Me, My Elf & I

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Me, My Elf & I Page 26

by Heather Swain


  When I get to class, I see Timber in the front row. There are two open seats beside him. He’s got his head down on the desk, probably trying to block out the noise of everyone discussing what just happened outside. I stop in front of him and tap his shoulder. “Mind if I sit beside you?” I ask, pointing to the chair on his left.

  He looks up, sending a warm tingly ripple across my skin. “Sure,” he says.

  As I sit down, Chelsea walks into the room. She pauses in the doorway and scans the seats. Everyone gets quiet. The only open place is right beside me. I glance at Timber, but he’s looking away. I wonder if he still thinks Chelsea is the best of Bella’s friends or that I’m the nicest girl he’s ever met. Then I remember what my mom and dad told me when they grounded me. I look up at Chelsea and despite my urge to scowl at her, I try to think what a good elf would do. A good elf would not perpetuate all the meanness of this morning, so instead of being nasty, I look at Chelsea and I say, “How was the ELPH shoot?” She blinks at me a few times, probably trying to figure out if I’m being sarcastic, so I add, “Did it go okay?”

  She walks to the seat beside me and says, “It was great!” Then she mutters, “Sorry you were sick.”

  “That’s okay,” I say. “There’ll be other auditions.” And that’s all the niceness I can muster for Chelsea today. I turn my attention to Timber. “You okay?” I ask.

  He sits up. “Sure,” he says. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  I shrug, deciding to let this morning in the courtyard fade away. “I’m so glad to be back at school,” I tell him. “I was losing my mind at home. Especially since I couldn’t talk to you.”

  “You must’ve been really sick,” he says.

  “Yes, but then I was grounded.”

  “You?” he asks. “I can’t imagine you ever do anything wrong.”

  “Um, well,” I laugh nervously. “I’d explain, but N.W.T.E.” Timber snickers when I use the abbreviation and I’m beginning to think we’ll be okay.

  “How long are you grounded?” he asks.

  “Until Friday,” I say. “No phone, no computer, no nothing.”

  “Can you go to Ari’s gig on Saturday night?” he asks.

  “Are you going?” I say. He nods. “Then hopefully I can, too.”

  “Cool. You want to go together?” he asks. “Unless you’re going with that other guy, what’s his name? The manga dude?”

  “Kenji?” I ask as I lean across my desk and stare straight into Timber’s blue eyes. “No, Timber,” I say. “I’d really like to go with you.”

  chapter 17

  IT’S SATURDAY AND Mom and I are in the kitchen, making snacks. Timber, Mercedes, and Ari are all coming over so we can watch an interview my dad did for a show called Inside Lives on MTV to dispel rumors that he’s in a cult. This is big stuff, because it’s the first time we get to watch the television my dad finally convinced my mom we should buy so we can seem more normal.

  “Dad called,” Mom tells me as she chops up fresh veggies. “He says he’s bringing back a surprise.”

  He’s on the way back from Michigan, where he took the MTV camera crew. “I bet he killed a deer and tied it to the top of the van,” I say as I arrange homemade crackers around a mound of goat cheese.

  “I could go for some good venison sausage this winter,” she says.

  “Mmmmm,” Bramble pipes up from under the kitchen table, where he’s feeding an abandoned baby chipmunk with an eyedropper. “I love sausage. And candy.”

  “Candy!” yells Persimmon, who is busy removing every pot and pan she can reach from the cupboards.

  “What time are your friends coming?” Mom asks.

  “Around six thirty. The interview isn’t on until seven and Ari’s gig doesn’t start until nine.” I glance at the clock. “Wow, it’s already six. I should go get ready.”

  “I can finish up in here,” Mom says.

  I stick the cheese and crackers in the fridge, then head upstairs to change into a clean tunic and try out the makeup that Lucy from the VH1 studio gave me, just in case it turns out that I’m on a date with Timber. Mercedes has promised to take me shopping for new clothes next weekend. It’s not that I don’t like my tunics anymore. In fact, I love them. But since Chelsea, Rienna, and Darby are now walking around looking like some weird urban version of an elf, sometimes I want another choice. One nice thing about the erdler world is that you can change. One day you might be a fairy and the next day you might be an elf. But I think the trick to changing your look is always knowing who you are on the inside, and that’s not so easy.

