Becoming Calder

  "I go around and around it in my mind out here," Xander said. "I work it like a puzzle, and it doesn't add up. So many things . . ."

  I looked away, in the direction of our spring, Eden's and mine, and said softly, "No, I question things, too."

  Xander let out a breath that sounded as if he had been storing up air for hours, years, perhaps a lifetime.

  "The irony is, I walk the outside perimeter of Acadia a hundred times a day, and I feel like a damn caged animal."

  "Why haven't you said anything to me before now? We talk about everything."

  He looked off, over my shoulder. "Yeah, I know. I was trying to make sense of it . . . or get over it . . . or something. I swear to you, Calder, I don't even know."

  I remained quiet while he ran both hands through his hair, leaving it looking like he'd just traveled through a windstorm.

  "I guess when I saw you with Eden, when I realized the risk you'd be willing to take to be friends with her, I thought maybe you might have some questions, or doubts, too."

  I paused. "Have you talked to Sasha about this?"

  Sasha was several years older than us, and already married to another worker. But along with us, she was among those who had either been born here or had come to Acadia as a baby. We hadn't chosen this life. It had chosen us.

  Xander shook his head. "No, Sash is happy. She likes her life. I think she truly loves Aaron. She's never seemed restless."

  I nodded. "Listen, Xander, the best we can do is achieve a place on the council. We can go out into the big community that way. We're not stupid. We can learn things. We'll have more choices there . . . more opportunities to find answers."

  "But we still won't have anything that's our own." Xander grimaced and looked off into the distance, muttering, "Even saying that feels wrong."

  I worried my brow. We'd always been taught that wanting anything for yourself, rather than the group as a whole, was sinful and selfish. It wasn't an idea easy for me to shake either. And maybe that was a good thing. It was all so damned confusing.

  "We don't have a lot of time, Xander. We need to get a place on that council—even just one of us—before the floods come."

  Xander looked down at his feet and finally said quietly, "What if Hector's wrong about that, too?"

  Something that felt like a mixture of dread and hope surged through my blood. What if.

  Xander's eyes met mine, and were filled with what looked to be the same thing I was feeling. "Kristi at the ranger's station told me lots of so-called prophets have foretold the end of the world, and not one of them has come true . . . obviously."

  "Hector would say Kristi's a blasphemous liar who's doing work for the devil," I said.

  Xander huffed out a breath. "Yeah. I know."

  "I didn't realize you and Kristi talked that much."

  He nodded. "Yeah . . . she's . . ." he paused, looking as if he was trying to come up with just the right word for this mysterious Kristi, "kind."

  "How old is Kristi?" I asked, just out of curiosity.

  "A little older than us. She's completed two years at the community college. She's transferring to a university soon."

  Someone slammed a door to a cabin, and even though it wasn't very close to where we stood, we both startled. I lowered my voice even more when I said, "Let's not talk about this again, unless we know we're somewhere where no one is around."

  Xander nodded. "Is it really safe to discuss this kind of stuff around Eden?"

  I thought about that for a second, certainty filling my chest. "Yes. Yes, I believe so."

  He paused. "You have feelings for her already, don't you?"

  I thought about that for a second and simply settled on. "I won't be that stupid."

  Xander nodded once. "The thing is, Calder, it's not always a choice who you develop feelings for. You're playing with fire in more ways than one. Any fool can see the way you two look at each other. And the more time you spend together—"

  "We have a history, Xander. We're fond of each other."

  "Fond of each other?" He snorted. "I'm fond of your mom, and sunsets. You are not 'fond' of Eden, trust me."

  I smiled. "Okay, so it goes a little beyond 'fond.' I'm okay, I promise. You don't need to worry about me."

  Xander studied my face and then nodded again. "Okay, brother." He started to back away. "Have a good night." And then he turned and walked off, leaving me to return home, and my mind to go over and over and over what we had discussed. What if Xander was right and Hector was wrong? What if there wasn't going to be a great flood . . . What if I had the choice to leave Acadia?

