Finn narrowed his eyes, his lips pursed together as if I told a lie.
“What?”
“You going unnoticed is like ignoring a rainbow after a heavy rainfall.”
I sat up so we faced one another. “I’m not sure I follow.”
“After every rainfall there’s a rainbow because rainbows are a promise. A promise that there will always be a light in the darkness. That’s why they are too beautiful to overlook.” His hand crept along my cheek, brushing away the fallen strands of my hair. The same strange look came over him, as if he wasn’t present at all, but somewhere else, in a strange memory. “You, Norah, are our light.”
I swallowed hard. “Where’s the darkness?”
His eyes were trained, like he was under a spell, unable to move away or stop looking at me. “Wherever you aren’t.” In our closeness I smelt it, the faint trickle of liquor deep within him, flowing through him like blood.
A faint bell rang in the distance. And then he blinked. His hand fell from my face and he cleared his throat. “Reality beckons.”
I had to wait almost an entire week to use the phone. Talk about hell. They had some lame rule about having to sign up ahead of time and there were only so many slots. Such bull. Thank god for combat class where I could kick someone’s ass without getting in trouble.
My back slammed into the mat with a loud thud. A heavy groan escaped my lips. The sword clanked against the ground beside me. A rush pulsed through my veins, the old familiar feeling, like for a second I wasn’t homesick or sad. The world was normal. Well, as normal as it could be.
Finn’s chest rose up and down as he tried to catch his breath. He rolled on his side and stared at me, his eyes wider than I’d ever seen them. Sweat dripped down his forehead, coating his neck and arms.
“How the hell did you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Don’t act all innocent.” He stretched his arms up over his head. “I’ve never seen a girl use a sword so well. Not even the pirate girls.”
I copied his stretch and my entire back cracked. So good. “My dad was into combat.” No, Dad was obsessed with combat, thus forcing his obsession onto me. Not that I minded kicking hot boys’ butts and showing off my mad skills.
“Combat, huh?” He crossed his legs. I did the same. “What’d your mom think of that?”
“I imagine she wouldn’t approve.” I ran my hands through my damp, sweat filled hair. “But she’s not a part of my life.”
“That sucks,” he said. It had sucked, especially since my dad never talked to me about what really happened between them, why she left, where she went, if she was even still alive. And it sucked even more when he tried to have “the talk” with me about boys and sex and “menstruation.” Awkward, to say the least. Having a mom would have been nice.
“It’s probably better that way.”
“What do you mean?”I bit on my bottom lip and rose to my feet. Grabbing the sword off the floor, I headed toward the rack where the weapons were. Finn followed close. “The expectations aren’t as high for you.”
I wish. If anything, I had always felt the expectations were higher because I didn’t have a mom. April’s mom died in a freak accident only two years after they’d been married. April was a couple months old and Dad was in way over his head. They needed someone to take care of them. Cooking, cleaning, dishes, shopping, it all fell on my shoulders. Not that I’d complained, I never did, not once, in fear if I had, he’d either A) Find a wife, probably one I hated or B) Send me away to school where my privileges were limited.
And what do you know? Despite my silent suffering I still got screwed, and here I was, at possibility B. At least he hadn’t found some floozy to marry.
“Today’s the big day, right?” he asked.
I scooped my books from the floor and nodded. “Yes, it is.”
Overhead the bell rang and I bounced on the tips of my toes, said good-bye and darted out the door. I had one mission now. The phone. I stepped into the hall and Danielle bombarded me, questioning why I sat alone in lunch instead of with her. As if the reasoning wasn’t because of what happened last Wednesday with the quill and how freaky the situation was.
Finn was the only person who didn’t pry about what happened with the quill or comment on my lack of classification. Why hadn’t he? He should have been as curious as the rest of the student body, yet he never asked. My pace slowed as Pearl greeted him by throwing her long pale arms around his neck. Her firecracker red hair was fishtailed to the side. I pushed him out of my head and hurried to the office. If I didn’t make it on time, I wouldn’t get to call. And it would be a dark day in hell that I missed talking to my dad.
