Starlight

by Chelsea M. Campbell

  Saiph licks his lips and opens his mouth to answer, but he doesn’t get a chance because that’s when Nichole comes in. That’s right. Nichole Hamilton, my worst enemy, seeing me at the popular kids’ store, wearing the prettiest dress in the world as if I thought I could get away with it. She laughs. She has to cover her mouth, she’s laughing so hard. “Speck? Is that you?”

  It’s hard to keep good posture when someone’s cackling at you. It’s hard not to feel embarrassed and worthless and like maybe you should have never been born, because life would have been a lot easier that way.

  Saiph glares at Nichole, but she’s not looking at him. She comes up to me and shakes her head. “I didn’t think anyone your age still played dress-up. It’ll look so cute with your Flame Burger hat, don’t you think?”

  Speaking of my hat, I could really use a butt-biting dragon right now, and I don’t think I have to tell you who I would sic it on.

  She scrunches up her nose in disgust. “What would you need a dress for, anyway?”

  “She’s going to the winter dance.” Saiph takes a step forward and folds his arms, looking down his nose at Nichole.

  Nichole jumps. I don’t think she recognized Saiph without his geek garb. She puts her hands on her hips and scowls at me. “With who?” I never noticed just how whiny and grating her voice is.

  It doesn’t matter how childish and petty she sounds—my lower lip’s trembling and I can’t look her in the eyes. All I can think about is how this dress hangs all wrong on me. My shoulders slump, and the cape slips, and the velvet doesn’t glitter as much anymore. Maybe because Nichole’s blocking my light.

  I manage to lift my head enough to tell her, “None of your business,” but that’s about all I can do. I’m sure she sees right through me. She knows there’s no guy. She doesn’t even consider Saiph as a possible partner for me, or else she wouldn’t have asked who I was going with. It’s just that obvious that he, like the dress, is way too good for plain old Adrienne.

  “You’re not seriously thinking of wearing that to the dance, are you?” One side of Nichole’s face twitches as she tries not to laugh. If I ever need lessons on how to be a condescending bitch, I’ll know who to go to. “Don’t try it on for too long—they can’t sell it if it has sweat stains.”

  She flips her hair and stalks off, cackling to herself.

  On the bright side, at least she was alone. It could have been worse. She could have had her whole pack of cronies with her. In a way, she did me a favor. I could have convinced myself this really was the dress. I could have shown up at the dance in it, and then it wouldn’t have been just Nichole laughing, but the entire school. Again.

  I storm back into the dressing room, intent on taking off the dress as fast as I can. I feel like I’m uglying it up just touching it. All the sparkles will go dim and the cape will fall off if I keep it on much longer.

  “Adrienne, don’t listen to her,” Saiph says from outside the dressing room.

  I struggle with the dress, but I can’t get the zipper undone. I can’t believe how stupid I was. This is the kind of dress that gets noticed, and we all know what happens when Adrienne Speck gets noticed. Things go very, very wrong. I feel a familiar prickle behind my eyes, and then they start to water. I cover them with my hands and lean against the wall.

  “She’s just jealous, ’cause you look better in it than she would have.”

  “Yeah, right.” It sounds childish, and it sounds even worse because I’m sure he could hear that I’m crying. I could barely squeak the words out. But Nichole, jealous of me? Either Saiph’s just saying that to comfort me, or things work a lot differently up in star world.

  Saiph lets out a frustrated sigh. “It’s the dress. You know it is.”

  “Not for me it isn’t.” Maybe someday I’ll have the guts to wear a dress like this, but that’s not today. I wipe my eyes and open the door. I turn around, so that I’ve got my back to Saiph. “Could you, um, unzip me?” I try to say that as casually as I can. More than anything, I’m afraid that he’ll say no and I’ll have to flag down the saleswoman again, and then she’ll know I’ve been crying, too. And she’ll ask me, out of politeness, if I want to buy the dress, and then I’ll feel ashamed of myself all over again.

  But, for once, Saiph doesn’t argue. I hold up the front of the dress while he reaches under the cape and unzips the back. I catch sight of his face in the dressing room mirror.

