,” he managed. He cleared his throat. “To the hospital. Something–something happened. Rh–Emma–she needs me–”
He could barely get the words out. It was as if time itself stopped and everyone else was moving around him.
Murphy didn’t know why he was surprised when Emori jumped up, no judgement on her face or snark in her voice. Not like there’d been before.
“Then let’s go. I’m driving,” she said, her voice leaving no room for debate. Emori grabbed the keys to his motorcycle out of his hand without much difficulty.
Murphy followed after her, grateful as she led the way through the cafe, leaving their cups behind. He didn’t say anything in response, the panic clawing its way through his chest.
“Tell her you’re on your way,” Emori replied as they stepped outside. The sky was blue and cloudless and Murphy blinked, his eyes adjusting to the sun shining above them. It was cold, cold enough to leave patches of ice on the sidewalk as they walked.
Emori almost slipped as they walked to the parking lot where his bike sat, but she straightened herself up with very little effort. Murphy normally didn’t let other people drive his bike and he didn’t even want to ask if Emori had her motorcycle license.
Right now, all that mattered was getting to Mount Weather. Getting to Emma.
He pulled out his phone and swiped up to their text thread.
Me: on my way
Murphy slipped the motorcycle helmet over his head, mounted the bike behind Emori, his arms wrapping tightly around her waist.
She started the bike like a pro, kicking the kickstand and turning the ignition on. As the engine roared to life and they peeled out of the parking lot, all Murphy could think about was getting to the hospital in time.
And pray he wasn’t too late.
The fluorescent lights hit him first. They were too bright, too sterile, as if they were trying to scrub the air clean of panic. Next, the smell of antiseptic filled his nose as Murphy remembered to breathe through his nose, Emori standing beside him.
Hospitals didn’t bother him. As a kid, he spent a lot of time in and out of them, before and after school on days his mom worked long hours. When he hit middle school, he was able to stay home by himself for longer stretches of time, watching television or playing on his skateboard. Typically, he didn’t notice the lights or the smells or the sounds of nurses talking, didn’t notice the wheels of a gurney squeaking through the doors.
But then, typically, he wasn’t here because something happened to his best friend.
Emori reached down, her fingers lacing through his briefly and squeezing them. The touch grounded him and Murphy took a steadying breath, his eyes searching the waiting room of the ER.
She wasn’t here.
Raven, Jasper, Clarke, Miller – they were all here. Jasper was here before him, sitting in Murphy’s spot next to Mama Rhodes.
And she wasn’t here.
She called him… last?
White hot anger swelled through his chest but he pushed it to the side. Now wasn’t the time for him to be angry with her. Now was the time to be there for her.
She still called him. That was what mattered.
Where was she?
A different sort of panic clawed through his chest but he ignored that, too. He walked towards the crowd, letting go of Emori’s hand. Even though Murphy knew who she was, the only other person who knew was Raven.
And how could Emori even be a threat when Emma was the one who called it off?
Raven stood as he approached, her expression unreadable except for a crease in her forehead. She was probably the only other person who needed him more than Emma.
Without a word, they embraced each other at the same time. Quickly, but enough for Murphy to give her a squeeze, to let her know that he was there for her, too. She wiped her face as they pulled back and she seemed to register Emori.
“Hey,” Raven greeted, clearing her throat and sticking out her hand. “I’m Raven.”
An easy way to introduce her to the group. Murphy shot Raven a grateful expression.
“I’m Emori,” she replied, taking Raven’s hand but addressing the group at large. “A friend of John’s.”
Beside Mama Rhodes, Jasper snorted but otherwise didn’t comment. Clarke, who sat next to Jasper, glanced over at him with a raised brow, but didn’t ask questions.
Murphy recalled all too well that walk back to the apartments on Halloween weekend, him trying to lead a drunken, swaggering Jasper dressed as Captain Jack Sparrow.
“I know you’re in love with her,” he’d said, slurring his words slightly. “If you hurt her again, I will kill you.”
Murphy, unfortunately relatively sober, glanced at him disbelievingly. “Will you?”
“I’ll have James do it.”
Murphy didn’t mention the fact that, by then, Emma had already walked away. That she had chosen Clarke. Jasper didn’t seem inclined to discuss timeline details and almost walked into the middle of the street, causing Murphy to follow after him and pull him back with the group.
A twinge of pain hit his chest at the thought of James and Murphy turned to Mama Rhodes. When she saw him, she stood up, pulling him into a hug. Murphy hugged her back, his chin resting against her shoulder for a brief moment.
“We don’t know much,” she said in his ear. “He’s still in surgery.”
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, because he didn’t know what else to say. Because nothing else felt right.
Mama Rhodes squeezed him one more time before taking a step back. Her dark brown eyes shined and for a moment, he was struck by the fact that she had the same eyes as Emma. Hell, standing this close to her now, Murphy got a glimpse of what Emma would look like in a few years. Aside from the streaks of grey in Mama Rhodes’ hair, Emma was the spitting image of her mother.
Murphy took a step back and pushed the thought away.
Emma chose Clarke. Clarke, who was sitting next to Jasper and studying him – and Emori – carefully. She was poised, nearly perfect, not a blonde hair out of place. And she was pretty. She wore a blue sweater and a pair of dark jeans that somehow looked comfortable and put together all at once.
Murphy somehow felt underdressed in his black jeans, black long sleeve shirt, and motorcycle jacket. For the fucking hospital.
“She stepped outside,” Clarke remarked as silence filled the air. “She should be back in a few minutes.”
Murphy didn’t show the surprise on his face when he realized Clarke was addressing him and talking about Emma . He raked a hand through his hair and turned toward the hospital sliding doors. He vaguely wondered if she’d stepped outside for a cigarette and if she would yell at him for following her.
“Thank you for coming.”
Clarke again. As if she needed to remind him that she was the better choice.
He turned his attention to her and nodded. “Of course,” he said. “James is–he’s my best friend.”
Mama Rhodes reached over and squeezed his hand. “He’ll make it through.”
Murphy nodded. Right now, it was easier to focus on Emma and what she needed from him than to think about James. James, his best friend since freshman year, the golden retriever of the group. Always with a smile on his face or some crack to ease the tension. Not in a theatrical way like Jasper but in a more grounded way.
He thought he’d fucked things up for good when James found out Murphy was sleeping with his sister. But thankfully, all it took was a single punch from him and a halfhearted conversation and all was well.
It probably helped that things were over before they started.
James was also the one who had pushed him to take school more seriously, to not laugh at his ambition to help the more ‘troubled’ kids like himself.
He had to make it through.
He shouldn’t be lying on a cold surgical table somewhere, being sliced open and operated on. He should be back at the apartment, getting ready to make dinner for them.
Murphy swallowed, not realizing he was digging his nails into the palm of his skin until he felt a tiny spec of blood. He released his hand and wiped it on his jeans as the doors slid open.
And there she was. Standing there in jeans and a baggy hoodie. Her hair was pulled into a messy ponytail, a few pieces of her dark brown hair sticking out. Emma’s nose was red from the cold December air and he couldn’t ignore the pinch in his chest when she looked at him.
“Johnny.” Her voice cracked on the second syllabul. He realized it was the first time he heard her call him that when she wasn’t drunk, when her lips weren’t near his ear and swollen from his kiss.
His world seemed to crack open as they crossed the hospital waiting room toward each other, everyone else fading into the background.
He didn’t think.
He didn’t care.
Murphy wrapped his arms around her and she wrapped hers around his shoulders. She buried her face in his chest and he pulled her solidly against him. He could smell the nicotine from her last cigarette and her lavender shampoo as Murphy’s nose buried in her neck.
For just a moment, the world stopped. And nothing else mattered.
“It’s okay,” he whispered, running his hand soothingly up and down her back. “I’m here. I’ve got you.”
Tears leaked onto his shoulder, onto the leather of his jacket, but he didn’t care about that either.
“What if-”
“Shh,” he said softly, rocking her gently. “We don’t talk like that.”
She swallowed and pulled back enough to look at him. Her eyes shined as tears rolled down her cheeks, the mascara following in thin black lines. Without thinking, he reached up, his thumb gently brushing against it to help clean it up.
She was still the most beautiful girl in the room.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” Emma whispered. “I’m sorry-”
Murphy was about to respond and assure her she didn’t need to apologize – despite the slight anger he still felt at being called last – when the doors to the hospital slid open again. A burst of frigid air came through and in walked Marcus Kane, in a fucking suit and tie, his hair gelled back. Unlike Mama Rhodes, the only resemblance Kane had to his daughter was in his hair color and jawline.
“Emmaline,” Kane greeted, his voice colder than it ought to be, given the circumstances.
Emma tensed in Murphy’s arms and he stood up straighter, taking a step closer to Kane and putting himself between the two of them. The scrape of a chair brought the rest of the waiting room back into focus as Mama Rhodes stood as her husband arrived.
“What are you doing here?” Jasper demanded from somewhere behind him. Disdain was evident in his tone, something cold and unforgiving that could only belong to Emma’s best friend. “No one wants you here.”
“Jasper-” Mama Rhodes began.
Kane and Emma didn’t take their eyes off of each other. Murphy didn’t move, locking his position, even as Kane walked further into the hospital and therefore closer to Emma. Kane’s dark eyes flickered behind Murphy’s shoulder to where the others were sitting.
“I have a right to be here,” Kane replied. “I’m his father.”
“You’re hers, too,” Murphy said, the words flying out of his mouth before he could think them through.
“Murphy,” Emma chided, her voice guarded again. Hard but not cold. No longer Johnny , but Murphy, a distinction he felt deep in his bones. “It’s fine.”
Murphy glanced between the two of them before stepping away. Whatever crack had opened between them sealed shut again, and he thought, at least for the time being, it was better that way. He adjusted his jacket and when he turned to walk back towards the group, Clarke raised a questioning brow at him. He shook his head and a silent understanding seemed to pass between the two of them.
“Marcus,” Mama Rhodes greeted, the slightest bit of warmth in her tone. “Come with me. Let’s see if we can get an update on James.”
Kane’s gaze was still trained on Emma, a little uncertain. “These are your friends?”
“His, too,” Emma replied.
Murphy hid his smile as he sat down next to Raven. He glanced over at Emma again, but she had already turned her back on her father and was heading towards them. When she took her spot next to Clarke and Clarke took her hand, Murphy looked away.
