The Most Special Chosen

by Rachel De La Fuente

  I stop, my lusty smile disappearing, at the look on his face. I can’t figure it out, but it certainly isn’t amusement. Great, he’s gonna think I’m a weirdo.

  “A vampire, Elysabeth? Do you not find them—” His phone ringing cuts him off. “Forgive me, Chérie.” I nod as he answers the phone.

  “Hello, Father . . . I am with Elysabeth, Sir.” He pales, and I squeeze his hand for support, earning me a grateful smile. “ . . . I apologize, Sir, I thought Mother said eight. I must have misheard her. I will be home shortly. Please pass on my apologies.” After another moment, he hangs up the phone.

  He looks down at me sadly. “Elysabeth,” he touches my cheek. “I must go. It seems I am rather late.”

  I sigh and nod. “That’s okay. Thanks for coming to see me. I hope you have a great time in London.”

  “It is only two and a half weeks. It shall pass quickly.” He pulls me to him tightly. “But not quickly enough.”

  “I know.” I pull away so I can look in his eyes. “I’ve known you for such a short time, but I’m positive I’m really going to miss you, Damien.”

  “And I you, Chérie. Our time apart will seem an eternity. I will call you tomorrow. But now I really must leave. Take care, my Elysabeth.” He pulls me to him for a searing kiss, before picking up his gift and walking to the door.

  I hold on to the front door as he walks to his car to keep myself from running to him. “I’ll be counting the days until you return.”

  “As will I, ma chère. As will I.” With those words, he closes his car door and drives away.

  CHAPTER 9

  “Lys! Tree time!”

  I’m grinning madly as I race down the stairs. I love decorating for Christmas. It makes the holiday more real.

  Shawn is standing in the living room with an elf hat on. As I enter, he hands me a Santa hat. Shawn introduced me to the tradition our first Christmas in the townhouse, and we switch roles each year.

  “Shawn, are you ready to get our tree?”

  “Yep!” We root through our stuff in the garage, locating the tree, ornaments, and decorations. It takes us several trips to get everything inside. “Lys, are we starting with the tree or house this year?”

  “House,” I raise my fist and grin. “Loser does the roof lights?”

  “You’re on!” He declares with a grin. Together we chant, “rock, paper, scissors, lizard, Spock!”

  I smack his hand. “Ha! Spock vaporizes lizard! I’ll go grab the ladder.”

  He hangs his head. “Dammit. I’m gonna have sore arms tomorrow.”

  It takes nearly two hours, but we get icicle lights up along the edge of the roof and wrap lights around the top railing of each balcony. A wreath on the front door finishes the exterior.

  Back inside, we crank up the Christmas music and start wrapping garland around the banister.

  “Deck the halls with ball-shaped Dobby’s!”

  “Lys! No replacing lyrics with Harry Potter references,” he whines good-naturedly. “Besides, you decided not to get the Dobby ornament.”

  I stick my tongue out at him once he turns back around. But he knows me way too well because I have to duck as some garland comes flying my way.

  Despite kidding around, we get the house decorated pretty quickly. We’re pulling the tree out of its box when Damien calls me.

  “Shawnie, give me a few, okay?” He nods. “Don’t you dare start the tree without me.” I retreat to the kitchen for a bit of privacy. “Hi Damien!”

  “Elysabeth, how are you?”

  “I’m pretty good.” He tells me about his flight and accommodations. It sounds like the place they’re staying is pretty lavish.

  He and his siblings plan to see their favorite sights while they’re there. “I am eager to return to Madame Tussaud’s,” he tells me. “Alyssa is insisting on a return to the Florence Nightingale museum. Demetrius will be subjecting us all to another round of the London Dungeon. Sebastian insists he is providing us with culture by taking us to a show at Shakespeare’s Globe. Selene has requested a visit to Hampton Court. And Eziano desires to take more photos from the top of the Monument to the Great Fire of London.” I grin, but forgo pointing out that I’m certain his siblings are as loathe to return to Madame Tussaud’s as he is to return to their favorite attractions.

  I tell him about my day so far, which doesn’t take long, and he promises to call me again tomorrow.