Today was the day I waited all week for. The day I would tell him to come get me.
The office was crowded and musty, students sat along the walls waiting to be called in, while I wrote my name on the clipboard and entered a different room. Cubbies lined the wall, a corded phone sat in each one beside a clock.
The desk rattled when I dropped my bag and sat down. I took several soothing breaths before picking up the phone and dialing the same number I’d memorized when I was three. Remember your story Norah. April is unhappy. They separated us. It’s not working here.
After three rings he answered, “Professor Hart speaking.”
“Dad!” Tears swelled in my eyes.
“Ah, my baby.” I could almost hear him smiling through the phone. “I wondered when I’d hear from you.”
“I would’ve called sooner. You have no idea how hard it is to get my hands on a phone,” I muttered, glancing over my shoulder.
“How do you like it there?” he asked. “Headmistress Madrina said you’re having some trouble.”
“You spoke with her?”
He chuckled. “I have to keep tabs on you. Especially after the camp incident.”
One year, he sent me to sleep away camp and I called him like five times a day begging to be picked up. I sent threatening letters, too. The camp told him I was fine. But I wasn’t. The counselors didn’t know some stupid girls poured honey on me while I slept and soaked my training bra in toilet water and put red ants in my bed. I itched thinking about it.
“Gosh, you’d love Moscow, kiddo,” he said. “The culture is so rich and vibrant. The food, well, you’d hate it. You’re always so picky, but I love it.”
“I bet I would. Speaking of which—”
“Oh, I ate the craziest thing yesterday.” He interrupted what would have been the greatest speech in the history of speeches to get out of something. Instead he talked about how happy he was, how much he loved his job and the people he worked with. The more he did, the weaker I became. He was living his dream, after years of caring for me. He was so young when he had me and raised me all alone, no support and no money. Just me, him, and the occasional baby sitter. And then, in Holland, he met Alana, April’s mom.
I dreaded to call my dad a player, but he was, and having babies made him a chick magnet. I don’t know how he got his PhD and raised two kids and managed a hefty social life. He had to be super dad or something. Even so, wherever he was, we were. He called me his Porta-Baby when I was younger, bringing me everywhere and anywhere.
And for as long as I could remember that’s how I was, always by his side wherever he went, ready for the next adventure. Some people, like his parents, criticized his parental skills, saying he deprived me of a normal life, of friends, and the opportunity to run track or be a cheerleader. But I was so not cheerleader material and traveling made me worldly. How many seventeen-year-olds could say that?
“The headmaster told me April’s doing well. I know you two aren’t together now, but the separation might do you two some good. She’s never had to be on her own before. Hell, neither have I. At least this is practice for when you go off to college and leave me. But she did tell me that you’ve been having a hard time making friends.”
“It’s not what—”
“Tell me it isn’t so, pum
pkin? You’ve always been a magnet.”
My jaw dropped, he sounded like one of our therapists. April was not adjusting. She wouldn’t even speak to me! Then it struck me hard in the face. Telling Dad the truth did no good. Not now. Not after Madrina told him otherwise. She made me look like some horrible daughter who didn’t fit in and April a saint. My fists clenched at my sides and tears built inside.
The nerve to tell him the truth faded. “No, I’m doing fine here.”
“I’m going to France for a week, not sure what my signal will be like, but I’ll keep my phone at my side as much as possible.”
An elderly woman came to my desk and tapped on her arm. Time’s up.
“All right.” I choked back a sob. “Send me a postcard?”
“Deal. I love you, kiddo.” Thoughts of France danced in my head. The museums were some of my favorite. When I was younger, Dad and I raced up the Eiffel Tower. My feet hurt for days, but I didn’t care.
“Love you, too, Dad.”