Kane disappeared with his wife in search of an update on their son.
Emori sat down on Murphy’s other side, gently taking his hand in hers and squeezing. She didn’t say anything and her silence was the biggest comfort she could offer him. He embraced it, careful not to lean into her too much but hoped that knowing she was there to catch him would be enough.
He didn’t look back at Emma. Not now, not when she had her girlfriend and her best friend to lean on. But he could be there – from a distance. It had to be enough that she knew he was there if she needed him.
Now, though, with the seven of them seated in the hard plastic chairs of the ER waiting room in Mount Weather Hospital, all they could do was wait. And pray that James weathered the storm.
Because he was strong enough to survive the fall.
He had to be.
Chapter 17: aim for my heart, go for blood
Chapter Text
I was still holding James’ hand when the sun came up and the world collapsed.
The nurses tried to get me to leave his hospital room, insisting that I needed sleep, but I refused. I wasn’t going anywhere without him – without my brother. Even the doctor came in and tried to tell me there was nothing I could do for him and that I should get some rest, but eventually, they stopped trying. I vaguely wondered if Mrs. Murphy had anything to do with it or if I’d simply been too stubborn to leave my twin alone.
He’d been driving to the grocery store to pick up supplies for a dinner he was making for Murphy. A sharp turn. A guardrail. Black ice. No other car, no pedestrian – no one to blame. Just James, alone in the car, taking the turn just fast enough that the tires lost their grip on the invisible ice beneath them.
I knew that turn. I hated it almost as much as I hated that one intersection coming back to school from home. The one where we’d almost gotten into an accident because an idiot ran a red light. We’d pulled over into a parking lot; Taylor Swift was blasting through the speakers when James glanced at me.
“Thanks for not dying,” I’d said.
I couldn’t say that now. Not anymore.
The doctors had already come through when his machine beeped loudly overnight, signaling something was wrong. His lung collapsed – or something like that. All I’d been able to do was watch as they tried everything they could to resurrect my brother.
They didn’t try hard enough.
A scream ripped through the room and it took me a minute to realize that it had come from me when they announced his time of death. 4:05AM. Complications from surgery.
Or something like that. It didn’t really matter in the end.
Still, I refused to budge, not leaving the cold, plastic seat in the hospital room overnight. Even as James’ hand grew cold and even when the nurses had to gently pull me from the chair. As they covered my brother’s body with a white sheet, he suddenly looked like every corpse I’d ever seen in the movies – except this wasn’t fiction.
Panic gripped my chest. One of the nurses had to calm me down.
Now, I stood numbly at the edge of the waiting room, looking through the glass of the sliding door like a ghost who didn’t belong. Everything on the other side felt too bright, too loud, too alive. Like it didn’t know someone had died. Like it didn’t know the other half of my soul no longer existed.
Somehow, finally, I stepped through the glass and into that world. Mom was sitting in the corner, her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands. Sobbing. Kane was, surprisingly, right next to her. As if he was father of the fucking year, slipping right into the role of dad. Mom didn’t seem to mind the comfort, though, and I swallowed the clogged acid in my throat to push away the rage.
At first, no one saw me. And then, slowly, everyone’s heads turned until everyone was looking at me and they seemed just as shell shocked as I felt. Like nothing and everything was real. Like it was all just some cosmic joke, like I had slipped into an alternate universe.
Murphy stood up first, his face pale and his eyes wide. Clarke followed suit, her expression soft and tender.
Neither of them moved, as if waiting for permission.
Raven spared me the choice. She was the first to move. Tears strained behind her eyes and I didn’t know if she was there to comfort me or if she wanted me to comfort her, but either way, we met each other in the middle. And we clung to each other, her arms around my shoulders and mine around her waist, my face buried in her neck.
“I’m so sorry,” I sobbed, clutching onto her tighter.
Because everyone knew I loved James and he loved me. Everyone might have known Raven and James loved each other. But it was never spoken, never confessed. Maybe that was the real tragedy.
“Me, too,” she whispered, her own voice choked.
I wasn’t sure how long we stood like that, sobbing in each other’s arms, the noise and the light of the hospital blurring around the edges. At some point, a third pair of arms stretched around us, enveloping us in safety, and I didn’t need to look up to know that it was Jasper.
We clung onto each other, the three of us, for what felt like eternity and not nearly long enough.
And all I could think about was how nothing would ever be the same again.
“James would hate this,” I started, my voice echoing through the funeral home.
A low ripple of laughter rose softly across the room. Everything about this was too stiff – too formal, too bright, too downright wrong. James will hate this. He–
I couldn’t think about my brother in past tense even as he lay behind me. The coffin was cracked just enough to show the suit and tie he’d never choose for himself. Obviously Kane had given instructions on how to dress him for today. For his… funeral.
Somehow, I knew James was watching. Maybe not from the coffin, but from wherever he was. I wasn’t sure what I believed anymore.
“He hates–hated being dressed up. Suits and ties were too much for him. And despite popular belief, he always hated being the center of attention. Which of course, as most of you know, is hilarious,” I continued. Something sharp lodged in my throat but I had to keep going anyway. “What he did love was his friends. His people. He loved… me. And I know this not just because he’s told me, but because of the things he does. Like breaking into my apartment on our birthday for a shot of whiskey at midnight even though we lived a few floors away from each other.”
Another bit of laughter and I swore I caught the ghost of a smile on Mom’s face. I hadn’t told her that story last time we were home. When she’d asked how our birthday was, I’d simply said that Jasper threw the best parties. She didn’t need to know that I had gotten so drunk I ended things with Murphy twice because I didn’t remember the first time. Or that I had gotten so drunk I sobbed on the bathroom floor for an hour because I’d had a dream where Murphy confessed his feelings for me only to realize it wasn’t real.
I shook myself out of my head and glanced at Jasper and Raven, who had been the accomplices behind the plan. Jasper gave me a small smile of encouragement and Raven nodded her head. As if that was the permission I needed, I allowed myself a moment to swallow, to breathe. The eulogy blurred on my screen but I kept reading anyway.
This was just another performance. A different stage. I had spoken and acted in front of hundreds of crowds before.
And yet… nothing about this was right.
“We always used to joke that when our time came, he would go before me, just like he liked to say he was a few minutes older than me. Which I guess… in the end, is true, even though I know neither of us expected it to go this way.”
Silence fell. From my spot at the podium, I spotted Mom and Kane in the front aisle. Sergeant Blake was next to Mom, holding her hand. The others – my friends, James’ people – were in the row behind them, all looking at me with mixed expressions. Raven, Jasper, Miller, Murphy, and Clarke. If Emori was here, she wasn’t sitting with Murphy but somewhere in the back where I couldn’t see her.
My Polis crew was here too. I shouldn’t have been surprised, but I was touched. They all knew and loved James in their own way even if he didn’t hang out with us often. Maya, Sam, and Nick sat together behind Jasper and hugged me when they came in, their comfort and sorrow filling me with static. Octavia sat with her mom and her brother, and she clung to me the longest, reminding me that she was ready with the getaway car at any time. I would have laughed if I had felt anything.
I swallowed and looked back at my phone.
“What happened to my brother was a tragedy, but tragedies happen every day. And there’s a very large part of me that knows that. And I know that he would want me – us – to keep living. To keep moving forward. Because that was James. He was more than the Golden Boy or the straight-A student, more than the captain of the soccer and debate teams. He was full of life. And if he was here right now, he would tell us to shake it off.
“Another part of me knows this isn’t fair. None of it is. He was supposed to graduate with us. Keep inspiring us. Keep living. So that’s what I’m going to do. For my brother. If he can’t be here with me, I’ll live for both of us. And I encourage everyone here to do the same.”
At this, Murphy and I made eye contact. I hadn’t spoken to him much since the hospital. There was a part of me that wanted to go to him and comfort him, knowing what he lost. But he hadn’t approached me either, as if he knew that maybe it was better for us to keep some distance.
At least for now. Even if it killed me.
I cleared my throat, focusing back on my phone. I clicked on the screen; it had timed out while Murphy and I exchanged glances. Only a few sentences left.
Just a few more words and I could run from this hell.
“Thank you all for coming. James would’ve hated this, but he loved all of you.”
When it was all over–when the words from my speech were finally done–I stepped down from the podium, phone in hand. As I walked away, I ignored the looks of pity from everyone in the wooden folded chairs the funeral home provided.
And I didn’t look back. I just needed to breathe.
Outside, the air was bitingly cold. I wore a short black dress that hit mid-thigh, paired with black tights and pumps. I’d left my jacket and gloves inside and couldn’t bring myself to go back in. My hair was twisted into a careful braid, pulled back from my face. I’d taken my time getting ready this morning, as if stalling could stop reality from sinking in.
A light layer of snow sprinkled the lawn of the funeral home, a grey sky stretching overhead. At least the universe wasn’t mocking me with sunshine. It seemed to understand it had lost someone monumental, too. I wasn’t alone in that, at least.
Even if everything else made me feel like I was.
James and I didn’t always get along when we were kids. I was too loud, laughed too much, never took anything as seriously as he did. It wasn’t until high school that he began to loosen up, to let himself relax and fall more into himself. Into the version of him I described in my eulogy.
Into the person I looked up to. (Not that I’d ever told him that.)
The person I never thought I’d have to live without.
Maybe from a distance, sure – but not like this.
I never imagined… this.
None of it was fair.
Anger rose in my chest. I wanted to scream, to let it all out – but the service was still going on inside. Mom and Kane figured out the order of things. I hadn’t planned to speak, just numbly agreed.
Mom wouldn’t be able to. Kane didn’t deserve to.
It was enough that he was here, I supposed. For now.
I reached into my pocket for my pack of cigarettes, the nearly empty one I’d had since the hospital a few days ago. My lighter was buried deep in the fabric lining; I knew it would pay off to slip this into my dress pocket rather than my jacket or purse. Easier to access in a moment like this. My heart wanted to claw out of my chest and sobbing felt inevitable.
There hadn’t been time for any of that shit. Not when I had to be strong for Mom.
With shaky hands, I lit the cigarette, shielding the flame from the wind.
The first inhale burned a bit, but on the release, the tension in my shoulders uncoiled.
