by Cici Wickens
“And what about me? You said that I’d get abilities when I turn 18. But what am I?” I ask.
“You are a Faerie. I do not know what abilities you have inherited specifically, so I am unaware of what kind of Faerie you are. Although I do know that you are of the Fae bloodline. You are a Faerie for sure. I can already feel the power burning inside of you. It will grow every day. The Queen does not know what she is up against. You are a Faerie though.” She stated matter-of-factly. I notice that she has a tendency to repeat things. I’m also beginning to realize that Janelle didn’t seem all there. Which gives me reason to wonder if anything she’s saying is accurate or true, if you catch my drift. And if she can truly see into the future, then why doesn’t she know what type of Faerie I’ll be?
“And if I decide to continue living my normal life, even if I were to receive these said abilities, what would happen? What will happen if I don’t accept my Fate?” I ask, giving her a level stare.
“The Dimension of Aurum will cease to exist, and as will any supernatural with its lifeforce running through their veins. Including yourself and those you will come to care about.”
The threat of her words hangs in the air. For a moment, I’m terrified. I believe everything she’s said. I take a deep breath and it passes. I remember that Janelle is insane and that I’m the one in control of my life.
Without warning, Janelle hurried out the bedroom muttering about food. Minerva and I looked at each other. I burst out laughing. I’m surprised I was able to keep a straight face throughout the conversation. I’ll admit that the stuff she said was interesting, and I enjoyed playing along with her, but it was so out of this world that I would never consider it to be true. It’s obvious that Janelle’s lost her marbles.
Minerva doesn’t laugh with me.
We got up and entered the kitchen in total silence. I look at the spaghetti and white bread, and my mouth doesn’t water. I physically gag. “What’s wrong Princess? Are you sick?” Janelle worried.
The Princess title is going to get old. “No. I’m allergic to anything that doesn’t come from water.” I would’ve thought that Janelle of all people would be aware of this, seeing that she can read the future and all. I inwardly smirk.
“You didn’t tell me that!” Minerva accused with a stab of her meatball. “We would have made seafood. I was wondering why that’s all I ever see you eat. I had just thought you were in a seafood mood. Am I the only one that doesn’t know this?”
“Sorry.” I say with an apologetic smile. “And no, the only person I’ve told besides you is Ron, but I wasn’t very specific.”
“You told Ron before me?” She exclaimed in exasperation.
“It was a weird moment.” I say with a shrug.
“Have you spoken with anyone about your dreams?” Janelle inquired abruptly.
I nod my head. “Well, I told Ron. But, I’m not sure if he actually believed anything I said or read that much into it. Why does it matter?”
“You should keep this secret. You never know who is listening. The information could easily be used to earn the Queen’s favor. You never know who is listening. Do not underestimate people. Remember that anything about you can be used against you.” Janelle said sternly.
“I’ll be more careful.” I say to soothe her worries.
“Good. I have some shrimp from lunch earlier.” Janelle made her way over to her refrigerator, dumped some boiled shrimp onto a plate, and popped it in the microwave. After about thirty seconds, the timer went off and she handed me the plate.
“Thanks.”
We ate in silence, and my mind focuses on the beautiful vase of lavender in the center of the table, which helps the time pass. I believe Janelle was trying to give Minerva and I time to digest everything she’d told us. Personally, I’m just trying to regurgitate it.
“Well, thank you for dinner, Mrs. Janelle. I’d better start getting home though.” I gesture towards the grandfather clock on the wall that read 9:17. It’s still a little early, but I find that I don’t want to be here for much longer.
“Yes, Princess. Goodnight. It was nice meeting you.” Minerva’s parents replied together, as if they had practiced it. And that’s my cue.
“Goodnight, thanks for having me over.” I give them both hugs hoping that the crazy won’t rub off on me. I walk over to Minerva, and we hug and exchange our goodnights.
I open the front door and begin jogging towards my car, but before I get there I hear Minerva calling for me to ‘wait up’. When she reached me she whispered, “Is my mom telling the truth? Do you believe the stuff she said in there?”