  Shawn is laying on the sofa tossing his hat up and down when I return. I can tell he’s annoyed, bordering on pissed off.

  “Shawnie?” I ask, confused. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” he barks out. “Come on, let’s decorate the tree.” He sits up and plops the hat on his head. I put my hand on his shoulder to stop him.

  “Shawn,” I give him a pleading look. “Please, tell me.”

  He pulls away from me. “You don’t want to hear it. But I will find out what he’s hiding. You’ll see.”

  I don’t want to fight, not now. “Whatever you say, Shawn. Now, come on.” I grin at him, hoping to dispel his foul mood. “Santa needs the help of a loyal elf to decorate the tree. Then we’ll order dinner.”

  ***

  Each day, Damien calls me at the same time. He does far more of the talking than usual, as his days are more exciting than mine currently are. Shawn and I keep each other busy playing video games, relaxing and going out to see movies or have dinner, but that doesn’t hold a candle to London.

  During the week leading up to Christmas, I finish my shopping and deliver gifts to my friends as we all get together here and there. Shawn and I also bake some Christmas cookies.

  Finally, I wake up on Christmas morning to the smell of baking cinnamon rolls. Shawn’s mother always made fresh cinnamon rolls from scratch when he was growing up, and he was never able to drop the tradition. The only difference is that he bakes the kind that come in a little blue can. But no matter, they still taste great.

  I get out of bed and get dressed before heading downstairs. I grin, seeing Shawn icing the rolls. “Merry Christmas, Shawnie!”

  “Merry Christmas, Lys!” he calls over his shoulder. “Hands off, these are fresh out of the oven and still need to cool.”

  “Yes, Sir!” I answer in the deepest voice I can muster.

  Laughing, Shawn turns to face me. “You know we’ll need milk to go with these, so why don’t you pour two glasses.” He turns back to finish icing the rolls while I dutifully move to the refrigerator. It feels weird to be the one getting the drinks, since I’m usually the one to cook. “Are we eating first, or opening gifts as we eat?”

  I don’t even have to think about my answer. “We’re old enough to multitask, aren’t we?”

  His grin splits his face. “Oh, I was hoping you’d say that! Come on, these can cool on plates faster than they can on a hot cookie sheet.” He serves us each two, despite knowing we’ll both eat a third, and carries the plates into the living room. I follow behind, carrying napkins and the glasses of milk.

  Our tree towers over a modest array of gifts from our friends. Shawn, deciding to be a gentleman, picks up one gift for each of us and sits back down on the sofa.

  “I want to eat, so I suppose you can start.” With a shrug, I tear open the paper covering a . . . new book. And even better, it’s one I haven’t read. Thank you, Michelle. I ball up the trash and launch it at Shawn to let him know it’s his turn.

  The process isn’t long. It takes us about 30 minutes to open all of our gifts, taking turns so we can see what the other has received. When the last one has been opened, I try not to let my disappointment show that Damien didn’t send anything.

  Unfortunately, Shawn takes his opportunity to point out a flaw. “What happened to the gift Damien said he was getting you, Lys?”

  “I’m sure he decided to bring it home with him rather than mail it.” My voice doesn’t sound very convincing. “And who knows what he got me. Perhaps it’s not something that can be sent by mail. Or maybe it got del
ayed.”

  Shawn doesn’t look the least bit placated. But I am certain there’s a good explanation. I ignore Shawn’s disapproving look and start to collect my gifts. It’s after ten. I promised my parents I would join them by noon, and I still have to change into appropriate Christmas attire.

  “Shawn, I better get everything cleaned up and get ready so I can go see my parents. Do you want help with the dishes?”

  “Sure. But don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing. At the very least, if he wasn’t planning to mail your gift, he should have said something.”

  “Don’t worry about it, Shawnie. There’s sure to be a reason. Now, come on.”

  We get the dishes done quickly and both head to our rooms to change for dinner with our parents. Astonishingly, I’m ready first, and have to say goodbye to him through his bedroom door. “I don’t know if I’ll see you tonight, Shawn. Depends on when we both get home. Have a nice time, try not to fight with your dad, and say ‘Hi’ to both of your parents for me.”

