Fairy Tale (21 page)

"Thanks, Boo." He takes the small package in his delicate hands, carefully slits the tape, and pulls off the very masculine blue and gold wrapping. "Wow. Amazing."

"My parents chipped in," I say. "We knew how much you wanted it."

He had wanted a wristwatch for years. In school, they are nearly unheard of, but Cam had read somewhere that a man with a wristwatch looks infinitely more intelligent and put together. So my mother and I had decided to buy him a really nice one from Macy's. But now I'm not sure he'll use it. Still, he holds it in both hands and grins. "Thanks to both of you."

"Try it on, try it on," my mother bubbles, giving him a don't-mention-it wave.

He removes it from the package, loosens the clasp, and slides it over his bony wrist. When he closes it, I can see the gigantic gap between the metal and his skin. As soon as he tilts his arm to show it off, the watch falls to the ground and skitters across the linoleum.

"What-" my mom begins, confused. "Is the closure broken?"

Under the spell, I suppose the glossy silver watch looked just glorious on his wrist. I can remember those muscles in his arms, his powerful forearms, and those worn, big hands of his, but it's fuzzy now, which is sad, because I thought I'd know everything about him by heart forever. Part of me envies my mother's ignorance and wishes I could see the old Cam again, even if it isn't real.

"No, it's great," Cam says, picking up the watch and placing it back in the case. "Probably just needs some adjustment."

"Off to school for you," my mom says casually, giving me a shove. "I can't have yon messing with my floors anymore."

I glare at her.

She tries to glare back, but she's no good at bluffing. "Happy birthday, sweetheart," she says, handing me a card.

I grin and open it. It's a really flowery one about how I'm a wonderful daughter and have blossomed so nicely into womanhood. It's a little corny, but I wipe a tear from my eye and give her a hug. "Thanks, Mom."

That's the end of the gift giving, since the trade-off was agreed to months ago. Nice gift or big party. I'd known a car was out of the question, since I won't get my license until next year, so it made it pretty easy to decide on the party. Plus, with Cam going in on it, it sounded like a fantastic way to celebrate.

Now it doesn't seem so fantastic.

Considering the prospect of losing Cam forever or sending Pip back into a world where he'll be tortured and ridiculed-not to mention a demented fairy on the loose-tonight sounds downright scary.

"Ready for school?" Cam asks me as I finish wiping my eyes and prop the card up on the kitchen table. When he takes my hand with the tips of his small, bony fingers, I know he can't be much of a bodyguard anymore. In fact, his body is made for only one purpose, and after tonight, if all goes as planned, he won't even have that. The thought makes me feel more sad and vulnerable than ever.

"THANKS FOR SCARING me to death," I mumble to Pip when I get him alone. "I hardly slept at all last night because I was so worried Dawn would murder me."

"I'm sorry, Morgan." That's when I notice his eyes are red-rimmed. He yawns.

"You were up, too? Watching me?" I ask, thinking about the dreams I'd had when I finally fell asleep. In them, he was there with me. I'd felt safe.

He says nothing, just plays with his sleeve.

"So you were."

Were in the hallway at school. A bunch of girls walking behind us call out a happy birthday to me. I smile and thank them but quickly turn my attention back to Pip.

He says, "I told you, I want you to be safe."

I'm both flattered and a little disgusted. But it's Pip were talking about. His intentions are pure, I'm sure. "Okay. So are you going to follow me around all day?"

He nods. "Unless you don't want me to."

"I don't want you to miss class." But, then again, I don't really want to die, either.

"Okay. Well, I will check in on you throughout the day." He grins at me. His smile melts me.

By the time I leave school, Pip has checked in on me so much that he's a step away from being my shadow. And it's a good thing, too, because my brain is so scattered, Dawn wouldn't need to use magic to do me in. There's so much on my mind, I'm having trouble keeping ray balance. Tense images and fragments of past conversations float in and out: Cams bright smile after his first fairy assignment. Those horrible, horrible scars on Pip's back. His white-blue eyes, like a summer sky filled with gauzy clouds, focusing on me with complete intensity.

