“No, the mythical creatures.”
Mom, unbelievably, laughed. And it wasn’t even a cruel laugh. It was a genuine one.
“Mom! It’s not funny!”
“It is a little funny. And then you left, I imagine.”
“Of course I left! I can’t marry someone who believes in—in mermaids and yetis and—”
“But believing in angels is totally okay,” Mom interjected. I glared. “Hold on, hold on, hold on. Did you say marry?”
“And did you just seriously defend a man’s belief in mythological creatures?” I countered, sidestepping her question.
“I… Nell.” Mom sighed. “I just spent Christmas in a big, drafty house, all by myself. The longest relationship I’ve had since I was thirty-one lasted for four months, and I left him because he giggled when he laughed.”
“Seriously?” I didn’t remember that guy.
“Seriously. We’d talked online for a few weeks. He was another lawyer, but he lived in Baltimore. When we finally mustered up enough courage to meet each other, I did really like him. There was just… his giggle.”
“So what are you saying exactly, Mom? Theon believing in cryptozoology is the equivalent of an annoying laugh?”
There was a beat of silence. “I don’t know what I’m saying. I’m just saying that I’ve dated a lot of men, when you think about it.” She laughed mirthlessly to herself. “Considering that I’ve been single most of the past ten years, I’ve still managed to date several men, really. And some of them, you know, I really did like.”
“Really?” She’d never talked about any of them the way I could talk about Theon.
“Yeah. I really liked Noah; he was a doctor. But he was obsessed with recycling and littering and animals going extinct. And I really liked Josh, too. Josh was an English teacher—”
“Josh Baker, from Broward?” I shrilled. Josh Baker had been my English teacher freshman year.
Mom sighed. “That was the one,” she murmured. “He was really nice. But we were getting ready to move. And he was your teacher. It would’ve been complicated.”
I didn’t like the way this conversation was moving at all. I’d thought, of all the people in the free world, Patricia Fitzgerald would’ve been the one to discourage my pairing with Theon Aena of Iphras.
“So, basically, I should just shirk my standards and throw caution to the wind, like Dad.” It was a low blow, I admit.
“No. But you must really like this guy if you’re calling me about him. And I’ve never seen you really like a guy, Nell, even though you’re at an age when most girls are boy-crazy. Did you want my advice or not?”
“Yes,” I grumbled. “I want your advice.”
“All I’m trying to say is that I want something better for you than what I have for myself. There’s always a reason to say no. I could always hide behind my lifestyle, or my career, or other engagements, or family. There’s always a problem. Always an excuse. And I probably did save myself a lot of heartache. But now…” There was a pause, and I imagined her gazing out the window at the snow-encrusted landscape, beautiful and alone. “I do have some regrets about it,” she finished.
My cheeks flushed. I’d been sure she was going to support my decision, and now the room was spinning a little bit. “Well, it probably doesn’t matter. Like I said, he’s foreign. He was staying temporarily. I don’t have a phone, and I don’t think he has a phone, either, and… I can’t just stake out his place, which isn’t even his place. He’s staying with someone else while he’s here. And he’s probably already gone. And I’ll probably never see him again.” Much to my surprise, my eyes burned with hot tears. I inhaled and refused to blink, even though my vision became wobbly.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” Mom was harsh and strict most of the time; I’d rarely seen her handle my own heartbreak. I couldn’t recall feeling quite so vulnerable as I felt now, and her soft, maternal voice made me feel like a little girl again. “Maybe you can still catch him; maybe his friend will have some forwarding information for him. Don’t give up hope quite yet.”
Augh. Why did Mom have to choose this point to become the new Zada?
“Okay, Mom. Thanks. I’ll… I’ll try to see him sometime soon. Thanks for your advice. It means a lot. Dad said something like that too, but—somehow, I trust your sense a little more.”
This brought another genuine chuckle across the line. “You’re welcome, sweetheart. Merry Christmas again—and happy New Year! I’ll see you… January second, right?”
“January first,” I corrected.
