Sunday afternoon and evening was always my perfect time to stay at home and relax. I didn’t know why, but there was always a lazy feel about Sundays, and most people closed up their workplaces. Madam Monica was included in most people, so I didn’t have to leave my home after lunch, unless an emergency occurred at LightHouse.

“You’ve been in such a good mood today,” my darling brother mentioned as I poured myself a cup of evening tea.

He sat across the dining table from me, and watched me with narrowed suspicious eyes.

“What makes you say that?” I put the teapot down and reached for the sugar bowl.

“You haven’t dissed me once since morning,” he replied. “Actually, since you returned last night.”

Images of my day with Callum and riding home with him caused a huge smile to sprout on my face.

“Blegh! There’s that yucky smile again!”

I looked up and showed him my teeth the best I could and he recoiled, bringing his hands up to block the view. “The witch’s rotten teeth are actually blinding!” he cried.

I rolled my eyes. “I haven’t dissed you because you’re my darling brother and I lo...and we’re of the same blood.”

Catch me dead saying sappy words like ‘I love you,’ to this mine own.

And the dramatist started to twist and writhe his body like an undead earthworm under sunlight.

“Urgh! The witch spitted sweet acid onto me!” he wailed. “It burns! The sweetness burns!”

For a ten year old, he sure acted like a five year old with an overactive imagination.

“It’s spat, brother-mine,” I corrected him as I stirred my tea. “And you should seriously think of a career in acting.”

He gasped, his eyes wide. “Sugary names and career advice in one evening? I’ll have returned to dust by the end of the day!”

It was really hard to not throw something at him.

“Salutations, familia!” Ed’s unmistakeable voice boomed from behind me. In a matter of seconds, she stood by the table assessing its contents.

Her expectant face turned sour when she didn’t find what she was looking for. “What the hell? Where are the doughnuts?”

“And why do you always come here to eat our food?” Jerry returned.

“What a hospitable and mannerful young man you are,” Ed remarked. “You can always come to my home to return the favour.”

“My dumb sister says your birthday is soon, and I want to come to the party so I can eat all I want.”

“Who says I’m having a party?”

“Don’t you want one?”

At that, Ed turned to me. “Nkwanzi, do I want one?”

I scoffed, bringing my cup to my lips. “Who would you invite?”

“Touché,” she agreed and said to Jerry, “I’ll think about it, little man. Now pass me those cookies, will you?”

“Glottan,” Jerry said but obliged anyway.

“Glutton,” I corrected and he stuck his tongue out at me.

Ed picked a cookie but froze and her eyes went wide like she’d just remembered something. “Your mother baked these, right?”

I nodded and she let out a sigh of relief, biting into the cookie.

I knitted my brows at her odd behaviour. “Why?”

She slid into the chair next to mine.

“Remember the illegal drug sale operation I told you about?” Ed started.  “The one I said I was working on with Inspector Raphael.”

I nodded.

“Turns out that the criminals are using baked goods to sell the drugs!”

I was lost. “That doesn’t make sense. How?”

Ed sighed in slight frustration. “They’re adding the drugs as ingredients, so instead of smoking that shit directly, you ingest it within the baked food.”

My eyes widened and I put my teacup on the saucer.

“They brought in one of the buyers to the station yesterday and he was absolutely bonkers, I tell you. He’d been eating cookies infused with marijuana and we couldn’t get an intelligible statement out of him.”

“Wait,” I said, apprehension swirling in my guts. “So they’re dishing ganja out to bakeries like it’s a treat? Do they want the whole Town to get addicted?”

“It’s a black market operation,” Ed elaborated. “It means only those willing to try the goodies buy them. But it doesn’t stop the sellers from luring people like you and me.”

“Oh my God,” I said at the same time as Jerry

“That’s...awesome!” he cheered.

“No, it’s not awesome!” I reprimanded. “It’s dangerous so stay away from shady people who offer you treats, okay?”

He pouted. “Bah, you’re a bore.”

Before moving to Richard Town, my family and I lived in a place riddled with ganja smokers, despite it being illegal in the country. I don’t remember much, but I recalled snippets of lanky men gathered around pots, choking fumes filling the air, scattered injections in the street, weekly police raids on random days, yelling and sounds of things breaking in the middle of the night.

I always thought we left that place because of LightHouse but looking back, maybe that wasn’t the sole reason.

I felt afraid now. For me, and for Jerry.

