“Who?” I ask. I’m taken aback for a second at the sound of the fake last name that Dorian uses, but more importantly I’m making one last attempt at feigning innocence as a defense against Emily’s quest for knowledge.
“Dorian Smith – the hottest guy here Dorian Smith,” she said like I should obviously know this information.
“What? No!” I say. I wish I was, but that doesn’t make it so. “Who is Madison?”
“She’s the girl that lives just down the hall. She told me that you and Dorian were walking around holding hands. Well, she didn’t know your name, but there are only so many red-heads on campus…and only one that would walk around with such beautiful hair tied up in a frumpy ponytail.” She reached out and pulled my hair around to sit in front of my shoulder as she spoke.
“Well…” I trailed off, not knowing exactly what to say.
“Ahh! It’s true!” she squealed.
“No,” I said. “We’re not dating…”
“But you were holding hands?”
“Yeah, but for him it’s not like that.” I say hearing the disappointment in my own voice.
“I don’t think so. Guys don’t hold hands with girls they don’t like, and Madison said that you two were being so cute together she absolutely hates you.” It’s funny how hearing that someone hates you can make you feel good sometimes. “She’s been after him since the first day he was in class – just like half the other girls at this school”
I guess I am the only one that he can hold hands with, and we have lunch plans every day. The thought makes me smile.
“You really really like him!” Em says like an accusation.
All I can do is shrug my shoulders and try to keep from blushing. I’m afraid that if I say anything, she’ll be able to tell just how much I like him and I’m not sure that I’m ready for anyone to have that knowledge.
“Wow! This is way more serious than I thought! We need to get you into some cute clothes! Yeah! Shopping!” She says so excited that she almost looks like she could explode.
“I was hoping you’d say that.” Thank you, Emily for being an amazing friend and knowing exactly what I need.
Em looks surprised but she doesn’t let it delay her. Before long, she has her tablet out and is scrolling through page after page of trendy clothing. I don’t have much money to spend, but she insists that she could make any budget work.
Before long, we’ve placed several online orders and she has set aside enough clothes from her closet to get me through until everything arrives in the mail. I’m so glad that Em let me borrow all these clothes; she’s such a life saver.
I can tell that Em has been thinking about more than clothes and she asks me, “So you like this guy enough to get a whole new wardrobe and hold his hand, but you’re not dating?”
“Em, it just isn’t like that for him. He’s a little out of my league,” I say, my voice sounding more disappointed than I intended.
“You are gorgeous when you let yourself be, and nobody is out of your league.”
“Thanks, Em,” I say, thinking that it’s nice how friends and parents can always say that stuff no matter what the truth is.
“As for the rest,” she continues. “We’ll just have to wait and see how interested he is in dating you.”
With the promise that I’ll test fit all the new clothes with her after they arrive in the mail, I head back home to have supper.
Em lent me so much stuff that I need to make two trips to get it all from the car. Walking past my mom with my arms full of clothes, she asks, “Are you getting dressed up for someone special?” She has that tone parents use when they think they already know the answer to their own question.
“Um, no,” I answer, not wanting to get into details.
In a similar effort to avoid more questions, I told my mom that I was going to be eating at school, so I wouldn’t be coming back home for lunches anymore. It isn’t exactly a lie, but it did spare me from having to tell her about the supernatural guy I’m totally hung up on.
Things are just too complicated to explain about Dorian, but I do feel better now that Emily knows something. Sure, I can’t share many details but it’s still nice.
When we’re just about done with supper, my mom says, “I made some peanut butter balls, I’ll pack them up, so you can share with your lunch friends.” It makes me feel a little guilty for not telling her more. She’s always done so many nice things like this for me.
“Thanks mom,” I say. “You really didn’t need to do that.”
“If you won’t be here so I can feed you, I can at least make sure that you don’t starve,” she says.
My dad pipes in and says, “Those are Wyatt’s favorite, aren’t they?” He’s got the same look on his face that my mom had earlier – like he knows something I don’t.
“I think so,” I say, not quite knowing what he’s trying to get at.
I don’t spend much time contemplating it because I’ve got homework to do, so I rush off to my room. Thankfully I’m able to finish it quickly and still have enough time to do some laundry and straighten up.
Once everything looks presentable and I’ve picked out my outfit for tomorrow and set my alarm a bit earlier, I realize that I’ve officially run out of things that I could do to keep my mind off Dorian.
Unable to stop it, I lay in bed and give in. I’ve always thought that girls who obsess over a guy were just wasting time, but that still isn’t enough to stop me. I’m also quite sure that there isn’t a guy out there that could be more worth obsessing over than Dorian.
Thinking back to our lunch and my unanswered question, I wonder why he’s insisting on only answering one question per day – why would he be trying to stretch things out like that? Maybe I should have that as my next question...or I could ask him why he was interested in me when we first met. He promised to answer that, and even just thinking about the question makes my insides tingle.