“That shit’ll kill you, you know.”
I didn’t have to look up to know that it was Bellamy. I’d spotted him almost immediately when the service began, sitting towards the back. Tall and still devastatingly handsome in a suit and tie. Even though he’d asked me to be friends last month and I was the one to walk away from him. He was still… here. Checking on me. Like he used to.
As if James’ old high school best friend would’ve missed this. As if his mother would let him.
Even if he was the most significant ex I’d ever had.
Which is why I was somehow both shocked and not surprised that he was the one to follow me. To even know that I left.
“Maybe that’s the point now,” I shot back, taking another drag.
The door to the funeral home shut as Bellamy came to stand beside me. Close enough that I could smell his pine and mint scent but not so close that our shoulders brushed. As if he remembered our last interaction all too well. A small part of me felt bad about it, but given our history… maybe, at least at the time, it had been earned.
I wondered what Jamie would say if he saw us standing here now. I wondered if he could see us.
“Emma, I’m–”
I exhaled again, letting the smoke drift away in the wind. “I know,” I said, saving him from having to say the dreaded words. “Me, too.”
Because I was. Because before me, he and James were friends. Him and James and me and Octavia. She was a few years younger than us, but the two of us always stuck together when the families hung out.
Then he’d left me immediately after graduation and everything changed.
Some of the guilt found its way out of my mouth before I had the chance to think it through. “Bellamy, if you need–”
Someone? A friend? Someone who knew James?
Thankfully, he saved me the trouble of finding the right words. Like he used to.
“I know,” he promised, nodding his head once. “You, too.”
I nodded, the sobs threatening to escape again. Somehow, I managed to keep them in, pushing them back down my throat with another drag. On the exhale, the smoke drifted between us, carried off by the wind.
I didn’t say anything else. Neither did he.
There wasn’t anything left for either of us to say.
After a while, I dropped the cigarette after the third drag, crushing it into the snow with the heel of my shoe.
“I should get back inside,” I said, even though I didn’t move.
Bellamy didn’t press. Just nodded, like he understood.
Maybe he did. And maybe that was enough.
The Dropship was packed. I should’ve been surprised, but a lot of the crowd was students. And it was the last weekend before finals week started. So even though it was Monday night, conversations and laughter from mundane, everyday life drained out any kind of conscious thought I had.
There had been a small gathering of James’ closest friends and family after the burial. Just me, Mom, Kane, the Blakes (including Octavia), Clarke, Murphy, Jasper, and Raven. Someone had sandwiches catered to the apartment.
Eventually, Mom and Kane left. It hadn’t felt right to hold the funeral back home – James’s life was here now. So we used a small funeral home in town, then came back to my apartment for sandwiches and silence. I couldn’t bring myself to walk into his, and I doubted Murphy wanted to either.
Murphy hugged me before he left. I wasn’t sure if the hug was more for me or for him, but I let him hold on for as long as he needed to. I’d almost invited him to stay so that he didn’t have to be alone in the apartment he shared with James, but he said he had plans with Miller. Jasper had gone off to check in with Monty and Harper afterwards and Clarke had studying to do – though I think she knew that Raven and I needed some time by ourselves.
Somehow, it didn’t feel right without Murphy here. Without Jamie.
I thought back to Raven’s birthday, the last time the four of us had hung out together. It was only a few months ago, back in September, but somehow it felt like a lifetime ago.
Everything felt like a lifetime ago.
Nothing felt real. Least of all me.
“Rum and Coke,” Raven announced, placing my drink of choice in front of me. “Echo made it a double. She sends her condolences. Drinks on the house tonight.”
I nodded as Raven sat in the booth across from me. She’d offered to get the drinks for us, knowing that I would be stopped by all of the bartenders. Telling me how great James was. How it didn’t feel real that he was gone – he’d been here just the weekend before.
I didn’t want to hear the stories. Even though part of why we had come to The Dropship at all was because it was our bar. Our favorite place.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, Jamie’s laughter riddled in my head.
“You think we can hustle those guys?” he asked, leaning against the pool cue and jutting his chin toward the group of frat boys huddled in the corner.
I smirked at him. “I’d be embarrassed if we didn’t.”
He tossed me a cue and beamed at me. “Then let’s do it.”
Those fragmented memories had started at the hospital, ghosts of my brother leaving imprints on my mind.
I took a long sip from my glass, neglecting the straw. The glass sweat on the table. Some part of me – the part that still remembered how to be a person – lifted my phone and snapped a picture of it on Snapchat.
cheers, i guess was all I wrote.
I sent it to Murphy. Then to Clarke.
As if the worst thing I had to worry about was my music history exam tomorrow.
I’d already emailed my advisor and professor about it in some kind of haze yesterday afternoon. They’d gotten back to me immediately – kindly – telling me not to worry about school. That I could figure out the rest later.
Jamie wouldn’t have to figure out the rest later.
“So,” Raven continued, forcing my focus back to the present.
I arched a brow at her. “So.”
“How about a toast,” Raven began, her own voice a little raw. She cleared her throat and raised her glass and waited. A bit reluctantly, I raised mine, remembering the vow in my eulogy. “To the idiot man who swore he could fix our bathroom shower head last year and ended up flooding out the whole thing instead.”
Somehow, my lips twitched into a half-smile. “Because he swore it was a ‘quick fix’ any idiot could do,” I continued.
“You made him apologize to the whole floor.”
“I did. And he did. And it was fucking worth it.”
We clinked our glasses together and each took a long sip. The alcohol burned my throat but it somehow grounded me, reminding me where I was. That I wasn’t at the hospital anymore or the graveyard or in the car next to James. I was safe at The Dropship with Raven.
Raven, who likely felt his loss on a completely other level than I did.
“Raven,” I started, clearing my throat. Because if I didn’t say it now I never would. “Jamie – he could be an idiot. But… he loved you. I know he was in love with you. And I am so fucking sorry he was too much of an idiot to tell you himself.”
I wanted to tell her that the pizza party had been his idea. That he always thought she deserved to celebrate herself even though she didn’t think she deserved it. Because of her mom.
God, why were parents always so fucked up?
“I think I knew,” she replied. There was something… off about her voice. A little distant, as if she was recalling a memory. “Or I was starting to. We kissed. Once.”
My eyes widened and I couldn’t stop my jaw from dropping. “I’m sorry, what?”
She waved her hand dismissively. “Halloween weekend. Remember how I didn’t come home? I was with James,” she replied. “I didn’t want to tell you because I knew he was your brother and you two had always been weird about that. But it was just a drunken kiss. No big confession of feelings. I knew we both wanted to prioritize school so we said it was just something that happened. Honestly, I’m not sure he even remembers. We were pretty hammered.”
Raven laughed but there were tears glistening in her eyes. I reached my hand out over the table, squeezing hers.
“He remembers,” I promised, my voice gentle.
While there was some bit of me that was mad neither of them told me, I also understood. There was always so much going on. Maybe it was just something they needed to keep to themselves.
It did also reframe my last real conversation with James – the one about Clarke, where I’d promised I’d make it work. Was he talking about himself and Raven then, too? Was I so wrapped up in my own drama and my own head that I didn’t realize what else was going on around me?
“I miss him,” Raven admitted, her voice softer than it was before. “It’s not fair.”
I squeezed her hand. “I know.” I paused before adding, “I miss him, too.”
It was the first time I’d said those words. The first time I let myself feel them. But fuck, did I feel them. For the last three days, I’d been walking around like a ghost, like I’d been missing something vital without even knowing how to carry it.
And something was.
“Fuck it, let’s get drunk,” Raven decided, knocking back the rest of her gin and tonic. “Shots?”
“If I play the dead brother card, how many free shots do you think I can get us?” I asked, trying not to wince at my own vocabulary.
Thankfully, Raven laughed, like I knew she would.
“We already have free shots tonight, babe. Whatever the hell we want.”
Not whatever the hell I want.
I drained half my glass at the thought. “Then make them tequila shots.”
Somewhere in the back of my brain, I heard James’ voice reminding me that I didn’t like tequila shots. That we’d had a whole conversation about it on my birthday.
I tried to slam that part of my brain shut. I didn’t want to think anymore. I just wanted to drink with my best friend.
Our other best friends should be here. But they were checking on their people, too.
“I’ll go get them,” Raven promised, standing up. She left her half drunk gin and tonic on the table and disappeared again. In the time she was gone, I finished off my Rum and Coke. I checked my phone, still half expecting to see a text or call or Instagram notification from James.
There was nothing.
Not even a response from Murphy or Clarke.
“Ta da!” Raven sang, approaching the table with a tray of tequila shots. She slid the black circular tray on the table. “Three rounds each of tequila shots. Courtesy of Echo.”
“I knew she was my favorite for a reason.”
“Right?” she agreed, grinning as she sat down again. She lined up the shots like a pro. Belatedly, I remembered to switch my camera to video – to record, like I used to. Like fractions of my normal self were fighting to push through the haze.
I took the first glass in the line and raised it to Raven. “Cheers, I guess.”
“Cheers, Em.”
And together, we downed the first – of what would be several – shots.
The shots went down easy, even as someone who didn’t like tequila. Raven only laughed the first time I scrunched up my face in disgust. By the time the third round was gone, we were both laughing. I wasn’t sure what we were laughing at, but it felt good. Like I hadn’t forgotten how to do that. Not yet.
Everything after that third round blurred into music and laughter and the soft glow of bar lights. Sweaty bodies on the dance floor. Eventually, though, the buzz began to fade. Someone bumped into me while Raven and I were dancing and something cold swept through me.
That was when I knew it was time to leave.
We stumbled into the crisp December night air after grabbing our jackets, both of ours matching black leather, mine with the important cigarette pack in the pocket. Raven’s arm looped through mine as we laughed about something I already couldn’t remember.
The cold hit first. Then the headlights.
I glanced at Raven, confused, a raw sense of panic gripping in my chest.
Jamie?
I squinted toward the car pulling up, hand instinctively rising to shield my eyes. The car door opened and a man stepped out, hunched shoulders and an annoyed look on his face.
“Johnny!” I blurted, hoping to mask my surprise. Maybe he came with James? My eyes widened in horror. “Fuck, I didn’t call you, did I?”
Before Murphy had the chance to respond, to wipe the annoyed expression off his face, another voice cut through the tension.