I batted away the tears and sunk in the seat. The line clicked over. Fifteen minutes. That was all the time I’d had to hear his voice and yet I’d told him nothing. How could I be saved from this miserable fairy tale craziness if I didn’t have the courage to tell my dad the truth?
I wandered out of the office and into the empty halls. Classes had ended and students were in their dorms. Danielle said something about a mixer tonight, but I didn’t want to go anywhere but the dorm where I could cry into my pillow and hate myself for my inability to tell Dad.
I crossed the courtyard and stopped in the middle, unable to make it any further. Leaning against the wall, I slid down, trying to steady my breathing. It wouldn’t take long to pack. I could easily slip out at night and run away. April would never know because she refused to say a freaking word to me. If I showed up on his doorstep he couldn’t refuse me.
The door leading to the courtyard opened and a girl stumbled out. Her cardigan caught on the door. Balancing books on one hip, she tried to unhook her cardigan, but couldn’t. Long, straggly pieces of blonde hair fell over her thick glasses. It was the same girl from the first day but I didn’t know her name, even though we had two classes together.
Using the rock for support, I pushed myself up and hurried toward her, wiping the tears from my eyes. She didn’t even notice me till I tugged the material from the door and set her free. Lowering her head, she cowered away. I saw firsthand how ugly people were to her, calling her names, throwing objects. I hated it. Bullies were the scum of the Earth.
“Thanks.” Even with the scar, she was beautiful. Only the edges contorted, the rest of her face was smooth and blemish free. Plus, the way her hair fell, you barely saw it.
“No problem.” I smiled half heartedly. “I don’t think we met, like, officially. I’m Norah.” Norah who doesn’t like to shake hands and this girl didn’t offer, which made me like her already.
“Kate.”
“You’re really good with potions, right?” Her eyes shifted away from mine. “Any advice? I can’t seem to master any of these classes, which is not normal for me considering my dad is a professor. Well, more of a wannabe novelist, but still.”
Kate narrowed her eyes and a wave of irritation filled them. “You don’t have to pretend to be nice to me.”
I blanched. “Why would I pretend?”
“Because, you’re one of them.” Kate stormed away, tripping over one of the broken pieces of pavement. For being unlabeled, Kate sure did jump to put one on me. Princess or not, Danielle was just like any other mean girl you’d find in school. And as someone who attended her far share of schools, I knew them by their Dolce and Gabbana perfume.
“You never cease to amaze me, little princess.”
Holding in my groan was not possible. Maybe if I closed my eyes and clicked my heels three times I’d find my way back home again. Wolf strutted forward. His musky, pine scent wrapped around me like a warm blanket.
He nodded toward the direction Kate headed. “Looks like you met our resident loser.”
“Do you even know her well enough to call her that?”
His lips curled into a cunning smile. “Goldilocks keeps to herself.”
Kate hurried down the long path to the dorms. My own memories, memories I tried hard to forget, flooded into my mind, reminding me of who I used to be—a girl just like her. Tortured, picked on, and hated for no reason besides the fact that the mean girls sensed weakness in me.
“I know that look in your eyes,” he said. “You want to help her.”
I snapped my attention to him and crossed my arms over my chest. “First off, you shouldn’t know that look and second, what if I do?” I asked. “She deserves a friend.” Wolf stared at me like a science experiment again. “Why are you staring at me like that?”
A five o’clock shadow coated his rough skin and he breathed in, as if to smell me. I shivered, but not in a disgusted way. In a way that made me want to take a step closer, his eyes were beautifully intoxicating.
“Most princesses run at the sight of me.”
I leaned against the tree for support. “You’re not scary.”
“Of course I am. I’m a villain.” Wolf flashed his big white teeth at me. They were slightly bigger and sharper than the average person, not that I spent a lot of time looking at people’s teeth, but they stood out. Come to think of it, his ears were a little bigger too, and his eyes.
