‘Part of this tattoo artist phase he’s going through,’ said Avery, cutting in on our conversation. ‘And, not that standing here talking about Sebastian’s lack of normal fashion sense isn’t riveting and all…but I’m starving. Are we going or not?’
‘Going where?’ I asked, casually jerking Avery’s bag from his shoulders as payback for his comment, and smiling as his books dumped on the ground.
‘Not cool!’ He knelt to pick them up.
‘To the diner across the street,’ Katie replied, ignoring our antics. ‘You coming with us?’
‘I can’t,’ I replied. ‘I told Josephine I’d come to the Fairgrounds to work on our scenes for the play.’ I managed to keep my face carefully arranged as I spoke, but my pulse quickened the moment I said her name out loud.
Katie’s brows shot up. ‘Oh really?’
‘It’s no big deal.’ I hugged her quickly. ‘Gotta go.’ I sprinted across the parking lot, ignoring Katie’s demands for details. ‘See you guys tomorrow,’ I shouted over my shoulder. I climbed into my van and pulled out before I had the good sense to change my mind.
I steered onto Fairground Drive, tapping my fingers against the steering wheel, barely able to sit still. My nerves were strung tighter than the telephone wires above the road. I knew Hugo was probably waiting for me at home. After all, he’d promised we’d talk. But his secrets seemed way less exciting, compared with what lay before me.
Just ahead, the Sutallee River wound through the rich autumn forest, splicing the landscape like a watery whip. The Sutallee Bridge stretched across it, looking like something out of an old Norman Rockwell painting. I crossed the bridge and continued down the road until I reached the gated entry of the Circe de Romany. Then I parked the van and got out.
The red and gold tent loomed against the overcast sky. More pavilions had been assembled, and bright pennants fluttered in the breeze. Carnival rides of every size and shape dominated the Fairgrounds. Flashy publicity posters lined the fence, announcing the Circe’s opening, just weeks away. Behind the tent, motionless, was the Ferris wheel. I shuddered and looked away.
The gate was closed and locked. I peered through the iron bars, looking for signs of life. My stomach sank. What if she’d forgotten about our practice? How important could an amateur high school play be to a member of a circus troupe?
The minutes crept by, and I grew restless. I gauged the height of the fence, wondering if I could scale it. As I pondered the possibility, my head went painfully cold, like a brain freeze from too much ice cream too fast. When I looked up, I realized why. Quentin Marks was strolling towards the gate. He studied me through the fence, and there was something in his expression I didn’t care for.
As if he enjoyed seeing me behind bars.
11. Drought and Rain
‘Hey,’ I said with a nod, determined to be polite. ‘Is Josephine here?’
Quentin’s smile was carefully placed. ‘Of course.’
‘We’re supposed to rehearse,’ I continued, getting the feeling he was taunting me. ‘Could you let me in?’
He produced a set of keys from his pocket. The gate creaked loudly on its hinges. Once I was inside, he closed the gate with a bang.
‘Follow me.’
It felt as though I was intruding on his territory, and he was going to turn on me any minute, like it was some big joke, and kick me out. But he walked with an easy stride, seemingly oblivious of my presence. The back of the property was lined with brightly painted trailers and buses, all arranged in a circular pattern. Quentin stopped in front of the largest vehicle and knocked on the door. He stepped inside and motioned me to follow.
I entered a small living room, crammed with furniture: a dark blue couch, a patterned chaise, and several other mismatched pieces. The decor reflected the tastes of a family who’d traveled extensively. Artwork hung from every available space on the walls, and ornate curtains framed the narrow windows.
Quentin smiled again, more serpentine than friendly. ‘Have a good rehearsal.’
Before I could reply, Quentin was out the door. The ice thawed in my stomach, but my lip curled away from my teeth, and I got a weird urge to growl at his retreating form. I really didn’t like that guy.
‘Hey, man.’
The voice came from the kitchenette. A boy my age lumbered out, waving at me with a fistful of sandwich. I knew him from the circus party. It was Josephine’s twin brother, Francis. He leaned against the wall.
‘Hey,’ I replied. ‘Is Josephine here?’
Francis grinned around a mouthful of food then raised his voice. ‘Jo, your acting buddy’s here!’