I don’t want to offend her by calling her mom a loon, so instead I just mutter, “I’m not sure.”
She nodded understandingly. “Okay. Be careful.”
It was easy to write off the things Janelle had said, but the fact that Minerva could draw my dreams is something that I can’t ignore. This is physical evidence. It’s legit. But at least this has a more down-to-earth explanation. I was open to the possibility of the sixth-sense being the reason for her drawings. I would believe that Minerva and I share a spiritual bond over me being a princess any day. The token could easily be symbolic. Perhaps my dreams are meant to be deciphered? Hell-Cats and Spiritseekers might represent an obstacle I’ll face.
“Okay, thanks.” I say vaguely, wondering how she expected me to respond.
Minerva looked down. “See you at school tomorrow.”
I nod in agreement and we went our separate ways. As I drove off though, I couldn’t shake the feeling that someone had been watching our exchange.
✽ ✽ ✽
My curiosity got the better of me when I made it home. I researched a little on Prophets. And then I dove a bit deeper on topics like the sixth-sense and the meaning behind dreams.
I found out that Prophets are defined as people who are in contact with a divine being, and that they serve as intermediaries. I don’t recall Janelle mentioning anything about someone she served. As for the sixth-sense, it was sometimes involved in communicating with the dead. But, it was also known as the ‘inner eye’ and could be used to predict the future. Another site said that everyone had it, describing it as more of a hunch.
When I looked up the meaning behind my dreams, I didn’t have much luck. No one had experienced Hell-Cats and Spiritseekers and evil queens like I had. The only thing that came up was a bunch of mumbo jumbo.
I finally decide to give up and go to sleep, realizing that all this searching is only filling me with more doubts. It’d be better to just ignore everything.
Chapter 23
Death by Pizza
Iris
Today is Thursday, and I have to go get pizza with Cam. I tell myself that today will be a normal day. I stop by the house to freshen up after I’m done with school. I change into a loose red dress and black sandals. I had put in rods last night, so my curls are more defined today. I rubbed a bit more oil through my hair to rejuvenate it after a long day at school. After checking myself out in the mirror and spritzing myself with my usual vanilla perfume, I grab my keys and start driving.
I’m about an hour away from the pizza joint. Cam’s drive would be much longer than mine since he’d be coming from Florida. I feel bad for him. But hey, better him than me.
Once I’m seated in a booth, I check my watch. 4:49 pm. Eleven minutes until Cam is due to arrive. I look around the pizza place. It gives off that classic Italian vibe. Beautiful paintings of grapes and wine line the wall, and you can see pizzas being tossed in the air from where you’re seated.
I wonder why my father would choose a pizza place for Cam and I to eat at, instead of a hibachi restaurant or something.
“Hi, how are you? Would you like to try some of our specialty wine today?” A blonde waitress asked. I look at her name tag—Cindy.
“No thank you. Can I get a glass of water instead please?” Do I look old enough to drink wine?
“Absolutely. Are you ready to order or do you ne
ed some more time?” She asked me as she wrote my drink down in her pocket-sized notebook.
I shake my head. “Not yet. I’m waiting for a friend.”
“I never said I was your friend.” Cam reprimanded as he slid into the booth in front of me.
“Um, what would you like to drink?” She flushed.
Cam motioned for her to lean in closer and said something that I didn’t quite catch.
She scribbled it down. “I’ll be right back with your drinks.”
We sit in an awkward silence once she leaves. “You smell good.” I blurt randomly. I had worded it better in my head.
Cam gave me a look. “Of course I do.”
I roll my eyes.
Cindy set our drinks before us. “Are the two of you ready to order now?”
I point at Cam. “What do you want?”
“Large Supreme.”
“I’m okay with my glass of water.” I tell her.
She furrowed her perfectly plucked eyebrows. “You just want a glass of water? Are you sure?”