“Even better. See you then, baby. We’ll get you set up with a new phone when you get here. Have a happy New Year’s, and good luck with—Theon, did you say his name was?”
“Right.”
“Hm. What country is he from?”
“Some… island.” It sounded better than, He won’t really tell me, but I don’t think it’s on Earth, actually.
“Hm. Okay,” Mom said. “Well, goodnight, sweetheart. Sweet dreams, and good luck.”
I hung up the landline and went up to my room to prepare for bed. Tomorrow would be the thirtieth. I wondered if Theon would still be here—or if he was even still here now.
I flicked on the bedside lamp and settled onto my bed. I knew it was pointless to gaze out across the beach. He wouldn’t be there. But I suddenly wished that I could look out the window and see him again.
Plucking the crystal pendant from within my shirt, I examined its milky glass against the glow of the lamp. Again, I felt tempted to call his name.
“Theon?” I whispered, wondering if he would come across the line. Wondering if his body would move across a distant light as it had done before.
But nothing came, and with a sigh of disappointment, I dropped the pendant back into my top and lay down. Who was I kidding? I wasn’t going to see him again. If he wasn’t gone already, he’d be gone soon, and I had no way of knowing where exactly to find him, except at some other girl’s apartment in Beggar’s Hole.
Chapter 28: Nell
“Are you using Facebook on the family computer?” Zada entered the den, her face coated in a dark green mud mask and her hair twisted up into a red, dreadlocked knot on top of her head. “Augh, honey, you know that when you log into Facebook, it downloads a keylogging program that will forward everything you do straight to the FBI, right?”
“Naturally,” I placated her. “On the other hand, I haven’t had any social media interaction in about a week, and if I don’t clear out my notifications, it’s going to crash my new phone when I get back to DC.”
Zada rolled her eyes. “Kids these days,” she muttered, trudging toward the kitchen.
I glowered silently. You were one of us not long ago, Zada. It’s up for debate whether or not you still are.
As much as I loathed checking my social media accounts, I needed to do it. There were messages from a few people who knew I’d be in town for Christmas, wondering what I was doing, if I wanted to hang out, and that was nice. There were pictures from the lake house party a few days ago, but I’d ducked out too quickly to be tagged in any of them. Ah, and Andrew and Michelle had changed their relationship statuses from “Single” to “In a Relationship.” A bold move. I was pleased that no sting came with the information.
I’d been invited to an event. Michelle Ballinger, of course. She was her own social hub. “You’ve been invited to Michelle Ballinger’s ‘Nell’s Going-Away/New Year’s Eve Party’ for December thirty-first, from ten pm to two am, on the beach!” I could click to accept or decline, leave a maybe, and investigate who else was going. Almost fifty people were going. Another twenty were maybe. Very few had declined… and I was screwed.
You couldn’t stand up your own going-away party, even if you didn’t ask for one—and even if it wasn’t really a going-away party. It might have seemed petty, but Michelle could be petty when she wanted to be. This was because I had shown up with Theon at the ice pond. She’d wanted to snake him from me, whic
h had always been as effortless as tossing her dark curls over her shoulder. But he had resisted, and she had not forgotten it. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.
She’d been filled with glee when Theon hadn’t been able to attend her Christmas Eve party. That’d been obvious, and she certainly assumed he’d stood me up. After all, who would choose to spend an entire evening with boring old Penelope? She was probably hoping he’d stand me up again, so she could feel smug that, at the least, she hadn’t lost a man to me; Theon had been unattainable for other reasons. If he did arrive with me, she would use the opportunity to take another swipe at him. It might sound paranoid, but I’d been friends with Michelle for a long time now. She was always conniving, and nothing excited her killer instinct like rejection—the few times she had tasted its bitterness.
In spite of all this, I couldn’t just ignore the invitation. My messages had become clustered over the past week with other former Broward students who had hoped to see me before I left town, and I would be leaving in the morning for Dulles International Airport in DC. And they’d wonder why I hadn’t gone to the party thrown by my own old best friend. They’d go to the party and ask her where I was; why hadn’t I attended? Her answer would doubtlessly be humiliating, and I wouldn’t be there to defend myself.