‘No,’ I say to myself. My priority still needs to be figuring out why he came back – It’s my best shot at figuring out how to keep him here. I can’t stand the thought that he could leave again and be lost to me forever.
Chapter 12
The next day passes a lot like the day before until Dorian and I are walking out of the building after Biology class. Right there on the sidewalk in front of the building, Emily is pretending like she casually happened to run into us.
I can tell by the look on her face that she’s up to something, and when she sees that Dorian and I are holding hands, her Cheshire cat smile grows wider.
“Oh, Hi Lucky,” she says as she waves and runs up to meet me.
“Hi Em,” I respond trying to be nice, but I’m still suspicious.
“I was just waiting to meet up with a few people. We’re all gonna go buy tickets to the Fall Ball,” she says far too innocently. Ripon was founded so long ago that they still have traditions like formal dances.
Looking at Dorian like she already knows him, she says, “Since you two are a couple now, you’ll be taking Lucky to the ball, right?”
My mouth drops open. I can’t believe she just did that! I told her he didn’t feel that way!
Before I can even think of anything to say, Dorian responds. “If she would like to go, I would be more than happy to be her escort,” he says now looking toward me.
I try to close my mouth, very aware that Dorian is trying to asses my reaction.
With a very self-satisfied look on her face, Emily says “We’ll see you there then!” She waves and starts to walk away after saying “I love the sweater, Luck” she gives a quick wink in my direction and is gone down the path.
I look over at Dorian, a little unsure of how to fix what Em just did. I kinda wish there was a rock nearby to hide under.
“I didn’t tell her that we’re a couple,” I say as my only form of defense
Dorian smiles and holds his hand up with mine so that they’re in front of our faces and says, “It’s probably something th
at a lot of people would think seeing this.”
That’s true, I realize as I exhale for what I think is the first time since I saw Emily.
Letting go of my hand, Dorian’s smile disappears and is replaced by a worried look as he says “…but if you’d rather not have people think that way, I would understand.”
“No,” I say probably a little too loudly and grab his hand again. Way to play it cool, Lucky.
His face warms again. “Then letting people think that we’re dating is probably the easiest way to explain our contact, and the time we’re spending together,” he says. “And I really would like to be your escort if you would go to the ball with me.”
Um. The ball presents multiple problems – First, I can’t dance. Second, I don’t have anything to wear. Third, – I want to go with him so much it scares me. I can’t remember ever wanting to go to a dance. It’s strange how Dorian seems to be changing my perception of myself.
“Sure,” I say tentatively.
His face reflects my worry. He can tell that I’m holding something back. “What’s wrong?” he asks.
I decide to go with the easiest to explain of my issues. “I don’t have anything to wear”
“Not a problem,” he says and starts to walk again smiling widely. “I’ll have something dropped off.”
What does that even mean? I almost ask, but then I remember the one question rule and decide that I can’t risk it. I think Dorian must be expecting me to ask, because he’s looking at me with one arched eyebrow.
“I have dessert for us today,” I say to change the topic.
“Something you made?” he asks looking quite interested.
“I’ve helped make them before, but my mom made this batch for us. She likes to feed people too.”
“So, your mom knows about us?” he asks with a smirk. How can a half smile be so hot?
“Kinda,” I say not knowing how I should answer that.
“So, what have you told your mom or anyone else about me?” he says. What can I say to that? Certainly not, ‘Emily knows that I really like you and I’ve been too chicken to talk about you with anyone else.’ I decide that giving a fake answer is probably the way to go.
“Immortal…magic…you know, the usual stuff,” I say, hoping to avoid saying too much. I don’t want to admit that Em knows how much I like him and that I’ve kept him a secret from everyone else in my life so I wouldn’t have to explain my infatuation.
“Ah. So, tell me about this dessert,” he says. Apparently, he’s decided to let me get away with not really giving an answer. If he didn’t, I was ready with a reply about how he’d already asked me his question for the day. I smile at my unsaid joke and try to explain my mom’s cooking.
“It’s not fancy like what you make. They’re my mom’s peanut butter balls. It’s like a homemade Reece’s, but better.” I really like them, but I hope that they won’t be too simple for him to enjoy.
“Well, it just so happens that I didn’t make anything fancy today. Our conversation inspired me to enjoy the tastes of the northern mid-west, so I made one of your favorites – tater tot casserole” I can’t believe he did that – it’s so sweet of him to make my favorite but it’s hard to imagine him using frozen tater tots.
In his kitchen, he takes even longer than he has before to plate up our food. When he finally turns around with both plates, there is nothing recognizable about the food sitting on them – this must not be the tater tot casserole.
There is a golden tower in the middle of the plate made from what looks to be very thinly sliced French fries. A fan of meat that is still pink inside is spread out in front while an assortment of different mushrooms is spread around the plate along with a white sauce.
“Deconstructed tater tot casserole,” he says as he places a plate down in front of me.
I try to stop myself, but I can’t help but laugh – there isn’t a tot in sight! The completely dumbfounded look on his face only makes me laugh harder. How does he think this is tater tot casserole?
