Darkly Sweet

by Juliann Whicker

  My heart pounded in my chest as I searched for the cage I’d dropped in the scuffle.

  Jackson had it, had Señor Mort, holding the cage high. I studied him and then glanced at Drake who was watching me intently. I hated him watching me, hated how aware I was of him, and (even though he wasn’t my opponent in this battle) hated turning my back on him.

  “Macaroon,” I reminded myself as I swung around to Jackson. I jammed my lollipop in his mouth and leapt to snag the cage, landing without mishap in my heels with Señor Mort who was hopefully only shaken up and not completely unhinged. From the scuffling beneath the floral cover, unhinged was coming really fast.

  “So nice to meet all of you,” I sang as I broke out of the perfect circle with my cage swinging in a dangerous arc that kept back any other would-be rugby players. Señor Mort wasn’t the only one close to unhinged.

  Chapter 3

  I had to find my way to Lilac dorm on my own. Apparently, my encounter with the glossy high-maintenance clique took too much time for Viney and Zach. I knew that Viney had intentionally thrown me into the lion’s den, probably to watch the ensuing hilarity, which if it hadn’t been me would have been pretty awesome, watching me knock over the most beautifully vile creature in the world. Since it was me, not so great, in fact pretty much the most humiliating thing ever. What had that been? “I hate him,” I muttered to myself as I walked around, aimlessly. I hung onto the manic smile while the caffeine made me bounce from one wall to another until I found the wing off a large hall with a small plaque, Lilac Stories. I was practically home.

  I walked down the cream-pillared hall until I reached a large lilac room. All right, let’s get right into how nauseating a room looks utterly swathed in lilac. There weren’t any windows in the room, but that didn’t stop someone from hanging velvet lilac drapes on the wall over pastoral scenes that were again lilac, lilac shrubs, lilac sheep with a splash or two of eggplant to keep things nauseating, I mean interesting. A TV screen hung over

  an amethyst studded purple granite fireplace on the far wall. My four enormous trunks were stacked outside of what must have been my room, and Viney stood with Zach, staring like they’d never seen nineteenth century shipping trunks before.

  Lilac did not look good on me. “There you are! And here is my luggage. What time is dinner, do you know? Is this my key?”

  I ripped off the key that was taped to the white painted door and held the large, old fashioned thing in my hands. I could unpick a lock that took this kind of key in the dark, blindfolded, with my hands tied behind my back while juggling octopuses. Well, weasels anyway.

  I smiled as I spotted the package on top of one of the trunks. My real lock had come.

  Being the kind of person I was, and knowing that Viney was a little bit like me, there was no way I’d ever sleep anywhere close to her without making certain my person was completely inaccessible.

  “These are all yours? What did you pack, a kitchen?” Viney’s brilliance was wearing on my nerves.

  I beamed brightly. “That’s right. I’m going to go bake a batch of cookies right now.

  What kind of cookies do you like? Zach, can you help me with this end? Thanks, yeah, watch your fingers.”

  I got all the trunks in my room with very little space to spare even though the room was large. I wasn’t in the same dorm as Zach on accident. Viney was suspicious, but if she wasn’t his girlfriend then she shouldn’t mind if I married him. If she did mind, I would bake her into cookies.

  “When is dinner?” I asked Zach when he backed away from me, towards his own room.

  “The dining room is open from five-thirty until seven.”

  “When are you going?”

  He stared at me, kind of uncomfortable before he glanced at Viney who was studiously pretending like I didn’t exist while she fiddled with her phone. “Maybe six.”

  “Great! I’ll see you then. It was so nice to meet you!”

  I headed to my room, closing my door firmly before I unwrapped the package and installed a security system that might even keep Poppy out. I barely finished up at five-fifty, but when I closed the door and looked around, no Zach and no Viney.

  I knocked on their doors, nothing, so after pushing back my long, adorably curly hair, I stuck a lollypop in my mouth and headed down the hall toward the main building. It was easy enough to find the dining hall. First, all the students were flowing in that general direction, secondly, it smelled like food and I was hungry. Starving.