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Eden

  The next day, Calder didn't show at the spring and sadness and humiliation filled me as I walked back to the main lodge. I had ruined everything. I'd acted like a fool—a stupid, honest fool. I'd had to get away to lick my wounds. And now, I had lost my only . . . friend. Or I'd thought he was my friend. I groaned in despair and put my hands over my face as I leaned back on the inside of my bedroom door. Good job, Eden, I thought bitterly.

  I spent most of the day lost in my music—my only refuge, my only comfort.

  Later that night after I'd helped bathe Hailey's boys and gotten them dressed in their PJs, I walked back through the main room toward the stairs. I saw Maya, Calder's sister, with a stack of folded clothing in her hands opening the front door to leave and I stopped in my tracks. I smiled at her, but she blushed, lowered her eyes, and ducked out the door before I could say anything to her. Gods above! Calder didn't tell her about yesterday, did he?

  I walked up the stairs slowly, my heart heavy.

  When I stepped into my room, I immediately saw the dark clothing item lying at the end of my bed. I stopped, confused. I picked it up and then looked back over my shoulder nervously, then closed my door. I held up the hooded cloak and simply stared at it for a few minutes, biting my lip. I had seen the workers wearing cloaks like these in the evenings sometimes.

  Was I meant to wear it? The hood would certainly hide me, especially if it was dark. Could I wear this and dare walk out among the workers? I felt exhilarated. Maya had left this for me. Had Calder sent it with her? I sucked in a breath. Maybe he wasn't mad at me. My heart picked up speed and I brought the cloak to my chest, holding it tightly as a slow smile spread over my face and I let out a small squeak.

  The rest of the evening went by at a snail's pace as I waited for it to grow dark and for Hailey to go to bed.

  Once the main lodge was mostly quiet and the night sky was deep and black, only the sliver of a new moon showing, I crept down the stairs and through the front door, closing it quietly behind me. Once I had made it around the main lodge, I put the cloak on, tucking all of my hair inside and pulling the hood low over my face. Then I walked briskly toward the worker cabins where several bonfires lit the night.

  As I walked unnoticed for the first time since I'd come here, I took in all the sights and sounds around me. People sat around three main bonfires in the large, open area in the center of all the cabins. There was soft laughter and conversation and I heard small portions of stories people were telling as I walked past. I wished I had the nerve to sit right down with them and listen in, but I didn't want to risk anyone noticing me. Just walking around like I was—feeling free and anonymous—was thrilling. I took a deep breath of the cool, slightly smoky air.

  At one of the bonfires, a man was singing softly, his voice deep and melodic as everyone around him sat quietly and listened. I stopped for just a second, lulled by the peaceful sound of his low voice, wishing I could play the piano while he sang. I felt the keys under my fingers, finding the notes that would accompany the melody he sang.

  Suddenly, a hand grabbed me, and I almost let out a shriek as the person began walking and I was forced to move with him, stumbling slightly.

  "Shh, it's me," I heard Calder's voice say. My heart soared. I'd know that voice anywhere. I'd know that voice in the midst of a thousand clanging symbols, or i
n the deep darkness of a never-ending cave. It moved inside me.

  I let out a breath and picked up my pace. "Where are we going?"

  "You'll see." I could see his gentle yet mischievous smile in the dim glow of a nearby fire and his beauty slammed into me. My heart flipped. I wanted to groan and raise my face to the gods, calling out, "Why? Why did you make him so beautiful to me if I can never have him? Why? Why? Why?"

  Calder picked up the pace and soon we were running, the breeze blowing in our faces as I laughed out loud, feeling wild joy in the moment. My lips had been on his, and it would probably never happen again. But I had lived it, even if only just once, and if that was all I ever had, I would hold it dearly, deep inside where no one else could ever take it from me.

  We stopped, our breaths coming out harshly as we stood in the darkness. I looked around and saw we were right on the edge of the fruit orchard.

  "Why are we here?"

