by Bailey James
O-kay, then.
I stare at the phone in my hand. That was weird. Ty’s usually a boy of few words, but that was ridiculous. My headache roars in my temples, and I decide to sit on my bed to determine if him being so short is a good thing or a bad thing.
Not even five minutes later, a screech of rubber on asphalt pulls me from my thoughts. I run to my window, my eyebrows flying up when I see Ty running up to the house. I wince when I run a glance over the state of my room. It’s a disaster, but instead of worrying about what he’ll think of the mess, I’m more concerned with what he’ll think if he sees my mirror on the floor under my bed. And, so, being careful not to look at the reflective surface, I take it back out and hang it on the wall again just in time for the doorbell to ring.
I make my way slowly out my door and down the stairs, every single ache and pain in my body getting worse with each downward step. By the time I get downstairs, Ty and my parents are in the living room.
“It’s nice to finally see you, Tyler,” Dad says, and I hear a hint of something I don’t recognize from him in his tone, “but under the circumstances, I think we should let Lily rest.”
I appreciate his concern, but I’ve missed Tyler. The last thing I want to do is rest when I can be with Ty.
“I’m fine, Dad. Really. I don’t mind.” I step into the room, announcing my presence.
Tyler stands immediately, his gray eyes turning sad when he sees me. I bite my lip, remembering what my face looks like.
“Honey, you should be sleeping,” Mom says, but she loves Ty so I know she’ll let him stay.
“Mom, really, I’m fine.”
“I won’t stay long, Mrs. Baker.” Tyler doesn’t take his eyes off me, and there’s so much depth in them it has my pulse jumping all over the place. “I know she’s probably exhausted from what she went through, but I had to see for myself that she’s okay.”
Dad opens his mouth to say something, but Mom nudges him with her elbow. He sighs before narrowing his gaze at Ty. “I understand, son. I’d need to do the same if it was Wendy. But when we say it’s time to leave, you leave.”
“Yes, sir. Of course.” He hasn’t taken his eyes from mine. Before either of my parents can change their mind, I grab Tyler’s hand with my good one and drag him up to my room.
The minute the door shuts, Tyler grabs me into a hug so gentle, it makes me want to cry. His hands roam down my arms and up my back, over my throat to cup my cheeks between his hands as if reassuring himself I am in one piece.
Apparently satisfied, he presses his lips to mine. The kiss is just as gentle as his touch but somehow desperate, and my head spins, my legs wobbling. He only holds on tighter and pushes me over to sit on my bed.
When he pulls back, his eyes search my face before gently touching the gash along my hairline. “What happened?”
I want to tell him the truth, or what I think is the truth, but I know he’s only going to think I hit my head too hard, as everyone else does. Or worse. I’m not about to screw up the relationship with the boy I’ve been head-over-heels for since freshman year with a talk about interdimensional travel and other guys in mirrors.
I stick with the story Mom told me since, if I’m honest with myself, it is probably the truth anyway. “Another driver hit me and knocked my car through the guardrail and into the lake. I, somehow, managed to get myself out, but it was a good thing a passing driver called it in because the other driver never stopped.”
His face fills with horror, and he hugs me so tight I squeak when I breathe. “Sorry,” he says quickly. His hands cup my face, his thumbs caressing across my cheekbones, before he ducks his head and meets my lips with his. My head swims, and when he pulls back, I stare at him in a daze, my head foggy with the hormones he always incites in me.
A smile graces his lips, and I return it, loving the butterflies that flop around my stomach like they always do when we’re together. He leans in again and I eagerly press my lips to his, wanting another mind-numbing kiss.
His hands roam my body again, but this time, it’s not about looking for injuries and his hand slides underneath my shirt and up to cup my breasts through my bra. When he sneaks his fingers under the lace of the cups to run them over my bare flesh, though, and while a few days ago I would have pushed him away, now I let him—life’s too damn short to not do things I like for propriety’s sake.
