Pebble (Elemental Men #5)

Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

CLAY

I sigh happily as I slot the last dish into the cupboard, then look around my tiny studio in satisfaction. Six years ago, I never would have dreamed I could have my own cozy little space like this. I was barely even able to dream of a roof over my head. But when Penny decided a few years ago that she wanted to be a homeowner, she found a cute little bungalow with a detached garage, then convinced me we should convert it into a studio for me. I’d been a little worried that she wouldn’t want to continue our living arrangement—I rented a room from her—but she assured me that while she wanted me to have more room to spread my wings, she wasn’t willing to let me go far. I’m not so sure if the last part is true or if she was just trying to make me less anxious, but either way, it means I don’t have to share an apartment with a bunch of strangers, so I’m happy.

And I love the control that my own space gives me. Everything is in order now, and the only way that will change is if I’m the one to change it. Saturday morning is reset time, when I do all the housekeeping chores and get my place ready for another week.

As always, guilt jabs at me. Saturday is one of the busiest days at the garden center, and I know Penny and the others are rushed off their feet. It’s really not fair that I never work weekends… but just the thought sends a cold chill through me. All those people…

Penny and George have both told me I need to stop worrying about it. My job isn’t to help the customers anyway, not really. I do when it’s unavoidable or if one of them asks me something directly, but the job Penny pays me for is looking after the plants and landscaping. We have other staff whose main job is customer service. It’s fine.

It’s fine .

The shine has dimmed a little from my cheerful Saturday morning, though. Determined not to waste the day off Penny so generously gives me, I try to think of what I could do to make it worthwhile. My original plan was to read the latest issues of my favorite gardening magazines, but I know that would make George laugh, and Penny would roll her eyes and tell me it’s work because I’m a gardener, and I should be doing that during work hours. It’s a long-running argument between us, but I refuse to give in. It’s enough that the garden center pays for the magazine subscriptions.

But if she was here to ask, she’d say I should be doing something fun or lazy. Her suggestions would probably include going to a busy farmers’ market or lying out in the sun, neither of which appeal to me.

So, what’s the compromise here? Something that’s not work but that I’ll enjoy.

My gaze falls—a little longingly, I’ll admit—on my gardening magazines. The one on top is California Garden , and the cover gives me an idea.

I can go to Balboa Park.

It’s going to be busy, but it’s big enough that I won’t feel crowded. I’ll get to wander through the various gardens, and Penny might still think it’s work-related, but she’ll have to agree that it’s people-adjacent and better than staying home by myself. Maybe I’ll bring a picnic lunch!

Two hours later, I’m in the Australian Native Garden, studying the banksia plants. These might be fun to sell at the garden center—they do well in this climate, and I can think of three regulars off the top of my head who’d really like them. We have a great range of native desert plants already, so we never bothered to look at Australian natives before, but maybe we should?

I’m so busy thinking about it that I almost walk into an elderly couple who’ve stopped in the middle of the path. They’re whispering to each other and staring at something, and I follow their line of sight—and then grin when my gaze snags on something else. Or rather, some one . It’s George!

Dodging around the couple, I make my way over to him. It’s a little busier here, though I’m not sure why. George is standing with his arms folded over his chest, glaring at… a tree? A rock? The air?

I sidle up beside him. “What are you so frowny about?”

Startled, he swings around—and his face lights up. “Clay! What are you doing here?”

“Enjoying my day off. What are you doing here?” I counter. Deep down, I’m a tiny bit hurt that he didn’t mention his plans—or invite me. He has to know this is basically my natural habitat.

But I push that thought aside. George doesn’t have to include me in everything he does. We’re friends, not conjoined twins. He’s allowed to do stuff without me. In fact, he probably does a lot of stuff without me.

“Just… looking at stuff,” he says, but his eyes go over my shoulder and his smile becomes a bit plastic. “I wasn’t expecting you to be here.”

My gut freezes. Is he not glad to see me? “Um… I thought it might be good for me to get out of the house,” I manage, trying not to feel as though I should be backing away. This is George . He’s my friend. It’s okay for me to say hello to him when I see him in public.

Unless… does he not want me to?

“Oh, it is,” he assures me. “I won’t keep you from your exploration. You can tell me all about it next week.”

Oh my god. He’s trying to get rid of me. Is he really that ashamed to be seen even talking to me?

“Who’s this?” a new voice asks, and a man appears at my side. “George, are you making friends? How very unlike you.” The man is almost as short as I am, with brown hair and eyes, and I recognize him from some of the videos the Conservation Kings make. He’s smiling mockingly at George, but when he turns to me, it’s a lot kinder. “Hi, I’m Perry, George’s friend.”

Oh. Oh, no. “I’m sorry, I was just leaving.” I take a step back, then another, and George reaches out.