The police needed to get to the bottom of this drug problem ASAP.

We spent the rest of the evening playing cards; Jerry, Ed and I. When the sun set, we decided to play the last game before Ed went home. It was amidst this game when darkness shrouded the house, courtesy of the power going out. We collectively groaned.

“Somebody light me a damn candle!” my mother hollered from the kitchen. She had been cooking.

“Jerry, go light your mother a damn candle,” I ordered.

“But the game!” he whined.

“Game’s done, now go!” I declared, putting my cards down and shuffling them together with all the cards laid down.

With a begrudging grunt, he stood from the sitting room floor.

“And just when I was going to win,” he grumbled, shuffling off.

“You wish!” Ed taunted.

“Rosie, don’t forget about LightHouse!” mother called.

“I’m heading there now!” I shouted back my reply as I gathered all the cards.

Ed helped me light two oil lanterns – one for the dining and another for the sitting room. Grabbing a torch from the cupboard drawers, we exited the house together. She turned into the street that led to her home while I kept walking to the busy part of Town until I reached LightHouse.

To my surprise, the lanterns at the front of the flat and in the front yard had already been lit. I wondered who could have done it, but then remembered the deal Callum and I had struck the previous week.

“If I make it first here before you when the power goes out, I will light the lamps. But if you make it here first before me, you can do the honours.”

My chest filled with warmth and I couldn’t help smiling. He remembered and still went out of his way to help me despite our falling out.

Excitement bubbled inside me at the thought of running into him here, and I made my way into the building. The few oil lamps in the corridor had already been lit, so I took the stairs to the first floor.

Someone was on a ladder, lighting the last lamp at the end of the corridor. But when I approached, I realised it wasn’t Callum but Inspector Raphael. I couldn’t help but feel disheartened. So he was the one who lit the lamps.

“Hey there Brownie,” Inspector Raphael’s deep voice brought me out of my thoughts.

I gave him a feeble smile and he lowered the cylindrical glass of the lamp, caging in the small but bright flame. “Thank you for this, Inspector.”

“Oh I didn’t do much,” he replied as he climbed down the ladder. “The Vaughn boy was already at it by the time I remembered.”

My heart leaped. “Callum’s here?”

Inspector Raphael faced me and nodded. “He must be down at the patio-”

I didn’t let him finish his sentence because I turned and sprinted down the corridor and practically flew over the steps.

I made my way out to the back, adrenalin pumping in my veins. I found the patio already encased in yellow light and a certain someone on a ladder that was held against a beam supporting one corner of the roof. He climbed down one step and I saw grey trousers and a dark blue sweater with long sleeves.

The lamp was right above him, so I could see him as clear as day. He cocked his head to the side of the ladder and saw me too.

An involuntary smile crossed my lips as my eyes took in his features, as if it had been forever since I last saw his boyishly handsome face.

I didn’t expect him to return my smile, which is why I was pleasantly surprised when his eyes sparkled, and his lips stretched into a toothy one as he said, “What do you know? It’s the prettiest girl in Town.”

My eyes widened at the endearment; but he wasn’t done with his greeting.

He clutched the ladder and leaned his head against it. Still keeping that starry eyed look on his face, he said, “Hey, beautiful.”

Da-dum.

It felt like flowers were blooming in my chest at just one simple endearment. My voice got stuck in my throat as I watched him climb down the ladder.

How the heck was I to reply to such an unexpected greeting?

The only thing I managed to croak out was, “Callum?” as he sauntered up to me and wrapped his arms around me.

I gasped as he pulled me close and buried his face in the crook of my neck, letting out a hum of content. My heartbeat picked up and my brain turned to mush for a moment, my body still.

What the heck is going on? What was with the sudden display of affection?

“Callum?” my voice came out as a whisper.

“That’s...” his voice vibrated upon my skin. His lips brushed up my neck and hovered at my ear. “That’s my name, isn’t it?”

It was like a thick fog condensed in my mind, stripping me of the ability to think with the actions he was making.

He withdrew himself from me and his eyes roamed my face – his sapphires that held a kind of brightness, dare I say happiness, within them.

And then he started to giggle. Yes, giggle.

“You should see your face.” He laughed. “So funny.”

My brows slowly met in confusion. “What...what’s happening?”

“Will a cookie fix it?” he inquired, grinning. “I have cookies.”

“What?”