  As I’m getting dressed, I hear the front door open. “Anybody home?” my dad yells. “I have a surprise!”

  I slip on a couple of amulets and run down the stairs to find out what it is, but when I get halfway down, I stop. Standing in the doorway behind my dad is Grandma Fawna.

  Mom comes through the dining room, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel. When she sees Grandma, she bursts into tears. “Oh, Drake!” she says as she runs to Fawna and wraps her arms around her. Poppy, Bramble, and Persimmon run into the room. They see Grandma and jump up and down, yelling and laughing and hanging on her legs.

  “Is it really you?” my mom asks while she hugs Grandma. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

  “I tried to talk her out of it,” says Dad.

  “I had to see this place for myself,” Grandma says. “And not just from a bird’s-eye view.” She winks at me.

  “But the others?” I ask. “Are they mad?”

  Grandma shrugs. “I’m here because I want to be. The others will have to accept that for now.”

  Dad looks at me. “There’s someone here for you, too.” I assume he means Timber, Mercedes, and Ari, but then Briar comes in.

  “Oh my God!” I scream, just like an erdler. I run and grab her. We cling to each other, hopping up and down, screaming with excitement. “I can’t believe they let you come! Is your mom freaking out? How long can you stay?” I ask her. She looks at my dad.

  “We’re going to see how this works for a while,” he says.

  “I had to beg,” Briar says. “But it was totally worth it!”

  My mom looks around and asks, “Where’s Willow?”

  Dad puts his hand on her shoulder as he shakes his head. “She didn’t come, but I do have some good news.”

  “She stayed behind?” Mom dabs her eyes with the kitchen towel.

  “Do you want to tell her, Fawna?” Dad says.

  “Ash asked Willow to marry him,” Grandma tells us.

  Mom clutches her hands against her chest. “Oh my baby!” she moans, but she’s smiling.

  Briar squeezes my hand. “He made a picnic and took her up to Barnaby Bluff. He had all these flowers for her and a garland of late roses for her hair. He sang her a song that he wrote about her. Then he proposed.”

  “How sweet!” Mom says. “Sounds like someone I know.” She leans against my dad and he kisses her on the forehead.

  “I can’t believe my sister is getting married,” I say.

  “Do we get to go to the wedding?” Poppy asks.

  “Of course!” Mom and Dad say together.

  “They’re planning it for the spring,” Grandma tells us. “She’s staying with Flora until then.”

  “It’s like we swapped,” Briar says with a laugh.

  Just then, Timber, Mercedes, and Ari come walking up to our front door, which stands wide open. As usual, my heart races when I see Timber grinning at me. I introduce Briar and Grandma to my friends. Of course, being elves, they immediately hug everyone and wink at me when they get to Timber, which makes my cheeks go red.

  At seven o’clock we gather around the new TV in the living room. Mercedes and Briar have hit it off, not that that should surprise me. They’re both so funny and full of energy. I’m going to have a hard time keeping up with them! From my place on the floor, I lean back and look up at Timber, who sits behind me on the couch. As usual, every time I see him, my stomach gets al
l fluttery. He’s deep in conversation with Grove about the best road food and whether someone named McDonald has better hamburgers than a girl called Wendy. Ari is asking my dad’s advice on what to play if he gets an encore tonight. I look over my other shoulder at Grandma Fawna. She sits quietly and happily, taking it all in.

  I reach up and put my hand on her leg. “I’m so happy you’re here,” I say.

  She grins. “Me, too. But I have to say I prefer flying here to riding in a van.” We both crack up.

  “What?” Mom asks.

  “Oh, nothing,” Grandma tells her and squeezes my hand.

  “Hey look,” Dad tells us, pointing to the TV. “Here it comes!”

  We all quiet down as he turns up the volume.

  “Drake Addler has been mesmerizing fans with his unique blend of rock and roll and traditional folk music for several years now,” a woman’s voice proclaims over footage of Dad and Grove and the rest of the band playing at some outdoor festival.