I had to go for the sake of what people would say about me. Augh, the passive-aggressive Facebook comments. “Wish I’d seen you for longer than two minutes; remember that men come and go, but friendship is forever!” Wink face. And then, when I returned in the summer, I’d run into these kids again. My dad would drag the entire “family” out to the country club, and the Ballinger and Hardy cronies would be flocking in force. They’d all have their comments to make. Their simpering smiles. It would be easier to just go to the party and save myself some stress in six months’ time.
I sighed and clicked, “Going.”
What the hell. What was New Year’s Eve without regret?
* * *
I examined myself in the full-length mirror across from the bed in my new room. I wanted to look good, even though I didn’t care what all the people there thought of me. I was wearing a soft pink t-shirt dress with a hem falling slightly above mid-thigh and white crocheted leggings—or were they hosiery? I couldn’t be sure. I’d gotten them on sale, though, and they were cute. A thick pink-and-white houndstooth coat made the look complete, in a retro and almost painfully feminine way. But, to be totally honest, that was me: old-fashioned and practically insulting to the modern feminist manifesto. The thought of letting my leg hair grow filled me with horror.
I turned to the side and grimaced, thinking of Michelle’s voluminous cleavage. I wished I had some.
“Hey, pumpkin.” Dad interrupted my scrutiny of my body. “Where you off to? Want a… scarf? Or a sweater? Or a pair of pants, maybe?”
I glanced over my shoulder and grinned. “I think it’ll be okay,” I said. “Michelle is throwing me a joint going-away and New Year’s Eve party.”
At this, the corners of his mouth sagged. “Oh. It’s your last night in town, you know.”
“Don’t worry, Dad. I’m only going because I have to. Michelle didn’t even ask me if it was okay. Let me just make an appearance, to minimize the blowback, you know—and then I’ll come right home, okay?”
At this, Dad smiled with genuine relief. “Okay,” he said. “That sounds good to me, doll. Thank you. I know it’s no fun to spend an evening with your old man.”
“You’re plenty of fun, Dad,” I reassured him, snatching a white cashmere scarf from out of my suitcase and swooping toward him with a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll see you in just a couple of hours.”
“Sounds good, sugar.”
As I wound the scarf around my neck and traipsed down the stairs, I sucked my lower lip into my mouth and shook my head to myself. Dad had no idea how much I wished I could stay.
* * *
The bonfire at the beach was relegated to a private strip which skirted the Ballinger residence. It was their main house in the area, and it was bigger than the lake house. In fact, they owned this entire strip of beach. It was the same size as the beach my father shared with three other residents. But their beach didn’t have any caves that might kill altruistic wanderers—probably a plus, I thought as I observed the magnitude of alcohol being consumed. There was a display table of kegs, as if this was a wedding. Idiot teenagers stumbled around in the sand, some weaving dangerously close to the two massive bonfires. I rolled my eyes even as I approached the throng. It wasn’t that I thought I was better than them—the world was filled with people, and we all had our strengths and our moments. I just didn’t belong here.
I stood on the outside of the gathering, watching my own party thrive without me. I placed my palm against the cold shard of the pendant beneath the cotton of my dress. I plucked the chain and extracted the crystal, gazing at it yet again, as if this time it might work, as if it might conjure Theon and save me from tonight. But, of course, it wouldn’t. I gazed into it bleakly, my misty breath buffeting its surface, and then grimaced, dropping it back beneath my shirt. I glanced back up at the party. At some point I would need to join in, or else I might as well have never come.
Oh, fantastic. There was the man I wanted to see.
Andrew.
He vaulted onto the beverage display and demonstrated a perfect plank on top of a keg. The maneuver was flawless, yet there was still something unsavory about the moment. Perhaps it was his entourage videoing the victory, or how proud of himself he seemed when he dismounted. He immediately went to fill a stupid red Solo cup with some more beer. Maybe my snarl was just because he’d promised me that he and Michelle were just good friends, and then they’d hooked up, and I’d had to find out on my Twitter feed while I was flying in for the holidays.