He nodded. “They’re, uh...” he seemed to space out for a second but then brightened up, and lightly flung his arm towards the table. “Over there. They’re so tasty. You should try them.”

My earlier conversation with Ed echoed in my mind and trepidation took over my nerves. “Where did you get them?”

“From a nice man,” Callum replied with a carefree shrug. “He offered them to me for free.”

Shit.

I pushed past him and stalked to the table.

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!

I counted three cookies in the small brown open paper bag on the table and whipped my head to Callum. “How many of these did you eat?”

He was tugging at the ends of his sweater sleeves as he sheepishly smiled at me. “Two, maybe three. I know, I should have left more for you.”

“Oh my God,” I hit the table lightly as I looked back at the cookies.

Callum was acting strange, meaning he’d most definitely been drugged with these things. Which drug was it? Ganja? Opium? Just how much had he ingested? Would it cause him damage?

My hands gripped the edge of the table as fear and worry overwhelmed me.

What was I supposed to do now?

My skin tingled as a pair of hands brushed over mine, gently pressing down in a warm hold. Callum’s presence loomed behind me and his front pressed into my back as his face nuzzled the curve of my neck.

“I miss you, Rose,” he said in a low tone, and I felt that down to knees. “You have no idea how much.”

It was my willpower that kept me standing, but every part of me had turned to jelly. My heart was taken by his profession, but my mind warned me that this was all an effect of the drug he’d taken. Slowly, I turned around, but he kept his hands on the table, caging me in.

My troubled eyes met his longing ones.

“Aren’t you mad at me?” I asked.

His eyebrows met in confusion. “Why would I be mad?” he asked, and his hands moved to hold one of mine. He gazed at my hand in his, his thumbs scrolling patterns on mine. “Why would I be mad when you’re so close to me right--” He lifted my hand and placed it over his heart. “--here?”

It was confirmed – that flap of butterflies in my stomach would only be for him. My face warmed under his piercing gaze and the position we were in, but his eyes were still half-lidded, and my mind kept reminding me not to fall weak.

“But...” I whispered, “but you said we were better off if we went back to when we didn’t know each other.”

“Yes, I...I did say that because-” He looked like he was trying to recall, and pain flashed in his eyes. “Because I was hurt. Why did you use me, Rose? I’m not a puppet. I have feelings, just like everyone else.”

My shoulders slumped helplessly. “Callum--”

And then he giggled. Released my hand, shut his eyes and giggled like he’d just played a prank on me. He was messing with my emotions and I didn’t know whether to take him seriously or not.

“That’s all water under the bridge,” he declared. The brightness returned to his eyes as he gazed at me. “I’m past it, and I’m no longer angry.”

I was frustrated. “But yesterday, you ignored me and didn’t talk--”

“Yesterday?” he interrupted, raising his eyebrows. “Yesterday, I...” He looked aside as he tried to remember. “That thing happened yesterday.”

“What thing?”

He looked back at me, and his gaze was piercing. “Tell me, why did you do that to me, Rose?”

I started to feel insecure. He wouldn’t be referring to that, would he?

I cleared my throat, trying to seem unfazed. “What do you mean?”

“That thing in the hay.”

My heart started racing all over again as I recalled the accidental bump of our lips. “I...I don’t remember,” I lied.

“You don’t?” He leaned closer to me and I leaned back, gripping onto the edge of the table.

My nerves were in overdrive and it didn’t help that the drugs made him so...forward. I couldn’t understand myself either; why I was letting him trap me like this instead of pushing him away.

“We were in a certain position, I think,” he whispered, eyes never leaving mine. I could barely see the bright blue in them – only the dilated pupils that made his eyes seem dark.

His hand slipped under my arm and snaked round my waist as he stepped even closer to me so no distance was left between us.

I gulped at the proximity, but didn’t object to it. His other hand slipped through my braids, to the back of my head. I shuddered as the heat spread from my cheeks to the rest of my body.

“Was it like this?” he mused, the breath of his whisper caught by my lips. My eyes lowered to his lips – slightly thin and pink, and the scene from yesterday replayed in my brain, forming the urge to recreate it in a way that would last longer.

“You bumped...” His nose brushed mine and my eyes fluttered closed on instinct. I could feel his lips; hovering and when I couldn’t take the tension anymore, I leaned forward to welcome them.

But instead of his lips, I was met with air, and the heaviness of my shoulder indicated his head slumped against it.

A/N:

Baaaahh😝

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