Feeling watched, I glance over to the mirror. For half of a second, I think I see Jackson looking back at me, but upon a second glance, there’s nothing. No gold glow, no strange boy, not even a slight shimmer; nothing to tell me that I wasn’t just daydreaming. I continue to look at it, willing him to show up, to prove to me I’m not going crazy. Because if he shows up now, Tyler will have to see him, too. Of course, that’s not what happens, and the mirror remains normal.
“Lily? What are you looking at?” Tyler asks, drawing my attention back to him with a frown.
I cringe. “Nothing. I…uh…just saw how awful I looked in the mirror.” Vanity is something Ty understands. The guy spends twice as long as I do getting his hair in that perfectly disheveled way he likes to wear it. It’s a constant source of teasing between the two of us. And, at least, it’s more believable than me daring an other-dimensional being to show itself in my bedroom mirror.
“It’s not that bad,” he says, but he won’t meet my eyes.
I have to laugh. It’s so obvious he’s trying not to hurt my feelings, but—come on, let’s face it—I look awful. But it’s adorable that he’s trying to make me feel better.
“It’s that bad,” I say with a smile.
He tries not to grin, but the left side of his mouth quivers. “Well, you do look a little…banged up.”
I snort. “That’s the understatement of the century.”
His grin grows larger, showcasing the to-die-for dimple in his right cheek, and I almost sigh when I see it. “Okay, you look…miserable, but,” he smacks a kiss to my lips, making my heart quiver, “considering what you went through, you’re lucky to be alive.” The grin falls off his lips as if he just remembered how lucky I truly am.
I scoff. “Tell me about it.” I scoot further onto the bed so I can hug my knees, even though the cast makes it a bit difficult. “What happened? How come no one could get ahold of you?”
He frowns at my cast, pain ricocheting behind his eyes, when he drags them back up to meet mine. “I’m so sorry, baby. There’s no reception on that stupid island.”
As soon as he says it, it comes back to me. The island’s residents didn’t want an ugly cell tower in their pristine town, so the entire area was a dead zone. That had been one of the reasons my parents hadn’t wanted me to stay the week there for Ty’s birthday. I was lucky they even let me go down for day trips.
“But,” I say, “it’s been days, Ty.”
He sighs and drags a hand down his face, before resting both hands on my hips, as if he can’t bear to stop touching me. “I know I was an asshole both for pushing you too far and for the argument after, so, at first, I just thought you were really upset with me and needed space, so I was giving it to you. Then I was hurt that you didn’t show for my birthday. The guys even teased me that I’d finally pissed you off enough for you to leave my stupid pushy ass.” He gives me a self-deprecating grin and I return it. At least he knows he’s a little bit forceful.
“So, how did you know today?”
“Well, I was starting to get really worried, and I was planning on driving off the island to call and beg for forgiveness when I just happened to glance at the television in our room. I noticed your car being dragged out of the lake.” His eyes take on a haunted look. “It was awful. The car’s all but scrap. The only thing recognizable about it was the back glass with that stupid fairy on it.” He crushes me to his chest again, and luckily my arm isn’t in the way this time, but it jostles all my other aches and pains and I hav
e to swallow a groan. “My heart fell through the floor, Lil. I thought you’d died.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper into his chest. “I can’t believe I almost lost you.” He leans down and kisses me again.
I groan when someone knocks. “Lily? It’s time for Tyler to leave now,” Mom calls through the door.
“But he just got here.” I make a face at her, even though she can’t see it.
“Five more minutes, young lady. That’s it.” Her footsteps pad down the stairs. “And stop making that face at me.”
“How does she always do that?” I whisper.
Tyler just grins at me, the one I love that has both his dimples popping out. It makes the butterflies active again. His arms tighten around me, pulling me in against his chest, and I lean into him, savoring the sound of his heartbeat and the feel of being in his embrace.
Entirely too soon, Mom knocks on the door again, peeking her head around it this time. “Time’s up, kids.”
I open my mouth to object, but Tyler says, “It is late, Lily. I’ll stop by tomorrow. If that’s okay.” He looks over at Mom, who nods with a smile.