“No, babe.” Her voice was unmistakable, low and even, as she closed the driver’s door and stepped into the light. “You called me.”
Murphy’s jaw tightened. They’d arrived… together?
Heat rushed through my face. I managed a smile for my girlfriend – sweatpants, my hoodie, car keys still in hand – but it felt like I was two steps behind. She stood next to Murphy, several inches shorter than him. At least I called her. At least I did something right. Right?
“So what are you doing here?” I asked, the words out of my mouth before I could stop them. They were meant for Murphy, but I couldn’t keep my eyes off of the two of them together. Murphy, tall, dark hair, devastatingly handsome in jeans and a black hoodie. Clarke, shorter, gorgeous, blonde. Opposite in every way possible. Both of them made my heart and stomach churn uncomfortably.
“I called him,” Raven said, her voice cutting through the tequila-induced haze and reminding me that she was there. “I needed a ride.”
All of the humor from the night was gone. Now it was the four of us.
James nowhere in sight.
Because there was no more James.
I swallowed, something stinging in my eyes.
“You could’ve come with us,” Clarke replied. Her tone matched her body language – stiff, clearly uncomfortable. Something must’ve happened in the car. But what? I couldn’t even wrap my head around the fact that they’d arrived together. “Saved Murphy the trouble.”
Murphy looked directly at me. For the first time since the funeral. “It’s no trouble.”
Something inside of me threatened to crack open.
Raven cleared her throat. “Let’s go then, yeah?”
No one moved at first.
Then Raven let go of my arm and walked toward the car, her boots scuffing the gravel. She didn’t look back. I followed, slower, suddenly very aware of how unsteady my legs were.
Murphy stepped aside to let us pass. I could feel his eyes on me – maybe judging, maybe just tired, maybe just trying to make it through – but he didn’t say a word. Back to the reserved, almost coldly distant man I’d known.
Clarke noticed me wobble and was next to me in a heartbeat. Her arms wrapped around my waist.
“You okay, babe?” she asked softly.
I glanced up at her, pinching my thumb and index finger together. “Slightly. Because I’m drunk. And you’re here. You came for me.”
She gently squeezed my waist. “Of course. I’ll always come when you call me.”
Murphy opened the backseat door for Raven, glancing over at me and Clarke. Raven climbed in and Murphy went around the other side to get in behind the driver’s side.
Clarke opened the passenger side door for me and I climbed in, the alcohol rushing to my head as I settled in the seat. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and before I knew it, Clarke was in the driver’s seat, starting the engine.
Silence.
The air felt too thick. I tugged at the collar of my jacket and stared out at the window, the heat blasting from the vents. Clarke pulled onto the main road, music playing from her phone through the car speakers — an indie band I recognized but couldn’t place.
Raven and Murphy spoke in the backseat, their voices no louder than a murmur. I couldn’t hear what they were saying. It was obviously not meant for me to.
Headlights flashed through the windshield as another car passed us going the other way. My muscles tensed, my fingers gripping the door handle even though they were traveling at the normal speed. I didn’t breathe until the opposite side of the road faded into darkness.
Through the rearview mirror, I saw Murphy reach over the middle seat, covering Raven’s hand with his. My throat tightened and the stinging in my eyes returned. Somehow, it felt like I was the one on the outside. The third wheel, even with Clarke next to me.
Without thinking, I reached across the console and took Clarke’s hand in mine. She glanced over, then lifted our joint hands to her lips. She kissed my knuckles gently before resting them against the armrest.
The gesture was clear: I wasn’t alone.
But I also wasn’t really… there. I wasn’t sure I knew how to be.
Not anymore.
Chapter 18: so I watched you go
Chapter Text
The only reason Murphy knew it was Monday was because he had his abnormal psychology written final on Tuesday. Tomorrow. Time stopped mattering the longer he stared at his textbook, the black and white print mocking him.
Four days since the accident. One since the funeral.
Last night, he’d picked up a drunk Emma and Raven at The Dropship with Clarke. He hadn’t planned on going with her, but when Raven called, asking for a ride, he knew he didn’t have a choice. He was going to pick her up on his motorcycle. Clarke intercepted him in the parking lot, offering for them to go together. She was picking up Emma.
Because Emma called her. Not Murphy.
It shouldn’t have mattered anymore, but it stung. Somehow through the wave of numbness and isolation, not even registering on Emma’s radar still hurt.
Clarke tried to be sympathetic on the drive over. Let him pick the music.
“I’m sorry about James,” she’d said.
Murphy didn’t respond. Everyone was sorry about James. Being sorry didn’t bring his best friend back. His brother. His fucking roommate.
The apartment hadn’t changed in days. Food was going bad in the fridge, the curtains remained drawn, the door to James’ room shut. It had been left open the day he went into town to grab groceries for their roommate dinner and Murphy all but slammed it shut the second he made it home. Only now the apartment didn’t feel like home. Not without James.
He kept expecting him to walk through the door. To tell him that it was all a joke. A twisted way to scare everyone. He kept expecting a text from him, a phone call, any sign of life. His mom told him that the nurse in charge of James’ case gave his phone to Kane and all Murphy could do was stew about it.
Kane didn’t deserve his son’s phone. Emma did.
The heater kicked on, flooding the apartment with a warmth Murphy barely registered. He rubbed his eyes and looked at the clock on his laptop – 2:05AM. He hadn’t slept the night before. Or much at all over the weekend. Any time he closed his eyes, he saw Emma staring at them through the sliding glass doors of the hospital. A ghost deciding if it was worth entering the world of the living.
A ghost wearing James’ face. How had he not realized how similar they looked before? He knew they were twins but he’d never paid attention. Now he couldn’t stop.
The silence pressed against his chest like a weight. His apartment was haunted by memories but he couldn’t bring himself to escape to the on-campus library. Too many people would be there this close to finals, even at this hour. Too many people to see him. Ask how he was doing.
People he didn’t even know. But they knew James.
Murphy was about to shut his laptop when the knock came.
Soft. Hesitant.
Murphy froze. No one knocked at 2AM. Not unless something was wrong. And not since Emma started dating Clarke.
For a second – just one sick, twisted second – he thought maybe it was James. How many times had he forgotten his keys on a night out with Raven or Miller?
“Maybe you should remember your–” He caught himself, shutting the laptop as his heart dropped.
Then he heard it again.
Three quiet taps. Then nothing.
Murphy stood, legs stiff from sitting too long, and crossed the apartment. Opened the door without bothering to look through the peephole.
Emma stood there, pale and shivering in an oversized hoodie that definitely wasn’t hers. Her hair was tied up in a messy knot on the top of her head and glassy brown eyes looked at him from behind her glasses. No makeup. Her hands in the front pockets of the sweatshirt.
Haunted and gorgeous all at once.
“Hey,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
For a second, time stopped and Murphy couldn’t breathe.
“Can I-?”
Two words. That hoodie. Her voice. It was almost enough to fucking demolish him. But he had to be strong enough to survive the fall.
Wordlessly, Murphy nodded and stepped to the side, letting her in. Emma walked in, breezing right past him. And all he could do was watch as she beelined straight to James’ room. She didn’t ask as she pulled the door open, and he was brought back to one of the first nights they’d hooked up earlier in the year, right when they’d gotten back to Arkadia.
She’d asked to borrow his shower. He joked that she never asked his permission for anything.
James’ door snapped closed and Murphy stood frozen. Did he text Jasper? Clarke? Someone so that they knew where she was? And what was she even doing here?
Through the brain fog, Murphy remembered to close the door to the apartment and locked it again. He sighed and grabbed his laptop before bringing it into his own room, opting to leave Emma be for now.
She obviously didn’t need him. She needed James.
That makes two of us.
He would check on her later.
Still, even though he typically slept with the door closed, he left it a crack open as he went to study more on his bed. Just in case.
The weight of everything and nothing filled the apartment.
The apartment was quiet. More quiet than it had any right to be – too dark, too warm, too damn well suffocating.
Murphy wasn’t sure when he’d fallen asleep. After Emma barged in, hours earlier, he’d grabbed his laptop and retreated to his room, planning to study. The clinical words and case studies were the only thing keeping his brain from spiraling – blunt tools against the sharp reality that his best friend was gone. That the girl who knew James better than anyone had walked back into Murphy’s life and slammed the door in his face without asking how he was doing.
But why would she? She’d lost half her soul.
He’d only lost his brother.
The sound came soft at first – barely more than a whisper. A shift in the silence.
Murphy turned over, half-asleep, not registering it until it came again. A broken, muffled sound. Too soft to be the radiator or the wind. More… choked. Like someone crying underwater.
It wasn’t a pipe. Not a creak.
It was a voice.
James.
He sat up, heart pounding. He carefully closed his laptop, still open with the last case study he’d been reading, and set it on the floor.
No, please–
He didn’t think. Not when he heard her voice. He just moved. As if it were instinct to go to her, as natural as breathing.
Because it was.
The hallway was dark and cold as Murphy slipped out of his room. He wished he’d thought to grab a hoodie, but his sleep-deprived brain didn’t think about it in time. He quickly crossed the apartment. During the day, it felt small, especially when James was home and it was the two of them. Tonight, though, it felt endless, his heart in his throat as he reached the bedroom door.
It was still closed from earlier, after she’d barged in here only to shut herself away from him. He didn’t bother to knock.
Instead, he quietly opened the door, trying not to disturb her too much. The streetlights from outside spilled into the room, illuminating Emma’s silhouette on the bed. She looked so fucking small, her legs tangled between the blankets. The comforter was half off the bed, no doubt from the thrashing.
“Jamie, please –”
“Rhodes?” Murphy prompted, walking a little further into the room.
“I’m sorry, please don’t go–”
“Rhodes,” Murphy repeated, his voice louder.
Still nothing.
Even in sleep, she looked like him. Like James. Just smaller, softer even. And though Murphy and Emma had fallen asleep together more times when they weren’t having sex than when they were, he’d never noticed that the two of them slept exactly the same. On their stomachs. Arms spread out, legs tangled, one knee propped toward the edge of the bed.
“Jamie!”
Fuck, he couldn’t take it anymore.
“Emma,” Murphy interrupted, making his way toward the bed. He knelt down next to it, not daring to touch her, but wanting to let her know that he was there. “Emma. Wake up.”