  "Our lesson of the day. Come on." He took my hand in his again and we walked through the fragrant, moonlit trees. The perfumes of the earth—the soil, the grass, and the sweetly scented air—surrounded us. Calder's hand held mine—gripped me tightly—spreading warmth through my body.

  This. This was Elysium—not some far-off, fathomless place. This.

  When we got to a small clearing in the trees, Calder sat down on the grass and I followed him. He lay back and pointed up. "Look."

  I lay back, too, and sucked in a breath when I saw the stars, clear and brilliant in the dark night sky, glittering above me. "They're so clear," I whispered.

  I felt Calder nod next to me. "This is far enough away from the main lodge's electricity and far enough from our bonfires. Plus, it's a new moon . . ."

  We lay in silence for a few minutes, looking up at the sky full of glowing stars. I cleared my throat. "You're going to teach me about the constellations?" I asked.

  "Yeah. What I know, anyway."

  I nodded, looking over at him. The starlight provided just enough light that I could see Calder, mostly in shadows and highlights, but enough to notice his expression.

  "So . . . you're not feeling strange about yesterday?" I asked softly.

  He paused and I held my breath. "You mean the kissing?" I heard the smile in his voice. "I've barely given it a thought."

  I snorted. "Well, gosh, that makes me feel so much better."

  Calder laughed, turning his face toward me. I turned my face toward his and we looked at each other. An amused expression was still on his face before he went serious. "Can I be honest with you, Eden?"

  I groaned, looking back up at the sky. "This is going to get worse, isn't it?"

  Calder chuckled. "No." He sighed and was quiet for a few beats. "In the course of a few days, life seems to have become complex. The simple part is this," I looked over at him, and he glanced down at my lips and then seemed to catch himself as his eyes darted back to mine. He cleared his throat. "If I were just a boy, and you were just a girl, I wouldn't kiss you once like you asked." He paused and my heart dropped. Oh.

  "Eden, I'd kiss you long, and I'd kiss you often."

  Oh. Oh. I blinked and sat up. "That's supposed to make me feel better?"

  Calder released a laugh on a breath, sitting up, too. "No. But I want it to be clear what we're dealing with here. We're attracted to each other. I admire you, and I like to be with you. I want to be your friend. But, Eden, nothing can ever happen between us. It's just the way it is."

  I felt stung, angry, and bitter, the joy I'd been feeling just a few minutes earlier, fading. "My destiny," I bit out.

  Calder paused, furrowing his brow and running one finger absent-mindedly over his bottom lip. "I don't know about that. All I know is life as we know it would be over for us if we gave in."

  "Right. Thank you for being honest with me. I admire you, too, Calder. You're very . . . obedient." I felt angry. Angry with Calder? Angry with the gods for bringing me here and putting me within arm's length of this incredible boy? Why?

  Calder furrowed his brow and then cleared his throat as he looked away. I suddenly felt guilty. I had meant it as an insult and he had taken my statement in the vein it had been said. In truth, I was just hurt and filled with bitterness at the unfairness of my situation. And here Calder was, a boy, practically a man, who was trying his very best to be honorable, to be my friend, my only friend.

  "I'm sorry," I said. "That was unfair."

  "It's okay. I am obedient. I like to think I'm obedient to the gods, even if Hector is prone to the same mistakes or misinterpretations any human being could be. I like to think I'm obedient to this community, to the needs and happiness of others here. What would happen, not just to me, but to this community, if it was known I was cavorting with Hector's soon-to-be bride?"

  "Cavorting? You make it sound so tawdry." Hector often used that word. He said sinful actions were like cavorting with the devil.

  "It would be wrong. Just meeting like this . . . it's as far as it can go."

  I was silent for a good minute, mulling it over in my mind. Like the day before when I'd kissed him, all I wanted to do was leave, run. He knows how I feel about him. Is he just being nice here to avoid hurting my feelings? "Yes, I suppose you're right," I said, feeling defeated.

  Calder turned toward me. "My point in being honest with you about my attraction to you is I think it's better if it's out on the table, so to speak. We need to tread carefully, here. I want to be your friend. But not to the detriment of our entire community and not to the detriment of our own hearts . . . and our own dreams."