I peek at the mirror with a frown. “How early can you come?”
He grins. “The minute you call, I’m not going back to the hotel.”
“You’re giving up your birthday week for me?”
He kisses the top of my head. “Of course.”
My heart swells even as I feel guilty he’s giving up his fun for me.
Mom smiles. “Well, I guess another minute won’t hurt. I’ll see you downstairs, Tyler.” She sends him a don’t-push-it look before she leaves.
“Call me the minute you wake up and feel like having visitors, ‘k?” He kisses my lips in that Jimmy Stewart in Rear Window kiss he always does before slowly pulling away. “I’ll be waiting.”
“It could be early,” I warn, my eyes still closed, my lips still pressed lightly against his, and heat swirling in my belly.
“The earlier, the better.” His voice is deep and husky. He kisses me again, and I sigh when he pulls back. “Call me,” he demands. “No matter how early, okay?”
I smile and stand when he does.
“What are you doing?” He frowns at me.
“I’m going to walk you out.”
“No, you’re not. Just stay here. I can find my way out. I’ve been here enough.” I open my mouth to object, but he places his finger over my lips. “Don’t argue. You’re hurt, and I know how to get downstairs.” He kisses my pouting lips before leaving.
I listen as he finds my parents and talks with them for a bit about my concussion, and I groan when they tell him about my episode earlier. They want him to watch me when he comes back.
Great. Now my boyfriend is my babysitter.
What could be better than that? I remain sitting on the bed, pouting. What else could go wrong?
The mirror shimmers, and Jackson stands there, watching me. “Great. Not this again. Can’t I get a break?” I stomp straight over to it, placing both of my palms on the glass. “I. Don’t. Believe. In. You.”
Jackson laughs. “I’m not the Jabberwocky. Telling me I don’t exist won’t make me go away.”
I stare at him, some of my anger draining. “You have Alice in Wonderland?”
“Yeah, it’s a classic here.” He grins.
“Here, too,” I murmur. “Well, of course, it is. It is, after all, my dream, just like in Alice in Wonderland. Now all I need is a fluffy white rabbit with a pocket watch. Then again, maybe the Mad Hatter would be better company.”
He shakes his head. “You can choose not to believe, but that won’t help us. We need to figure out what’s going on.”
“Nope,” I say, popping the p. “You need to go away. I need to continue my life the way it was going before this mess.”
He sighs and shakes his head but says nothing as I glare at him, daring him to argue. When he doesn’t, I grab each side of the mirror, not caring if my bad arm hurts or not, and rip it from the wall again, shoving it back under my bed.
Chapter Four
I wake in the morning with my head aching. With a wary glance under the bed, I go to the kitchen looking for breakfast and trying to think of what I’ll say to Tyler when I call him. Lost in my practice conversation, I step into the kitchen only to stop short when I notice the man in question sitting at the table with Mom.
What is he doing here? I peer down at my pajama bottoms, which have pink pigs screen-printed on them, by the way, and an oversized ratty t-shirt that hangs past my knees.
Of course. Even after almost a year, I’ve managed to hide most of my ugly, comfy clothes from Ty. So much for that!
They both have empty plates in front of them. Mom’s hands clasp her teacup while Tyler taps his fingers on the table. They both swivel in their chairs to face me when I walk the rest of the way into the room. Without intending to imitate each other, they both scan my appearance and smile at me, and I have to swallow back a chuckle.
“Good morning, honey.” Mom stands up to walk to the stove. “You look better. How do you feel?”
I smile at Tyler and take the seat next to him, letting my fingers trail across the back of his neck as I pass behind him in the hopes of calming the butterflies that have sprouted in nervousness at seeing Ty, and not just because of my PJs.
“I feel pretty good. Head’s a little achy, but nothing a little Motrin won’t cure.”
She pulls a pill bottle from the cabinet and brings it, along with a plate full of eggs and bacon, over and sets it all down in front of me. She watches me until I eat a bite before she smiles.
