Destined (13 page)

All she wanted was to see Caleb. She desperately missed him, now more than ever, with every pore of her body. She had imagined herself coming out tonight, walking right into the ball, and finding him right away. These drinks, these games, this dinner—it all felt like a distraction. It was prolonging her from seeing him. She started to grow impatient.

“So when does the dance start?” Caitlin asked.

“Oh, never before midnight,” Polly said casually, as she took another sip of her wine.

Midnight
, Caitlin thought. She looked across the room, at a huge grandfather clock, and saw that it had just struck nine.

She was in for a long night, indeed.

*

Caitlin was slumped in her chair, feeling lightheaded from the endless glasses of wine, from the nonstop, hysterical laughter from every direction, from dish after dish landing in front of her. It was a hedonistic feast unlike anything she had ever experienced. She could hardly believe that this was all just the
warm up
to the night.

She observed everything carefully, so curious about how people acted and what they talked about, in 1790. She concluded that a dinner party was a very, very different experience. Everyone here really engaged each other, valued each other’s presence, was engrossed in conversation. No one was on cell phones; no one was texting; no one was checking their voicemails or Facebook page. No telephones rang; no electronics buzzed. And soft candlelight took the place of electricity. It was all so much more relaxed, more slow-paced, more civil. No one was in a rush; everyone seemed to have all the time in the world. Maybe that was what happened, she figured, when you took technology away.

And yet, it was not unsophisticated: the China, the crystal, the silverware, the elaborate dress, the gourmet meal, the vintage wines…It could have been like something out of a gourmet restaurant of the 21st century.

At the same time, they didn’t seem to have a great regard for their health. Had they ever heard of cholesterol? They drank and ate as if there were no consequences, as if they would all drop dead tomorrow. And she assumed that most of these people had never seen a gym—or even knew what that was. It was baffling.

As Caitlin slumped further, absolutely stuffed, her eyes began to close—and suddenly, the clock rang out.

Everyone stood, and Caitlin realized the large clock had struck midnight.

As everyone got up, a set of double doors opened on the far side of the room, leading to a ballroom.

Caitlin got up with the others, Polly taking her arm excitedly, and they all hurried, with the crowd, towards the ballroom. More and more people flowed in from all the rooms, and within moments, the massive room was completely filled.

This huge room was much like the others: it boasted a black and white tiled marble floor, a massive fireplace, chandeliers filled with burning candles and gold mirrors on every wall, reflecting the light, making this immense room seem even bigger than it was. Hundreds of people were already in it, and more and more poured through the doors. The room was so wide, Caitlin could hardly see the other end from where she stood. She craned her neck, searching for Caleb, but it was no use.

There was a sea of bodies, and, besides, they were all wearing masks.

Caitlin was nervous as the music began. Mozart sat at the far end of the room, on a small dais, and began playing the harpsichord; as he did, cellists and violinists joined in. It was an upbeat, formal waltz.

Everyone in the room knew what to do. Everyone, that is, but Caitlin. She stood to the side, feeling like an idiot, as everyone lined up perfectly on either side. She looked for Polly, nearly losing her amidst the throng, and hurried to her side.

“Don’t worry, it’s an easy dance,” Polly said. “They always start with easy ones.”

The entire room moved in perfect synchronicity, holding their arms out to the sides, taking one step forward then two steps back, half turning to the right than half turning to the left. Caitlin tried to follow, and as she did, she’d never felt so clumsy. She’d never been a good dancer, and she had no idea what kind of dance this was. Her one saving grace was that the tempo was slow enough for her to catch up with the others.

Caitlin again scanned the crowd, hoping for a glimpse of Caleb. But with all the costumes and masks, it was impossible to even tell who was really male or female. Occasionally, long hair sprawled out the back, and that made it easy, but some women wore their hair tucked in, covered up by a high collar, and dressed in men’s clothing. And some men, Caitlin noticed, strangely enough, dressed in gowns; she could only tell they were men by the muscles in their calves. She had never imagined that there would be any cross-dressing in this century. Was there anything off-limits?