  The dining room was a lot like my dining room at home times twenty with long tables and windows that looked out on a well-groomed garden.

  As I walked in, Viney and Zach walked towards me on their way out. Viney smiled at me, apparently jubilant that she’d managed to eat in a half an hour so she could leave with Zach before I’d arrived.

  Was this a challenge? I smiled at her sweetly. “Oh no, you guys are leaving already?

  Oh, well. I’ll see you later. Maybe we can hang out after I finish unpacking.”

  I patted Zach’s shoulder and waved at Viney before walking cheerfully over to the line where people waited to make their high-class selections.

  “Hi! I’m Penny,” I loudly introduced myself to the people in front of me.

  They were a girl and a boy who were somewhere beneath the glossies in their grooming habits, but definitely above Zach. The girl rolled her eyes while the guy leaned towards me.

  “Penny? Is that your regular fee, because the way you threw yourself at Drake…”

  The girl elbowed him and turned, trying to ignore me and him.

  I stared at him while I sucked on my lollipop—Lavender and dirt—before I smiled brightly. I was nice, super nice, and I didn’t break people into pieces for looking at me wrong. “Oh no, Penny is my name,” I said slowly so he could understand. “It’s so horrible

  that I wrinkled his pants. They were really nice. I hope they didn’t get grass stained.

  What’s the best thing to eat here?”

  The girl pointedly ignored me while the guy stared blatantly at my legs. I’d wanted to look cute and nice, but that look in his eyes wasn’t nice at all. I sucked on my lollipop and swished my skirt so it went up even higher. His eyes widened for a second before he took a half step closer to me like a predator after a sweet bit of flesh. Suddenly the guy stopped snickering and turned around, his face blank. It was like he suddenly remembered that his mother was deathly ill in the hospital of something really gruesome and slow, like sepsis, or gangrene, or where all your guts spill out on the ground steaming.

  “You could try the rosemary garlic lamb unless you’re a vegetarian.” A guy’s voice pooled around me, low, hot and fragrant at the same time, not like evisceration except kind of exactly like that. His voice gutted me.

  It took me a second to realize that I was holding my breath while my heart pounded and my skin kind of went all tight. I inhaled sharply before I slowly and cautiously turned around. Drake stood behind me, no closer or further from anyone else in line, but it seemed like he was far too close, too close and possibly even more beautiful than the first time I’d seen him. I stared at him stupidly, his supple mouth, strong jaw, straight

  nose, dark eyes flecked with green, with the red hair in a different mussy style, after I’d ruined his first one probably.

  He opened his soft lips to say something brilliant. “The line has moved.”

  I nodded slowly until I realized what he’d said and then whirled around to find that indeed, the line had moved, and I had not.

  “Haven’t you ever stood in line before?” He sounded amused.

  I was going to light him on fire and force him to eat a tray if he sounded amused again. I struggled to hang onto my smile as I nodded and quickly caught up with the end of the line. “Of course. I’ve gone to movies. There are lines at the movie usually, especially for popcorn. Do you like popcorn? I think it tastes like plastic, but I really like it. I love the way they call it ‘butter’, like soy based mono-ni
trates can possibly be related to actual butter. I’m sorry for earlier, for knocking you down. I always say I’m just like a ballerina without any grace.” I inhaled deeply because it didn’t seem like I could stop the mindless yammering otherwise. I gave him a quick smile while he stared back, face bored.

  “I don’t think you’re anything like a ballerina.”

  I winced and then faced forward just in time to take a large clump of potatoes to the back of my head. My head jerked forward and kind of pulled my neck. It would take forever to wash potatoes out of my hair.

  I sighed and rubbed it out, not bothering to turn around and see who had thrown it while I licked potatoes off my fingers. Potatoes assault was so much lovelier than trying to talk to the revoltingly drool-worthy mage.

  “Who knew that potatoes could have so much recoil splatter.”

  I glanced cautiously back at Drake and saw him dabbing at his school blazer with a handkerchief, a small rose embroidered in the corner of the white square.