Josephine appeared from a short hallway at the other end of the room. ‘Thanks for coming Sebastian,’ she said, nudging her brother out of the way. ‘Would you like something to eat or drink?’ She opened the refrigerator.
‘Ah, sure.’ I tugged at my sleeve, feeling out of place as I stood in the middle of the Romanys’ cramped living quarters. ‘That would be great.’
Francis flopped on the couch, sprawling his thick legs along the cushions and flipping the buttons on the remote control. I crossed to the chaise and perched on the edge, rubbing absently at my tattoo as I waited for Josephine to reappear.
‘So, how’s the play going?’ Francis asked. ‘Jo says you guys are crunched for time.’
There was something easygoing about Francis – a definite contrast to Quentin – who was so aloof and reserved.
‘We are,’ I replied. ‘I mean, we’ve gotten a lot done, but there are still scenes we’ve barely covered.’
‘Yeah, like this scene you’re doing with her, right? The one where she falls in love with you.’
I became suddenly interested in the program on the television. ‘Yeah, like that one.’
…Where she falls in love with you.
As with my character in the play, I didn’t have a chance with someone like her – not that I was trying – I reminded myself. She was taken and obviously happy. And even if she wasn’t, Josephine and I were barely even friends. No matter what kind of straitjacket-worthy emotions I felt around Josephine, this was just a rehearsal, nothing more.
‘Here you go, Sebastian.’ Josephine handed me a can of soda and a plate of Oreos.
‘Thanks.’
She sat on the end of the couch. She smelled so good I had to resist a sudden, powerful desire to sniff the air. Normal. Just act normal. The plate of cookies rattled in my hand. I set them aside and concentrated on opening the soda instead. Josephine slapped Francis on the leg.
‘Do you mind?’ she said in a chastising voice. ‘We need to rehearse.’
He grunted and rolled off the couch, tossing the remote on the cushions. As he passed by he patted my shoulder.
‘Good luck, man,’ he chuckled. ‘Jo’s a diva.’
He ducked as a cream-colored pillow soared through the air, aimed at his head. Then Josephine and I were alone in the room. I cleared my throat, fumbling at my jacket zipper. The temperature had kicked up several degrees since I’d entered the trailer, which was insane. I liked Josephine. A whole lot. Probably more than was healthy, especially considering her annoying, intimidating boyfriend. But even that didn’t explain what kept happening to me when I was around her.
Every time I was around her.
‘So, are you ready to begin?’ I asked, yanking myself from my thoughts. ‘I know time is fleeting.’ I cringed on the inside, knowing if Avery had been around, he would’ve accused me of another of my ‘old books’ talk. ‘I mean, you’ve got a rehearsal coming up, right?’
But Josephine only smiled. ‘There’s time,’ she replied, picking up my plate and holding it out to me. ‘You need to eat first.’
‘You don’t have to tell me twice,’ I said, snagging an Oreo. ‘I never turn down food.’ While I ate, grateful for a distraction from my fever, I fought the urge to scratch at my tattoo, which felt as if it was crawling along the top of my skin.
Josephine took a pillow into her
lap and played with the fringe.
‘Thanks for doing this, Sebastian,’ she said. ‘I know it’s out of your way and all.’
‘It’s no trouble. I didn’t have anything major at the shop today.’
‘Your brother’s shop?’
I glanced up, surprised. ‘Yeah.’
‘Quentin told me that’s where you live.’ Her expression grew thoughtful. ‘I didn’t know Hugo Corsi had a brother. But we don’t spend a lot of time with other clans, and we pretty much keep to ourselves when we’re in Sixes.’
Of course, she’d know about Hugo’s Gypsy clan. She was part of her own. But it still felt bizarre to be talking about it as if it was just completely normal stuff. Then suddenly I realized that, to her, it probably was.
‘Well, that’s because he’s not really my brother,’ I confessed. ‘His parents got me out of foster care almost three years ago. When they went to Europe on business, Hugo took me in so I could finish school here in Sixes.’
Josephine gasped then clamped her mouth shut like she’d just revealed a top secret battle plan. She gripped the pillow so tightly that I could see her fingers turn white. ‘I just thought…I mean, because you’re with the Corsis, I thought you were one of us.’