Cam walks me back from school, and for the first time, as we huddle under the extrawide umbrella he brought with him, I end up carrying my own books. He looked so silly, like a leprechaun toting two heavy sacks of gold to the rainbow.

"You look freaked. What's up?" he asks me as we're walking down our street.

"Just nervous about the party. I don't want to trip during our grand entrance," I fib.

He switches his bag to the other shoulder; he's having trouble carrying his own load. "You're not worried about the other thing. The plan?"

"A little."

"Pip and I will do the best we can to protect you," he whispers, his face serious. "But you know I don't fully inherit my powers until midnight. Until then, she's stronger than I am. And if you're in danger... plan aborted."

I nod, hoping it doesn't come to that. Cam is so tiny now, without magical powers, he's about as vulnerable as a newborn fawn. "Is that all you're worried about? What about tomorrow? And the future?"

He stops and looks at me; then his eyes trail away. "I don't care about that."

Liar, liar. As different as he has become, the funny thing is, I still know what's inside. I still know him.

A few minutes of silence, and we're in front of his house. "You better go take a shower and get ready," I tell him. "We're leaving here at six sharp."

He rolls up the roomy sleeve of his shirt and shows me a dozen small red blisters on the underside of his hand, like drops of rain "I think I have to skip the shower from now on."

I take his hand gently and look closer. "Are you serious? That's from water?"

"Yeah."

I quickly move the umbrella over him. If he can't even survive a rainstorm, if he can't ever take a simple shower... how will his life in this world be? "I should have bought you a bubble instead of a watch" I say lightly, forcing my grimace into smile territory before he can pick up on it.

I look across the street, where Gracie is wearing a ladybug rain slicker and splashing through puddles of water from the downspouts under the eaves of her house. "I know what you did for her," I say quietly. "For Gracie? You're her fairy god father, aren't you?"

He looks at her, and a smile spreads across his face. "Well, sort of. It's amazing, isn't it?"

"I'll say. So that's why you've been so happy."

He can't help grinning madly. It's the first I've seen a smile like that in a while. "She was so fragile. So sick. They thought she would be gone in another few days. And I visited her in the hospital. All I had to do was talk to her. And that was it." He's looking at his hands as if he can't believe the power in his own body. "And yesterday I reunited a lady with her children. They'd been kidnapped and-"

"You're going to lose those powers if you stay here," I say.

He frowns. "I know."

"You'll be miserable here."

He's silent for a moment, still looking at his hands, those smooth, dainty hands. "But I'll have you," he says weakly.

"You'll be miserable here," I repeat, putting a hand on his shoulder. "And Massif is going to kill Dawn if you stay. You care about her, don't you?"

He looks off into the distance, at nothing in particular, and takes a breath. "I know you do. You don't have to lie. It's okay."

"But I love you, Boo. And I don't want to leave you."

Holding the umbrella tightly in my hands, I come up close to him. I have to stoop a bit, but, surrounded by his big UCLA sweatshirt, which is laced with his old, familiar smell, I feel comfortable. His lips, fortunately, are no different than they've ever been, and when he kisses me, everything seems right. This seems right. But I can't shake the feeling that this kiss is our last.

I CLOSE MY eye and, for the twelfth time in an hour, try to glue a fake-eyelash piece to my lid. It slips and ends up attached to my nostril. Another tear mixes with my eyeliner and creates a black wading pool in the comer of my eye. The pancake makeup has covered the remnants of the scratch Scab gave me, but the tears keep flubbing up the artistry. If my mother knew I was crying and making myself look like an extra from
Prom Night Massacre
on the special event she's sunk so much of her cash into, she'd probably kick my sorry ass. Still, stepping back, I look like I should be rifling through garbage cans. Thankfully, the gorgeous silver strapless dress with the teal bow, and the strappy sandals, help elevate me slightly from the slums. When I'm done, I walk silently out of my room, head down, not feeling anything close to what a princess must feel like. This is not what I'd imagined this night would be. The light is on in my parents' room and I can smell my mother's perfume, so I know they're getting ready, and it'll be just moments before my mother is sounding the battle cry for us to report to the foyer for inspection. So I grab the shawl I've borrowed from my mother and, since the rain has nearly stopped, trudge across to the gazebo in our garden. All the plants are depressingly brown and sagging with rainwater, which may contribute to the fact that as soon as I get inside and close the screen door, I burst into tears.

