Spearwood Academy Volume Five (7 page)

Her hand touches my back. I move away from her. I don’t want her pity, and I most certainly don’t want her lies. I’ve listened to her say I’m not crazy time and time again, but she’s wrong. I’ve been diagnosed. I’ve been on meds that treat the symptoms for over a decade. The doctors know what they’re doing. She’s just a teenager.

I still have episodes here and there; but I keep them to myself in fear that if I don’t, I’ll never get out of here. They need to believe I’m capable of integrating with society. Maybe I play my part too well—too well for Elle to see that I’m still the fragile girl they found in the snow with only false memories of a family and a life that never existed. Should I tell her I lie? Tell her what I really hear and see when I feel as if I’m not being watched?

Zack walks toward us. I shoo him away. Elle looks at me the way she’d look at a dead dog: defeated, inadequate, pitiful. “Don’t, just don’t. I can’t think that the last thirteen years stuck in here were for nothing and that I’m not crazy; that I lost everything; that I lost my freedom, my family, my whole life. Don’t tell me I’m not crazy. It’s the only thing I have, Elle. If I don’t have this, if everything’s a lie, then what’s the point? Am I just going to be stuck in here forever . . . with nothing? I can’t. I need you to understand just this once. Please.”

She nods. “Yeah, I can do that.”

I hug her. “I’m sorry I yelled at you. I don’t know where all of that rage came from.”

“I do. You never stand up for yourself. You’re too nice.” She squeezes me. “You should try yelling more often. It’s a vital skill you’ll need to use one day.”

“Yelling makes me sick to my stomach, but I’m glad you forgive me.” I end the hug. “Okay, I’m going to go talk to Zack.”

“I won’t stop you, but I don’t like—”

“Elle.”

“Okay. Go.”

I walk up to Zack, who’s leaning against the shed, probably trying to give Elle and me space after I shooed him away.

He stands up. “Hey, Emma. You okay?”

I bite my lip and nod. What do I do from here? Tell him Elle is going to back off? That may be a bit presumptuous.

“Come here,” he says, offering both of his hands. I place my hands in his and close the distance. My heart beats at the base of my throat. I’ve never gotten this close to him on purpose. “No Elle to stop me?”

My lips curls into a grin. My hands shake against my sides. “She’s going to leave us alone from now on. We had a talk.”

He licks his bottom lip before biting it and letting it jut right back out. I swallow hard, my nerves on edge. “You made her bend to your will? Impressive.” His hands go to my hip. My stomach tightens. I want to embrace him so much, but I don’t have a clue what I should do. Hands, where should I put my hands? On his hips? Too feminine. On his chest? Too intimate. I touch the shed. Awkward. He laughs and places my hands on his neck. They fit perfectly, still shaking. “Are you aware of what I’m about to do?”

I swallow hard. “I think so.” If I’m wrong—if he doesn’t want to kiss me—I’m going to be morti—

His warm lips press against mine, slaying my thought. My whole body sparks and closes the distance between us. His tongue teases my lips. I part them, allowing him entry. My body sparks again as I share in his kiss, my hands trailing down his back.

“Time to go,” Jeff says.

Zack pulls away, but I don’t want to. My body gravitates toward his until our lips meet again. His hand trails up my back to the nape of my neck. The high of it all dizzies me. I grip his bicep to steady myself.

“All right, love birds,” Jeff prods.

He doesn’t get it. I’ve talked myself out of trying to start a relationship with Zack for years, all the while fantasizing about kissing him. Now that I have, I don’t want to stop.

We won’t be able to do this inside. We’d be separated. I might have to threaten Crystal if she tries to avoid coming outside tomorrow. I have to have this again. I have to have this again with Zack.

When I Was Four

I look at the red canopy above my four-poster bed and hold my favorite red velvet blanket with embroidered flowers up to my chin.
I love the flowers in the garden so much that I asked my mother if I could bring the flowers inside. She said no, but made me this blanket to make up for it.

She made Aria a navy blue one with silver stars. Aria doesn’t take care of it the way I take care of mine. She drags it throughout the castle and even outside. She dirtied it quite a bit today. Our lady, Boggs, washes it in a silver bucket by the window. She’s only a few years older than us, ten at most. “Princess,” she says to Aria, “you need to keep this inside.”

“But I like it,” Aria says.

