WATTYS 2023 SHORTLIST
Cara, a troubled college dropout, finds herself slowly falling for a handsome stranger - who turns out to be Death incarnate. But the arrival of a mysterious being puts Death's home for lost souls and his very existence at risk...
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"You're right. Gary is a saint, and I'm pathetic. Totally pathetic." The words burst out of my mouth the second that Mem rushes over to take my order. Her eyebrows quirk upwards into her hairline.
"Sorry, ma'am, we don't serve that here."
"He took fifty dollars off of my purchase, Mem." I sag against the counter, threading my fingers through my hair. "He gave me a pity discount. He probably thinks I'm homeless."
"Or," Mem says, surreptitiously nudging a chocolate chip muffin towards me, "he's a good person and wanted to properly welcome you to town?"
"I don't know..." I take a bite out of the muffin and quirk my lips to the side in exaggerated thought. Oddly enough, that hadn't occurred to me at all: the possibility of Gary just being a nice guy. Usually if something in my life seems too good to be true, that's because it is.
"You sure have trouble accepting that there are good people in the world," Mem says. Her hands fly around like frantic birds as she prepares orders for the other patrons crowded into the Nest, but somehow she still holds a conversation with me.
"Can you blame me?" I shrug. "I grew up in New York City, where everybody is either insane or an asshole. Sometimes both."
"If you haven't noticed, this isn't New York." Mem gestures to the massive Neverton Nest sign behind the counter, but I know she's referring to the entire town. "There are plenty of good people here."
"Who? You and Gary?" I tease.
"Sure." Then Mem gives me a meaningful look and lowers her voice. "Death's a good guy, too, you know."
"Oh, sure. He's nice enough."
"Are you kidding? He's a doll." I don't know why, but my stomach does somersaults when Mem says his name. I lower my face, so hopefully she doesn't notice the rising color in my cheeks.
Even though I know that there's nothing at all to speak of between Death and I, other than maybe a minor crush, it feels like I shouldn't be talking about him. Like he's forbidden. There's as much secrecy around his existence as there is about what he does in the garden behind the mansion.
But, as I study Mem and the age-old wisdom behind her eyes, it suddenly strikes me that she may be able to connect some of the dots for me. After all, she and Death are both Immortals that have presumably spent their entire lives in Neverton. They must go way back. Suddenly, I wonder if the admiration in her voice is something else in disguise.
As nonchalantly as I can, I mutter "So, you and Death...Have you ever been more than Immortal acquaintances?"
The corner of Mem's mouth quirks upwards in a sly grin, and I silently scold myself for being way too obvious. All the same, she wipes off her hands with a blue rag and says, "Are you trying to ask if we've ever dated?"
