Crikey! He’s so much older than me. He’s not a bloke, he’s a man! My stomach does a flip-flop as the thought hits me.
“I am,” he says.
“Are you really from South Carolina?”
I need to know more about him . There’s no way I’m staying a second longer if I don’t know everything, even his blood type.
“Yes, I’m from Lyman. My folks are there. My mom is in the force; my dad is in the force. My sister, Laurie, was in the force, and my younger brother, Wyatt, joined up about a year back.” I pick up the past tense he uses when he refers to his sister.
“How long have you been one?” I ask my next question. I’m asking bloody questions. Have I lost it? I must get on the phone and beg my mother’s forgiveness! I should phone Chloe. I should pack and run. His whole family are coppers. They. All. Are!
“I served in the army for two years. I went to college when I came back. I’ve been on the force for five,” he says, stopping for a second, “I just made detective, but it was more luck than anything else.”
“What is your blood type?” He frowns.
“B positive.” A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Is that really important?”
“If you’re bl eeding to death and they ask me that, then yeah, I suppose it is.” I wipe the smile from his face, but I’m not happy about it. I’m not happy about any of this. I want to crawl under the bed and hide until it all just blows over.
“How did you know w hat to do last night?” he asks a question back.
I swallow. Of course he wouldn’t have missed that. “I just finished qualifying as a nurse.”
Oh, yeah. I t’s my turn to shock him.
He stares real hard at me. Seconds tick by. Long seconds. Seconds in which the panic I just managed to get rid of wells back up in my chest. I hate feeling anxious. I hate the pain it brings when it feels like your ribs are trying to squeeze the air out of your lungs. I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself down.
“I’m really confused,” he starts. “If you qualified as a nurse, why study more?”
He’s upset. I don’t know what to do when he’s upset. My chest tightens even more and I fold my hands at my stomach to ease the burning sensation. I can’t look at him any more, so I look down like the coward I am and always will be.
“I came here to get away. I’m not even sure what course I enrolled for. Something to do with fables. I’ll ten to one be learning about Peter Pan,” I mumble.
“ You did what?” he snaps.
I flinch. My mother n ever raises her voice. She gives me speeches, a lot of speeches, but she never raises her voice. She’s always either sarcastic or dripping with poison. I don’t know what to do now. I only know how to handle my mother.
“ Fables might be interesting.” I murmur. What? What the hell am I on about? I think I’m losing it. Finally going nutters.
“ Emma, are you listening to yourself?” he asks. I start to nod so he’ll see I’m listening.
“ I’m so stupid,” I agree. Maybe if I agree with him like I do with my mother he’ll stop being upset.
“No,” he exclaims , and steps up to me. I force myself to stand still but I can’t stop the trembling as it spreads over me. I’m scared. This is new and I don’t know what to do. “No, you’re not. Just dammed desperate,” he says. His voice softens, “Why not just come here on a working visa? Is it somethin’ you wanted to do, be a nurse?”
“No ,” I answer truthfully. I swallow hard at the lump in my throat. “I studied what I was told to study.” I don’t want to talk about me any more. I’m feeling rather self-conscious.
“Hey,” he whispers, “ Emma?”
His hand brush es softly down my arm and my heart does that thing where it scarpers right through the roof, abandoning me. I dare a glance up at him, but instead of it being a quick one, he takes hold of my chin, lifting my face to his. I start blinking fast to stop the tears. I don’t understand why he’s being
“I am,” he says.
“Are you really from South Carolina?”
I need to know more about him . There’s no way I’m staying a second longer if I don’t know everything, even his blood type.
“Yes, I’m from Lyman. My folks are there. My mom is in the force; my dad is in the force. My sister, Laurie, was in the force, and my younger brother, Wyatt, joined up about a year back.” I pick up the past tense he uses when he refers to his sister.
“How long have you been one?” I ask my next question. I’m asking bloody questions. Have I lost it? I must get on the phone and beg my mother’s forgiveness! I should phone Chloe. I should pack and run. His whole family are coppers. They. All. Are!
“I served in the army for two years. I went to college when I came back. I’ve been on the force for five,” he says, stopping for a second, “I just made detective, but it was more luck than anything else.”
“What is your blood type?” He frowns.
“B positive.” A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Is that really important?”
“If you’re bl eeding to death and they ask me that, then yeah, I suppose it is.” I wipe the smile from his face, but I’m not happy about it. I’m not happy about any of this. I want to crawl under the bed and hide until it all just blows over.
“How did you know w hat to do last night?” he asks a question back.
I swallow. Of course he wouldn’t have missed that. “I just finished qualifying as a nurse.”
Oh, yeah. I t’s my turn to shock him.
He stares real hard at me. Seconds tick by. Long seconds. Seconds in which the panic I just managed to get rid of wells back up in my chest. I hate feeling anxious. I hate the pain it brings when it feels like your ribs are trying to squeeze the air out of your lungs. I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself down.
“I’m really confused,” he starts. “If you qualified as a nurse, why study more?”
He’s upset. I don’t know what to do when he’s upset. My chest tightens even more and I fold my hands at my stomach to ease the burning sensation. I can’t look at him any more, so I look down like the coward I am and always will be.
“I came here to get away. I’m not even sure what course I enrolled for. Something to do with fables. I’ll ten to one be learning about Peter Pan,” I mumble.
“ You did what?” he snaps.
I flinch. My mother n ever raises her voice. She gives me speeches, a lot of speeches, but she never raises her voice. She’s always either sarcastic or dripping with poison. I don’t know what to do now. I only know how to handle my mother.
“ Fables might be interesting.” I murmur. What? What the hell am I on about? I think I’m losing it. Finally going nutters.
“ Emma, are you listening to yourself?” he asks. I start to nod so he’ll see I’m listening.
“ I’m so stupid,” I agree. Maybe if I agree with him like I do with my mother he’ll stop being upset.
“No,” he exclaims , and steps up to me. I force myself to stand still but I can’t stop the trembling as it spreads over me. I’m scared. This is new and I don’t know what to do. “No, you’re not. Just dammed desperate,” he says. His voice softens, “Why not just come here on a working visa? Is it somethin’ you wanted to do, be a nurse?”
“No ,” I answer truthfully. I swallow hard at the lump in my throat. “I studied what I was told to study.” I don’t want to talk about me any more. I’m feeling rather self-conscious.
“Hey,” he whispers, “ Emma?”
His hand brush es softly down my arm and my heart does that thing where it scarpers right through the roof, abandoning me. I dare a glance up at him, but instead of it being a quick one, he takes hold of my chin, lifting my face to his. I start blinking fast to stop the tears. I don’t understand why he’s being
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