Finally, he tilts his head down and pulls in his chin like he’s just made a decision. “Okay,” he says. “I will ask you more explicitly next time.”
I let out the breath I was holding. So maybe he doesn’t really understand, but this is progress, right?
Looking at me a little timidly, he says, “There is something you should probably know about that I have already done.” Oh, no. I feel apprehension building in my belly. “I have altered the balance in your checking account slightly.” He’s staring at me waiting for a reaction.
“How much is slightly?” I ask not knowing if I really want to get the answer.
He holds up his hands in a defensive position and I know that it must be a lot. “It’s just a little bit of money. When I realized that you were staying with your parents for financial reasons, I made a small deposit into your account. I just couldn’t stand aside when it was so easy for me to fix. I just put in a little bit of spending cash to help you get through school – that’s all.”
“How did you get my bank information?” I ask appalled.
“When someone is willing to make a deposit, banks are very willing to help.” He didn’t answer how he knew what bank I use, but would my bank just let him make a deposit without all my information? It doesn’t seem right.
I grab my phone and quickly go to my online banking app and log in. I’m used to checking my balance because it’s typically so low that I need to watch it with every purchase I make. Out of the corner of my eye I can see Dorian watching me nervously. It takes a couple quick taps to get to the balance screen. At first, I’m thrown off because the font is so much smaller than I’m used to, and then I realize that it needs to be smaller to fit that many digits. My mouth drops open as I read the balance carefully recounting the comma’s contained within. $5,000,234.15 – I recognize the $234.15 as what my balance should have been, but now it’s $5 million dollars too high!
I look up and Dorian’s face looks contrite. “Please don’t be mad,” he says. This is what he considers a little spending money? “It was already done before you told me how you felt, and please believe that I can more than afford it.”
“You have to take it back!” I can’t imagine keeping a gift this large. I’m suddenly very aware of the debit card sitting in my purse. It feels like there’s suddenly some kind of beacon shining out from my wallet that could draw in criminals from every corner of the earth. I want this money gone, now, before something happens.
“It’s just a little money, and I want you to have it.” His face still looks contrite, but his tone is steady. I don’t want to be ungrateful, but I just can’t keep this much money. If he could make a deposit into my account, maybe I could make one back into his.
“How did you get my bank account information?” I ask hoping to figure out how I could do it.
He looks a little uneasy and pauses before answering. I can tell that he doesn’t want to answer this question. “I had a background check done on you after I saw you that first day in class.” He looks like he’s expecting me to blow up at him, and I might have if I didn’t already know about his other stalker tendencies. I never told him that I found those sketches of me that he made that same day.
I should focus on how to get the money back into his account, but I can’t avoid the temptation to get an answer that I’ve wanted for so long.
“Why?”, I ask. “You promised that you would tell me why you were interested in me when we first met.” I can barely get the words out of my mouth because it feels so strange to ask why he’s interested in me and because I have fantasized so much about what I would want him to say.
“Yes, I did promise,” he says as he starts to lead me over to the couch. “Will you sit with me?” he asks as he waves his hand at the one open cushion that isn’t piled with clothes. I move to sit down, and he grabs a nearby chair, pushing it over so that he can sit facing me and hold both of my hands in his.
“Do you remember what I told you about how I came to be cursed?” I can see pain once again etched on his face. I’ve seen it so many times that I recognize it as a deep part of who he is.
“Of course, I remember.” How could I forget the tale of how he became immortal and a danger to everyone around him? How his fiancé’s mother took out her grief on him with a curse that has harmed so many and wrongly put so much guilt on Dorian’s shoulders. I do believe in Dorian’s innocence, no matter how he is willing to accept all the blame. Lavinia used her daughter and Dorian as pawns – she played with their emotions and if anyone but Sybil is to blame for her own death it was Lavinia, not Dorian.
“Sybil and her mother were very different women in so many ways. So many years have passed that I can’t recall all of the detail of their faces. Sibyl had beautiful dark hair and olive skin, but her mother’s skin was very light and her hair was a bright red. The one thing that I will never be able to forget is Lavinia’s eyes.”
No. Red hair, pale skin - I can feel where this is going. In my head a flood of words pour out that I don’t have the courage to say aloud. Please don’t tell me that I remind you of the woman who cursed you. Please don’t let this be why you were interested in me - why you sketched me. I had so much hope that you saw something in my face that you liked…I never dreamed that you saw a part of your nightmare.
Not sensing the dread building in my chest, Dorian continues on. “Lavinia’s eyes were the last bit of her to burn away when she cursed me and her most defining feature in life. The dark band around the edge of the iris framing the vivid green color within; the almond shape set wide in her face. Your eyes are exactly the same.”
No!
Having finished his explanation, his posture and his face begin to change as he leaves the other world that is his past. Slowly he comes back to the present and starts to realize that I’m on the edge of hyperventilating.
