Chapter 6 6

Clyde

I didn't know her favorite ice cream flavor, so I went with strawberry. It's universal, right? Wheeling back to where she was standing, I saw her with her phone pressed to her ear, her back turned.

"Millie, for God's sake, don't do that again! I swear I'll call you when I'm back, alright?" She finished, sighing as she dropped her hand, clutching her chest dramatically.

"Miss Bailey?" I stretched the ice cream toward her.

She took it, immediately biting off a huge chunk. I could almost feel the brain freeze coming on.

"Everything okay?" I asked. Her bun was already falling loose, and strands of hair drifted around her neck-first time I'd seen her hair without that layer of gel slicking it down.

"Millie lied to me. She told me my dad was dead just to stop me from hanging up. I nearly had a heart attack." Her voice shook a little as she tried to catch her breath.

I didn't realize I was smiling until she caught me. "Why are you smiling?" she asked, her brows knitting together.

"If you cared so much about your dad, why did you run away?" I asked, turning my wheelchair and moving forward. She didn't miss a beat, walking quickly to catch up.

"I didn't want to marry Anthony." Her tone sounded almost like she was trying to convince herself more than me.

"That's not a good enough reason, Miss."

"Don't call me 'Miss,'" she cut in, maybe hoping to dodge the question. Either she didn't know the real reason or didn't want to admit it. Me? I'd run away from my dad even if he forced me to marry the devil.

"You're almost twice my age. What am I supposed to call you?"

"What?!" she gasped. "I'm seven years away from that, thank you very much," she huffed, almost pouting.

I stopped to look at her. She wore a little frown, like the age joke hit a nerve. Funny how older women seem to get sensitive about age with younger people-I'd noticed my mom's the same.

"I said 'almost,'" I said with a shrug, wheeling away.

"So... why didn't you want to marry Anthony?"

She sighed, her pace slowing beside me. "I don't know... he had a wife he loved, really loved. She's gone, but everyone knows she still has his heart. And he has a sixteen-year-old daughter who would hate me for being there. I don't want to walk into that."

I glanced up at her. "Are you sure?"

"What are you, my therapist now?" She scoffed, looking away, her tone more defensive than she probably realized.

Ahead, her friend was awake and waving from a distance. We both started walking that way, her steps slowing as she spoke.

"Lately, she sleeps a lot," Medora mumbled, half to herself. Then she looked at me. "When did it happen?"

"When did what happen?"

"The accident," she clarified softly.

"Today, a year ago."

"Oh... I'm so sorry, Clyde," she said, her voice tender.

I just nodded. "Yeah."

"Hey," she said after a moment. "Do you want to go see a movie on Friday night? With me?"

"Why?" I asked, surprised.

She grinned, giving my shoulder a squeeze. "Because you live a dull life up in that treehouse of yours playing video games all day."

I forced a smile. "When you don't have working legs, there's not much choice."

She rolled her eyes. "C'mon, you can do better."

"Actually, I have a private cinema in my house," I replied. Apart from my house and the hospital, I didn't go many places. This park outing was just for Emilia's sake.

"Oh? Fancy." She hesitated. "Are you sure?"

I nodded. "Yes."

As we reached her friend, a blonde girl who had just sat up, she waved at me. "Hi! I'm Yellow."

"Clyde," I said, shaking her hand.

Medora turned to me. "We're heading out now, Clyde. You'll be alright?"

"Yeah, Barry's around somewhere," I said, nodding toward my bodyguard.

"Okay." Medora leaned down and kissed my cheek, lingering just a second.

"Friday night?" I asked, just to be sure.

"It's a date." She winked, grinning before she and Yellow walked away, her laugh trailing behind her.

*****

Friday Night

Miss Bailey's reply was simple: Mint chocolate chip. It was her favorite ice cream, and I wasn't going to guess like last time.

Tonight's setup was ambitious: strawberries, pretzels, marshmallows, crackers, grapes, M&Ms, Skittles, gummy bears, chocolate bars in white and dark, and Twizzlers, all arranged neatly on a large tray. Two bowls of caramel popcorn sat nearby, along with a fresh box of pizza. I took my seat in front of the screen, waiting with anticipation. I'd asked Barry to meet her at the entrance and lead her up here.

A few minutes later, the door opened, and she stepped in.

"Hey there, Juliet," I greeted her, still scrolling on my phone but smiling to myself.

"Clyde, this place is amazing! I mean, not just this room, but your whole house," she said, genuinely awed as she looked around.

I glanced up, and there she was, slipping off her jacket. For a casual movie night with her nineteen-year-old neighbor, she'd put some thought into her outfit. A black top that dipped into a subtle V-neck and fastened behind her neck, showing just a hint of cleavage. Dark jeans hugged her form, paired with black boots that matched the top perfectly. Her wavy brown hair was down for the first time since we met, cascading over her shoulders. Her arms were bare, too; normally, she wore long sleeves or jackets.

"Thank you so much, Clyde," she said, taking it all in as she settled beside me, pulling her hair back and reaching for a bowl of popcorn. I was glad she appreciated the effort.

"You're welcome, Angel," I said, almost without thinking. The endearment slipped out, but it felt natural.

"So, what are we watching?" she asked, folding her legs up on the couch like mine and tucking a blanket over her lap.

"Horror movie. The Invisible Man. You don't mind scary movies, do you?"

She laughed, brushing her hand dismissively through the air. "Oh, please. I'm a grown woman. I know it's fake."

I hadn't seen the movie yet myself, but I'd heard it was terrifying. Still, I didn't want to spoil it for her.

Seeing that we were ready, Barry dimmed the lights, and the screen lit up. The room fell into silence as the movie began.