Chapter 981: Sisterly Input
I found Sammy already waiting by the porch as I pulled up slowly into the driveway. Sitting atop the first step of the stairs, her eyes followed me with that kind of glaze, impatient look like I'm always supposed to be readily available to be at her beck and call.
"Well, you two looked like you had fun," she said, walking over to us with a funny stride that made it seem like she was scrutinizing us with every step. "Especially you. You look like you've just returned from a trip to paradise or something."
Ash hopped down the bike, Sammy's observation tugging another smile in the corner of her lips. They swapped places, and I had to keep the bike from wobbling as my replacement passenger awkwardly clambered up behind me; getting on as if she was trying to mount the saddle on a horse.
Just habit, I guess.
"Don't worry about my lunch, dinner either," I informed Ash. "Gonna go straight to Irene after I'm done sending back Sammy. I'll grab something to eat on the way back. So it'll just be you and Sera to worry about. Oh, and Adalia too if she ever shows up."
"Lady Irene?" Ash said, the slight surprise in her tone giving away the blankness of her expression. "Already?"
"Surprised me too," I said. "That's not a problem for you is it?"
"No, not at all," she answered quickly. Maybe even a little too quickly. It seemed even she thought so too. "Truly, Master. I mean it. Go enjoy yourself, as you rightfully should. Have fun."
"But not too much fun, right?" I teased.
"Not feasible."
"Not feasible?" I said. "Why? You don't think I can control myself?
Ash smiled another one of her lovely smiles, stepping forward, leaning in, and on my lips I felt a light peck, and in my ear, I heard her whisper, "Try as you may to refrain, Master. Succeed even. But simply bear in mind, should Lady Irene approach the occasion with the significance and diligence as I would have… then rest assured, she will not let you."
Quickly, she stepped away from me. In her bright green eyes, my own stricken, stiff expression was reflected back.
"Um, thanks for the warning."
"Not a warning, a reminder," she said with grace. "And so I say once again, Master… do have fun."
"Hey," Sammy tugged me on the shoulder. "Are we going or…?"
Taking that as a cue, Ash saw me and Sammy out with a bow and wave goodbye. The house was just barely out of sight when before long, my passenger decided to offer up her input, her neck still craned back toward the direction of the driveway.
"You know, that's kinda weird now that I think about it."
Personally, I think it's even weirder to suddenly say something like that and immediately expect me to know what you're talking about.
"What is?" I asked.
"That. Or whatever that was, anyway," she said, speaking a little louder as I picked up some speed. "Like, you saw the way Ash was looking at you just now?"
"Like what?"
"Like what?" she repeated back, baffled. "Like… she looked a little sad or something. You're going to celebrate your birthday, right? Why not take her?"
"Because I'm not celebrating it with her," I said. "At least not yet, not now. Today I'm going out with Irene. You remember Irene, right?"
She paused for a moment. When it comes to remembering names and faces, she's second to me at being terrible at remembering them.
"The… that detective?"
"Yes."
"The one that's a Succubus or something?"
"Correct."
"Oh," I heard her snort behind me. "Okay, right… well, it's no wonder you want to go out with her first."
"And just what's that supposed to mean?"
"Well, I mean… looking at it from some other point of view here… it kinda feels like you're putting Ash on the shelf in favor of going out with some other girl."
Ordinarily, I'm not one to be patient with this kind of talk. Put an end to it or ignore it, that's how I usually deal with it. But with Sammy… I suppose I can be a bit more patient with her.
"Is that how it looked?"
She must have caught the edge in my voice, clarifying slowly, "I mean, I'm just saying. I get that you have other girlfriends too, that you have to spend time with them too. But… I don't know… it's just weird. Actually, never mind—forget it. Forget I said anything. I don't know what I'm talking about."
I was more than happy to oblige, and indeed for a short while there, all was forgotten. But leave it to Sammy to never listen to orders, not even when they're her own.
"Okay, say for example… I start going out with someone," she mused while I meandered us through traffic. "This someone, turns out he's also dating other girls. Four, maybe five. Would you be okay if you found out I was in such a relationship? Tossed around like some toy?"
"I'm not tossing them around, Sammy," I said curtly.
"No, I'm not saying… I mean, it's just an example—"
"Bad example," I interrupted. "If you're basing this around how my relationships work, then you already got a wrong impression of it. You really think the moment I go to someone else, I stop thinking about the rest of them immediately? I always think of them. I always wish I was with them."
"Fine, alright, my bad," Sammy said. "I didn't mean it like that. It's just weird. I don't know how you juggle—not juggle—handle this relationship you got going. Like, do you love one more than the other? Do you think one kisses better than the other? If they both want a date with you, how do you choose who to go out with without the other person feeling bad?"
"Why all the questions all of a sudden?" I snorted, looking at her pensive, waiting expression in the rear-view mirror. "You're not planning on having multiple relationships too, are you?"
"As if."
"Then?"
"Then nothing," she snapped impatiently. "Just answer the question already."
"I don't know what you want me to say, Sammy. Like, I've been telling you that I love each and every one of them equally, but it's like you're not even listening. So what if I think one kisses better than the other? So what if I choose to go out with someone else? Does that suddenly mean I love that person more and the other person less?"
"That other person, the person you shot down might think of it that way."
"Then that's on me," I simply said. "If Ash, Amanda, or anyone starts thinking like that, then that means I've failed them. Broke their trust in me. In that case, I am tossing them around like toys. And if that day ever comes, then I deserve every slap in the face, every kick in the balls that a shithead like that deserves. You can get the first blow on me if you want."
"If you aren't already dead by the time I find you."
I smirked at that. "Yeah, well, I'm still breathing. Which means I'm doing alright so far. Unless you still think otherwise or something."
Two red lights and three turns at a junction later; not another word had left her lips. I'm taking that as a good sign.
"You've changed," Sammy spoke up again after a while. "Before you weren't always so… sure. You stay in your room and you keep to yourself. You were fine like that but you weren't exactly cool. Now you're—"
"Cool? I asked.
"You're a freaking stud!" she exclaimed.
"I know," I said flippantly. "Pretty cool, right?"
"No, it's weird," she said defiantly. "Now you're going out more, you have so many other things to do. Too busy for anything else. You used to have all the time in the world. Before, when I come over to your room, you're always free to hang out. Nowadays, I come visit and you're always just out, doing something else with someone else—leaving me behind with some purple ghost lady or sleepy vampire or something."
She sounds sour. I know she's trying her best to hide it, but it seems like the small little sister who always used to cling to me when we were younger was still alive and very much present.
"I get it," I said. "You're jealous."
She pinched me. Hard. With a bit of a twist to her technique too. Worth it, I say.
"You're sick," she said.
"And you're adorable," I replied, smiling through the pain. "Don't worry, I hear you loud and clear. I'll make some time for us to hang out in the future, alright? Promise."
I heard her groan, doing her utmost to make it clear she thought of my existence with nothing but the deepest contempt and disdain. But she didn't say no.
And in the language of the conceited and prideful—that's a yes.