Chapter 15
How can this be happening!? I feel like I’m losing him. He was never mine, but maybe before I thought there was a chance – I wanted there to be a chance. How has he been so nice to me when he’s had to see the eyes of the person that cursed his every time he looks at my face. No wonder he left, I think snidely to myself – this makes so much more sense. Crap! Does this mean…
“Am I related to Lavinia? Is that why I have her eyes?” As soon as I ask the question, I realize that I don’t think I can handle the answer. I can feel it driving another wedge between me and Dorian and I can’t stand for there to be more space. He’s become such a large part of my life so quickly.
For the first time since he finished speaking, he looks in my eyes and sees the panic growing there.
“No.” he says while searching my face. I can see that he’s trying to figure out why I’m reacting so intensely.
“How can you know?” If I’m related to her, is that better or worse?
“Ellie, all of Lavinia’s family is dead. It was a part of her curse. Coan can probably explain better than I can, but there’s no way that you could be related. When I ordered a background check on you, I asked Coan to do one as well and there was nothing. He couldn’t see any supernatural ties – we still don’t know why you have the ability to affect my curse. Why do you look so worried?”
“How can you even stand to look at me?” I ask with tears starting to run down my face. I pull my hands away and use them to wipe my cheeks. What kind of a cruel joke is it that I’m so drawn to him and that it’s my touch that can help him when my face is a living reminder of his torture.
“Ellie, no,” he says grabbing back one of my hands and using his other to finish wiping my tears away. “Please don’t think like that. I don’t see anything of her in you.”
“But, my red hair, my skin, my eyes...” I can’t even keep looking at him anymore. All I want to do is hide and mourn what I had hoped could have been between us. He must think I’m crazy for reacting like this, but he doesn’t know all that I wished we could be.
“Ellie, I’ve seen those things a thousand times
before…or at least I thought I had…either way, I’m not affected by it. Please don’t hide your face from me.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask.
“It’s a little embarrassing.”
“Please,” I ask desperate for some answer that could help me feel a little better right now.
“I have a long history of hallucination up until I met you,” he says like he’s trying to get away with saying as little as possible.
“I still don’t understand.”
“I’ve seen Lavinia’s eyes before in so many different women, but it was always just a mistake until I saw you, and then I realized that you’re even less like her than any other I’ve seen.”
“Please. You’re not making any sense.” Why can’t he just say something I can understand!
“I’ll explain, just calm down,” he says, and pulls a white handkerchief out of his pocket bringing it up to my cheeks to wipe the moisture.
“I’ve thought that I’ve seen Lavinia, or at least parts of Lavinia, many times before,” he says, pausing to see what judgement is on my face. “Coan assured me that there was nothing mystical about it, so it was just a symptom. A side effect of PTSD, if you will.”
“That’s understandable,” I say, and I can see that my acceptance has put him a little more at ease.
“Whenever I thought that I saw a semblance of Lavinia, I would sketch the face of the woman I saw. That was my therapy. When I was drawing the image, I could start to see that their eyes weren’t really the same. It would help me see that their shape was different, or the angles their features were set at was off. Most of the time, they weren’t even close.”
“That was why you make those drawings of me,” I say before really thinking it through. I can see that he’s instantly embarrassed and looking a little shy.
“Well, yes, I suppose,” he says while looking down. “I didn’t know you had seen my notebook.”
Oh, no. Why can’t I keep my mouth shut? Now I’m feeling bad for being a snoop.
“They were lovely,” I say hoping to make up in some small way for my intrusion. “So, is that what happened when you drew me? You could see that we weren’t the same?” I can hear the hope in my own voice.
“No….and yes,” he says, looking unsure of how to explain. “Every physical detail of your eyes is exactly the same as hers, and everything else about Lavinia is so much like a dream to me that all I can say is that you’re close. But please believe me when I say that I hold no confusion between you two. Lavinia’s eyes reflected the cold cynical nature of her soul. You can see the type of person you are through your eyes too, but you’re so different from her that there’s no way I could mix the feelings I have for either of you.” Almost nervously, he continues. “I’ve seen you wonder at the world around you, and I’ve seen you at peace. I’ve seen your innocence and your intelligence. I’ve seen love shine through your eyes at those around you and I see how you have earned their love in return.
“Once I really saw you, I saw that you were so beautiful that I couldn’t stand to be away from you, and when I did find the strength, you found me - like that night when you caught me reading. Ellie, I’ve fallen for you.”
What!?!?! I can’t believe it. Just when I was so sure that he could never have feelings for me, he says this? I feel like I’m trembling and I’m too shocked to speak. It’s almost like I can feel Dorian’s heart beating faster too as he looks up at me with a shy unsteady smile and studies my reaction. He can’t stand to be away from me? It’s the feeling I’ve been hoping he would return since I first saw him.
Speak! Why can’t I speak? I can feel that tears are going to spill over again in another second and Dorian and I are slowly leaning in towards each other. This is it, we’re going to kiss. It’s everything I’ve seen in the movies, only a thousand times more powerful.
THUD! THUD! THUD! I jump at the loud noise from the door, and it feels like someone has popped the beautiful bubble that Dorian and I were in.
A small nasal voice that doesn’t match the massive echo of her knock speaks sharply. “Hey, I’m your RA. I’ve gotta explain the rules of living here before I can go to bed, so answer the door or I’m gonna use my key to get in!”