  Truly, my heart was already his for the breaking, and breaking it was, but I nodded my head anyway. I knew he had dreams for his own life. And he was risking those just by meeting me like he was, most definitely by teaching me things. If anything, it made my admiration for him stronger. How could I ask him for more?

  We were both silent for another moment. Calder watched me in the dark. "The portrait was beautiful," I finally said. "Nothing squash-like about me at all." I had unrolled the paper the night before and my breath had caught in my throat at the absolute beauty of the picture. Did I really look like that? Hector had told me since I was a child I was beautiful and angelic. But something about the way Calder had drawn me made me look powerful and strong, the look on my face sure, confident, even serene as I gazed upward.

  Calder laughed. "If only you were just a little more squash-like, this whole situation would be easier for me to bear."

  I held back a grimace. If this was going to have any chance of working, he couldn't flirt with me.

  He seemed to read my mind as his expression became serious, cleared his throat, and lay back down. "So, speaking of squash, our lesson today is going to be on the stars."

  I raised an eyebrow. "What does squash have to do with the stars?"

  "Oh, you've never heard of the constellation, Squasharius?"

  I laughed and it felt good. "I swear, Calder Raynes, if you're teaching me all kinds of things I'm going to have to un-learn later, I won't be happy."

  Calder laughed. "Okay, so maybe there's no Squasharius." He was quiet for a minute. "Did you know that when you're looking at stars, you're actually looking back in time?"

  "How's that?" I whispered.

  "Because the light from a star takes millions of years to reach the earth. So, for instance," he pointed upward again to one tiny, blinking star, "that's actually what that one looked like thousands of years ago."

  Something about that seemed magical to me and I decided not to try to wrap my mind around the science of it. "It's like I can imagine the gods up there, somewhere behind all those stars, looking down on us right now." I paused. "Can I tell you a secret though?" I brought my voice down to a whisper.

  "Anything."

  "I only pray to one of them." I blushed, even though he couldn't see my face. Saying that out loud, despite the fact I read hours and hours of the Holy Book on all twelve deities every single day, felt blasphemous.

  Calder tur
ned toward me. "Which one?" he asked, surprise in his voice.

  "The God of Mercy."

  "Why him?" The tone of his voice was gentle.

  I considered his question for a minute. "Because . . . I just figure there's not much that grace and mercy can't fix. And I guess I figure that he . . . he cares the most about what happens to us. Or maybe he's able to love us despite how much we mess up, how imperfect we are, and how much we want what we shouldn't want," I finished quietly.

  We were both quiet for a few minutes.

  "Then he has the hardest job."

  I breathed out a small laugh. "Yes. I always imagine that when I get to Elysium, I'm going to find him first."

  After a minute, Calder asked, "What would your own dreams be, Eden, I mean, if it wasn't your destiny to marry Hector?"

  You. You're my dream.

  "I don't know. To see the world, like you, I guess. To know what might be out there for me. If anything at all."

  "Are you proud of being chosen?" he asked softly.

  I thought about that for a minute. "There's no sense of satisfaction in something you didn't do anything to achieve," I answered.

  Calder turned toward me. "But obviously the gods see something in you maybe you don't even see in yourself. You were chosen by them because you have a beautiful, brave heart."

  I laughed softly. "No, it can't be that."

  "Why not?"

  "Because it's my heart that makes me want to deny my so-called destiny."

  It's my heart that wants you to be my destiny.

  Calder remained quiet, seeming to think about my answer.

  "What's that one right there?" I asked, pointing at a bright star all by itself on the edge of the sky.

  Calder turned back over onto his back and looked to where I was pointing. "I don't know."

  "Maybe you can ask someone tomorrow."

  "I won't be able to see it tomorrow to point it out." He smiled.

  "Hmmm, I guess the stars teach us things, even from a thousand years ago."

  "What do the stars teach us?"

  I paused for a second. "That some things are seen more clearly in light . . . and some things are seen more clearly in darkness."