Fairy Tale (23 page)

Dawn is nowhere in sight, or else I'm sure the male half of the student body would be crowding around her. And normally, Cam would have stood head and shoulders above everyone. Now, he's completely lost among the bodies. At least, to me he is. "Eden, do you see Cam?" I ask.

She's giving me a "duh" look in the light of the strobe. "Yeah, right there. You need to get the prescription on your contacts checked."

She points toward the DJ, and I still can't see him, so I move forward a little, until I catch John and some of his other football buddies, standing together on the edge
of the dance floor. They look as if they're standing beside a swimming pool, testing the water, deciding whether to jump in. As I move around the bodies, I finally notice him, looking so small and delicate next to the big boys, it's scary. One of them could step on him, squash him, and barely notice.

"Perfect," I say, then break into the crowd. "John, you know Eden. Eden, this is John. Go dance."

They look at each other for a moment, and then John shrugs. Eden shrugs back, and they're off. This is how some of the greatest matches in the history of the world were made, I'm sure. I'd expect them to name their first child after me if I weren't now so certain that my vision of her talking to her Precious Moments figurines was right.

Cam flashes a hollow smile up at me, looking nervous. Who can blame him? At the stroke of midnight his life is going to change forever. "Having fun?" I ask.

"Yeah. You?"

"We need to talk " I say. "Badly."

"I know."

The words are still coming out of his mouth when my mother taps me on the shoulder. "There you are, hon!" she says brightly, though I can tell it's just her hostess's cover for massive annoyance. "We've been looking all over for you. We'd like to get some pictures. Come along."

I give him a worried look as she pulls me away. A group of girls immediately surround him, asking for a dance, though every one of them is nearly twice his size. He moves between them and mouths the words, "Back balcony. Eleven-thirty?"

"Okay," I say, wondering if thirty minutes is going to be enough to sort this all out. I needed more time than that to pick the napkins.

MY MOTHER GETS me in every conceivable pose suitable for a sweet sixteen, every one of them increasingly corny, like holding a rose, fixing my hair, and her famous "Look back to yesterday," where I have my hands on my hips, head turned, and am glancing over my shoulder. I never should have let my father buy that digital camera for her birthday last year. I complain that I'm missing out on my own party, but she keeps saying, "One day you'll look back at these pictures and thank me." Maybe, if I haven't burned them by then.

Finally, I break free, and my mother calls after me, "Don't forget to go around and thank everyone for coming."

I groan, thinking that will take all night, but she's right; I would feel guilty if I didn't talk to everyone I've invited. So by the time I make the rounds with my fake smile, "Thank you for coming!'' has been forever tattooed into my psyche. I've managed to snatch only one bacon-wrapped scallop all night, but as I'm heading over to the buffet line, someone taps me on the shoulder.

"Thank you for-" I begin like I'm on crack, desperately salivating for a chicken finger. But at that moment I'm staring right into Pip's blue eyes. I look away and mumble "-coming."

He's standing with hands in pockets, eyebrows raised, looking very relaxed, considering what's coming tonight. The room is warm, but I find myself shivering. He says, "How are you?"

"Fine," I say. "Did you talk to Cam?"

"Everything is still on plan."

My posture stiffens. "Listen, about that... I may have been wrong. I think Cam is meant to be in Otherworld."

He shakes his head. "No. I spoke to Cam. He wants to be with you."

I didn't realize Pip could be that persuasive. "Then we need to talk to him, to tell him-"

He puts his hand out for me to stop. "There is nothing to tell him. He is positive he wants to stay with you."

"No, you don't get it. It won't work. My visions are always right. The one I had of you walking in leaves-it's right. So the plan will fail. We should just give up now, before Dawn does something that-"

He shakes his head. "You're letting your visions guide you again?"

"No, you don't understand. I want..." I begin. How can I tell him? Here he is, ever so willing to go back to Otherworld, his own personal hell. He never fought it, despite what Dawn said about him being infatuated with me. Is it just because I asked? He's so willing to do whatever I say, just because I ask it of him? So why doesn't he fight? If he cares about me, why is he so willing to leave? My throat closes.

