“I’m a wonderful dancer,” Finn replied matter-of-factly. “I just need a better partner.”
“Okay.” I stopped looking up at him and stared straight ahead over his shoulder. “I don’t know what to say to that.”
“Why do you need to say anything to that? It’s not necessary for you to speak incessantly. Although I’m not sure you’ve realized that yet.” Finn’s tone had gotten icy, but I still danced with him because I couldn’t come up with enough sense to walk away.
“I’ve barely said anything. I’ve just been dancing with you.” I swallowed hard and didn’t appreciate how crushed I felt. “And you asked me to dance! It’s not like you’re doing me a favor.”
“Oh, come on,” Finn said with an exaggerated eye roll. “The desperation was coming off you in waves. You were all but begging to dance with me. I am doing you a favor.”
“Wow.” I stepped back from him, feeling confused tears threatening and this awful pain growing inside of me. “I don’t know what I did to you!” His expression softened, but it was too late.
“Wendy—”
“No!” I cut him off. Everyone nearby had stopped dancing to stare at us, but I didn’t care. “You are a total dick!”
“Wendy!” Finn repeated, but I turned and hurried through the crowd.
There was nothing in the world I wanted more than to get out of here. Patrick, a kid from biology class, stood by the punch bowl, and I rushed over to him. We weren’t friends, but he’d been one of the few kids here who had been nice to me. When he saw me, he looked confused and concerned, but at least I had his attention.
“I want to leave. Now,” I hissed at Patrick.
“What—” Before Patrick could ask what had happened, Finn appeared at my side.
“Look, Wendy, I’m sorry,” Finn apologized sincerely, which only pissed me off more.
“I don’t wanna hear anything from you!” I snapped and refused to look at him. Patrick looked back and forth between the two of us, trying to decipher what was going on.
“Wendy,” Finn floundered. “I didn’t mean—”
“I said I don’t want to hear it!” I glared at him, but only for a second.
“Maybe you should let the guy apologize,” Patrick suggested gently.
“No, I shouldn’t.” Then, like a small child, I stomped my foot. “I want to go!”
Finn stood just to the side of us, watching me intently. I clenched my fists and looked at Patrick directly in his eyes. I didn’t like doing this when people watched, but I had to get out of here. I kept chanting what I wanted over and over in my head. I want to go home, just take me home, please, please, just take me home. I can’t be here anymore.
Patrick’s face started to change, his expression growing relaxed and faraway. Blinking, he stared blankly at me for a minute.
“I think I should just take you home,” Patrick said groggily.
“What did you just do?” Finn asked, narrowing his eyes.
My heart stopped beating, and for one terrifying second I was certain he knew what I’d done. But then I realized that’d be impossible, so I shook it off.
“I didn’t do anything!” I snapped and looked back at Patrick. “Let’s get out of here.”
“Wendy!” Finn said, giving me a hard look. “Do you even know what you just did?”
“I didn’t do anything!” I grabbed Patrick’s wrist, dragging him toward the exit, and, much to my relief, Finn didn’t follow.
In the car, Patrick tried to ask me what had happened with Finn, but I wouldn’t talk about it. He drove around for a while, so I was reasonably calm by the time he dropped me off, and I couldn’t thank him enough for it.
Matt and Maggie were waiting by the door for me, but I barely said a word to them. That freaked out Matt, who started threatening to kill every boy at the dance, but I managed to reassure him that I was fine and nothing bad had happened. Finally, he let me go up to my room, where I proceeded to throw myself onto the bed and not cry.
The night swirled in my head like some bizarre dream. I couldn’t get a read on the way I felt about Finn. Most of the time he seemed weird and bordering on creepy. But then we had that glorious moment when we danced together, before he completely shattered it.
Even now, after the way he’d treated me, I couldn’t shake how wonderful it had felt being in his arms like that. In general, I never liked being touched or being close to people, but I loved the way I had felt with him.
His hand strong and warm on the small of my back and the soft heat that flowed from him. When he had looked at me then, so sincerely, I had thought . . .
I don’t know what I had thought, but it turned out to be a lie.
Strangest of all, he seemed to be able to tell that I had done something to Patrick. I didn’t know how anyone could know. I wasn’t even sure that I was doing it. But a normal, sane person wouldn’t even suspect that I could do that.
I could suddenly explain all Finn’s odd behavior: he was completely insane.
What it came down to was that I knew nothing about him. I could barely tell when he was mocking me and when he was being sincere. Sometimes I thought he was into me, and other times he obviously hated me.
There wasn’t anything I knew about him for sure. Except that despite everything, I was starting to like him.
Sometime in the night, after I had changed into sweats and a tank top, and after I had spent a very long time tossing and turning, I must’ve finally fallen asleep. When I woke up, it was still dark out, and I had drying tears on my cheeks. I had been crying in my sleep, which seemed unfair, since I never let myself cry when I was awake.
I rolled over and glanced at the alarm clock. Its angry numbers declared it was a little after three in the morning, and I wasn’t sure why I was awake. I flicked on my bedside lamp, casting everything in a warm glow, and I saw something that scared me so badly, my heart stopped.