  He looks disappointed.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Louder.” Saiph motions for me to speak up.

  It’s Sunday afternoon and we’re in my bedroom, practicing for the play. I clear my throat and stare at the floor. I’m clutching the script so tightly, it’s got huge wrinkles on one side. And when I’m not doing that, I’m rolling it up like a newspaper, then unfurling it, or ripping little strips off the edge. We’ve only been at this for half an hour, and already my script looks like it got run over by a car. A very clean car that didn’t leave tire marks, but you get the idea.

  I glance at my next line, even though I’ve read it fifty times. I know what it says, but my heart pounds and my face heats up. Even holed up in my room, with the door locked and the window closed, and my mom out buying groceries, so that no one but Saiph could possibly hear me, I still can’t help feeling self-conscious. And let’s just say I’m making extra good use of my “inside voice,” because no matter how many times Saiph tells me to read it louder, I can barely whisper my lines.

  I fidget a little more, then stare at the script as I read it out loud. “‘It’s never the right season for us.’” This is the scene where the guy Victoria likes finally tells her he loves her, but that he can’t stay. She’s not exactly happy with him, and it’s a pretty heated conversation, but I say the line with as little feeling as possible. I hardly move my lips.

  Saiph closes his eyes, his shoulders slumping. “That was lame.”

  I know. He doesn’t have to tell me that. “I’m no good at this.”

  “Victoria has an English accent.”

  “I don’t do accents. And I don’t do Victoria, just Adrienne.”

  Saiph shakes his head. “You don’t even sound that dead. This scene is supposed to be passionate.”

  Passionate. Maybe it’d help if I’d ever had a passionate moment in my life. “I’m out of practice.”

  “Hence the practice session.”

  I slump down on the bed. “I can’t act. I’ll just have to tell Mrs. Wagner the deal’s off. I can pretend I lost my voice or something.”

  Saiph bashes me over the head with one of my pillows. “Don’t you want the lead? Don’t you want to be up on stage, in front of all those people?”

  This should be easy to answer. I mean, me? Doing something in front of an audience? I see flashes of myself, reading my poem in front of everyone, and I want to curl up and die all over again. But that was before slaying a dragon in front of Mrs. Wagner. As crappy as it felt when everyone laughed at my expense during the poem incident, nothing could top how great it was to have someone clapping and cheering for me after I slayed that dragon.

  So that’s why, when Saiph asks me if I want to play the lead in front of all those people, I know the answer is yes. Yes, I, Adrienne Speck, am a glutton for punishment. “But only if I can do a good job, and I can’t.” I shrug, pretending like blowing it off would be no big deal. Even though right now I feel like I’d kill to be on that stage, giving the performance of my life.

  “If you give up the lead, who do you think’s going to get it instead?”

  “Nichole. But at least she can act. Mrs. Wagner only thinks I was acting. She doesn’t know it was real. That’s kind of cheating.”

  “Not if you prove her right. You can do this. I know you can.”

  He says it like he really believes it, like he believes in me. He’s seen the unicorns and the Britney Spears CD and the pink flower-girl dress. And I’m pretty sure he knows I was crying in the dressing room yesterday. I stare down at my hand
s, pressed against my knees. “Everyone’s going to be watching. Nichole, Mrs. Wagner, and even my mom. Assuming I make it to opening night. I can’t bring myself to put any feeling into it. That’s the kind of thing that gets you laughed at.”

  Saiph makes a sound like a buzzer in a game show. “Ehhhh. Wrong.” He shakes his head at me. “Not putting in enough feeling is what’s going to get you laughed at. If people can see you’re afraid, that’s when they’ll turn on you. You can’t only go half way. If you go for it at all, you have to mean it. You have to believe. Now, let’s try this scene again. Victoria’s mad because nothing in her life’s working out. She’s angry at Will because just when he finally declared his love for her, he tells her the king’s called him away to war. He’s sworn to protect his king and country, and he can’t run away with her, even if he and Victoria might never see each other again. Wouldn’t you be mad if that happened to you?”