Nothing happened at first. Her eyes twitched behind her lids before she stirred, her brows furrowing. Her breath hitched as if she wasn’t sure she was still asleep.
“Jamie?” she murmured, voice scratchy and unsure.
Murphy didn’t correct her. Not yet.
He didn’t want to be the one to tell her that her twin brother was dead, that whatever had happened was a dream. A nightmare.
Emma shifted again. Her lashes fluttered, heavy and slow, before her eyes finally cracked open. He was struck by how dark they were – a deep brown he’d never fully appreciated until they were staring him in the face. Dull. Unfocused.
“Emma,” he said again, repeating her name even though it felt foreign to him. His voice was softer, gentler than before. “It’s me.”
Those haunting eyes locked on him, still a little dazed and far away. Then they widened and she sat up slightly, just enough to perch her elbow on the bed and come into full focus.
“Johnny?”
Her voice was barely louder than a whisper. Something pinched his chest. She called him that the same way she’d said his name at the hospital – soft, a little cracked, like she didn’t fully believe that he was there. It used to mean something else. Something vulnerable, something soft. Now she said his name like a prayer.
“Yeah,” he said when he realized he had to say something. “I’m here.”
“And Jamie?” she asked, her voice thick.
Of course she was going to fucking make him say it anyway.
Instinctively, he reached out, brushing some of her curls out of her face. She didn’t flinch away from his touch and his fingertips grazed her cheek. They lingered for a fraction too long before he pulled away.
“I’m sorry, Emma,” he replied when he managed to get the words out. “He’s–”
She finished for him. “Gone.”
Murphy nodded. It was the only confirmation he could bring himself to give.
The word hovered between them, fragile and terrible and true. The moment seemed to stretch out into eternity, but Murphy didn’t dare say anything. Still waited for her to react.
As far as he knew, she’d only cried at the hospital. Not at the wake. Not during her eulogy. And not even during the funeral, when she stood next to her mom and Clarke, stiff as a board as she watched them lower James to the ground.
Murphy had tears in his eyes then. Emma did not.
“Okay,” she said, the word heavy.
Murphy frowned, waiting for something else. Anything else. Anger, grief – something other than this ghost-like version of her that laid in front of him, now curled into a ball.
This wasn’t his Emma. His Emma would’ve screamed. Would’ve hit something. Hit him and made him feel it.
She wouldn’t have whispered okay and then disappeared right before his eyes.
Then again, she hadn’t been his since October. He wasn’t sure if she ever really had been.
“Okay?” he repeated, trying to tamper down the anger in his own voice.
She nodded once. “Okay.”
None of it was fucking okay.
Emma rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling. The air was thick between them, everything left unsaid hanging in the delicate balance.
Murphy watched her, waited for her to ask him to leave. Waited for her to be angry with him for waking her up from whatever nightmare she’d had.
She didn’t ask him to leave.
And so he stayed.
Murphy didn’t sleep much that night. Eventually, Emma drifted off, but he stayed where he was, sitting by the side of James’ bed. Every time she stirred, he looked over, checking to make sure that she was alright.
He knew he needed to let go. He knew she didn’t need him anymore. But even now, even when things felt impossible, being there for Emma Rhodes when she needed him was non-negotiable. No matter what they’d been through, he knew James would want him to look out for her.
So that night, while Emma slept in James’ bed and he sat like a ghost on the floor, Murphy made a promise he wasn’t sure he could keep.
“I’ve got her,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. He glanced up at the ceiling, noticing the cracks in the tiles as something wet strained behind his eyes. “Even if she hates me for it.”
He swallowed.
Especially then.
It wasn’t until sunlight spilled through the windows that Murphy left the bedroom. He glanced at her one more time before standing, his legs stiff from sitting on the floor all night. After rolling his shoulders and his neck, he padded into the hallway to grab his phone. He’d left it by his bed but he knew his alarm would be going off soon.
The apartment was still warm from the night before. Or maybe that was him; too warm, too suffocated by all the ghosts that haunted here. If he listened close enough, he thought he could hear James’ laughter spilling from the kitchen at one of his own jokes. He still anticipated him walking through the door at any minute, still expected his phone to light up with a text from him saying he was on his way home.
Murphy tried to shake those thoughts away. It had only been five days. How the fuck was he supposed to function like this for the rest of his life? How the fuck were any of them supposed to make it through the rest of the semester?
His alarm started to go off and Murphy grabbed it, silencing it before it had the chance to get any louder.
Scrolling through his notifications, he only had a few missed texts from Raven and Emori. He ignored Emori for now, pulling up his message thread with Raven.
Raven: thanks for the ride the other night. sorry if i said anything inappropriate
Murphy almost chuckled. That had been almost twelve hours ago, but the delayed apology didn’t bother him. He felt like out of everyone, Raven and Emma should get free passes on how they were dealing with their grief.
Raven: i know it’s stupid, but i miss him
Raven: did you know him and emma laugh the same?
Something twisted in Murphy’s chest. Raven had never confessed her feelings for James to him, but he could tell. Just in the way they acted together, the way they looked at each other.
How was he supposed to let himself fall apart when they needed him to catch them? He wasn’t James’ twin sister. Not his almost-lover.
He was just… Murphy. His best friend. His roommate. His brother.
And yet… never quite enough.
Fuck, he couldn’t do this.
Murphy’s thumb moved to answer Raven’s texts so she wouldn’t think he was ignoring her when a knock disrupted him. Not soft this time, like last night. This morning? These knocks were sharp and loud and echoed like a warning through the apartment.
Bleary eyed, Murphy blinked. He hadn’t texted anyone. Didn’t want anyone. Didn’t need anyone. Everyone should be focused on Emma and Raven. James’... girls.
Another knock.
“Fucking hell, I’m coming,” he grunted.
Murphy stalked over to the door and wrenched it open. Somehow, he wasn’t surprised to see none other than Jasper Jordan standing there. His hair was a mess, sticking up in all the wrong places, and he wore flannel pajama pants he’d clearly slept in and a hoodie. There were circles under his eyes and a brown paper bag balanced on a tray of coffee. Three to-go coffees.
“I’ve been stalking her location,” he said in way of greeting. “Even if I wasn’t, it wouldn’t take a genius to figure out that she came here.”
Murphy stared at him but deep down, was relieved. He’d promised James that he would look out for Emma – and now here he was, fucking relieved someone else had come to look out for her instead.
He didn’t always like Jasper. He was too loud, too dramatic, too present . But Murphy tolerated him because he was Emma’s best friend. Had been since childhood.
The third coffee in the carry-out tray surprised him as he stepped aside to let the man in.
“Did you get yourself two coffees again?” he asked, knowing Jasper wouldn’t be in the mood for smalltalk. Not right now.
“It’s for you, smartass,” Jasper replied with a roll of his eyes. “And there are two breakfast sandwiches in here. Bacon egg and cheese for Emma. I didn’t know what you liked so I got you the same thing. Everyone loves bacon.”
Murphy stared at the coffee tray in Jasper’s hand. He nodded once; saying thank you didn’t feel quite appropriate here. Even if his mom would tell him it was the polite thing to do.
“I’m not going to ask how she is because I know the answer. Did she sleep at all?” he asked, not bothering to keep his voice down.
At least he didn’t ask where she slept. He probably already knew that, too.
“A bit,” he admitted. “She… had a nightmare and woke up in the middle of the night.”
Jasper nodded. This wasn’t new information to him. “She’s been having those since Thursday,” he replied. His tone was casual but not cruel; a hint of sympathy laced his voice in a way that Murphy knew he would never use with Emma herself. “Probably needed to get out of the apartment. I’m just glad she came here.”
Just glad? Murphy wanted to ask where else would she go? but something stopped him. Maybe it was Jasper’s vast knowledge of Emma Rhodes. Then again, he had twenty years with her whereas Murphy only had two and a half. And they didn’t talk on the rooftop like they used to.
Not since it ended. Not since Clarke.
“Do you want to stay?” Murphy asked, glancing at him.
“I would, but I have a final in an hour,” he replied. “Tell her I dropped by.”
A final. Right.
Because the world didn’t stop turning just because James Rhodes died, even if it felt like his had.
Jasper seemed to hesitate, almost like his brain was buffering in real time. Murphy had seen it happen mostly when he was drunk. The normally flippant, theatrical Jasper was gone, even for a brief second as his eyes seemed to latch onto the door to James’ room. As if he realized where he was standing.
“Jasper?” Murphy prompted, drawing his attention back. “Was there something else?”
He shook his head, some of the shaggy pieces of his hair falling back into place. “No, I’m good,” he said. “I’m just…” A pause. “Worried. And… I miss him. And it feels like I’m not allowed to say it.”
Murphy swallowed his surprise at the admission. Did they actually have something in common?
But he didn’t want to admit to it and seem like the villain, either.
When Murphy still didn’t say anything, Jasper cleared his throat. “Anyway. I should get going,” he said, like he was trying to regain some control over his emotions. Murphy had never seen him like this; unraveled, a little lost, like he was trying to grasp his spark before he lost it entirely. “Make sure she eats. I’ll try texting her again later.”
“Okay,” he replied. He hesitated. “Thanks, Jasper.”
Jasper shrugged carelessly. “We all have to do our part to make sure she doesn’t drown,” he said. “It’s what James would want.”
I fucking know.
Murphy pushed his lips together and gave a curt nod. Thankfully, Jasper didn’t say anything else. He glanced toward the closed bedroom door again and sighed. He walked into the living room and set the carry-out tray and paper bag on it before grabbing the third coffee for himself, something dark and loaded with ice. No doubt an unexpected order.
Without another word, Jasper walked out of the apartment and shut the door. It closed with a soft click and left Murphy alone again.
Well… not entirely.
Jasper’s entrance brought him back to reality. Murphy also had a final in a few hours; his abnormal psych exam. He didn’t want to leave Emma alone but he didn’t want her to feel like he was kicking her out, either. But there was still time.
So he showered, dressed in fresh clothes, and brushed his teeth. When he was ready, Emma still hadn’t come out, so he grabbed the coffee and one of the sandwiches wrapped in tinfoil. He took a breath before knocking gently and pushing the door back open.
Emma was curled on her side, back facing the door. Hoodie drawn up, blankets tangled at her feet.