THREE
stalker
A figure was crouched outside my window, my second-story window. Admittedly, a small roof was right outside of it, but a person standing on it was about the last thing I expected to see. On top of that, it wasn’t just anybody.
Finn Holmes looked hopeful, but not at all ashamed or frightened at having been caught peeping into my room. He knocked gently at the glass, and belatedly I realized that’s what had woken me up.
He hadn’t been peeping intentionally; he’d been trying to get my attention so I could let him into my room. So that was slightly less creepy, I supposed.
For some reason, I got up and went over to the window. I caught sight of myself in my mirror, and I did not look good. My pajamas were of the sad, comfy variety. My hair was a total mess, and my eyes were red and puffy.
I knew I shouldn’t let Finn in my room. He was probably a sociopath and he didn’t make me feel good about myself. Besides, Matt would kill us both if he caught him in here.
So I stood in front of the window, my arms crossed, and glared at him. I was pissed off and hurt, and I wanted him to know it. Normally I prided myself on not getting hurt, let alone telling people they had hurt me. But this time I thought it would be better if he knew that he was a dick.
“I’m sorry!” Finn said loud enough so his voice would carry through the glass, and his eyes echoed the sentiment. He looked genuinely remorseful, but I wasn’t ready to accept his apology yet. Maybe I never would.
“What do you want?” I demanded as loudly as I could without Matt hearing me.
“To apologize. And to talk to you.” Finn looked earnestly at me. “It’s important.”
I chewed my lip, torn between what I knew I should do and what I really wanted to do.
“Please,” he said.
Against my better judgment, I opened the window. I left the screen in place and took a step back so I was sitting on the end of my bed. Finn pulled the screen out easily, and I wondered how much experience he had sneaking in girls’ windows.
Carefully, he climbed into my room,
shutting the window behind him. He glanced over my room, making me feel self-conscious. It was rather messy, with clothes and books strewn about, but most of my stuff sat in two large cardboard boxes and a trunk on one side of my room.
“So what do you want?” I said, trying to drag his attention back to me and away from my things.
“I’m sorry,” Finn repeated, with that same sincerity he had demonstrated outside. “Tonight I was cruel.” He looked away thoughtfully before continuing. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“So why did you?” I asked sharply.
Licking his lips, he shifted his feet and exhaled deeply. He had intentionally been mean to me. It wasn’t some accident because he was cocky or unaware of how he treated people. Everything he did was meticulous and purposeful.
“I don’t want to lie to you, and I promise you that I haven’t,” Finn answered carefully. “And I’ll leave it at that.”
“I think I have a right to know what’s going on,” I snapped and then remembered that Matt and Maggie were sleeping down the hall and hastily lowered my voice. “And what you’re doing at my window in the middle of the night.”
“I came here to tell you,” Finn assured me. “To explain everything. This isn’t the way we normally do things, so I had to make a phone call before I came to see you. I was trying to figure things out. That’s why it’s so late. I’m sorry.”
“Call who? Figure out what?” I took a step back.
“It’s about what you did tonight, with Patrick,” Finn said gently, and the pit in my stomach grew.
“I didn’t do anything with Patrick.” I shook my head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You really don’t?” Finn eyed me suspiciously, unable to decide if he believed me or not.
“I—I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I stammered. A chill ran over me and I started feeling vaguely nauseous.
“Yeah, you do.” Finn nodded solemnly. “You just don’t know what it is.”
“I’m just very . . . convincing,” I said without any real confidence. I didn’t want to keep denying it, but talking about it, giving credibility to my own private insanity, scared me even more.
“Yeah, you are,” Finn admitted. “But you can’t do that again. Not like you did tonight.”
“I didn’t do anything! And even if I did, who are you to try and stop me?” Something else flashed in my mind, and I looked at him. “Can you even stop me?”
“You can’t use it on me now.” Finn shook his head absently. “It’s really not that major, especially the way you’re using it.”
“What is it?” I asked quietly, finding it hard to make my mouth work. I let go of any pretense I had that I didn’t know what was going on, and my shoulders sagged.
“It’s called persuasion,” Finn said emphatically, as if that were somehow much different from what I had been saying. “Technically, it would be called psychokinesis. It’s a form of mind control.”
I found it disturbing how matter-of-factly he talked about all of this, as if we were talking about biology homework instead of the possibility that I possessed some kind of paranormal ability.
“How do you know?” I asked. “How do you know what I have? How did you even know I was doing it?”
He shrugged. “Experience.”
“What does that mean?”
“It’s complicated.” He rubbed the back of his head and stared at the floor. “You’re not going to believe me. But I haven’t lied to you, and I never will. Do you believe that, at least?”
“I think so,” I replied tentatively. Considering we’d only spoken a handful of times, he hadn’t had much of an opportunity to lie to me.
“That’s a start.” Finn took a deep breath, and I nervously pulled at a strand of my hair as I watched him. Almost sheepishly, he said, “You’re a changeling.” He looked expectantly at me, waiting for some kind of dramatic reaction.
“I don’t even know what that is. Isn’t it like a movie with Angelina Jolie or something?” I shook my head. “I don’t know what it means.”