Caitlin was just beginning to get the hang of the song, when suddenly the music stopped.

Mozart, with a loud laugh, suddenly started a new one, this one with a much faster tempo.

A new dance began. A set of four lines formed on opposite sides of the room, and the room paired off, grabbed each other, and waltzed in wide circles throughout the room.

“My God, there he is,” Polly said, watching Robert dance across the room with a buxom blonde.

Caitlin looked, but couldn’t see what she saw in him.

Patrick came hurrying over to Polly, pulled back his mask, and smiled. He held out a hand.

“A dance?” he asked, hopefully.

He blocked Polly’s view of Robert, and she craned her neck, annoyed.

“Maybe later,” Polly said.

His smile dropped, as he slinked away.

“I have to try to get a dance with him,” she said, and headed off into the crowd for Robert.

Caitlin stood there, feeling more alone than ever, and nervously scanned the faces again. This was not going as she had imagined at all. A blur of masks passed in front of her, one after the other.

How could she possibly hope to find Caleb? As she tried to picture his face, it became harder and harder. She began to wonder if she ever even knew him at all. She felt a pit in her stomach, as she began to despair that he had never even survived the trip.

Caitlin tried to center herself, to use her senses. She closed her eyes and breathed deep, trying to shut out all the music, and noise, and movement. As she felt herself getting jostled, she tried to ignore it, to focus on Caleb. She took a deep breath, hoping she could somehow sense his presence.

Deep down, she felt she would just
know
if he were in the same room.

“Caitlin?” suddenly came a man’s voice.

Caitlin opened her eyes excitedly, her heart soaring.

Before her stood a man with elaborate green mask, and he broke into a smile. Had it worked?

Caitlin broke into a smile herself, hoping.

But when the man threw back the mask, Caitlin’s heart broke.

Infuriatingly, it was Tyler.

The same old Tyler. After all these centuries, still trying to pick her up. “May I have this dance?”

he asked.

Caitlin was annoyed. He had ruined her moment.

“No,” she snapped, and turned away.

She saw his face fall in disappointment as he walked away.

She suddenly felt bad. She shouldn’t have been so harsh with him. He certainly didn’t deserve that; after all, he only asked her to dance, and it wasn’t his fault. But he had caught her at the wrong moment. And now she felt even worse.

As Caitlin scanned the room, she began to despair. She didn’t see how she could ever find Caleb in this place. And clearly, her senses weren’t helping her. There was too much going on, too much getting in the way of her focusing.

The music changed again, and the room transitioned into a new dance, one in which couples danced with each other, then switched off, each person dancing with someone new every few steps.

As Caitlin watched it, she realized that was what she needed to find him. She had to join in, to sweep the entire room, to dance with as many people as she could. Just standing there was doing her no good. She needed to hold hands with as many people as she could. She knew, she just
knew
, that if her hands actually touched Caleb’s, there was no way,
there was no possible way
, that she could not know.

Determined, Caitlin hurried out onto the floor with a new passion, grabbing the hands of the nearest partner, following the three-step dance clumsily, then switching off when everyone else did, and grabbing the hands of another.

The hands she grabbed were sweaty, and she could smell the alcohol coming out of their masks.

She danced and danced, finally getting the hang of it, switching off to so many people so quickly, that finally the room began to blur. At one point, she didn’t even know if she had danced with a woman by accident. Everyone just kept switching off, faster and faster, as the music picked up. She danced from one side of the room to the other—again and again and again.

Always, it was a new hand. A new shoulder. A new spin, a new partner. Short ones and tall ones and skinny ones and fat ones. Each new person had an even more elaborate mask; some were funny and made her laugh, while others were sinister.

But still, no Caleb.

Finally, the music stopped. Caitlin, exhausted physically and emotionally, stopped to rest in a corner of the room. As everyone took a breath, she pulled back her mask and wiped the sweat from her forehead, breathing hard, as it was getting hot in here.