“Let me guess, the Big Bad Wolf?” I examined him, wondering why I never noticed it before. His burly hands could kill someone. “Frightening.” I raised my hands and pretended to be terrified. “But you’re wrong about one thing. I’m not a princess. I don’t claim to be perfect like the others. What if I’m a villain, too? Hell, maybe we’re all villains, we just don’t know it because not everyone has snapped yet.”
“Naw. You wouldn’t be so worried about Kate if you were.”
He was right, but only about the Kate thing. Order wasn’t something I’d obsessed over. And I sure as hell wasn’t going to start because someone told me to.
“You’re so wound up, like a volcano ready to explode.” Wolf’s hand grazed my shoulder. A strand of my sandy hair slipped between his fingers and he twisted it, his attention pinned to the smoothness. A lump built in my throat, his touch clouding my mind. “There’s a party tonight. South end of the woods, you should come, release some of that tension. I, for one, would love to see an unleashed princess.”
His hand slipped away, leaving me slightly off-center. A villain party? Could be fun, but I needed his help first. While I cringed to ask Wolf for anything, I couldn’t pass up the opportunity.
“I’ll go. But I have one condition.”
Amusement twisted his wolfish features. “Only one? Do tell.”
“Show me where my sister’s dorm is.”
He raised an eyebrow. His attention flickered to my mouth and back up again. “What makes you think I know where she is?”
“Because you know everything.” I licked my lips, nibbling on the bottom one. His nostrils flared and the crimson flecks in his eyes darkened, dominating the gold. I bit back the smile pinching my cheeks and let out a breath. “Or so I thought.” I rubbed behind my neck and shrugged. “I was wrong. I guess I could always ask a prince or something.”
“No.” Tipping his head back he groaned, and he may have growled a little too. “You owe me. Big.”
As expected, Wolf knew where April’s dorm was. He left me alone at the entrance with instructions on how to get to her room. A part of me wondered how he knew so much, but the better part of my brain told me not to question it.
Knocking twice without a response, I tried the door knob. Unlocked. When I entered her room, April sat on her bed, doodling on her hand with a thin brown marker. Besides the bed and two worn, russet suitcases, there was not a single thing about the room that suggested someone lived there. As if the lifeless and unadorned stone walls weren’t enough to unsettle me about April’s condition, the lack of a secon
d bed confirmed my worst fear. They had her by herself. No roommate. No one to make sure she didn’t succumb to her worst thoughts. She should not have been left alone. I’d be taking this up with Madrina tomorrow.
“I knew I should’ve locked the door.” April kept her attention trained to the drawing. Her hair canopied over her face, masking the expression of annoyance she always had around me.
“You never told me where they put you. I’ve been looking all week.”
Ink spread over her skin, the henna-like designs twisted in intricate patterns covering her entire palm. I smiled, despite myself, remembering the summer we spent in Morocco.
“I didn’t tell you for a reason,” April said. “Professor Jansen said I didn’t have to see you if I didn’t want to.”
“That’s a little harsh.” I sat on the edge of the bed, holding my arms close to me. “Come on, April. Can’t we put the past behind us? I miss you. I want us to be close, like sisters should be.”
“Yeah, right,” she scoffed.
“I’m serious, April.” Why did she have to be so damn hardheaded! “Remember that summer in Paris, I was ten, you were eight. We had so much fun together, like friends.”
She dropped the pen and exhaled so heavily, I thought she was seconds from putting her fist in my face. “I don’t want to walk down memory lane with you, not now, not ever. Get out, Norah. I mean it.”
I’d have preferred to be slapped. She pushed me away at every freaking opportunity. I was so sick of her attitude, her constant need to be alone and away from me. Was it selfish of me to want her to want me around?
“You can push me away all you want, but I’m never going to give up on us. I promise you that.”
The expression she shot back at me made me wish I was dead. “For both of our sakes, I hope this is one promise you don’t keep.” April’s hatred grew by the day. All because she was convinced Dad favored me.
The Forgotten Fairytales Page 6