“Jasper was here,” he said, unsure if she was awake. “He brought some food.”
No response. Murphy’s chest ached.
“I have a final in thirty minutes, so I’ll be gone for a while,” he continued, still speaking to her back. “You can stay here as long as you like.”
Still no response. Murphy set the sandwich and the iced beverage on James’ nightstand, making sure to leave it on the coaster. As if he could hear his best friend scolding him for leaving an iced beverage on the naked wood because of the condensation rings, John.
He briefly pushed his lips together.
“You should eat something.”
Still no response. Just steady, even breathing, as if she were still asleep. It was possible – he knew she’d been up most of the night, even after the nightmare. They had stayed quiet. Just two souls searching for something neither of them would be able to grasp.
Murphy raked a hand through his freshly washed hair. He looked at her one more time, wishing there was something he could say to make it better. Wishing he could tell her that it was a joke. That James had just spent the night at Raven’s or in the library and would be home soon.
There was nothing he could say. So he said nothing at all.
He turned toward the door, but as he did, he heard a faint shuffling. He stopped and glanced over his shoulder to find Emma looking at him, her eyes drained of any life or spark he had once loved.
Maybe still did.
“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.
She didn’t elaborate. If she was thanking him for the food, for letting her stay, for last night. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was that she was here. And as long as she was here, he could try to reach her again. Try to bring her back.
“You’re welcome.” His voice was just as soft as hers, as if not wanting to break the magic spell. He hesitated. When she didn’t say anything else, Murphy nodded once. “I’ll be back.”
She nodded once to indicate that she heard him.
And then Murphy walked out of the room, mentally preparing himself for his final.
Because the world didn’t stop spinning just because James Rhodes died. Even if it felt like his had.
The exam itself took him just under an hour to complete and Murphy was one of the first ones to finish and hand the paper into the TA. The TA – a guy named Mark – gave him a sympathetic look that made Murphy’s skin crawl. Everyone had been giving him that look. Ever since the funeral.
He was just James’ roommate.
Murphy walked home like a phantom, each breath heavier than the last. Each step a weight he couldn’t shake. He didn’t know what he would find when he got there – if Emma would still be there, if she had touched the food Jasper had brought that morning, if he even wanted her there. It wasn’t that he had gotten used to the solitude and isolation over the weekend. He wouldn’t ever get used to it.
She was just… there. Taking up too much space. Reminding him of everything he lost.
And he was supposed to look out for her. So why did it feel like she was the one haunting him?
Murphy dug into his pockets and found his key to let himself in. He pushed the door open and pulled his phone out of his pocket. His thumb hovered over James’ message thread, ready to text him that he was home and the final had gone well.
Then he eyed Raven’s unanswered texts from earlier that morning.
Raven: did you know him and emma laugh the same?
With a grunt of repressed anger, Murphy tossed his phone. It fell to the floor with an unceremonious clang and he kicked it towards the couch for good measure.
James’ door was still closed. Was she still there?
Before Murphy had the chance to find out, another knock came from the other side of the door. Softer than this morning’s interruption from Jasper. More tentative.
No one knocked anymore. Then again, he hadn’t expected his apartment to become the grief parade – and maybe he should have.
When he didn’t answer at first, the second knock came louder. More confident.
“I’m coming,” he grumbled, glancing at James’ door one more time before crossing the apartment and twisting the doorknob.
Clarke Griffin stood there, blonde hair pulled in a loose braid and a green hoodie he recognized as Emma’s. Her blue eyes were rimmed with exhaustion, like she hadn’t been sleeping either.
He didn’t need to ask why she was there. Of course she had come for her girlfriend.
Did Jasper tell her where she was?
“Hey,” Clarke greeted, her voice far too casual for the situation. “I… I know she’s here. I just… wanted to check on her.”
She shoved her hands into the pocket of the sweatshirt. No food with her. Not demanding to see Emma, the complete opposite of Jasper’s entrance. Just… unsteady. Like she wasn’t even sure if she was supposed to be here.
“She’s asleep,” Murphy replied, his voice more defensive than he had a right to be. He hoped what he said was true. “Now’s not a great time.”
Clarke didn’t move. She just nodded, her eyes flicking to the hallway behind Murphy. Like if she tried hard enough, Emma might materialize out of nowhere. She rocked on the balls of her feet.
Murphy didn’t know her well, but he had the sense that this was new to her. Not necessarily the grief, but being lost and unsure of how to proceed. She had been calm and steady at the hospital, the perfect anchor for Emma. Now she seemed… nervous.
He almost felt bad for her.
“She had a nightmare last night,” Murphy admitted. Less defensive. “Asked for James. She’s not here because she doesn’t want you.”
Clarke’s face softened. Murphy almost let her in.
Almost.
“Can you tell her I stopped by?” she asked after what felt like an eternity of silence.
“Yeah. Of course. Did you… did you want to come in?”
This time, it was Clarke who hesitated. “I, uh… I have a final in an hour,” she said. She rubbed the back of her neck. “I just… I wanted her to know I was… here.”
Murphy nodded. “I’ll tell her.”
Clarke shifted like she was about to leave again. She even turned slightly but then stopped, looking at him over her shoulder. “Murphy?”
“Yeah?”
She swallowed. “Thanks… for being here.”
Murphy wanted to laugh. Almost did. But the look on her face, the pure vulnerability, made him pause. He shrugged, trying not to offend her. “I live here.”
“I know,” Clarke replied. “I just… At least she came to you.”
It echoed something Jasper said earlier that morning. About how he was glad she had come here. Where else would she have gone?
“She didn’t,” Murphy said, as if it was the obvious answer. Maybe because it was – at least to him. “She came for James.”
Something crossed over Clarke’s face. She opened her mouth like she was going to say something but Murphy never got a chance to figure out what. Because just then, the door behind him creaked open and footsteps padded across the room. Murphy looked behind him and Emma stood there, the color drained from her face. Her brown hair sticking out of its ponytail. Eyes red from crying.
Fuck. How much had she heard?
“I should go,” Emma said, her voice barely audible.
“Emma, hey–” Clarke began, turning to take a step towards her.
Emma shook her head. She glanced at Murphy and opened her mouth like she was going to say something. Instead, she brushed past them, a phantom in the wind. As if she had never been there at all.
Clarke started to go after her, but Murphy gently reached out, touching her arm.
“Let her,” he said softly.
“And you know what’s best?” Clarke snapped, the nervous girl from before gone.
“No,” he admitted. “And neither do you.”
Clarke jutted her chin out at him and Murphy rolled his eyes. But neither of them said anything else as they stood there and watched her go.
Chapter 19: haunted by the look in my eye
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Karaoke Night at The Dead Zone was Jasper’s idea.
Of course it was.
I loved my best friend – he had been with me through everything – and usually, I didn’t mind his flair for chaos. But not tonight. Not when it had been seven days since the world ended.
Since my brother –
Not when we were smack in the middle of finals week, either. Finals I’d skipped or deferred, like I should have skipped this too. But Jasper insisted and I couldn’t say no.
He hadn’t let me out of his sight since Tuesday, except last night when I stayed at Clarke’s. Even then, worry clouded his eyes. Coming tonight felt like the least I could do. Maybe then my friends would stop looking at me like I was a ghost every time I came out of my room. I hadn’t told them about the nightmares, but they probably already knew.
They always knew. It was infuriating. And endearing. And I wasn’t sure why they bothered.
I wasn’t sure there was anything left to save.
Now I sat in a sticky leather booth with Clarke, Raven, and Miller, nursing a Rum and Coke—James’ favorite. I doubted this was going to be as simple as Jasper had promised.
When I caught Raven staring at the pool table, biting her lower lip so hard it almost bled, I nudged her with my arm.
“You good?” I asked, my voice low.
Clarke’s hand found my thigh under the table, fingers warm through my jeans. I tangled my fingers briefly with hers; a silent thank you. She glanced up at me with a faint smile, and something warmed in my chest at the idea that maybe she actually wanted to be here, too.
“Peachy,” Raven replied, pressing her lips into a thin smile. That was basically Raven-speak for Not even close, but neither of us were really in a place to talk about it.
“That’s a lie,” I muttered.
I pushed my drink toward her. She took a sip, smirking over the rim like she knew I’d caught her.
“Rum and Coke?” she asked, surprised.
I didn’t answer. “Leave it to Jasper to bring us to a bar literally called The Dead Zone.”
Miller snorted. “It’s the only place with good karaoke. And we used to come here all the time with –” He cut himself off, as if saying James’ name would shatter me. “James. And Murphy.”
“Quite the dream team,” Clarke teased lightly.
They swapped stories about my brother hustling frat boys at pool. I tried to smile my way through it, but the ache in my chest was sharp and familiar. It was almost unnerving that they could talk so casually about him, like he had been gone for months instead of a week. Like they had adjusted already.
“It was worse when he won at darts, too,” Miller commented, earning a nod of agreement from Raven.
“Only because Miller’s terrible at darts.”
His low, familiar voice cut through the conversation and the ache twisted deeper. Murphy stood at the edge of the table, a Long Island Iced Tea in hand. His eyes flickered to me first before scanning the rest of the table. The warmth evaporated and Clarke’s hand pressed firmer against my thigh. I tightened the grip on Clarke’s hand, swallowing against the lump in my throat.
We hadn’t spoken since Tuesday morning. Not even a text.
Now it was Thursday.
It shouldn’t have been a surprise, but it was. A sharp reminder of the man John Murphy was capable of being (warm and tender) and the one he presented himself as (cold and uncaring).
Jasper had said everyone was going, but I wasn’t ready to see him here. Not at James’ place.
Murphy slipped into his spot next to Miller and I took my drink back from Raven. A quiet, underlying silence settled between the group.
“So, Murphy,” Clarke said lightly, “didn’t think of you much as a performer.”
I caught the faint curve of her mouth as she said it – teasing, but not entirely without edge.
“I was told there would be free alcohol,” Murphy deadpanned.
Clarke raised her brow as Jasper arrived at the table, carrying a round of shots on a black circle tray like he actually worked there.
Perfect timing, as usual.
“Yet you’re still late,” Jasper quipped.
“Right on time,” he shot back, pulling at his straw.