‘Oh, I am,’ I said rapidly, to alleviate her distress. ‘I mean, not technically. But I know about your family. And Hugo’s.’
‘But you’re not a Gypsy.’ Josephine paled underneath her tanned skin as if my revelation had drained the life out of her. ‘We don’t reveal ourselves to gadje. That’s like, rule number one with my people. It’s serious business. If you do, you could be shunned, turned out of the clan.’
I slid my thumb underneath my sleeve, feeling the heat from the tattoo I’d kept carefully hidden since the night of the party. It seemed now that my tattoo had less to do with good luck or apprenticeship, and more to do with assurances; as though making me an honorary Corsi would guarantee I’d keep the Gypsy thing a secret.
‘It’s okay, Josephine. Hugo let me in, or whatever you want to call it. He said you guys like to stay under the radar, so it’s definitely not something I’d go spreading around. I haven’t even said anything to Katie, and that’s saying a lot. She can pretty much pry anything out of me.’
Josephine relaxed at my comment, and her slight smile returned. ‘Trust me, I know. That girl’s got people skills, and she’s not afraid to use them.’ The smile faded. ‘I’ve always liked those kinds of people, you know? The ones that are like open books, all the time. I guess maybe because I’m kind of the opposite. Keeping our identity hidden is hard sometimes, but it’s what we have to do. It’s a matter of survival.’
‘Wow,’ I said, leaning into the plush cushions and trying to absorb what she said. Suddenly, Hugo didn’t seem so far-fetched anymore. ‘That’s crazy. I didn’t think people still lived like that, at least, in this country. No offense, but it all feels like folk tales and history to me.’
‘Traditions and customs are what keep our heritage alive, Sebastian.’ Her shoulders drew back and her chin lifted. I felt as if I’d wandered into forbidden territory. Josephine lowered her brows, and it seemed as though she were trying to determine if my Gypsy ignorance was for real. ‘Roma are strict and set in our ways, even the Outcasts. Our laws determine how we live, where our place is in the clan, what our future will be…’
A crease formed between her eyes as she drifted off. Her voice had changed – I couldn’t place it, exactly, and she sounded kind of like Hugo – but her tone was different to his, and the words felt rehearsed somehow, almost as if she was trying to convince herself.
‘Huh,’ I said. ‘And here I was thinking Hugo was putting on some kind of show with me; all drama and mystery and secrets.’ I pulled on the cuff of my sleeve and shook my head. ‘Like it was all some lead-up to my working as an apprentice in the shop. But I guess at least some of what he’s been telling me is true.’
Josephine’s forehead softened, and she studied me with a curious expression. She leaned forward, tilting her head, attempting to get a better look at my face underneath my hood. ‘I’m getting the feeling you haven’t always known about your brother’s heritage.’
I frowned. ‘Actually, not until a few days ago. Hugo acted like it was no big deal, said it just never came up. But, it feels strange that he’s never shared this with me before now. I don’t know, maybe it has to do with the Circe coming to town.’
‘Well, I’m sure he had his reasons, Sebastian. I don’t know your brother or the Corsis really well, but I do know what it’s like growing up in a Roma family. We keep a lot of secrets, even from each other.’
‘Doesn’t that bother you?’
She paused. Her gaze flicked to the door of the trailer, and she studied the curtained window. ‘All the time,’ she said, her voice noticeably quieter. Hushed. ‘But you find ways of dealing with it.’
She looked at me again; the same intently solemn expression as the day she’d invited me to her party. An unexpected flash of knowledge passed between us, and in one slow blink of her eyes, I realized there was more to Josephine than she allowed anyone at school to see, more than maybe even the people closest to her knew. And suddenly, I wanted to know everything about her.
More than anything in the world.
Josephine brushed her hair away from her cheek and laughed, breaking the moment, but a trace of it remained, lingering in the air with a mysterious life of its own. Her silence wasn’t a closed door to whatever I’d just witnessed, but it wasn’t an invitation, either. Not yet. I had the sense to recognize that, at least.