Andrew glanced in my direction and grinned wolfishly. “Hey, babe,” he greeted, breaking away from the rest of the team to lope across the beach toward me. I ambled closer to him as well.
“Hey,” I said. “How was your Christmas?”
“Fan-freaking-tastic.”
“Good. Good.” Andrew had a lot of gifts: athleticism, charm, and cunning sprang to mind immediately. Consideration of others had never been one of his strong suits. As such, he did not return the question.
“So, you look cute,” he said, looking me over. “You seeing anyone?”
Oh, God. My cheeks began to burn, and the embarrassment of blushing only made them redden faster.
“Not—” How to say it, exactly? Not really, but kind of? I faltered. “No,” I said, clearing my throat. Screw it. Let’s go with cold, steely truth. “Nope, not seeing anybody.”
“Oh.” Andrew frowned, seeming confused. Perhaps he was trying to remember who he’d thought I was somewhat dating, forgetting that it was him. “Well, that sucks. Did you hear about me and Michelle?”
I forced a smile to my face. It wasn’t that I minded; they were a much better couple than we had ever been. Simply meeting Theon had shown me that I deserved more man than Andrew’s boyishness could provide. But it was still annoying, because he had crapped on his own word to me, and now he was bringing it up in conversation. We might not have been serious, but we were still friends. I would have thought that it meant something.
“I did hear about that,” I said, my voice becoming as warm, smooth, and fake as my mother’s and Michelle’s could be. “Congratulations. You two make a gorgeous couple.”
“Yup, yup, yup.”
What kind of cad accosts his ex at a party just to brag about his hot new girlfriend, one of her own friends? Who does that?
“Oh, my God, Nell! You actually came!”
Shoot me now. It was Michelle yodeling from one of the bonfires, and then she broke away and slogged toward us through the sand. As soon as she reached us, her eyes raked over me and she smiled, throwing an arm around Andrew’s waist. “Keep me warm, baby,” she purred.
“Be careful what you wish for, tiger.” He reached down a
nd squeezed her buttock and grinned at me, as if I was in on some kind of private joke. But all I was thinking about were his words. Be careful what you wish for. They brought a fresh pang to my chest. Those were the words Theon had murmured before our first kiss.
“Oh, my God, it’s freezing over here anyway,” Michelle cried, grabbing his hand and mine at the same time, dragging both of us toward the bonfire. And the rest of the party. Augh. “Let’s get to the fire.” We were pulled into the midst of every smiling, semi-familiar face I had known from elementary to high school. A flurry of greetings and hugs were exchanged between myself and several different girls, many of them cheerleaders from our old squad—I’d been a cheerleader in middle and high school, yes—and many of their well-wishes were as fake as ever.
“So, Nell,” Michelle said, bringing every eye back onto herself. “Did you bring your mystery hunk this time? I’ve been telling everyone about him. I mean, wow.”
I broke eye contact. “Actually, I think—”
“Oh, no. Not business again? It’s New Year’s!”
“I… I think he had to travel back to—to DC,” I lied.
“Tsk, tsk,” Michelle murmured, shaking her head. Her eyes were positively glowing. “That’s a shame. You’re too good for him, anyway, Nell. He obviously works all the time, and besides, someone as good-looking as that could have anyone he wanted. He’d just end up cheating on you.”
“I take great offense to that,” a rich baritone addressed Michelle from directly behind me.
I already knew what I’d see when I turned.
Chapter 29: Nell
As I whirled to face him, his strong hands braced my shoulders, and he consumed my entire field of vision on that dark, cold beach. His curls—ebony beneath the moonlight—fretted in the breeze, and his golden eyes glowed with warmth. The light from the bonfire played across his rich complexion as his lips curved into a smile. I found myself moving into his arms, reveling in the familiar blast of warmth which moved through me, over my body and into my core.