We stand there awkwardly for a moment, and finally he leans in and says, "I was wondering if you would dance with me."

It's only then I notice we're on the dance floor. "You know my track record with that," I mumble, even though something in me wants desperately to feel the warmth of his arms around my body.

"No tango, then. You can choose."

It feels very fairy tale to me, like everyone in the room has disappeared and it's only him, extending his hand out to me. I guess if this were a fairy tale, I'd know more dances. But as it is, I shrug and say, "Okay. Hug-and-sway."

He raises his eyebrows. "Hug-and...?"

"Trust me, you'll get it."

I pull him to the center of the floor and place his hands around my waist. Then I put my hands on his shoulders, so that there is still a nice, respectable distance between us. Though Evil Morgan wants to pull him against me, I control her, since she would have gotten me into
so
much trouble by now. "Now we just sway," I instruct.

"I see," he says, as if it takes more than two brain cells to master. "Like this?"

"You're a natural," I say. Now that we're this close, I have trouble looking him in the eye. I inch my gaze up, to stabbing blue eyes that obviously have no problem meeting mine, then decide it's too risky and focus on the next-best thing, his nostril. Nostrils are not at all sexy. But his, perfectly round, without a trace of nose hair, kind of is...

And yet, still I find myself tightening my grip around his neck, moving nearer. I feel the stubble of his chin against my cheek and his breath in my ear. I don't want it to stop, ever, so I rest my head on his shoulder. It's so comfortable, as if I belong there. How can he not feel this, too?

But that's when I open my eyes and focus on Eden. She's standing just a few yards away, in her own hug-and-sway with John, but they're completely still. Gaping at me. Eden mouths, "What the hell are you-"

I snap my head up and pull away from him. "You're leaving tonight," I squeak out, my lower lip trembling. He nods, confusion dawning on his face, and tries to pull me toward him. "I know. We're just dancing."

Is that all were doing? Why does it feel like so much more to me? And why doesn't it to him?

"Why do you want to leave me?"

It's only then I notice a fresh outbreak of tears on my cheeks. Pip puts his palms out in front of him to stop me. "Okay. Shh. Calm down."

A tingle runs down my neck. I push on his chest and say, "I've got to go," then hurry out to the lobby, my lungs burning for air. It's only 11:15, but when I run out to the balcony, I gasp like a baby taking its first breath.

The rain has let up, and the moon is peeking through a small, square cutout of clouds. Out in this silver light, it's finally peaceful. The balcony is encased in gleaming white marble, and climbing along every inch of the walls is ivy. There are giant stone fountains filled with white chrysanthemums, and I think that if I hide behind one of them, I might never have to go back inside.

"I'm sorry. Did I do something wrong?"

Pip is standing next to me. I've been so busy trying to catch my breath, I'm not sure how he got here. "Go away. Just..."

I expect him to turn and leave, tail between his legs, as always. But instead, he stands firm. '"No."

I look up at him. "What?"

He's not listening. He's staring at the ground, the dumb guy, totally ignoring me. Before I can grab him by the shoulders, turn him away, and shout, "March!" he says softly, "Those thoughts you were having. The ones you talked about last night. Were they about me?"

I freeze, then hug my shoulders. "No, I-"

"Because I've had some about you."

I'm still trying to come up with something, other than him, that those thoughts could have been about, so I don't quite hear him. "Really?"

"Actually, more than some. Every night, even since before I left Otherworld. Every night," he says, shaking his head. He puts his finger to his temple and says, "It's like you've been in here forever."

My heart begins to beat wildly as I realize that, yes, that's exactly how it feels. It feels like I've known him just as long as, if not longer than, I've known Cam. How is that possible?

"Then why are you so willing to leave me?" I ask.

He sits beside me, a grim smile on his face, and touches my arm. "You think I want to leave?"

"You never fought against it. You just accepted it so easily. Too easily."