  “Daddy!” Persimmon yells and runs to point at the screen.

  “Get out of the way,” we all yell at her, laughing.

  “But is there something behind the star’s power over his fans?” We all oooh and aaah, then giggle as the camera closes in on a photo of my dad looking slightly demonic.

  “Drake grew up in the upper peninsula of Michigan, outside this little town,” the woman informs us and we see Dad walking down Main Street in Ironweed.

  “God,” Mercedes says. “I knew you were from the middle of nowhere, but that place is so small it doesn’t even qualify as nowhere.”

  “I think it looks cool,” Ari says. Briar, Grove, and I groan.

  “I spent a lot of time hunting and fishing in the woods around here,” Dad says on-screen. “And when I wasn’t doing that, I was playing my guitar and writing songs, of course.”

  “All that time to play paid off with his new hit song, ‘Aurora Dawn.’” A close-up of my dad singing the song fills the screen.

  “It’s about your mom, isn’t it?” Mercedes leans over and whispers to me. I nod and smile. “That’s so ridiculously sweet,” she says.

  “I know it almost makes you want to barf, doesn’t it?” Briar asks. Mercedes pretends to gag and they both laugh.

  In the next shot, my dad sits in a television studio across from a pretty woman with long legs. “There are rumors that you’re in a cult,” she says.

  “The leader, in fact,” my dad says sarcastically.

  “Are you denying it?” she asks.

  “I’m just an ordinary guy,” Dad says. “Like most fathers, I can’t even get my kids to do what I say, let alone an entire cult.”

  The camera cuts to a shot of us sitting around the table. We’re all dressed in jeans and T-shirts and pretending to like roasted chicken. Everyone starts yelling and laughing so hard we can’t hear the dialogue. Poppy, Bramble, and Persimmon crowd the screen pointing to themselves.

  Mercedes smacks my leg and howls, “What are you wearing?”

  “Where are your tunics?” Briar shouts in my ear on the other side.

  “What are you eating?” Fawna asks my mother.

  There are also shots of the park, the Brooklyn Bridge, Dad reading with Poppy, Bramble, and Persimmon on his lap, then a totally embarrassing one of me studying at the kitchen table.

  Timber leans over and says into my ear, “You look good on-screen.” I turn and smirk at him. “Really. You would have made the best ELPH elf.”

  “Thanks,” I mumble, embarrassed, but happy.

  “Check it out! Check it out!” Grove shouts over all of us. We turn back to the screen.

  The long-legged woman, now in hiking gear, stands on top of Barnaby Bluff. My heart gives a little skip as I think of Ash proposing to Willow up there. “We’ve combed these woods,” she says, motioning to the forest below her. “Asked people who claim to be experts on Drake and who’ve been searching for his cult for weeks and this is what we’ve found.”

  The last shot is of my dad sitting on the frog’s mouth stump behind Grandma Fawna’s house. Only there’s no house there. No garden. No smokehouse. No other houses off in the distance. Nor any of my uncles and aunts and cousins moving silently and happily through the woods. I squeeze Grandma Fawna’s hand. Her power is back and stronger than ever. The invisibility spell she cast over Alverland lasted long enough to convince the erdlers that our homeland is nothing more than a myth. My dad looks at the camera and shrugs. “Like I said, I’m just an ordinary guy.” And then it’s over.

  “I always knew it,” Ari says with a nod.

  Everyone laughs and talks about the show for several minutes while my mom and I bring out the snacks we made. Then I stand back and look around the living room. For the first time in Brooklyn, I feel at home. I’m surrounded by people who like me and love me and accept me for who I am (even if not everyone knows the entire truth). I realize then that I’m happy. Truly happy.

  While we all fill our plates with food, I notice that Timber has pulled his iPhone out of his pocket. He frowns at it as he touches the screen, then he seems to be reading something that makes him unhappy. I stand next to him. “What?” I ask.

  He looks at me. “Oh nothing,” he says, trying to shove the iPhone back in his pocket.

  “Something upset you,” I say.

  “It’s nothing. Really. Nothing important.”