  It’s not too hard to imagine. I’ve never had a boyfriend before—and especially not a knight—but everything going wrong all the time? That I can understand. I try to picture how it would be if somebody I liked finally liked me back, only to have them go far away and never return. It wouldn’t be fair. Just like life isn’t fair, because if it was, there wouldn’t be any Nichole Hamiltons and her robot look-a-likes. Everyone would get the dress they wanted at a good price, and it wouldn’t matter where they shopped. My mom would accept me as I am and not care if I’m not perfect, like her.

  “‘Summer,’” Saiph says, not needing to look at the script, “‘it’s not the right season for us.’”

  “‘It’s never the right season for us!’” I stomp my foot. I feel all the rage I’ve been building up inside me.

  Saiph smiles and keeps going. “‘Maybe in the fall. The war will be over. I’ll come back for you in the fall.’”

  “‘Winter, you mean. You’re never here when you say you’ll be! I’m here in this cold castle, all by myself, day in and day out, getting colder and colder. Summer isn’t our season, fall isn’t our season. I’ll be damned if winter and spring aren’t our seasons, too.’” I get louder and louder as I get more into it. I forget about trying to do the accent and just let the words out, like I’ve been waiting my whole life to say them.

  “‘I’ll be back, I swear. On my oath. Just wait for me a little longer.’”

  “‘A lady gets tired of waiting. I’ve been doing that for far too long. Give me one good reason why I should wait for you.’”

  Saiph moves closer to me, playing the part. He waits just the right amount of time, letting the tension build up. If we had an audience, they’d be riveted. “‘Because I’ve known you all your life and I love you.’”

  This is the part where they kiss. We’re close enough to. I don’t know when that happened, but I’m staring into Saiph’s eyes, as deep blue and sparkling as that dress. A warm feeling flares up in my chest, and I can feel my cheeks get hot. It all happens so fast. One minute we’re acting, and the next, I’m not so sure. Saiph leans forward. Everything’s warm and wonderful and perfect, but before his lips touch mine, I turn away, so that he gets the side of my face instead.

  I don’t know why I avoided the kiss, but I know the moment’s over, ruined forever. It leaves a sour taste in my mouth, and a raw, painful longing claws its way through my chest.

  Chapter Sixteen

  It’s later that night, and I should be in bed, instead of gazing out my bedroom window with Saiph. The sky’s clear and the moon’s out, but it’s only a sliver. We can see a lot of stars. I don’t know what most of the constellations are, but I bet Saiph does. He’s from one, right?

  “I should go to bed.” I’m already in my pajamas, but I don’t want to sleep yet. There’s something peaceful about just sitting here with him, looking at the sky.

  “Go ahead. Snore away.” Saiph continues kneeling by the window, his elbows on the sill.

  “First off, I do not snore. And second, that means you have to leave.”

  “What for?”

  “Well, because…” Because I can’t sleep with someone else in the room? But I know how much he hates the attic, and I don’t have the heart to banish him yet. Plus, there are so many things I’d like to ask him about where he’s from and what it’s like, being a star.

  But before I can question him on his home life, Saiph gets up and stretches. “The dance is coming up. If you want a date, you should ask him.” He winks at me.

  I feel a twinge of disappointment in my chest. I thought he was okay with staying here for a while, but he must be so eager to get back home. And looking up at the night sky probably just reminds him how much he doesn’t want to be here.

  I sit down cross-legged on the bed. “You want me to ask someone out?” It’s a terrifying thought. Just thinking about it makes my stomach turn into a cold little ball of fear. “How do I know he’ll say yes?”

  Saiph plops down in front of me. He’s still got that dazed look he always gets from staring at the sky. He beams at me. His white-blond hair practically glows in the moonlight. “I’m sure this guy, whoever he is, will say yes.” He has a hand over his heart. “You can trust me, right?”

  I’m smiling, despite the fact that he’s telling me to do the one thing scarier than reading a crappy poem in front of everyone or doing the worst audition in the history of the universe. But Saiph sounds so sincere. He believes in me. It’s contagious.