The moon disappears, and a thin drizzle starts, casting an eerie fog over the balcony. I turn toward him, and his eyes are molten, intense. I can barely recognize that look. Things have always been a controlled blaze for Cam and me; the fire has never burned beyond that. Not like this. Not so that I feel every hair on my body standing on end, not so that I forget where I am, who I am. "But... isn't this wrong?" are all the words my mouth can form.

He isn't listening, because he puts a hand under my chin and tilts it to him, and when our lips touch, there's a heat I haven't felt before, ever. He tastes like mint and his lips are as soft as Cam's, but this kiss is different, more unsure. I touch his cheek, softly, and he pulls away. That's when I spot, out of the comer of my eye, a cloud of deep blackness on the verge of covering us. Pip must see it too, because he grabs my wrist and pulls me out of the way before a giant tree branch can slam down onto the balcony, shattering with a deafening crack.

"Dawn," he shouts, ushering me to a corner of the balcony. "She did that."

I stand there, dazed, as a torrent of hail begins to fall. At first, it's only small bits, but soon, there are tennis balls. He pulls me under an eave and hovers before me like a shield. Protecting me.

"This is bad" are the only words I can get out. "We have to make her stop."

He wipes his mouth with his hand and looks down at me. "I am sorry. I don't know what I was thinking. Tell me what you want me to do, and I will do it."

"For true love, right?" I mutter as the shards of ice crash around us. "There you go, sacrificing yourself again."

He looks confused.

"Why does it have to be up to me? Why don't you tell me what
you
want, for once?"

He cowers like a wounded animal. "Are you angry at me?"

I'm only then aware that I've been raising my voice.
"Yes,
I am. If you want me, why don't you say you do? Why do you just sit there and let yourself be taken advantage of?"

"Because I want you to be happy," he murmurs, looking stricken. "Cam makes you happy. You love him, and-"

"I love you, you idiot," I shout at him, poking him so fiercely that he collapses, limp, on a stone bench. And its only when I say it aloud that I know, for sure, that its true. "I love you. I love you. Do you hear me?"

As suddenly as it began, the storm stops, and an eerie silence prevails. Pip is staring up at me, expressionless, when I hear a noise coming from the ivy-draped back entrance, and we both turn.

Standing there among the shadows, looking small and vulnerable, is Cam.

CAM WALKS TOWARD us, hands almost elbow-deep in his pockets. For once in our lives, his expression is completely unreadable to me. I open my mouth to speak, but before I can, Pip begins to moan, a low, gurgling sound filling his throat. We both turn in time to see a tendril of ivy snake around his neck, pulling itself tighter, so that his face begins to redden. Immediately, I rush to his side and begin to claw at it.

"Dawn!" Cam shouts to the pink cloud swirling in the air above us. "Stop it!"

It's tightly around his neck, digging into his skin. Pip is clawing, too, but it's useless. As soon as I think it's about to loosen, another strand slinks forward and wraps around his leg, dragging him toward the side of the building. I grasp his hand to keep him with me, but he's being pulled, his feet etching two trails in the hail-covered marble floor. "Cam!" I yell at him "She's got to stop."

I look at Pip, whose face is losing all expression. He's still gagging, but his eyes are closed. There isn't much time. "Please, don't," I whisper helplessly.

Dawn appears from behind the fountain, navigating between hailstones with her four-inch heels. "Cameron," she says, almost pleadingly, "don't hate me."

"Let him go!" Cam and I shout at her in unison.

Cam rushes her, fists clenched, growling, "You promised!" but she simply extends one manicured finger at him, and he freezes in place.

"I promised I wouldn't try to harm Morgan," she says to him. "I never said anything about the slave boy. I'm sorry, Cameron, that it has come to this. I really wished you wouldn't fight it."

I find myself sprawled out on the marble, Pips lifeless body by my side. "Please don't hurt him," I beg. "I'll do whatever you say."

Dawn sighs. She looks up at the moon and says, "It's Cameron who has to agree."

I look at Cam, whose face is still frozen in a scowl. I see a softness in his eyes, and bit by bit, life returns to his face and limbs again. He searches my face, and I nod at him, willing him to answer her, bring this nightmare to an end. Then he turns to Dawn and says, "I agree to come with you."