“You don’t know what it is?” Finn smirked. “Of course you don’t know what it is. That would make it all too easy if you had even the slightest inkling about what is going on.”
“It would, wouldn’t it?” I agreed.
“A changeling is a child that has been secretly exchanged for another.”
The room got this weird, foggy quality to it. My mind flashed to my mother, and the things she had screamed at me. I had always felt I didn’t belong, but at the same time I’d never consciously believed it was true.
But now, suddenly, Finn confirmed all the suspicions I had been harboring. All the horrible things my mother had told me were true.
“But how . . .” Dazedly, I shook my head, then one key question sprang to mind. “How would you know that? How could you possibly know that? Even if it were true?”
“Well . . .” Finn watched me for a moment as I struggled to let everything sink in. “You’re Trylle. It’s what we do.”
“Trylle? Is that like your last name or something?” I asked.
“No.” Finn smiled. “Trylle is the name of our ‘tribe,’ if you will.” He rubbed the side of his temple. “This is hard to explain. We are, um, trolls.”
“You’re telling me that I’m a troll?” I raised one eyebrow, and finally decided that he must be insane.
Nothing about me resembled a pink-haired doll with a jewel in its stomach or a creepy little monster that lived under a bridge. Admittedly, I was kind of short, but Finn was at least six feet tall.
“You’re thinking of trolls the way they’ve been misrepresented, obviously,” Finn hurried to explain. “That’s why we prefer Trylle. You don’t get any of that silly ‘Billy Goats Gruff’ imagery. But now I have you staring at me like I have totally lost my mind.”
“You have lost your mind.” I trembled in shock and fear, not knowing what to think. I should’ve thrown him out of my room, but then again, I never should’ve let him in.
“Okay. Think about it, Wendy.” Finn moved on to trying to reason with me, as if his idea had real merit. “You’ve never really fit in anywhere. You have a quick temper. You’re very intelligent and a picky eater. You hate shoes. Your hair, while lovely, is hard to control. You have dark brown eyes, dark brown hair.”
“What does the color of my eyes have to do with anything?” I retorted. “Or any of those things—”
“Earth tones. Our eyes and hair are always earth tones,” Finn answered. “And oftentimes our skin has almost a greenish hue to it.”
“I’m not green!” I looked at my skin anyway, just to be sure, but there was nothing green about it.
“It’s very faint, when people do have it,” Finn said. “But no, you don’t. Not really. Sometimes it gets more predominant after you’ve been living around other Trylle for a while.”
“I am not a troll,” I insisted fiercely. “That doesn’t even make any sense. It doesn’t . . . So I’m angry and different. Most teenagers feel that way. It doesn’t mean anything.” I combed through my hair, as if to prove it wasn’t that wild. My fingers got caught in it, proving his point rather than mine, and I sighed. “That doesn’t mean anything.”
“I’m not just guessing here, Wendy,” Finn informed me with a wry smile. “I know who you are. I know you’re Trylle. That’s why I came looking for you.”
“You were looking for me?” My jaw dropped. “That’s why you stare at me all the time in school. You’re stalking me!”
“I’m not stalking.” Finn raised a hand defensively. “I’m a tracker. It’s my job. I find the changelings and bring them back.”
Of all the major things that were wrong with this situation, the thing that bothered me most was when he said it was his job. There hadn’t ever been any attraction between us. He had just been doing his job, and that meant following me.
He was stalking me, and I was only upset about it because he was doing it because
he had to, not because he wanted to.
“I know this is a lot to take in,” Finn admitted. “I’m sorry. We usually wait until you’re older. But if you’re already using persuasion, then I think you need to head back to the compound. You’re developing early.”
“I’m what?” I just stared up at him.
“Developing. The psychokinesis,” Finn said as if it should be obvious. “Trylle have varying degrees of ability. Yours are clearly more advanced.”
“They have abilities?” I swallowed “Do you have abilities?” Something new occurred to me, twisting my insides. “Can you read my mind?”
“No, I can’t read minds.”
“Are you lying?”
“I won’t lie to you,” Finn promised.
If he hadn’t been so attractive standing in front of me in my bedroom, it would’ve been easier to ignore him. And if I hadn’t felt this ludicrous connection with him, I would’ve thrown him out right away.
As it was, it was hard to look into his eyes and not believe him. But after everything he had been saying, I couldn’t believe him. If I believed him, that meant my mother was right. That I was evil and a monster. I had spent my whole life trying to prove her wrong, trying to be good and do the right things, and I wouldn’t let this be true.
“I can’t believe you.”
“Wendy.” Finn sounded exasperated. “You know I’m not lying.”
“I do.” I nodded. “Not intentionally anyway. But after what I went through with my mother, I’m not ready to let another crazy person into my life. So you have to go.”
“Wendy!” His expression was one of complete disbelief.
“Did you really expect any other reaction from me?” I stood up, keeping my arms crossed firmly in front of me, and I tried to look as confident as I possibly could. “Did you think you could treat me like shit at a dance, then sneak into my room in the middle of the night and tell me that I’m a troll with magical powers, and I’d just be like, yeah, that sounds right?
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