Page 8 of The Witch & the Tiger

“Really?” Both his eyebrows shot up. “You wouldn’t mind helping? You don’t think I was being deceptive?”

“A lot of interactions are because we want something from the other person,” Willow said with a shrug. “Whether it’s friendship, entertainment, or knowledge… so it’s no big deal for me.”

He let out a small sigh of relief, nodding. “Well, I would love your help at some point. I suppose you must be curious about a few things.”

“Of course.”

“And I’m a little curious about you as well.”

She managed to avoid blushing this time, which felt like an achievement. Naturally, when navigating new friendships, you want to get to know the other person. Ask questions, gauge topics of interest, and determine personal limits.

The one thing she liked about getting to know someone new was that delightful flutter in her stomach, that excited anticipation to meet and talk to another person, to want to get to know them. That fluttering sensation arrived in full force since Martin presented himself as friendly, approachable, and still a little mysterious. But would he be willing to answer her questions, even the more boring ones?

“Do you live close by?” she asked. “Is that why you’re able to visit frequently?”

“Yep. Oakwend’s a thirty-minute walk from here. You probably haven’t visited it since it’s not one of the popular villages in the area.” He pointed vaguely to the south, which indeed led away from the more well-known student haunts. “It doesn’t have a whole lot going for it other than it’s a farming community. We can take a walk there when you have some free time if you want.”

“Sure, why not?” She smiled ruefully. “That seems pretty cool actually to live so close to the academy. I had to travel across the country to get here, so I live in the dorms.” She was lucky to still have a dorm at the academy in her third year, though she did pay a little extra to have more amenities.

“I miss being in school a lot, honestly. Going to a place like this gives you a sense of purpose.”

“Then why don’t you come back?” she asked before clamping a hand over her mouth. He seemed more amused than offended, however. His amber eyes twinkled, and laugh lines appeared on his face. It was a face a woman could easily fall for if she weren’t careful.

It was also a face that Willow tended to associate with those who were too charming for their own good and less willing to build a genuine connection with people. But judging people solely on their appearance didn’t seem fair.

She needed to do better.

“I want to come back eventually,” he said. “But right now, I can’t… it’s not really an option.” His eyes glazed over for a moment, making his face look oddly blank, but then he shook himself.

“Anyway, enough of me. I noticed your accent. Where are you from?”

“Minnesota. It’s a rural state, but a beautiful one.”

“Your accent is lovely,” he said, apparently unaware of how much a small, flippant compliment like that affected her. When it came from other women, it didn’t faze her. But when it came from someone like him… she paid a lot more attention.

“Nah, I sound like some backward country bumpkin. I much prefer yours. It’s… pleasant.” It was also a lot deeper in timbre than she expected. There was something about deep voices that struck her as attractive. “But we’re not here just to compliment each other on our accents, I suppose.”

“We can,” he replied, grinning. “Doesn’t have to be anything more. Or it can be something more.”

She blinked a few times at that, not sure if he was flirting with her or just being friendly. Her track record with men was not great. She’d had a few dalliances here and there, one long-term one in high school that ended when her boyfriend asked someone else to the prom and subsequently dumped her.

“You’re nice, but you’re just too boring,” he’d told her. That sentence was etched in her mind, taunting her whenever she was unsure about her future. She didn’t know where she was going. She didn’t fit in. She was boring. So, like a piece of drifting seaweed, she followed the tide and waited to see where it would take her.

“Let me know if I say anything wrong,” he added, still wearing the gentle smile that pulled her out of her negative thoughts. “I’m not always that socially adept. My friends always correct me if I say or do anything weird…” he trailed off.

“Your friends?” she asked softly, curious but not wanting to pry. She really, really wanted to know his side of things, not whatever the school rumor mill churned out.

“Yeah. None of them are around now.”

Should she ask? She didn’t want to offend or hurt him. Her curiosity got the better of her, though, and she blurted, “Your friends – they drowned?” She winced when his features darkened. “Sorry. Your sister mentioned that you’d lost friends, but nothing more than that.”

He looked away and took some deep breaths, opening and closing his mouth a few times. “Okay. I think I’m okay to tell you a little. It’s, uh…” he took another deep breath, “not easy.”

“Take your time,” she said, clasping her hands together, hoping he wouldn’t suddenly get cold feet and clam up.

“I’ll… I’ll be honest enough to let you know I can’t remember everything. I also nearly drowned myself, and I just can’t remember all the details. I just…” He rubbed the crease between his eyes as if something bothered him there. “I remember how it started. I remember where we went. But everything around what happened is fragmented.”

She nodded, not wanting to say anything to interrupt his train of thought. She’d read something about what he was describing now – how, in a traumatic situation, the mind sometimes wipes out the memories of when it happened, though it seemed he still had some memories related to it.

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