‘Well,’ I said, changing gears before I said anything I’d regret later. ‘Hugo promised we’d talk tonight about all this clan stuff, so maybe I won’t sound like so much of a Gypsy newbie the next time we talk.’
To my relief, Josephine nodded. ‘You know, it’s nice talking to someone outside the Circe without having to worry if I’m going to slip up and say something to the gadje. My father doesn’t like me attending public school, but he gave in, after Francis and I begged him for a month.’ Josephine set her pillow aside and straightened the books on the coffee table. ‘I like school, but I’m not exactly comfortable there, either.’
‘Yeah, I know the feeling.’
Her fingers paused over the cover of a photography book. ‘Something we have in common, then.’
This time, I felt as though Josephine was the one peering into the cracked door of my life. She hovered there a few breaths, and then continued. ‘So, anyway, it’s nice to know that you’re a diddikoi.’
‘Is that a compliment or a curse?’
Josephine flashed a smile that reminded me of sun on water. ‘Roma use the term for different things, but for Outcasts, the word means someone who is a friend to the Gypsies. Believe me, it’s a huge compliment.’
‘Well, that’s a relief,’ I said, mirroring her grin. ‘So, how many more Gypsies do you know? Besides my brother’s clan?’
‘The Circe’s made up of many families, but outside of us, there are several Outcast clans spread all over the Southeast. Since we travel, we pass through other Havens a lot.’
‘So it really is like Hugo said. There’s more of you than people think.’
‘Uh huh,’ she said with a knowing spark in her eyes. ‘Some of us hide under the obvious covers, like a traveling circus. Others choose more subtle ways to blend in.’
‘Yeah, I’m sort of figuring that out,’ I said, watching as Josephine played with the ribbon at her neck. I couldn’t see her pendant, but I knew it was hidden beneath her shirt. I wiped a trickle of sweat from my temple, feeling uncomfortably warm. ‘But then, Hugo told me about the dandelion symbol the Outcast clans use, and then you showed me your necklace on the Ferris wheel…’
My words died off as our eyes met.
‘Yes,’ she said softly.
I continued with caution. ‘But I don’t really remember the rest.’
Josephine clasped her hands in her lap. ‘I dropped my pend
ant, just as we were getting out of the car. You tried to catch it, and then you hit your head on the safety rail.’
‘And…that was it?’
She broke our gaze and stared at the television. ‘Karl was looking you over, so I ran to get Quentin, and then Katie came…and I tried to check on you, but there were all the party guests, and then, by the time I came back, Quentin was driving you home.’ She sighed heavily. ‘I wanted to say something to you the next day but, I don’t know, it was like you were avoiding me.’
‘Maybe a little,’ I confessed. I couldn’t tell her my real reasons, not when I’d just discovered she didn’t actually think I was a mental case. ‘I felt pretty idiotic after the whole thing. I’m apparently sadly uncoordinated. Everything from that night is still kind of fuzzy. Thanks for clearing it up.’
Josephine seemed visibly relieved. I guess I should’ve been, too. At least I knew now that I’d imagined the details of the accident. I probably had a concussion. Maybe going to the doctor wasn’t such a bad idea, after all.
She reached for the soda can, which was dangling precariously from my hand. ‘Are you finished?’ she asked politely.
Josephine was looking at me with those eyes of hers, and I could hardly think anymore. The Ferris wheel was suddenly the farthest thing from my mind. ‘Ah, sure.’
She tapped her chin with one finger. ‘Then I guess we can start where Titania wakes up and sees Bottom for the first time.’
The reality of what I was about to do hit me like a tsunami in the face. Neither the Ferris wheel nor and Hugo and his Gypsy roots concerned me anymore. Performing with Josephine was far more nerve-wracking. ‘I’m ready.’
‘Why don’t you take your hood off, Sebastian?’
As much as I didn’t want to comply, it was as if I couldn’t refuse. Some unseen force had switched on the autopilot again. My hand moved, and the next thing I knew, I’d slipped my hood from my head. I glanced up anxiously. Josephine’s eyes widened. She took in my gray hair – the dye job wasn’t much of a secret anymore – but I could tell my sallow complexion bothered her.
Grey (The Romany Outcasts Series, Book 1) Page 11