  He gets up to leave. “When you’re ready, just ask.” He clicks his tongue and pretends to tip his hat to me, even though he’s not wearing one. Then he glances over his shoulder and smiles at me one more time before closing the door. I don’t even remind him to be careful, in case my mom is up, or to go straight to the attic. I’m too busy dreaming about someone actually saying yes to me asking them out. On a date.

  And all I have to do is work up the courage to ask.

  I look back out the window, to check and see if there are pigs flying or anything. Because that’s about as likely as me having the guts to ask someone out, no matter what Saiph promised.

  ***

  It’s Monday morning, and I can’t believe I’m doing this. As soon as Saiph and I walked into the school, I saw him, and I knew who I wanted to go to the dance with. Jason Thomas. The popular guy who’s got every girl within a ten-mile radius crushing on him, and who probably doesn’t even know my last name. I see him, and instantly, all that stuff Saiph said last night just clicks. Before I can stop myself, I’m leaving Saiph standing in the hall and marching over to Jason and his friends. They all wear letterman jackets, with patches for sports sewn on them, and I’m pretty sure none of them would ever willingly look my way, even if I was on fire. Well, except Jason.

  My heart’s beating so fast, it’s amazing I can still function. Or maybe I can’t function, and that’s why I’m doing this. But I’ve got magic on my side. My own personal genie from outer space said all I had to do was ask. And I don’t know where this streak of nerves came from, but I’m not going to give myself the chance to chicken out.

  Besides, I slayed a dragon this weekend. I could have died. Talking to a guy should be nothing, right?

  “Jason.” My voice wavers at first, but I clench my fists and force myself to be louder. Bolder. Like I mean it. Saiph says confidence helps. I am a girl with a mission.

  Jason blinks at me, confused, though you’d think he’d be used to strange girls coming up to him. It must happen all the time.

  I stand up straight, and I even smile. “I’ve been wanting to ask you something.”

  He raises an eyebrow, a deer-in-the-headlights expression on his face. “Yeah…?”

  I take a deep breath and take the plunge. I have Saiph’s word this can’t go wrong. I’m never going to have a better chance than this. “Will you go to the winter dance with me?”

  It takes a second for that to register with him, and I think it’s the slowest second of my life. I watch as it hits him, what I’ve just said. The confusion on his face morphs into disgus
t. He looks like he just took a bite out of a particularly nasty lemon. His face twitches, and he glances around at his friends. “Is this a joke?”

  They shake their heads and shrug. One of them claps him on the back, snickering as he says, “This is for reals, man. Congratulations.”

  Jason looks like he’s going to throw up. He holds out his hands to ward me off and takes a step back. “No way. Like I’d go out with a dog-loser like her!”

  He talks about me like I’m not standing right in front of him, like I’m not a real person. My blood runs cold and prickly. I’m standing there, smiling like an idiot, because I can’t believe what just happened. He was supposed to say yes. Saiph promised me.

  People are laughing. More and more people. Everyone just saw me, the biggest nerd in school, ask the most popular guy to the dance. Tears spring into my eyes, but I hold my head up long enough to walk around the corner and out of sight before I make a run for it.

  All I can think is that Saiph lied to me. He built me up. He was supposed to use his magic, and he even made me believe in myself, just like Mrs. Grady did with the whole poetry incident. And look what that got me.

  I do the only thing I can think of. I run into the girls’ bathroom. I fling the door open and throw myself inside. Tears stream down my cheeks. I’m pretty sure my face is red. Worse, everyone saw me. And if they didn’t, they’ll hear about it soon enough. By the end of the day, my life will be a living hell once again.

  I have a feeling it’ll be even worse the second time around.

  “Adrienne?”

  I look up and see Toby. Toby, from my math and English classes. I wonder what he’s doing in the girls’ bathroom, until I look around. Tears blur my vision, making it hard to see, but I can still make out the row of urinals lining one wall.

  Oh my God. I’m in the boys’ bathroom. I can’t even run dramatically into the girls’ room and cry my eyes out properly. What is wrong with me?

  Toby’s cleaning his glasses, rubbing them with the end of his shirt, like it’s no big deal that there’s a girl sobbing her eyes out in the boys’ room. “You were really great the other day.”