  I stare at him until he sighs and says, “Bella is back from rehab.”

  “And she e-mailed you?” I ask.

  “Sort of,” he says. “She e-mailed a lot of people.”

  By this time Mercedes and Briar have figured out that something is up. They join us.

  “What’s going on?” Mercedes asks.

  “Bella’s back,” I say. “And she sent out an e-mail.”

  “This I’ve got to see!” Mercedes holds out her hand for Timber’s iPhone but he won’t give it up.

  Ari walks over. “You better do what she says,” he tells Timber.

  “All right, I surrender.” Timber laughs as he relinquishes the iPhone. “I know when I’m outnumbered.”

  Mercedes, Ari, Briar, and I crowd around the small screen to read the message:

  I’m back from the spa and better than ever. Don’t think it’s that ez to get rid of Bella. #1 on my yatch list is Chelsea Wheeler, you back-stabbing, two-faced slut from hell. Your blog might be gone, but I have not forgotten.

  “Chelsea took BellaHater down?” I ask.

  “She didn’t cop to it, but the whole site vanished,” says Ari. “Not a trace left.”

  “You still think it was her?” I ask.

  “It was,” Timber tells us. “She told me the truth, but I don’t think she feels bad about it.”

  “Look,” says Mercedes, pointing to the iPhone. “There’s more from Bella.”

  We all read:

  And the next yatch on my list is Zephyr Addler. So watch yer backs girlies, bc when you least expect it, I’ll be there.

  “Is she threatening you?” Briar asks, her eyes wide.

  “I’ll whoop her butt into next Tuesday if she even comes close to you,” Mercedes says.

  Timber shakes his head and plucks the iPhone from my hand. “You don’t have to worry. She’s all talk.”

  “Besides . . . ,” says Ari as he slings his arms around Mercedes’s and Briar’s shoulders. “We’ve got your back.”

  “Thanks, guys,” I say, wrapping my arms around the three of them. Ari, Mercedes, and Briar let go of me, then wander back over to the food, but Timber hangs back.

  “You okay?” he asks.

  I look up at him. “I guess so.”

  “You really don’t have to worry about her,” he says seriously.

  “That’s not what I’m worried about. In fact, I’m not actually worried about anything. I’m more confused about something,” I admit.

  “What is it?” he asks.

  I glance over my shoulder at my Grandma Fawna. She sits in a rocking chair in the corner of the ro
om, happily watching everyone. I think back to my conversation with her in the woods when she told me that I have to do things for the right reasons and the only person who can know those reasons is myself. Then I look over at my parents. I think about their words, encouraging me to be myself. I take Timber’s arm and lead him around the corner, into the front hall.

  “When I first got here, I spent all my time trying to figure out how to be like everybody else so that I’d fit in,” I tell him. “But now after everything that’s happened, I realize that I don’t want to be like other people and I don’t have to change a lot about myself to find good friends.”

  “Yeah,” says Timber. “I think you’re right.”

  “But the thing is, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with you.”

  He shifts uncomfortably.

  “So I’m just going to be me.”

  “Okay,” he says.

  “Here goes.” I reach out and take his hand in mine. “You make me laugh and you’re interesting and I enjoy talking to you and I get excited when I see you and I think that you’re a good, decent, kind person. So maybe it’s dumb, dorky, and socially awkward of me to say this and maybe I’ll sound like a third grader instead of a normal, average girl but I want you to know that I like you.”

  At first, Timber tosses his head back and laughs. “You crack me up!” he says, but he quickly tugs on my hand and pulls me close to him. “And you’re far from normal or average.” Then he looks down into my face. “And for that reason, I like you, too,” he tells me. When he tilts his head to the right this time I’m ready. I tilt my head the other way, close my eyes, and we finally, truly, fully kiss.

  Twenty minutes later, we’re ready to leave for Ari’s gig. Ari has invited Grove to go with us and, of course, we all want Briar to come, too. As we’re heading for the door, my mom pulls me aside. Oh no, I think, she saw Timber kiss me and she’s going to freak out. But instead, she adjusts my amulets and says, “Be careful, okay?”

 

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