  “Okay, Lys. Ditto!” I chuckle as I grab my purse and the gifts for my parents and head out.

  ***

  “Mom! Dad! I’m here!” I call out as I close their front door behind me.

  I walk through the house to the living room to put the presents I’ve brought under the Christmas tree. My mom pokes her head out of the kitchen to say hello.

  “Mom, do you want help with dinner?”

  “No, thank you, Lys. I’m done with what I’m going to do right now.” She walks into the living room and pulls me into a hug. “Merry Christmas, Mija.”

  “Merry Christmas, Mom.”

  My dad comes into the living room from the hallway. He must have been in his study. “Lys, you’re here! Merry Christmas.”

  I grin over my mom’s shoulder. “Merry Christmas, Dad. Your surrogate son asked me to say hello to both of you.”

  ***

  Christmas evening with my parents is pretty much the same it is every year. We open our presents and watch A Christmas Carol during dinner and dessert—according to my mom, Christmas isn’t Christmas without A Christmas Carol or The Nutcracker. At least this year we’re watching a newer version. My mom hasn’t seen this one before, and she wants to compare it to the others.

  I leave around 10:30, and when I get home, Shawn is either already in his room, or hasn’t made it back home yet, so I head right up to my room to put away my gifts and go to bed.

  On the downhill slope from Christmas, the next week passes quickly. When I speak with Damien the day after Christmas, I find out that he shipped his gift a little late, but was assured it would arrive by Christmas day. He apologizes that it didn’t make it, but I wave it off. It’s not his fault, after all.

  I talk Shawn into going to the formal masquerade ball that Queen’s Ball is hosting on New Year’s Eve. We have to go shopping to find something appropriate, and it takes me nearly three hours to get ready, but the look on Shawn’s face makes it worth it.

  He shakes his head with a grin. “Lys, I’m gonna have to beat guys away with a bat.”

  “You look pretty damn good yourself, Shawn.” We take several pictures so I can show Damien, before I put on a gold mask, carefully chosen from my collection. Shawn takes a couple more pictures before he puts on his own mask and we leave.

  ***

  The place is already pretty full by the time we arrive, and we barely make it to an out-of-the-way corner before I’m being asked to dance. With a quick glance at Shawn, I’m whisked away.

  I dance with a couple of guys before, unusually for him, Shawn cuts in and reclaims me. “What’s the matter, Shawnie? Why are you dancing with me? There are some beautiful girls here.”

  “Yeah, I know, but I also want to dance with my best friend. Besides, think of how much better I’ll look after dancing with one of, if not the, hottest girl here.” He waggles his eyebrows.

  I laugh and kiss him on the cheek. “You’re such a flatterer, Shawn. How are you not beating the girls off with a bat?”

  “Meh.” He tilts his head and sneers. “I have had a few offers, but I’m not all that interested. No one has really caught my eye.”

  “Maybe you need to dance with a few of them. You know, get a chance to talk to someone. It’s hard for anyone to catch your eye when everyone is wearing masks.”

  “Mmm. I suppose. It’s not a big deal though.” He shakes his head. “I haven’t really been feeling the urge to date lately.”

  He leads me through a spin and I giggle. “No one said you had to date the girl, Shawnie. And I doubt anyone would be expecting you to ask them out. You’ll probably be considered awesome just for being interested in more than getting your rocks off.”

  He laughs and pulls me into a hug. “Thanks, Lys.” After a couple songs, we make our way to the bar. I order water, planning to drink only after midnight.

  I spend the night flitting from partner to partner, greatly enjoying myself, and trying to suppress thoughts of how much better the night would be if Damien were here with me. I even come across quite a few friends and acquaintances from school. Right before midnight, Shawn finds me, and we both buy drinks to toast the New Year.

  “It’s a shame I don’t have anyone to kiss at midnight,” I mumble, mostly to myself.

  “You can kiss me,” says Shawn.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Just a friendly kiss, you know,” he pauses. “To ring in the New Year,” he proclaims, throwing his arm out grandly.

