Authors: Layla Hagen
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Coming of Age, #Romance, #Contemporary, #New Adult & College
"So where exactly are we going to celebrate?" I ask, eying my Swiss chocolate box. Staying indoors with chocolate and a good movie never sounded more appealing.
"Royal Garden."
"You're kidding. Did we pull a bank job and I don't remember it? That place is expensive, Jess."
"I know, but you always wanted to go there."
I did. I was there once in my second year to listen to a speech and immediately proclaimed it my favorite place in the world. It's an eighteenth century mansion that has been turned into a hotel, hidden in a small forest, not far from here. The surrounding area doesn't even resemble California, more like a setting from a fairy tale. The prices are exorbitant, though. The reception in their restaurant had already been paid for by the university, but I glanced at the menu once and knew it'd be a long time before I could afford it.
"I only got the job offer, Jess. They didn't send me a paycheck in advance."
"No need. I have a friend who works there who owes me one. I was waiting for the right occasion to ask for the favor. He said he'll give us a heavy discount. Just on drinks, though." She winks. "Hence the pancakes."
I gape at her. Funny how she can arrange anything anywhere, yet when it came to paying for the damage in the bar, the only thing she thought of was running to James. I don't say anything, though. I'm glad that things are finally calm between us. Besides, it really is nice of her to arrange something like this.
"So who else is joining us?"
"Oh, just a couple of people from your class," she says, her eyes glinting as she pulls a bit at her frock. I grin. Other people would wear long skirts, or at least somehow try to hide the cast, but she picked one of her shortest dresses, and painted the flag of England on the cast just above her knee. "Also some of my people, so we can have some real fun. No offense to your economics and computer geeks."
I chuckle. "None taken. So how did you manage to arrange this in three hours?"
"You know me. There's nothing that can get me started more than a party. I only needed two and a half, actually. I was half asleep when you texted. By the way, there will also be some people from your volleyball team. Not Jason, though."
I shudder as I remember the last time I saw Jason. Part of me still wishes James had punched him. The other part wishes I'd gritted my teeth and stayed with him, because that would have saved me from myself and my weakness. I would have avoided everything that followed with James.
"We'll have a lot of fun," she says, a look of immense satisfaction sprawled on her face.
"Jess," I say, suddenly terrified of her smile, "I hope James won't be there."
She shakes her head. "You should cut the man some slack, Serena. If my boyfriend had died in a car crash trying to get away from me, I'd—"
"Written him a nice epitaph and proceeded to a rebound?" I ask sardonically.
"I would’ve Googled an epitaph. I'm not particularly skilled with goodbyes. But I would have been affected by it. Anyone would."
"I know, Jess," I reply.
"You
should
know. You still get all worked up about your sister after all these years."
I freeze in my steps. Jess rarely brings up Kate. Very rarely. Not even on Kate's birthday, when I'm a wreck. She just does her best to cheer me up. But I suppose the reason for my earlier slip with the green dress was more than obvious. And if I have these kinds of slips, why am I asking more of James?
I know why.
Because my slips include a lot of crying and breakdowns, triggered by the most random things, like stumbling upon a movie I once saw with Kate. He barely talks about his pain. Maybe if he talked about it he wouldn't leave me stranded in a hospital after I told him I loved him, and then run off to another woman. Maybe if we were both broken in the same way, we would know how to mend each other. Or maybe if I were a better person, I would accept that it's all right not to be the same, and I would try to work things out instead of running away from him. But I am not that person, and I don't want to risk giving him another chance.
Because all James and I seem to know is how to hurt each other.
"Let's go. Or everyone else will be there before us," Jess says, looking worriedly from me to the part of the closet where she hid Kate's dress. It occurs to me that Jess must remember that tomorrow is Kate's birthday. I suddenly realize that her organizing the whole thing tonight isn't just for celebrating our job successes, but also part of her annual effort to prevent me from having a depression attack on Kate's birthday.
"Sure, let's go," I say. Jess gets out of the room first, and I trail after her. It's not until I reach my door that I realize something's caught on the right heel of my white strappy sandals. A piece of black fabric, a thong perhaps. I bend down to remove it and suck in my breath when I realize what it is. It's the black ribbon that hung on the waist of Kate's dress. It must have fallen off when Jess took the dress away.
Without thinking, I open my white envelope bag and put the ribbon inside.
I
don't know why, but I am beyond nervous in the cab. I sit next to the driver to give Jess enough space to put up her foot in the back. I try to ignore the driver's less than polite stares. He snorted when we told him the address, then asked us if we know that it's a very expensive place. Now he glares at our purses every few seconds, as if he's afraid we won't pay him. It would serve him right. I should be happy, excited. After all, the news about the job is what I've been waiting and praying for weeks to receive. Months, really. But there's a heaviness in my chest that might or might not have something to do with the ribbon in my bag.
The sight of the forest surrounding Royal Garden momentarily pushes everything else to the back of my mind—the forest is as enchanting as I remember it. There's nothing but thick trees on either side of the road. I know there is a river here somewhere and I roll the window down a bit to hear it. Sure enough, the distant sound of flowing water reaches my ears. When the mansion comes in view, I feel just like I did when I first saw it. Like I am stepping inside a fairy tale. I turn to Jess and smile, now excited for real. I can't imagine a better place to celebrate. The driver stops in front of the main entrance, and I immediately realize that the long row of steps—part of what gives this place its charming appearance—will be a nightmare for Jess to climb.