  I wanted to feel satisfied that potatoes dared touch the perfection that was Drake Huntsman, but he looked utterly delicious in potatoes. My traitorous mouth actually watered. “Oh, I’m so sorry. It should wash out, though, right? Potatoes don’t really seem like something that would stain.”

  He glanced back up at me. “Why are you apologizing for being hit?”

  Something about the way he said that reminded me of my mother, the way she asked me why I’d done something particularly stupid if she happened to notice me. I shrugged while I struggled to hang onto my vacuous smile. “It wouldn’t have hit me if I

  weren’t so tall. I know that you think I’m not much like a ballerina, but I have very long limbs, a long neck, and a long torso.”

  “So it’s your fault for being too tall?” His lips curled deliciously. I wanted to touch his lips and see if they were as soft as they looked.

  I shrugged again, while I forced myself to study his strong slender hands wiping off potatoes instead of staring at his lips. “Just because I’m sorry doesn’t mean it’s my fault, just that I’m sad for you. Responsibility should be something you accept, something you ask for. Empathy is free.” Empathy for Drake Huntsman, ha! I felt bad for his jacket, though. That jacket was so beautifully cut, shaped perfectly to his exquisite shoulders.

  No, not his shoulders, his jacket. Penny, keep it together.

  He narrowed his eyes at me. “Do you know what Harold meant?”

  “Who?”

  He nodded towards the guy whose leer had miraculously vanished once Drake came on the scene, like Drake was the big predator and all the other animals had to turn over the easy prey to him. I was prey? That was funny. I did want to give that impression, though. I needed a mage to think that he’d caught me. Not Drake Huntsman. I wasn’t stupid enough to think I could play that game with him and come out of it heart and soul intact. Not with how stupid I was around him right off the bat.

  “Fee, like for my stand-up routine?”

  “More like your fall down routine.” He smirked and leaned a little bit closer. He didn’t stare at my legs, though. He seemed to only see my eyes, like he was searching for all of my secrets and inadequacies, those far more interesting to him than a pair of legs, however long and well-lotioned.

  “Oh.” I wracked my brain for something sweet and clever, but I was all out of dialogue, smart or otherwise. He was waiting for me to show my cards, to become one of the squealing rabbits who wanted to hang on every word and look, make it last forever. Was I doing that? I turned around just in time to move along with the line.

  I tried not to notice him right behind me, but my heart was pounding in my chest not unlike a frightened little rabbit. He was just so beautiful. I wanted to gaze at him like an unearthly perfect piece of art. I should put my skirt on him so I could ogle his legs.

  “I admit that I’ve very rarely been swept off my feet as thoroughly as this afternoon.

  What’s your secret?” His voice was low, intimate, like this was a private conversation, not a few words exchanged in the middle of a moving line.

  “Um, I guess when you fall down a lot, like me, the secret is to get back up again.”

  “How long does it usually take your partners to get back up again?”

  The girl in front of me made a choking sound.

  I wrinkled my nose and turned around. “I don’t have a partner. I’m sorry if I gave the impression of intentionally falling on you or something, but I assure you that I had absolutely no intention knocking you down or touching you at all, ever. I really hope that your wool is okay. And you, of course. I hope that nothing’s bruised.”

  He put a hand to his chest with a dramatic sweep. “You bruise my heart. I tell you that our encounter made an impression and you discount it as nothing.” His eyes filled with tears while his lips quivered.

  I rubbed the back of my neck when I really wanted to bite my thumbnail off, or his head. Macaroons. I was a macaroon. His eyes were really green when he gazed at me like that, filled with turbulent emotion like I’d actually hurt him.

  I licked my lips. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to hurt your feelings. I’m sure you’re very nice, but your shins were really bony.”

  He curled his mouth in a half smile while the moisture in his eyes vanished.

  “Everyone’s shins are bony. Apparently you need to fall on a few more men so you can appreciate the wonderfulness of my shins. I’ve had poems written about them. Reams and reams. The line has once more moved ahead without you my Pretty Penny.”