  I eye him carefully. He looks honest, and, more importantly, completely sober. “I think I’ll take you up on that offer, Shawnie, thanks.”

  Shawn throws his arm around my shoulders as we count down the final seconds to the ball drop. At zero, with confetti falling from the ceiling, we share a kiss that is friendly and chaste, despite being on the lips. It’s a kiss between friends, and nothing more, but it helps me feel less lonely.

  With the New Year officially started, the music changes to Top 40 hits, and everyone starts taking off their masks. I decide to leave mine on, since it’s pretty expensive and I don’t want anything to happen to it.

  Apparently, this serves as some kind of attractant to men, as I suddenly find myself with multiple offers to dance at the end of each song.

  I decide to call it a night when some idiot tries to slide his hand up under my dress. Security is kind enough to escort him outside, but with how much people have had to drink I figure it’s only a matter of time before it happens again.

  I find Shawn dancing with a beautiful girl near the edge of the dance floor, and wait until the song is over to walk up to them.

  “Shawnie, I’m really sorry to interrupt, but will you be ready to go soon, or should I take a cab? I’m okay with either option, really.”

  The girl steps away from him instantly with a look of horror on her face. “Oh my god! Are you his girlfriend? I’m sorry, I thought he was single.”

  “No! No.” I step back with my hands up, trying to keep the girl from running off. “We’re friends, just friends.” I point at Shawn. “He was my ride here.”

  “Oh,” says the girl, leaning into Shawn again. “In that case, I’d like to keep him a bit longer, if you don’t mind.”

  “All right. Have fun you two. See you later, Shawn.”

  I collect my jacket from the coat check and take one of the taxis waiting outside the club. I’m home in fifteen minutes, and asleep in bed in less than half an hour.

  ***

  On the morning of the third, I wake up super excited. Damien is coming home today! He won’t be home until late afternoon, but I still hope to see him after I have dinner with my parents, even if it’s just for a short while. I get dressed and head downstairs, hoping Shawn will be able to keep me company until it’s time for me to leave.

  “Hi Shawnie! What’s up for today?”

  He slumps down in a seat across from me with his breakfast. “My mom says I’ve got to go golfing with my dad. Again.” He throws his hands up,
exasperated. “I just went last month! Usually, I get a few months’ reprieve. I hate golfing. I can’t even use the weather as an excuse. Can you believe it’s going to be sixty degrees today?”

  “Sorry, Shawnie. Sometimes you have to do things you don’t want to, especially when parents are involved. And it’s only what, three hours, then you’re free for a month or two, right?”

  “More like five,” he grumbles.

  “I can’t really help you with this one.” I offer him a sympathetic smile. “Bear up best you can. I’m having dinner with my parents tonight, so I may or may not see you.”

  “Okay, Lys.”

  Once he’s left, I settle down on the sofa to watch TV until it’s time to for me to leave. I shouldn’t have bothered, though, since scarcely a minute passes before the doorbell rings.

  Sighing, I stand. I reach the front door just as the bell rings again. I glance out the peephole and see a UPS guy standing there. Shrugging, I open the door and poke my head out.

  “Hi, can I help you?” He looks up from that electronic doohickey they all carry and smiles wide.

  “Yes,” he says as he looks down at a parcel at his feet. “Elysabeth Vance?”

  “Yeah, that’s me,” I say, guardedly.

  “I have a package for you.”

  I shake my head. “I didn’t order anything, and I don’t accept unexpected deliveries.” His smile falters.

  “Um, will you sign for this?” He holds the little doohickey out to me.

  “I told you I didn’t order anything. Are you sure you have the right address?” He reaches down and picks up the parcel then holds it out to me.

  “Is this your name and address?” I read the label. Elysabeth Vance. There’s no return address. I try to make out the postmark, but the ink is too faint. I suppose it must be for me as my name is actually spelled correctly.

  Then it clicks. This must be Damien’s gift! Eager now, to open it, I hurriedly answer, “Yes, that’s me.”

  “Then will you please sign for it?” He shoves the little device at me. I sign and hand it back to him. He hands me the box and retreats to his van.