“May I request the pleasure of a dance?” came a voice.

Caitlin spun, hoping.

But it was not Caleb—she knew that already from the voice.

No, it was Robert. The Duke.

He was the
last
person she wanted to dance with. Not only because he was arrogant, but more importantly, because Polly liked him.

He stood there, facing her, cheeks red from too much wine, and with a ridiculous white feather protruding from the back of mask, climbing several feet into the air.

This time she would be more tactful.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “but I’m taking a break.”

His face reddened. “How dare you! Would you really dare to turn down a dance with me? Don’t you know who I am? After all, you are just a commoner. You’d be well advised to accept my offer—

while it lasts.”

Despite herself, Caitlin broke into a laugh. It made her realize the stark difference between the 21st and 18th centuries, the class lines that still existed. This man needed a good dose of her time.

Now she was mad.

“I wouldn’t dance with you if you paid me,” she said coldly.

The man’s face scrunched up in indignation. He stormed off, stomping his feet. He had probably never been spoken to that way in his life.

Good
, Caitlin thought.
It was past time that he had
.

Caitlin needed some air. It was so stuffy in here; not a single window was open, and the hundreds of moving bodies created a tremendous heat.

She began to cross the dance floor, and as she did, a new song started up, a slower, more romantic one. Partners again began pairing off. Caitlin tried to ignore them, to brush past them, but it was another switching song, and partners didn’t ask. People grabbed whoever was on the floor, danced with them for several steps, and let them go, and Caitlin felt herself being grabbed and spun.

There was simply no way around it.

She gave in, deciding that she would just dance her way across the room one last time, and then head for the exit. She switched from one partner to another, grabbing hands and letting go.

And then, it happened. As her hands touched those of her final partner, an electric shock ran through her body.

His hands, his energy. She felt it from her head down to her toes.

She looked up at him carefully. He wore a mask, a proud, golden mask of royalty, and she couldn’t see his eyes. But her body told her.

She became breathless. The entire room stopped around here.

It had to be Caleb.

But as she opened her mouth to speak, a random dancer pulled her away, grabbed her and spun her in the other direction. At the same time, another dancer grabbed him away, and spun him in the other direction.

Caitlin tried to yank herself away, but he was too heavy and strong. By the time she managed to disengage, she was already halfway across the room, looking desperately for Caleb. She scoured every which way, looking for that golden mask, but he seemed to be gone, lost in the sea of bodies.

Frantic, Caitlin hurried through the room, shoving anyone in her way, absolutely determined to find him.

She did it again and again, crisscrossing the entire room, from one exit to the other.

Finally, after almost an hour, she was exhausted. He was nowhere to be found. If it had been him, he was gone.

Or had she imagined the whole thing?

Caitlin bent over, removed her mask, and breathed. She couldn’t stand it. It was too much.

She ran out the nearest door and then kept running, through the lobby, and through another door.

Finally, she was outside, on the square, gulping in the fresh air. She removed her mask and felt overwhelmed with emotion.

She cried and cried and cried.

*

A bell tolled, and Caitlin looked up at the giant clock tower, on the opposite side of the square, and saw that it was four A.M. She couldn’t believe how late she’d been out. If she had been home, in modern times, and it had been a school night, her mom would’ve killed her. Here, no one cared.

There had been many teenage girls in that room, and there were still many of them hanging out here in the square, at four in the morning.

Caitlin was exhausted. She just wanted to go home, to go back to Polly’s Island, and crash. She needed to sleep, to clear her head, to formulate a plan for finding Caleb—if he was even alive. She had been foolish, she realized now, to expect to find him in that ball. Even if that had been him, it clearly he was now gone for good.

She needed to go back in there, find Polly, and ask her if she was ready to go. She hoped that she was. The last thing she wanted was to wait here for hours more until Polly was ready to leave.