Dorian takes a breath and I can see him gather his composure as he stands. “I should leave.” He grabs his phone and makes for a quick getaway but looks like he forgot something at the last second. “So you know, I will need to miss our next two lunches as I won’t be in town, but I will be back in time to pick you up for the ball. Goodnight,” he says with a slight and formal bow. Through his formal facade I think I can see just a hint of wistfulness in his eyes that mirrors the feeling running through my whole body.
Out of reflex I answer him “Goodnight,” but only manage barely a whisper in my shocked stupor. Gone the next two days?!? After what he just said? Is he trying to win some kind of award for leaving me hanging? I’m so stunned on multiple accounts that all I can do is mutely watch as he leaves.
Opening the door, Dorian gives a curt nod to the skinny blond that must be my RA leaning up against the door frame. Her ears and face have been stretched in all kinds of peculiar ways from a plethora of piercings running through her skin.
She doesn’t even seem to notice Dorian as they exchange places and she walks into the room.
I try to plaster on a fake smile and say, “Hi” to my new RA. I’m irritated that she interrupted what could have been a first kiss with Dorian, but at least I’m trying to hide it. She doesn’t appear to even make the slightest attempt to hide the general look of distain on her face. I can’t tell if her attitude is aimed at me, or if she is just the type of person that always looks pissed off.
I stand and offer a shy wave at her with my elbow tucked close to my side hoping to defuse any loathing aimed my way. “I’m Ellie, but everyone calls me Lucky.”
“Don’t care.” I’m starting to think her problem is more with me. “I’m just here to tell you to follow the rules. Oh, and don’t kick anyone else out of their room.” She throws a small paper bound book at my feet and says, “Read that. I’ll be watching to see if you step out of line.” Before she’s done speaking, she’s already half way out the door. She then shuts it with loud slam.
I pick up the book at my feet and see a photocopied ½ sheet of paper attached with a paperclip to the front cover. It reads:
Hi,
I’m Rachel , your new Resident Assistant! Welcome to dorm life. I’m here to guide and help you!
�� Let’s have a great year together
That note is the perfect cap to my day. I’m exhausted, emotionally spent and I just can’t handle any more. I curl up in my new soft bed and let my mind rest.
I don’t remember waking up in the night, but I can tell that I didn’t get much rest. Thank goodness I have a backup alarm set on my phone, because I may not have gotten out of bed without it.
I don’t know where to begin on all of my larger issues, so I decide that today I will focus on getting all of my things unpacked and arranged after classes. I feel like it will be a simple and satisfying task which is exactly what I need right now to give my emotions a break.
I make it through my morning classes by trying to focus on the lectures as much as possible. A few thoughts about the extra five million dollars sitting in my account and the things that Dorian said sneak their way into my head, but I quickly try to push them out.
Without a lunch date, I decide to drive to the local Subway and eat there alone. I can’t face all of the pride my folks would throw at me, or the mess that awaits in my new dorm room just yet.
The afternoon classes are harder to get through. I wish that Dorian had picked another time to disappear, and not when it feels like there is so much to work out between us. Then, another source of information occurs to me – Coan. He said that I could call him, and I think that’s exactly what I’m going to do. Un-packing can wait for another day – getting answers is what would really make me feel bet
ter.
After class, my single focus is getting back to my new dorm room to figure out how to contact Coan. He said that I should call him, and that he didn’t have a phone, so I’m guessing that I just yell his name? If that doesn’t work, I’ll try to figure out something else, but I at least feel like I should be someplace private and not just scream his name like a lunatic while walking back to the dorms.
I’ve got my key out and ready for the lock before I can even see my door. When I get closer, I can see that someone decorated the message board hanging on my door and the shadowbox next it with wooden letters and some floral scrapbooking accents. My door now looks more like the rest of the rooms in the hall, but I can’t imagine that my RA Rachel would have done anything like this.
When I open the door, I startle a woman who is leaning over the couch wiping the mirror on the wall behind it. She’s dressed in a close fitted blazer with graying hair tied tightly into a bun. When she sees me, her eyes crinkle showing their age and her face lightens with a warm smile.
She puts down the cloth she was using and strides over to me with nothing barring her way. All of the boxes that were piled up in the main room are gone and you can now see the carpet and coffee table without obstruction.
“I’m Mrs. Baker,” she says while holding out her hand. “It’s so nice to meet you, Ellie.” She has a slight British accent and her words are light and bouncing. I like her immediately.
I shake her hand and look around a little worried. “Where are all my things?”
“Oh, I’ve put them away of course, and I’ve just finished giving the room a good tidy. I’m only still here so I can see if there’s anything else you need and to show you round the place a bit.”
“Oh, um…Thank you.” Taking a bit closer look, I see some of my things intermixed into the décor. A picture of me and my folks at the fair last year is on a side table, but I don’t recognize the intricate silver frame it’s in. The bookshelf has my books in it and in one of the spaces is the candy dish that Wyatt’s grandma gave me when I graduated.
Lucky: Dorian Gray Novels Book 1 Page 14