“Yes.” I snap at all her questioning. “One large supreme pizza and that’s all.” I clarify, silently daring her to defy me. I get so tired of people questioning my order when I go to restaurants. Whenever I say that I don’t want any seasoning besides salt on my shrimp, I mean it.
She wrote down the order and waltzed off with a smile at Cam.
“Well, someone dressed up nice for pizza.” Cam retorted as he looked me up and down, causing me to blush.
I do the same to him, although more discreetly, and realize that he was just wearing a snug gray t-shirt and some jeans.
“I know I did.” I decide to say with a small grin.
“Well, now you make me look underdressed.” He said.
“Are you trying to give me a compliment?” I tease.
“It was a statement.” Cam seemed irritated for a second. “So, how’s the new school going for you?” He asked, changing the topic.
While I was responding, he took a long drink. I can tell it was alcohol from the smell. That glass cup wasn’t fooling me. “It’s doing okay. I’ve already made four really good friends. Ron’s hilarious, but has his wise moments. Jen is smart…and odd. Thomas is sweet and kind.” I laugh. “And crazy when he gets drunk. Minerva seems shy and a bit harsh at times, but she’s a mischievous girl at heart. They’ve all helped me deal with losing…with switching schools a lot easier.” I wipe the condensation from my glass. “I’m inviting them all to hang out for my birthday on Saturday, even Minerva’s older brother Blaze. I hope he’s cute.”
Cam choked on his beer.
“Are you okay?” I ask while I hand him a napkin.
He wouldn’t meet my eyes. “Yeah, it didn’t go down the right pipe.”
“How’s the college thing going?” I question. I take a sip of my ice-cold water and wait for him to answer. It felt so good going down my parched throat.
“Eh. It’s going.”
“That’s what I figured.” I mutter.
“Hm?” He raised his eyebrows.
“Oh, nothing.” I wave him off.
“How have you been? You know, after…”
“I’ve been dealing. I won’t say that things have gotten easier…me and my dad just…we think of everything as living for her now.” I meet his light blue eyes from across the table. I think back to when I first met him, on that night. He had consoled me in his own way. It was strange meeting him like this, but nice.
He raised his glass a little. “Cheers to that.”
Cindy appeared, balancing her tray in her hand. In just a few seconds, she had the pizza placed in front of us. It’s bubbling hot and covered with all kinds of stuff.
“Anything else I can get for the two of you?” Cindy inquired.
“I think we’re good, but thanks.” Cam responded. He put a few slices onto his plate. Cindy nodded her head and walked off. “This looks really good.” He muttered.
“Yep.” I vaguely say.
Cam paused mid-bite. “What are you doing Iris?”
“What do you mean?” Oh, please. Please don’t ask what I think you are.
“Aren’t you going to eat some? Are you on some kind of weird diet or something?” Yep, he asked. And he said it like it was the most horrifying thing in the world. I hate that word. Every time that someone mentions it the word seems to echo ominously into the background.
“I’ve never eaten pizza before. It all looks nasty, especially the kind at school.” I say, nearly tripping over the words. I really don’t want him to know that I can only eat things that come from the water—aquatic plants and seafood. I just want this lunch to be a normal one.
“Have you had this type of pizza?” He questioned as he thrust a big slice towards me.
My eyes take in the onions and sausage. My stomach clenches as usual. “No, why?”
“You’re in a pizza restaurant, Iris. You have to try the pizza.” He said and shook his head at me.
“I’m not eating that pizza.”
“Yes, you are.”
“No, I’m no-” I begin to say, but Cam pushed the slice at my face. I manage to shut my mouth, blocking the majority of it, and end up getting sauce smeared all over my lower face and the tip of my nose as a result. I quickly spit an onion out and hold a napkin to my mouth. Luckily, I don’t swallow any of it. “What the fudge, Cam?” I drag my tongue along the napkin and wipe my face.
“You basically asked for that.” He gave me a pointed look.
I shook my head at him disapprovingly.
He shrugged his shoulders and promptly grabbed another slice, ignoring my glare. “Did you like it?”