Just as I open my mouth, Jess tells the driver, "There's another entrance in the back where there are no steps."
"No there isn't—"
"I'm telling you there is," Jess snarls at him. "Serena dear, you should get out here. Aidan just texted me that he's waiting inside with some other people."
"No, no, I'll come and help you."
"There's no need. My friend will help me." She grins. "I'll use the occasion to remind him of our discount."
"Fine. See you in a bit." I pay the driver and step out of the car.
I climb the stairs with dignity, mentally thanking Abby for all the cardio training she insists we do before our volleyball games. I take a full minute when I'm inside to admire the decor: the cherry wood furniture, the intricately painted high ceiling, and the centerpiece of the room—the beautiful chandelier. There is no one in the entrance hall except the two women behind the front desk, who are too busy brooding over some papers to notice me. I wonder where everyone is. Maybe they're in the restaurant already. I take out my phone, thinking of calling Aidan, then decide to look for him directly in the restaurant.
"Miss, you're not allowed to go in there," one of the women calls just as I move in the direction I vaguely remember the restaurant being.
"Why?" I ask, startled.
"The hotel and the restaurant are privately booked for today and the weekend. I'm afraid you'll have to come back another day. I'll be happy to make a reservation for you."
"Thanks," I say, doing a very bad job of hiding my disappointment. So much for Jess's friend. Why didn't he tell us the place was booked? I'm about to call Jess to tell her that we should spread the word that nothing is happening anymore when I see
him
, sitting in one of the two armchairs across the room, in front of the fireless fireplace. The amused expression on his face tells me he's been watching me for a while. My stomach churns as the memory of the two days I spent crying in my bed comes back to haunt me. The memory isn't even clear; only the pain stands out. And the pain is as raw now that I have him in front of me as it was then.
"What are you doing here?" I ask, cursing Jess for lying to me. Why did she have to invite James?
He gets up from the armchair and walks toward me with determined, but slow-paced, strides, holding his hands behind his back. "I heard there was something to celebrate."
"Not anymore. Haven't you heard the second part? The place is privately booked."
"I know." He smiles, pulling gently at the sleeves of his black shirt. "I booked it."
I fold my arms over my chest. "I see. I take it that Jess didn't actually invite anyone else and that if I call her now, she's already on her way to our apartment?"
"No, she's on her way to downtown San Jose actually, meeting the crowd there. I believe the words
partying all night
have come up twice in our conversation."
"So what now?"
"Now we talk."
I snort. "You booked the entire place so you could talk to me?"
"Well, I was aiming to get you kidnapped by elves and so—"
I can't help smiling. My face feels a little hot. "My most embarrassing line ever, and you just don't seem to be able to forget it, huh?"
Not that I will ever forget it.
I want to taste every single recipe in Willie Wonka's chocolate factory, get myself kidnapped by elves and locked up in Rivendell, and attend the midnight release of the next book about the wizarding world that I know Rowling will write. If that last thing fails, I want to learn how to fly on a broom at the very least.
He got the chocolate factory all right, and while this place doesn't really look anything like Rivendell in the Lord of The Rings movies, it's as close as it gets.
"It wasn't embarrassing," he says softly, smiling. He gazes at me longingly from under his long lashes, and I suddenly feel completely naked in front of him. Exposed. "It was innocent and adorable. It showed me your dreams—the real you."
"So did your line." I wish I could forget his words even more than I wish I could forget mine. "Your three fears.
I hate snakes and always keep a light on when I sleep. And I suffer from chronic commitment phobia
," I recite.
His smile fades; his shoulders slump. "I most certainly hope that line didn't show who I am." He shudders slightly, looking away from me. "Dreams show who you are. Fears show who you don't want to be. And I like to think I've overcome one of those fears. With your help."
"So you are not afraid of snakes anymore?"
"Serena… " He raises an arm, as if he'd like to put it around me, but I take a quick step back. Not quick enough, though. His fingers brush my arm, sending an impulse so powerful, so cutting, that it takes away my breath.
"I said everything I needed to when we last saw each other, James."
"No, you babbled incoherently something that has absolutely nothing to do with how things really are. You can leave right now if you want. But I'd very much like you to stay."
"I have a choice?"
He leans forward a bit, but doesn't attempt to touch me again. "I told you on that plane, you always have a choice."
"It's not much of a kidnapping if I have a choice," I joke, fidgeting my hands behind my back.
The corner of his mouth lifts into a smile so heartfelt it instantly makes him look a few years younger. "Well, there aren't any actual elves around to kidnap you either, so giving you a choice should make up for it."
I shift on my spot, unsure what to do.
"So, what do you say about dinner?" he asks.
"I've had too many pancakes for that… but drinks sound all right, I guess."
"That's my girl," he says, straightening up. "After you." He points toward the other end of the room, at a large set of wooden doors, where the restaurant must be.
I can't take my eyes off the wall and the beautiful chandelier as I walk. I can't believe the beauty of this place. It makes it so easy to imagine that I really am in Rivendell. I steal a glance at James behind my shoulder. First the chocolate factory, now this. How determined he seems to make my dreams come true. And I… what did I ever do for him? What can I do for someone who has everything? I think of his fears and the way he shuddered, saying I helped him overcome one of them. I don't think I did. But maybe I can do it. That can be my gift to him: helping him overcome his fears.
But I can't do that at the cost of my own sanity.