“Wait, Clay?—”

“Clay?” Perry says. “Hi, Clay. It’s nice to meet you. Please don’t feel you need to run off. I promise we don’t bite.” He glances at George, a question very clear on his face, and it hits me like a sledgehammer that he has no idea who I am. George obviously doesn’t talk about me to his friends, and given the amount of time he spends with me, that can only mean one thing: He really is ashamed of me.

My throat closes over. “I-I-I—” I take two more rapid steps backward, wanting to flee, but before I can spin and run, I trip over my own feet and sprawl on my backside in the dirt.

This can’t be happening. I blink away tears and stare up at the blue sky above me, wondering why the ground can’t just open up and swallow me whole.

As though Mother Nature hears me, a faint tremor rumbles through the earth, just strong enough for people to pause for a moment before continuing their conversations.

“George,” Perry says warningly, and then a moment later, he squats beside me. “I’m so sorry, Clay. I didn’t mean to tease—not you, anyway. Let me help you up, and please don’t leave.”

Before I can find words—if that’s even possible—George appears at my other side, hand extended. Since I’ll probably attract more attention by lying in the dirt, I take it and let him haul me to my feet, though I avoid his gaze.

“Why don’t we start again?” Perry suggests. “I’m George’s friend and roommate?—”

“I know who you are,” I blurt, then wince at how bitter it sounds.

Perry pauses, and when he finally speaks again, his voice is a lot softer. “Okay. George, do you want to make introductions?”

“This is my friend Clay. Clay, meet Peregrine, the pain in my ass,” George growls, and I’m surprised out of my misery.

“Peregrine?” Heat rushes to my face. “Th-That’s so rude. I-I just meant…” Helplessly, I trail off. I was surprised by his unusual name. There’s no other explanation, and I’ll sound like even more of an idiot if I try.

Perry snorts and grins. “Oh, please, don’t worry about it. Trust me, when it comes to my name, I’ve heard it all. A little mild surprise is nothing.”

He’s trying to make me feel better, but I don’t know how to reply to that, so I say, “I’m Clay,” and then cringe. He knows that. George just told him. “Um, I mean…” I falter to a stop. This is awful, and I want to leave, but somehow, I can’t. Not when Perry asked me not to. It would be rude, and the last thing I want is George’s friends thinking how rude I am. Even if George is ashamed to know me, I won’t do that to him.

“What brings you here today, Clay?” Perry asks. “The beautiful sunshine?” He’s still smiling at me like I haven’t said multiple stupid things and fallen on my ass in the dirt. Maybe he’s just being nice, but the least I can do is try to be a normal human being.

“Y-Yes. Um. I-It’s my day off, and I l-like plants.” That wasn’t too bad. A little inane, but he’s not looking at me with pity or anything, so maybe it’s okay? I’m scared to look at George, though.

Mustering my courage, I say, “W-What about you? Are you enjoying the gardens?”

He nods. “Yeah, there’s so much to see here, and Aether—has George told you about my boyfriend, Aether?” It’s my turn to nod. “Great. Aether loves it. He’s got this thing for trees, and today he decided to do a video about some of the Australian natives here, since we haven’t had the chance for a trip to Australia.” He pauses. “Wait, you know about the videos, right?”

This is firmer ground. “Yes. I follow the blog and YouTube channel.” Should I say more? “I-I work at a garden center, so I love Aether’s content.” My face is getting hot again. Did that sound too fanboy? I’m not one, really. Not in the check-for-updates-six-times-a-day way.

Perry’s face brightens. “Really? He’ll be thrilled! You should come and meet him; he’s right over there.” He points over to where the older couple had been looking before, and for the first time, I notice the men with (respectively) green, blue, red, and white hair near an acacia tree. There are three other men with them, and I recognize them all from videos. All of George’s roommates and colleagues are here.

Oh, no.

“N-No, I’m sure he?—”

“He’d love it,” Perry says firmly, hooking his arm in mine and tugging me in that direction. “You work at a garden center, and you love plants. Believe me, talking to you will be the highlight of his day.”

I look helplessly back over my shoulder at George and mouth, “I’m sorry.” His face is curiously blank, and for the first time since we met, I wonder if I actually know him at all.

“Aether!” Perry calls, and the men all turn toward us. My face is so hot, it must look like a tomato, and I send up a prayer that I’ll be able to get through this without saying something foolish. “This is Clay, a friend of George’s. He works at a garden center and decided to spend his day off here in the gardens.”

Aether’s smile takes over his whole face. “Hi! Isn’t this place amazing?”

For a second, I’m frozen. Speak, dammit! “Y-Yes. I was just thinking w-we should get some Australian natives for the garden center. Um… do all acacias get this big?”

Grinning happily, Aether moves to my side and begins pointing out features of the tree, and Perry steps away.

I can do this.

I can.