Imagine Me

Page 27

Castle sighs even as he stands, smoothing out invisible wrinkles in his black pants. I glance over at Nazeera’s sleeping figure as I collect my things. I know, rationally, that she’s going to be fine, but she’s recovering from a full blow to the chest—not unlike J once did—and it hurts to see her so vulnerable. Especially for a girl who once laughed in my face at the prospect of ever being overpowered.

It scares me.

“Coming?” Castle says, glancing over his shoulder. He’s already a few steps away, and I have no idea how long I’ve been standing here, staring at Nazeera.

“Oh, yeah,” I say. “Right behind you.”


The minute we sit down at their table, I know something is off. Brendan and Winston are sitting stiffly, side by side, and Ian doesn’t do more than glance at me when I sit down. I find this reception especially strange, considering the fact that they flagged me down. You’d think they’d be happy to see me.

After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, Castle speaks. “I was just telling Kenji,” he says, “that he should be the one to talk to Warner.”

Brendan looks up. “That’s a great idea.”

I shoot him a dark look.

“No, really,” he says, carefully choosing a piece of potato to spear. Wait—where did they get potatoes? All I got was salad. “Someone definitely needs to talk to him.”

“Someone definitely does,” I say, irritated. I narrow my eyes at Brendan’s potatoes. “Where’d you get those?”

“This is just what they gave me,” Brendan says, looking up in surprise. “Of course, I’m happy to share.”

I move quickly, jumping out of my seat to spear a chunk of potato from his bowl. I shove the whole piece in my mouth before I even sit back down, and I’m still chewing when I thank him.

He looks mildly repulsed.

I guess I am a bit of a caveman when Warner isn’t around to keep me decent.

“Anyway, Castle’s right,” Lily says. “You should talk to him, and soon. I think he’s kind of a loose cannon right now.”

I stab a piece of lettuce, roll my eyes. “Can I maybe eat my lunch before everyone starts jumping down my throat? This is the first real meal I’ve had since I got shot.”

“No one is jumping down your throat.” Castle frowns. “And I thought Nouria said the normal dining hours went back into effect yesterday morning.”

“They did,” I say.

“But you were shot three days ago,” Winston says. “Which means—”

“All right, okay, calm down, Detective Winston. Can we change the subject, please?” I take another bite of lettuce. “I don’t like this one.”

Brendan puts down his knife and fork. Hard.

I straighten.

“Go talk to him,” he says again, this time with an air of finality that surprises me.

I swallow my food. Too fast. Nearly choke.

“I’m serious,” Brendan says, frowning as I cough up a lung. “This is a wretched time for all of us, and you’ve more of a connection with him than anyone else here. Which means you have a moral responsibility to find out what he’s thinking.”

“A moral responsibility?” My cough turns into a laugh.

“Yes. A moral responsibility. And Winston agrees with me.”

I look up, raising my eyebrows at Winston. “I bet he does. I bet Winston agrees with you all the time.”

Winston adjusts his glasses. He stabs blindly at his food and mutters, “I hate you,” under his breath.

“Oh yeah?” I gesture between Winston and Brendan with my fork. “What the hell is going on here? This energy is super weird.”

When no one answers me I kick Winston under the table. He turns away, mumbling nonsense before taking a long pull from his water glass.

“Okay,” I say slowly. I pick up my own water glass. Take a sip. “Seriously. What’s going on? You two playing footsie under the table or someshit?”

Winston goes full tomato.

Brendan picks up his utensils and, looking down at his plate, says, “Go ahead. Tell him.”

“Tell me what?” I say, glancing between the two of them. When no one responds, I look over at Ian like, What the hell?

Ian only shrugs.

Ian’s been quieter than usual. He and Lily have been spending a lot more time together lately, which is understandable, but it also means I haven’t really seen him much in the last couple of days.

Castle suddenly stands.

He claps me on the back. “Talk to Mr. Warner,” he says. “He’s vulnerable right now, and he needs his friends.”

“Are you—?” I make a show of looking around, over my shoulders. “I’m sorry, which friends are you referring to? Because as far as I know, Warner doesn’t have any.”

Castle narrows his eyes at me. “Don’t do this,” he says. “Don’t deny your own emotional intelligence in favor of petty grievances. You know better. Be better. If you care about him at all, you will sacrifice your pride to reach out to him. Make sure he’s okay.”

“Why do you have to make it sound so dramatic?” I say, looking away. “It’s not that big of a deal. He’ll survive.”

Castle rests his hand on my shoulder. Forces me to meet his eyes. “No,” he says to me. “He might not.”

I wait until Castle is gone before I finally set down my fork. I’m irritated, but I know he’s right. I mumble a general good-bye to my friends as I push away from the table, but not before I notice Brendan smiling triumphantly in my direction. I’m about to give him shit for it, but then I notice, with a start, that Winston has turned a shade of pink so magnificent you could probably see it from space.

And then, there it is: Brendan is holding Winston’s hand under the table.

I gasp, audibly.

“Shut up,” Winston says. “I don’t want to hear it.”

My enthusiasm withers. “You don’t want to hear me say congratulations?”

“No, I don’t want to hear you say I told you so.”

“Yes, but I did fucking tell you so, didn’t I?” A wave of happiness moves through me, conjures a smile. I didn’t know I still had it in me.

Joy.

“I’m so happy for you guys,” I say. “Truly. You just made this shitty day so much better.”

Winston looks up, suspicious. But Brendan beams at me.

I stab a finger in their direction. “But if you two turn into Adam and Juliette clones I swear to God I will lose my mind.”

Brendan’s eyes go wide. Winston turns purple.

“Kidding!” I say. “I’m just kidding! Obviously I’m super happy for you two!” After a dead beat, I clear my throat. “No but seriously, though.”

“Fuck off, Kenji.”

“Yup.” I shoot a finger gun at Winston. “You got it.”

“Kenji,” I hear Castle call out. “Language.”

I swivel around, surprised. I thought Castle was gone. “It wasn’t me!” I shout back. “For the first time, I swear, it wasn’t me!”

I see only the back of Castle’s head as he turns away, but somehow, I can tell he’s still annoyed.

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