It was weird, having Murphy be part of the group without James to keep him in line. Clarke’s knee pressed lightly against mine, but it didn’t dull the sharp, splintering ache in my chest that always seemed to flare in his presence. Especially after Monday night.
Especially without James.
“Liquid courage, everyone,” Jasper announced, voice cutting through the tension like he was hosting the night. He set the shots down with a flourish, smirking at me. “Don’t worry, Em. They’re not tequila this time.”
“For once,” I grumbled, leaning into Clarke’s side as Jasper slid into the seat beside Raven.
Clarke smiled at me and wrapped her arm around my shoulders. We’d hung out last night – the first time we’d really been alone since everything happened – and a very large part of me wanted to escape this suddenly too-small booth and burrow myself into my girlfriend’s bed.
“Bottom’s up!” Jasper proclaimed, reaching for his own glass. He seemed determined not to let the night drag, as if knowing too much silence would lead to too many ghosts.
Too many memories.
I used my free hand to reach for my own glass. We all clinked glasses – even Murphy, with Jasper filming as usual – and threw them back.
Vodka.
I giggled at Clarke’s scrunched up face.
“You could have warned us,” she said, and I leaned over and kissed her cheek.
“I did! I said it wasn’t tequila!” Jasper insisted.
“Vodka is worse,” Clarke grumbled, but everyone laughed and my girlfriend pressed herself a little closer to me, clearly pleased with herself.
“Depends on who you ask,” Murphy muttered, swirling the straw in his Long Island. He didn’t look at me, but I caught the faintest smirk before he took another sip.
Jasper’s phone landed on the table as I reached for my own drink. I couldn’t help but wonder how much of that he caught on camera – he was always sneaky.
Raven tipped her empty shot glass down, tapping it against the table. “Guess I’ll have to chase it with more alcohol.” She knocked back her whiskey, unfazed.
“That’s the spirit!” Jasper exclaimed with a grin, already tapping on his phone again. “So who’s ready to humiliate themselves in front of a crowd of strangers?”
“Please just don’t sing Nickelback again,” Miller groaned.
“Hey, you take that back! ‘Photograph’ is a classic and a crowd pleaser.” He turned his phone toward us. “Besides, my list expanded. Be impressed.”
The Notes app was open, showing a list of songs with far too many emojis to be considered normal. I leaned forward, placing my ear near my girlfriend’s chest, and she chuckled. She moved her arm from my shoulders and twisted her fingers in my loose curls.
I groaned when I saw our song on the list – the one he insisted we do every time we ended up near a karaoke machine. We even had our own choreography. “You didn’t.”
“Oh, I did,” he replied smugly. “You can’t deny the people what they want.”
“No one wants to hear it but you.”
“What is it, babe?” Clarke asked and I looked up, heat flooding my cheeks when I realized just how close I was to her. From this angle, I could see the freckles that dotted her nose, the way her lips curved out of curiosity. Her vanilla perfume.
“Our song,” Jasper announced before I had the chance.
Across the table, Miller groaned. “Oh, God.”
“Jealousy is ugly, Miller,” Jasper chided.
“What song is it?” Clarke asked. I straightened, smoothed my hair, took a sip of my drink. Anything but glance over at Murphy.
Everyone pointedly did not answer Clarke’s question. She was going to have to wait to find out.
I scrunched my face at Jasper. “You said all I had to do was show up!”
It was just karaoke. It wasn’t any of my singing juries or final presentations. Karaoke with alcohol in my system and my best friend. A song I knew by heart. Something normally fun; part of the whole bit was us arguing back and forth.
“I know,” Jasper replied, the first time his voice was somewhat serious all night. “Now I’m hoping you’ll show up on stage with me.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. I took a final swig of my Rum and Coke so the corners of my mouth wouldn’t betray me.
“Fine,” I sighed. “But you’re buying me fries after this.”
Jasper had been doing everything he could to keep my head above water for the last seven days. If he wanted me to perform our stupid song with him on stage, it was quite literally the least I could do. The hardest part was actually getting here; Clarke was the one to give me the final push.
I glanced at my girlfriend now and she nodded in encouragement.
“Go show us all up,” she replied, leaning in for a quick kiss on the cheek.
“Well, you know how much I hate to do that,” I teased, rolling my eyes. I squeezed her hand under the table, not bothering to glance at Murphy. “Come on, Drama King. Your stage beckons.”
I pushed Jasper’s sides until he stood up. Once we were both away from the table, he glanced at me, concern shining in his dark brown eyes. His brow pulled forward and I knew he was giving me a final chance to back out. He didn’t need to ask me if I was okay; I could tell he was doing his own quick scan of me.
“Let’s get it over with,” I assured him, heading toward the stage.
“You’re gonna love this,” Raven commented to Clarke. “They do this all the time.”
“Don’t fuck it up, Em!” Miller teased from the booth.
I flipped him off. As if I could fuck up something that was practically muscle memory.
We stepped up on stage as someone finished screeching their way through “Livin’ on a Prayer”. The lights were hot and gold and made everything feel too close and too far away. I hadn’t been to The Dead Zone in months – it was James’ spot. Being here, on stage, felt like trespassing while wearing a neon sign that said “look at me”. Nausea churned in my stomach.
Jasper strode ahead like he’d won a Tony, tossing a wink in our booth. I found Clarke in the crowd, her phone already up, her smile soft and steady. Some of the weight in my chest loosened and I let out a breath. At least I’d worn something decent – dark jeans, knee-high boots, black top, bold red lip. My leather jacket finished the look, armor I’d dragged myself out of bed to put on.
He glanced back at me and grinned. “God, you even dressed for this. The jacket? Instant rockstar energy.”
I rolled my eyes even as a smile tugged at my lips. “It’s my lucky one.”
“Lucky for me,” he agreed. “No one’s gonna be looking at me.”
I snorted, ignoring the compliment. He grabbed a mic and tossed me the other. I caught it easily and looked back out – Clarke met my gaze again and my pulse jumped.
Jasper cued up the track. The first chords hit, and he dove in like he’d been waiting all night – full drama, exaggerated moves, dragging the mic stand like a prop. Despite everything – the nightmares, the weight in my chest – I smiled.
My cue came so fast, I almost missed it. “You better shape up, ’cause I need a man,” I sang, voice rough from disuse but steady. “And my heart is set on you! ” I pointed at Clarke and tossed her a wink. She laughed, eyes still locked on mine. Raven let out a whistle and Miller heckled from his seat.
Jasper spun me too hard and I nearly missed my line. For a second, I let myself forget. A week ago, James was still here. I was still whole.
I hadn’t sung since.
I caught myself before the spiral sunk in, focusing on the song. Kept going as Sandy, mirroring Jasper’s moves and keeping up the best I could.
Out in the booth, Murphy sat with his Long Island, completely unreadable. That was somehow worse than if he’d looked away. Clarke stared at me like I’d hung the moon.
Fuck, I was in so much trouble.
I glanced at Jasper. He caught it, gave the tiniest nod.
We moved through the rest like we always did — step for step, line for line, two black sheep who knew the choreography by heart. But I wasn’t really there. I was too aware of everything: Clarke’s gaze, her phone still up. Murphy, still as stone. Jasper beside me, anchoring me like he always did.
Nothing about this felt right.
The applause came too loud, too quickly. With shaking fingers, I handed off the mic and barely waited for Jasper before stepping down the stage. I didn’t look toward the booth; I blocked out Miller’s whistles and Raven’s cat-calls.
I couldn’t look toward them. Because if I did, I might see him still watching me, his eyes glued to the entire performance until he noticed me looking.
Or worse – he wouldn’t be looking at me at all.
It wasn’t supposed to matter anymore.
I was doing fine – just fucking fine. And then Monday night happened and I remembered he had a heart and that was all it took for me to want to fucking combust.
Jasper was at my side before I reached the bar, the surrounding noise from the audience dying around me. At first, he didn’t say anything. He just studied me carefully, like he could see through the foundation and black winged eyeliner I’d spent an hour perfecting.
Because he was Jasper, I knew he could.
He bumped his shoulder into mine as we leaned against the bar, waiting for the bartender. “Classic,” he said, flushed and bright-eyed. “We still got it.”
A strangled sound slipped out of me, almost a laugh. “You’re just saying that because you got to live out your theatre kid dreams.”
The bartender appeared and I ordered another Rum and Coke – a double, under Rhodes – forcing a polite smile. When he turned away, I braced my palms against the bar, grounding myself.
“Second double,” Jasper murmured. No judgement, just fact. “And the vodka shot?”
I shrugged. “Trying to stay ahead of the existential dread.”
“Emma.”
I still didn’t look at him as tears threatened to sting my eyes. “Jasper.”
He sighed, nudging me. “It’s okay to be angry.”
“I’m not,” I whispered. He raised a disbelieving brow. “I’m not! Really. I’m… I’m not… anything.”
Jasper’s hand landed on my shoulder, warm and steady. He was good at this – quiet reminders that I wasn’t alone. That he’d been there for me through all of it. That he loved James, too, and lost him.
“You’re here,” he whispered.
I wasn’t sure if he meant here on this Earth, in this alternate universe in which I didn’t have my other half, or if he meant in The Dead Zone on karaoke night. I supposed it didn’t matter.
I swallowed my instinctive reply: For now.
“Yeah,” I replied, forcing a smile, trying to summon the energy from the performance. “I’m here.”
He squeezed my shoulder but thankfully didn’t push the conversation.
When the bartender returned with Jasper’s whiskey, he clinked it against mine in a silent cheers. He was quiet as weaved our way back to the table, Clarke and Raven deep in conversation. Murphy’s voice cut through Miller’s laughter – sharp, distinct, impossible to ignore. I didn’t mean to listen for it, but I always did.
We slid into the booth, on our respective opposite sides, and Raven and Miller congratulated us on our performance. Even Clarke leaned in, pressing a kiss to my cheek.
“You were amazing,” she breathed in my ear. “I didn’t know you could sing like that.”
“Thanks. Washed up theatre kid,” I muttered back, deciding not to tell her that my voice actually sucked. I didn’t want to bring the night down; not when Jasper was trying hard for us all to have a night of normalcy.
I tried to smile at her and lifted my glass to my lips, taking a long sip. The rum burned on the way down. It wasn’t my favorite drink, but we were at James’ place. It seemed only fitting that I honored him in the only way I knew how to in this moment.