“It was nice talking to you, Tyler.” After brushing a kiss on my cheek, she exits, leaving a bit of awkwardness behind her because Ty is staring at me like a hawk.
We sit in uncomfortable silence; I have no idea what to say, and I try to force myself to eat. The butterflies in my stomach aren’t willing to settle enough to let me.
“Are you not hungry?” Ty asks, a frown marring his beautiful face.
That’s when I realize I’ve been sitting and staring at my plate for at least five minutes, according to the kitchen clock, so I force myself to take another bite, refusing to look at him.
He reaches out, and his finger traces over one of the smiling pig faces. “I like your pants.”
My cheeks burn with the heat of my blush. “Thanks.”
His hand moves from my thigh to my chin and tilts my head to look at him. “Don’t be embarrassed. I like you for you. Piggy PJs and all.” He grins at me.
I return it. “Thank you.” I smack a kiss to his lips.
“You’re welcome.” He deepens the kiss until my head is swimming and we’re both panting.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, pulling back to focus on my food again. “I thought you were going to wait until I called.”
“Couldn’t sleep. I decided that instead of driving myself crazy waiting for you, I’d just come on over and drive myself crazy here. Your mother was kind enough to make me breakfast.”
I snort. I’m so sure he had to twist her arm to cook. Mom adores Ty. It’s common knowledge and something even Dad teases her about that she practically has a bit of a crush on my boyfriend. Maybe it should squick me out, but I only find it, and her, adorable. She probably jumped at the opportunity to dote on him a little.
“Uh, huh. Sure,” I say with a smile.
He chuckles and rakes his hand through his short dirty-blond hair with a shrug, and I give up on eating. Even though the nervous butterflies are gone, I’m still not hungry. I push the plate away and stand.
“Well, I’m sure you don’t want to sit around in the kitchen the whole day. What would you like to do?”
He raises an eyebrow as if asking me if I’m serious. “I promised your mom I’d make sure you stayed in bed.”
I groan and make a pouty face. “I don’t want to go to bed. I’ve been there too long as it is.” My voice has a distinctive whining quality that I don’t like, but there’s nothing to be done about it.
Ty levels a look at me. “Too bad. If you’re not going to eat, you’re going back to bed. She mentioned the doctor warned you would be tired and have the possibility of becoming dizzy because of the concussion. I don’t want you to hit your head again.”
I have a feeling Mom exaggerated the doctor’s instructions for Ty’s benefit. She’s a notorious worrier—-Rose had to get her drama queen-ness from someone—and she would absolutely see Ty as an ally. I sulk but let him lead me up to my room. An accidental glance at the empty spot on the wall has tears burning the backs of my eyes, serving as the memory of why I removed the mirror. I run a hand over my face, cringing when I skim the bandage on my forehead.
Tyler cups my cheek. “Stop torturing yourself, beautiful. Everything will heal in time, and I don’t care as long as I still have you here with me.” He kisses each scrape, but the butterflies he incites with his touch can’t compete with the hefty lead weight that suddenly drops into my stomach from thinking about the what the implications are of me seeing Jackson in the mirror.
I bite my lip. I will not cry. I will not cry. I’m not a baby. It’s stupid to cry just because I don’t understand what’s going on. A few tears slip down my cheek despite my pleas.
“Hey, hey.” Ty drags me into his lap, so I’m straddling him. “Don’t cry, beautiful. Please don’t cry.” His arms wrap around me and hold me tight against his chest. “It’s fine. They will heal. They’ll go away.”
The physical scars, sure, but who cares when my sanity has possibly crashed around my feet? I’m seeing things in my mirror, things that are so real I can’t distinguish reality from fantasy anymore.
My body shakes with the effort to keep the rest of the tears in; Tyler’s arms are strong and comforting around me. “It’s okay,” he whispers into the top of my head. “I promise it’ll be okay.”
“How?” I whisper. “How? You don’t even know what I’m going through.”