“What’s so funny?” he asks completely confused by what I could be finding humor in.
“You and my mom have very different recipes” I’m finally able to say after my giggles subside a bit.
He then points to each item on my plate as he names the ingredients. “Golden fried potatoes,” he says as he points to the tower of thin potato sticks. “Beef, mushrooms, and a white pepper and cheese sauce.” He’s looking very serious now. “I may have taken a few liberties, but I assure you that all the elements are the same.”
I tentatively pick up my fork and try to get some of everything into one bite. He’s watching me very closely as I start to chew.
“Well?” he says.
I finish chewing and swallow, then say “You are an excellent chef”
“But?” he adds in on my behalf.
“It’s good, but my mom’s is still better,” I say unable to hide my laughter again after seeing his confused expression. He watches me for a second and then begins to laugh himself.
“Then I’ll expect you to bring me the recipe,” he adds still chuckling.
I’m glad that I can tease him now. It would have been unthinkable when all I saw of him was dark and brooding. Now when his mood is light, it can be easy to forget that he’s a cursed man. Glancing at the clock, I see that time is once again moving too fast when I’m with Dorian.
“What made you come back?” I blurt out.
He puts down his fork and takes a deep breath. Just when we were really having fun, I’ve done it again. His smile is gone, and he is looking at me with his head cocked slightly to the side.
“Oh, Lucky, you really don’t believe in preamble of any kind, do you?” he says and looks down before he continues. “Like I’ve said before, I didn’t want to complicate your life if I could prevent it. I just couldn’t seem to leave you completely alone. Coan was listening in on you as a favor to me, but that day I came back, so I could see you.
“I had planned on watching you from a distance, and I did for a little while until I saw the tree that I had jumped from that first day in the quarry.” I remember that tree.
“Coan asked me about that tree,” I said as I remembered not understanding why he was interested in it either.
“When I saw that it was alive, I realized that touching you prevented my curse from killing everything else that comes into contact with me,” he said with his mood changing to be more hopeful.
“So, you’re cured?” I ask.
“No,” he said. “I’ve been testing it and I still can’t die, but Coan and I have a theory. My curse is like a vacuum that is constantly sucking in life force from everything nearby. There are things that I can do that make the pull a little stronger or weaker, but when you touch me it seems to completely fill the vacuum for a little while.”
“Wow,” I say, taking a little time to process. I can see why he came back – how could he turn away from a chance to lessen the curse – for his sake and that of everyone else in his vicinity. And I’m the one doing this? What does that mean about me?
“How does it work; what am I?” I ask and then I remember how he had asked that very same question of me before. It seems like neither one of us knows what I am.
Dorian starts to chuckle softly, stands and walks towards me. “Amazing. Beautiful. One of a kind,” he says, putting his hand on my cheek and looking into my eyes. Melt.
Maybe if I felt special, if I felt like I was actively doing something for him when he touched me, it wouldn’t be so hard to accept his gratitude without feeling like I’m falling in love with him.
It’s too easy to forget when he says that I’m amazing, beautiful and one of a kind that he’s talking about my unconscious ability to affect his curse. It’s too easy to feel like it’s any other scenario where a man would touch my face like this and say those things because he loved me. I need to get my head straight, so I back up away from his touch.
“Wait,” I say as something he
said earlier registers in my head. “How do you know that you still can’t die?” I ask the question, but I already know the answer – there was a reason why it felt like he was saying goodbye to me forever on Saturday night.
Looking straight into my eyes he answers flatly. “If there was a chance that I could end this curse permanently, it was my responsibility to try. Your touch only provides the life around me a temporary relief – If I’m away from you too long, or if I’m in physical danger the void returns.”
It makes me glad that he wasn’t fully cured. No, that’s horrible to even think, but it’s true. He would be dead right now if some part of his curse didn’t remain. It scares me a little how much I would be willing to give up in this world to ensure Dorian’s survival, but I am grateful that I don’t have to know all of those details – at least not right now.
With a quick nod towards the clock, Dorian silently conveys our need to be on our way to class.
Dorian walks me to the building where I have my first afternoon class and nods goodbye. We didn’t say a word the whole way, and I could tell he was thinking about something, but he didn’t give away any clues.
When I arrive at English lit., I’m expecting to see Dorian, but all I find is a note addressed to me in elegant flowing script.
Ellie,
I will not be in class today as I have some errands that need attention. I hope to see you tomorrow for lunch.
-Dorian
Not seeing Dorian has put me in a sour mood, and when I arrive home after school, I don’t feel much like talking. There is a black foreign car in the driveway when I pull in and I assume that it must be a salesman or religious missionary. Nobody we know drives a car that nice.
When I get into the kitchen, my mom is there and says, “There’s someone waiting in the living room to see you. Kari Shaw?”
I have no idea who that is, so I just shrug my shoulders and turn to walk into the living room under my mother’s watchful gaze.
Lucky: Dorian Gray Novels Book 1 Page 11