Boggs smiles and shakes her head. My mother walks in. “Boggs, what are you doing?” Boggs doesn’t answer. My mother walks up to the bucket and pulls out the blanket. “Again?” She says a few words and the blanket cleans itself and dries all at once. She pokes her finger through one of the holes. “Aria, dear, you are a rough one.” She turns to me. “It’s your turn to go first, Emma.”

I climb down the small ladder at the end of my bed. I love it when mother gets my ready to sleep. Boggs already bathed Aria and me, so all that’s left to do is our hair. Mother could use magic to rid our hair of tangles, but she never does.

I follow her into her chambers, picking up the hem of my night gown so it doesn’t get dirty. The big doors to her room close behind us. She lifts me up and places me in her golden vanity chair. I feel like a true princess in it, especially with the glass table and gold-rimmed mirror in front of me.

I run my little fingers over the floral perfume one of the fairies made for her. She picks up a silver brush, like the ones the mermaids use, and brushes my hair. I tilt my head back. I love it when she brushes my hair. It always puts me to sleep.

When she’s done, she carries me to bed and tucks me in. “I love you, Emma,” she says, kissing my forehead. I’m too tired to respond, so I drift off.

~*~*~*~

My own loud snoring wakes me up. Elle laughs. “I can’t believe you can fall asleep during all of my tugging and pulling.”

“It feels good,” I tell her. “Not to mention, it takes like an hour for you to comb through my hair. What else am I supposed to do?”

“Keep me company,” she says. “Do you know how hard it is to brush through five feet of hair with a tiny comb and not break the dang thing?”

“Thank you, Elle.”

She sighs. “You’re welcome. Now, do you want a bun, a French braid, or two braids?”

“Whatever’s quickest. I want to get a spot on the couch before the high schoolers get out.”

“Let me guess: another couch date with Zack?”

Heat rises to my cheeks. “I wanted to go outside and pick up where we left off the other day, but my hair was beyond frizzy, and it was time for a thorough wash.”

“Hopefully, I’ll braid it tight enough this time that you won’t have to take it down for like a month. I love you, but the combing and braiding does a wonder on my wrists.”

I fall back asleep as she braids it.

~*~*~*~

Prajapati grabs my hand and takes me to the top of the hill behind the castle. “I want to go climb the mountains,” he says. The tall peeks shield us from what’s behind them. From the stories mother’s told, there are cannons and a secret passageway to the land of fairies, though she calls it something I can’t pronounce.

“Maybe we could have a picnic,” I suggest. He smiles, lowering himself to the ground. I follow suit and cross my leg. A moat surrounds us below. Inside, creatures dwell: selkies and others. I haven’t learned all of their names yet.

To our left, cliffs meet the ocean side. Father takes me there sometimes. He shifts into a Dragon and carries me over the side. I spread my arms out and pretend to fly. No matter how much I try, I never can. Prajapati can’t either, but he has been able to shift his hands. Someday, he’ll shift completely. I hope I’ll be able to.

I love the rush of being in the air. I love going so fast I can’t see. “Time to roll, Prajapati.”

He nods. We spread out and hold our arms at our sides. “Ready. Set. Go!” he says.

I force my body over the steep hill. Air circles around my ears, and my vision blurbs to lines of blue, green, white, and yellow as I roll down the hill. I go airborne over a small dip in the hill and land with a roll. I wonder if I’m winning.

My roll slows a few feet from the castle wall. I move my palms out to stop myself. The world spins as I push myself up and into a standing position.

My skin itches all over from contact with the grass. I yell, “Last one to the fountain is a smelly draugr!” I run at top speed. Prajapati whips by so fast I’m almost knocked off balance. Where did he go? “Prajapati! Prajapati!” He disappeared. I keep running toward the fountain. I open the garden gate and walk through the maze.

It used to be easy to get lost in here, but a long time ago, a man entered it with yarn to mark his way. The yarn still marks the way to the garden at the center, where my favorite flowers grow.

I trace the hedges of the maze wall as I follow the string. I get to the center and press my hands to the tree of wisdom. An image pops into my mind. I’m wearing a floor-length ball gown. A beautiful necklace in the shape of a butterfly’s wing glints under the light. A handsome man with golden eyes spins me around.

Prajapati splashes me with water. “You’re the smelly draugr,” he says. His trousers are drenched. I climb over the edge of the fountain and get in with him. He splashes me again, and I splash back. I lower myself and submerge my body all the way. The itchy sensation from the grass goes away as the water covers me.

~*~*~*~

“All done,” Elle says, patting the top of my head.

I let out a deep breath. I like that memory. If only it were real.

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