At home, I plopped onto my bed and began to think.
Something was wrong, and someone was lying.
Eamon and Gary.
Who was it?
Eamon and I hadn’t confirmed our bond, nor acknowledged it, and yet there was the pull, the attraction, the need to be next to each other.
But Gary?
He was a clause…
now…
he was a necessity.
The intermediary?
I needed to find someone else to talk to.
Who?
Dad?
Nope.
He’d go ballistic.
Chris?
He’d rat me out in a second.
Joy?
Yes!
She should know something.
I took out my phone and called her.
“Zoe?”
A masculine voice responded in astonishment.
“Rick?”
I was stunned.
Or not!
He’s her husband, genius!
I mocked myself.
“How are you doing, kiddo?” he asked.
I could almost see him smiling.
Oh, great!
I thought.
“Is Joy there?” I asked quickly.
“Oh.” He realized that I was serious.
“She’s asleep. Do you need her help?”
“Can you tell her I called? It’s really urgent.”
That didn’t come off as rude, right?
I thought sheepishly.
I was running in circles in my mind, searching for a pit stop without luck.
“Sure, I will!” Rick was ecstatic that I called, which was rare.
“Are you alright, Zoe?” he asked, worried.
“I wish. Let her know, Rick. Please.”
“Of course!” he answered.
I hung up.
I had lunch.
After lunch, I went to the training room to train for a bit, trying to reshape my thoughts.
I realized that I’d seemed to become stronger, faster, and smarter without the usual start-ups I would do.
Conjuring things was a breeze.
Changing to my animal form felt like crossing the hallway with my hands in my pockets.
It was amazing.
Then crazy.
I thought absentmindedly as I started physical fitness and maintenance training; running on a treadmill, lifting and pulling weights, and the likes.
The day didn’t seem to drag on any longer.
“Penny for your thoughts?”
Someone spoke above me while I lay down with my eyes closed on a yoga mat after a session.
I pushed open one eye to glare at the intruder.
Upon realizing his identity, I sighed and closed my eyes again.
“Chris.”
I was resigned.
“Zoe. Are you okay?”
He was worried.
That’s a first.
Chris never worried.
He was a fighter, one who was most likely to retain his emotions in a bottle with a tight screw on it.
He usually said it kept him sharp.
That was complete bull to me, as well as everyone else, but we all rolled with it.
But I knew that deep down, Chris was a softie.
He never let it show so he wouldn’t be seen as weak by anyone.
Joy, on the other hand, was a handful of many emotions conjoined at the hip.
Predominantly happiness.
Joy was happy seventy percent of the day, and when she met Rick and got married to him, she was illuminating.
I mean, that was good for her.
Her bubbly nature almost appeared as a farce to me, to hide her still-hurting heart from Mom’s passing.
I didn’t read her mind nor search her emotions, so I was uncertain.
But now, Joy’s happiness was more genuine.
Chris was waiting quietly for an answer.