“No, it was repulsive. Please, don’t ever try that again. You’ll probably kill me.” I joke, though he could have killed me just then.
“You are such a weird girl.”
“You have no idea.” I mumble. I’m grateful that he hasn’t mentioned the situation where my elbow magically healed.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked.
“Nothing at all.”
I then remember why I’m mainly here in the first place. Mr. White was worried about Cameron. I need to get something out of him—some reason as to why he has been shutting everyone out. But how in the world do I fish that out of him without sounding totally nosy and without giving up the true agenda of this ‘lunch date’?
He took another swig of his beer and I wonder how old he is. Not old enough to drink beer, that’s for sure. The oldest he could be was nineteen or twenty.
“Why did she let you have a beer?” I ask out of the blue.
He gave me what I’ve decided as his signature smile—the sly one that only goes up on one side. “I’ve got my ways.”
“Why can’t you just give me a straight answer? Do you do that with everyone? Answer the question.” The irritation in my voice was real.
“I—” He opened his mouth and then promptly shut it. “I used my charm. It’s obvious that our waitress has a thing for me.” He said, like that explained everything I had asked. “Why do you even care?”
“I’m just worried. You shouldn’t be drinking while your underage. Does your dad know you drink?” I realize that this is a bit hypocritical, seeing as Thomas and Ron drank the other night and I did nothing to stop them. But hey, he doesn’t know that.
Cam gave me a long look. “That isn’t really any of your business.”
I laugh, partially trying to keep my cool. “Calm down Cam! I was just wondering. You’re way too serious sometimes. I bet your friends tell you that all the time. What are they like?”
Cam doesn’t respond to my question, he just resumes eating.
“Don’t tell me that you’re one of those guys. ‘I’ve got to shut everyone out. No one can get close to me’.” I tease daringly.
Cam fisted his hands, and I can tell I’ve hit a nerve. “Can you stop talking?” He asked, settling his bright green eyes on me.
I wince at his tone. “Yeah, sure. M
y bad.” I’m terrible at subtle investigation. Mr. White would just have to figure out what’s been troubling Cam himself.
Cam folded his arms and leaned back in his seat. He stared at the pizza, looking like he’d lost his appetite. I feel horrible.
“I need to go pee.” I announce.
“Good for you.” Cam murmured.
I’m quick with my bathroom trip, not wanting to keep Cam waiting too long. I had mostly needed an intermission. Some time to breathe.
Cam has his head in his hands when I walk back out. I feel a twinge of guilt. I had upset him. Drawing nearer, I swear I hear Cam mumble under his breath, “There’s just something about her...”
I stop dead in my tracks. “What did you just say?”
His green eyes widened, and his face turned red in embarrassment. It’s nice to see him caught off guard for once. “I-I-”
“There’s just something about me?” I raise my eyebrow playfully.
He recovered from shock and tried to play it cool. “Beer makes me say things that I normally don’t mean.”
A few of the other diners gasp. I realize that I was standing in their way, and that they had heard our whole conversation. “He’s such a jerk,” one of them with glasses mumbled. “How embarrassin’,” a heavy-chested woman with a jersey accent exclaimed.
With a huff, I snatch my purse from the booth and march out of the restaurant. I don’t have to deal with this crap. There’s already enough going on in my life.
Someone grabbed me by the arm and yanked me back, just as a car whizzed by. My stomach plummets. I comprehend that if the person hadn’t pulled me back I would’ve walked straight into traffic.
“Thanks.” I mutter, shocked that I was almost smooshed thinking about a boy that I hardly even know. I look at my savior in appreciation. He’s Asian, around my age, and has spiky black hair.
“It was nothing.” He paused. “Are…you okay? I mean, I heard what that guy said to you.”
“I’m fine.” I say, not meeting his eyes.
“Good. You should forget about him. There are plenty of other guys out there who would treat a pretty girl like you with more respect.” He said with a hint of a smile. I take it that he means himself.