  I turned around and hurried to catch the end of the line, my emotions still whiplashed from his apparent ability to produce tears and emotions at will. Just as I

  suspected, more diabolical than anything I’d ever encountered. I had to stay far, far away from him.

  He disturbed me on pretty much every level. He was the epitome of everything I’d sworn I would never fall for the way that Poppy… Thinking about her certainly made me stiffen up and stop trying to smell him. He had the most tantalizing scent, like musk and a hint of cherries. Black cherries. I focused on dinner, on the beautiful rosemary garlic lamb and the lovely potatoes that I intended to eat instead of getting pummeled with.

  “Good choice,” he murmured before he took his plate at the end of the line and walked off to a small table at the corner with only two chairs. I did not follow him even though it took me a few seconds to stop looking at him walk in that easy swagger that made his hips look particularly narrow and his shoulders perfectly strong and wide. I shook my head and took my plate to the middle of a long table where I could get knocked and bumped by everyone who walked by, picking up more delicious things in my hair. I would have to wash it, but later, after I’d unpacked. I had a lot of unpacking to do and I wouldn’t be able to relax until I’d lit something on fire.

  Chapter 4

  Sunday afternoon, the day before classes started, I was finally finished with the forest bower that was my bedroom, except for the swing. Close enough. I stood back and admired my bed where it hung from the ceiling, draped in curtains and tapestries that hadn’t fit on the walls. My Bunsen burners and tubes, jars, blender, and mortar and pestle were neatly arranged on shelves with enough head space I could actually use them there, while the table that took the place of the old desk was a charming drop leaf that I’d arranged between my swing bed and the chair that had come with the desk. I’d set the table with Grandmama’s pink lace tablecloth and glass tea set, with beautiful pink rose china.

  I checked my reflection in the elaborate mirror, the edges carved with branches and leaves and nodded at myself. I’d piled my hair up on my head in an elaborate updo, studded with red and pink roses and cupcakes suitable for a candy duchess while my dress, pink with red ruffles and trim had an even shorter skirt than my pleated school uniform. I looked ridiculous particularly with my bright red lips, rosy cheeks and fake eyelashes, but hopefully it would make an impression on Zach, you know, the good kind.

  My heart pound
ed as I opened the door and clasped my hands in their little lace glovelets. I smiled at Zach and Viney where they sat on a couch, Zach holding a guitar and Viney a screen.

  I cleared my throat and they both looked over at me. I beamed at them. “I would like to invite you to my tea party to celebrate the completion of my woodland boudoir!”

  Viney choked on her laugh, staring at me like I’d sprouted an extra head, which my enormous hair admittedly might look like if you squinted. Zach’s eyes widened, but he didn’t seem disgusted. He looked at Viney, waiting for her reaction. That look was a problem. He waited for her to tell him what he thought. I’d have to displace her as the female he followed like a good little puppy. Would I have to kill her? No, that would be too easy.

  It took her a minute for her sputtering shock to fully transform into contemptuous derision. “A tea party? Do you we look like five-year-olds? What are you wearing? You look like a bonbon.”

  I took a deep breath and beamed at her. “Oh, bonbons! I love bonbons but I didn’t get any. Just macaroons and lady fingers. I don’t really know any five-year-olds, but I think that they would be even shorter than you, Viney. So, do you guys want to come?”

  Viney stood up and grabbed Zach, pulling him up with her. “No. We’re playing video games. It’s really important.” She snickered again, not bothering to cover her mouth or pretend like she wasn’t laughing at me.

  I stood there and tried to compose a poem inside my head about macaroons so that I didn’t break Zach’s guitar over Viney’s head and strangle her with the strings.

  Macaroons could come in pink balloons

  And you could eat them with a spoon

  But the true joy of the macaroon

  Is stuffing them in eye sockets after you’ve ripped out someone’s eyeballs.

  “What kind of tea are you having?”

  I looked past Viney who had come to a sudden halt and saw Drake by the door wearing a black jacket that was way too gorgeous to be a school uniform. Whoever made his jackets was a master.