Why did I bring up Gracie? Why did I push a confession out of him? If I didn't, he wouldn't be having any second thoughts; he'd just follow the plan. Now, he's thinking about how completely miserable he's going to be here, all because I had to bring it up. And the fact is, I know he's going to be miserable if he stays with me. I know it. And maybe I brought it up because above all, I want him to be happy. But I still don't want to be without him. I don't want Cam to leave me. Does that make me selfish?

The screen door creaks open. I expect it to be my mother, launching into a "Look at your mascara!" rampage, but instead my eyes trail up Pip's tall form, his elegant black suit and blue satin tie. I gulp when I see him standing there.

He doesn't say a word, just comes inside and sits carefully beside me. I feel his arm snake under my shawl, around my bare shoulders, and as I let my head fall against his chest, I inhale the scent that once was Cam's. Somehow that makes me cry harder. I cover my face so that I don't schmutz up his suit with my tears. Finally, I pull back and sniffle, "Oh, happy birthday."

His body trembles a little, and I know he's laughing. "Same to you."

I can't help laughing a little, too, through the tears. "The happiest,'' I say.

We're silent for a few minutes. Finally, I whisper into his suit jacket, "I guess you're wondering why I'm crying."

"I think I know."

"Everything is working against us," I sniffle. "Sometimes I think he has to leave me, that that is the only way he'll be happy."

"I'm sure he doesn't want to leave you."

"We've been together since forever. He might be able to go on without me," I sob, "but I know I can't do it. I can't be without him. He says I'm brave, but the truth is, I'm not. Without him, I'm not."

He doesn't say anything, just rubs his hand up and down my arm, gently.

I look up, and his eyes meet mine. In the gloom and shadows, I can barely see his irises; they're just black, but somehow still warm. "You have to help me. We have to convince him to stay."

He nods. "I will do whatever you say."

"I know. I love that about you," I sniffle. Though it all, I have always been able to rely on him to never go back on his word. Here I am, about to send him back to Otherworld, his own personal hell, and he's still faithful. "But why?'

He looks at the ground. "Why what?"

"Why are you so good to me?"

"Because..." he begins, and I know exactly what he's going to say.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. True love," I say, pulling the shawl tighter.

Suddenly, it's very cold. "But maybe you should stop worrying about what others want and start caring about what you want. You have to stop thinking you don't matter."

He shrugs. "In Otherworld, I don't."

"But you do! I've never met anyone so selfless and sweet in all my life!" I protest. Is it possible that only a week ago, he was this gawky little boy from another planet? Now, he's so beautiful, I have a hard time looking him in the eye without blushing. And when he's close to me, like he is now, and the only sound is the rain falling all around us, I can't seem to think of anything other than having him closer. Is it just me, or does he feel it, too? I can't tell, but he is breathing hot on my cheek, and I smell the grass, and peppermint from his toothpaste, which makes me woozy. Soon I find myself moving inexplicably toward his lips, reaching up to meet them with mine...

The screen door to the gazebo opens, and I jump clear off the bench. My mother is standing there with an umbrella, her black hair piled on her head, the collar of her black raincoat high against her ears. "Jesus, this weather," she growls to herself, and as she focuses on me, her eyes turn to slits. "There you are. I've been calling for you for twenty minutes. Let's get a move on."

I stand up obediently, wondering if my face is completely ruined.

Since my mother has us getting into the city a full hour ahead of schedule, "in case of traffic," I'm sure there will be time for touch-ups, or in my case, complete makeovers, once we get to the Toad. At least, I hope.

"Oh! Mr. Pip!" My mother's tone turns to hostess. "How nice to see you."