Under the table, Clarke’s hand went back to my knee and she squeezed it. I nodded at her, not looking over as Murphy chuckled at something Miller said. Raven was busy on her phone and I kicked her, reminding her that she wasn’t alone either. Her lips curved into a smile before having some of her own drink.
Someone I didn’t recognize got up on stage. She was pretty; bright red curly hair framed her face as she stepped up to the mic. The music started, shifting into something familiar.
My heart froze in my chest. No one else at the table seemed to be paying close attention as the girl started to sing, her voice a little off-key but getting stronger with more confidence.
“Silver Springs” by Fleetwood Mac.
Fuck.
My stomach twisted. I stared at a spot on the table, hyper-aware of everything at once – Clarke’s hand on my leg, the condensation pooling from my glass, the weight of Murphy’s presence across the table. The air thickened, sharp and suffocating. Conversations faded into static until it felt like there were only three of us at the table.
Me, Murphy, and Clarke.
No one else existed.
I didn’t move. Didn’t blink.
The girl’s voice shook a little on the high notes, but it didn’t matter. She poured her heart out on the stage and mine clawed its way up my throat until I couldn’t breathe. Clarke’s thumb traced lazy circles on my knee, oblivious.
Murphy was stoic, but I knew he knew the song. James got his love for Fleetwood Mac from Mom. He’d played this track on repeat, unironically, belting the lyrics in the car with the windows down. Murphy would laugh and tell him to shut the hell up. He never did.
Now, Murphy’s weight across the table felt indistinguishable from James’. A haunting.
I kept my gaze pinned to the ring of condensation on the table, refusing to look up as the song hollowed me out.
“Time cast a spell on you, but you won’t forget me… ”
I bit the inside of my cheek until I tasted blood.
James loved this line; he used to yell it like a battle cry. My brother’s ghost perched in my ear as the girl carried on, oblivious.
“I know I could have loved you, but you would not let me… ”
The glass blurred. I blinked hard, breathing through my nose, and lifted my head.
Murphy’s gaze collided with mine. And it was like a punch to the chest.
I didn’t know if he was thinking about the same thing I was, but the lyrics twisted harder with him right there.
Tuesday morning flashed in my mind – me walking away after hearing him tell Clarke that he lived at his apartment. As if him being there for me was just out of convenience. Obligation. A promise to my brother, not because he cared about me.
I had all the evidence to back it up.
So why was he looking at me like that? Like I might actually mean something to him?
“You’ll never get away from the sound of a woman who loves you… ”
Jasper swore under his breath, bringing me back to reality. My chest ached when I finally tore my gaze away from Murphy only to notice what my best friend had seen.
Clarke. She’d seen everything.
And I couldn’t breathe.
I stood up too fast, not really thinking it through. Just needing an escape. My knee banged against the table, causing the ice to knock against the glass. Clarke caught the glass before it spilled across the table and I grabbed my jacket off the side of the booth.
Murphy wasn’t looking at me anymore, but it was enough. Everything was enough.
I didn’t make up an excuse. My brain wasn’t functioning properly, just white noise and static. At least no one asked any questions as I quickly escaped the booth and headed for the door. I pulled my jacket on, fist reaching into my pocket. Tension in my shoulders barely eased as I felt the comfort of the cigarette pack and gripped it as I walked out the door.
The cold December air pierced my chest. I knew where the smoke spot of The Dropship was, but it took me a few minutes to find it here at The Dead Zone. There was a rock wall a few feet away, lining a stone patio, and I stepped over there. A few people lingered nearby, but thankfully no one paid attention to me as I went to lean against the wall. It was waist-high, enough for me to rest my stomach against it and take a sharp breath.
I fumbled for the cigarette pack and with shaking hands, lit the first cigarette. The nicotine did nothing to ease my nerves or comfort the pressure in my chest.
The side door creaked open and a few seconds later, Clarke appeared. My beautiful girlfriend. Whose only fault was getting tangled up in me and my stupid mess.
“Hey,” she greeted, her voice soft. Not angry. I don’t think I’d ever seen her angry, but then, I had only known her for a few months.
I exhaled, the smoke curling around us. Stars splattered the sky and the crescent moon hung above the clouds. “I thought you would’ve stayed inside.”
“I almost did,” she admitted, taking a step closer. I wished she was angry instead. That was easier to deal with. Now, she just looked… plain. Maybe a little hurt. “But I wanted to check on you.”
I swallowed my initial response: Why?
Instead, I nodded, letting her know that I heard her, but I didn’t know how to answer that question. Not when James’ presence lingered everywhere and mixed in with however I felt about Murphy.
She was silent for a while, coming to stand next to me. She didn’t smoke; she was a biochem major and wanted to become a doctor. At least she didn’t try to convince me to stop.
When the silence became unbearable, Clarke turned toward me. “Emma?”
“Yeah?” I asked, dragging out my first cigarette so that I at least didn’t light a fresh one in her presence.
“You love each other.” She wasn’t accusing me; she said it like a fact. Like a truth so plain that no one could ignore it. “Don’t you?”
I could pretend that she was talking about James. That the loss of my brother was the reason I was fracturing in her sight. That would be the correct answer.
We both knew she wasn’t talking about James.
I at least had the decency to wince. My throat thickened and I took another drag, giving myself a beat.
“No,” I replied, my voice strong enough that I almost believed it. “I’ve never loved him.”
Clarke pressed her lips together. I knew that look by now; she wanted to say something, but the logical part of her brain was heavily advising against it.
Somehow, that was worse than if she’d started yelling at me.
At least I would have deserved that.
She stood there for another second like she might say something anyway, but the words hung between us. The door creaked closed and I didn’t need to look over to know who had been standing there. I felt it, deep in my bones.
Her jaw tightened and she pinched the bridge of her nose with her index and thumb. The only sign of weakness.
“Thanks for inviting me,” she said, and the shift was so abrupt, I stared at her. “I should get going, though – I have an exam in the morning. You and Jasper were amazing.”
I swallowed. She had an exam.
Because the world kept turning even if James Rhodes didn’t.
“Clarke–”
I hesitated, the words stuck in my throat. What could I say to make her stay? To make her realize that she was the one good thing in my life? The light in an endless sea of darkness?
She looked at me, hope shining in her eyes for just a moment.
I couldn’t lie to her again.
“I’m glad you came.” It came out stiff, but it was the truth. I was glad she was there. I was glad every time she was there for me. “Let me know when you get home?”
“Always. You, too.”
“I will. Jasper, Raven, and I usually split an Uber,” I said, as if I wanted to make it clear that I had no plans on going home with anyone else.
Just my roommates.
Clarke hesitated again, weighing her options. Then she nodded like she was satisfied with that answer.
“Goodnight, Emma.”
Without giving me a chance to reply, she turned and disappeared around the corner. The click of her heels faded down the sidewalk, swallowed by the wind. I stayed rooted in the spot, cigarette burning down between my fingers, the silence and apathy louder than the music inside.
Then it was just me and my ghosts.
I shut the door quietly as if someone might hear me sneak into my empty apartment.
After Clarke walked away, I couldn’t go back into The Dead Zone. I couldn’t face my friends and explain to them that I’d likely pushed away the one good thing left in my life. The one good thing I thought I wanted, but now that I was alone, I wasn’t sure I ever really did. Not because it was Clarke. But because she wasn’t…
I couldn’t face my brother’s ghost lingering in every corner of the bar.
And I sure as hell couldn’t face Murphy.
You love each other. Don’t you?
Heavy silence followed me through the apartment as my footsteps echoed in my head. I discarded my jacket carelessly on the living room couch and unzipped my boots, leaving them by the door. Jasper was definitely going to yell at me for ditching them without warning, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. I moved without turning on any lights, like I didn’t belong here, like I was in someone else’s place.
Like I had made the wrong choice when I stepped through the sliding glass doors at the hospital, when I rejoined my living friends on the other side.
The bathroom light buzzed when I flicked it on, but it was too bright, like it was glaring down at me. I walked over to the counter and leaned against the sink, fingers digging into cool porcelain, breath catching as I stared at the vanity and not the mirror.
I didn’t want to see myself. Not like this. Not tonight.
I know I could have loved you but you would not let me…
The lyrics from Silver Springs floated in my head and I squeezed my eyes shut. I could have loved Clarke. I could have loved Murphy.
I could have loved myself.
I twisted my hair back into a ponytail, gathering the curls at the nape of my neck. With shaking hands, I pulled out the silver hoops I’d worn tonight, suddenly weighing me down. Carefully, I wiped the smudged lipstick that had outlived the night. The tissue came back streaked with red and black.
When I finally looked up at the mirror to wipe my eye makeup, I wished I hadn’t.
The girl staring back at me wasn’t me.
It wasn’t even a girl.
It was James.
His reflection, not mine.
A gasp rippled through me and I squeezed my eyes shut, willing him away. When I opened them, he was still there, his eyes bright and mocking.
Way to go, kid. You really fucked up this time. I thought you promised you would make it work with Clarke?
“Shut up!” I yelled, my voice echoing off the bathroom tiles. “Shut up, shut up!”
Typical Emma. Always so dramatic. Always making promises you can’t–
Before I realized what was happening, my fist flew at James’ reflection. Pain split through my knuckles with the crack, glass blooming outward in a spiderweb. Shards of dust and broken glass splintered into my skin but I barely noticed. Blood swelled and dripped down my fingers as I sunk down onto the cold bathroom tile.
Sobs broke loose and I curled myself into a ball, my whole body shaking.
I didn’t care that my roommates would be home soon. I didn’t care that I would have to explain myself – and it might have been easier to explain myself back at the bar.
I didn’t care.
I didn’t care about anything.
Maybe that was the worst part.
Notes:
Songs used in this chapter:
- "You're The One I Want" from Grease
- "Silver Springs" by Fleetwood MacHighly recommend listening to the second one while reading.
And just like that... we are at the second to last chapter of as the lights went out. If you've made it this far, I want to take a moment to thank you for reading. This story has been a journey but I'm so touched by all of your support and love, not just for this fic, but for Memma. I'd like to especially thank Liz and Abbi, who have been major cheerleaders throughout this whole story, including the re-write of the beginning.
I hope you enjoy the final chapter <3
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