by Mia Sheridan
"You trust me," I said, knowing he wouldn't have told me what he did if that wasn't the case.
He nodded once. "I started trusting you a long time ago."
Warmth and a fierce feeling of pride filled my chest. Being trusted by Calder Raynes made me feel more special than I'd ever felt in my whole life. "My parents were kind," I said. "I remember so little of them, but that's one thing I know. They were kind."
"Will you tell me about them?" Calder asked, very gently.
I sighed, struggling to remember. "They were both blond." I took a piece of my own hair between my fingers and then let it fall. "Surprising, right?" I smiled and so did Calder. "And um, my mother, she smelled like flowers." I closed my eyes and inhaled as my mind conjured up her sweet, delicate scent. When I opened my eyes a minute later, Calder's head was tilted as he watched me, and his eyes looked darker somehow. I swallowed.
"What else?" he whispered.
"I think my dad did some kind of work with other people's money. And my mom, she didn't work, at least not that I recall. We lived in Cincinnati, I do know that." I shrugged. "I know they were good friends with Hector. I remember him being in our home. I remember my mother telling me we were coming to live with him. Here I'm assuming. But then . . . they were gone, and it was only Hector and me in a different house for a long time, years maybe. That's it. I've tried so hard to remember more from the time before, but it simply won't come. And I was young, I suppose."
"Do you know how your parents died?"
"It was a car accident. That's all I know."
Calder had his bottom lip between his teeth again in that way he had when he was thinking hard about something.
"What?" I asked.
He let his lip free, licking along it with his tongue before responding. "Nothing. I'm just sorry you lost your parents is all."
I had the feeling he had been about to say something else, but didn’t. I nodded anyway and said, "Thank you."
"So," he said, starting to get up. "Tomorrow? Same time? Same place?"
I stood, too, and nodded enthusiastically. "Yes. Um," I nodded toward the pad in his hands, "can I see your sketch?"
He looked down at it. "Oh. Yeah, sure." He turned it around and my breath caught.
He had sketched our—for suddenly that's what it was, ours—spring. He had only used charcoal pencil, but somehow it was lush and beautiful, the shadows and highlights hinting at the depth of color in the water, the rocks, the grass, and the sky. It was . . . breathtaking.
"Calder. You're . . . I've never seen anything that good. You've never had any lessons?"
He shook his head, watching me closely as if it mattered very much to him what I thought.
"You're just gifted, then. Very, very gifted." I felt awed by his talent and I was sure it must show in my expression.
He held it out to me. "It's for you."
I grinned, accepting it. "Thank you. Today, here with you, was a wonderful birthday gift." I began to carefully roll up the sketch so that I could carry it with me.
His expression took on surprise. "It's your birthday?"
I shook my head. "Tomorrow. I'll be seventeen. But this here," I hugged the rolled paper to my chest delicately, "is the best gift I could have ever asked for."
"No. No way. If I had known it was your birthday, I would have sketched one of you. A portrait." He smiled. "Tomorrow. On your actual day."
I smiled back. "Okay." I held up the canvas bag with all the supplies in it. "Should we hide this somewhere?"
Calder looked around and then took the bag from me and walked it over to a group of rocks to his right, placing it between two rocks sitting at an angle so it was like a mini-cave. He picked up a rock next to him and put it directly in front of the opening so it couldn't be seen.
We walked up the trail and when we got close to the top, he stopped and nodded at me to go before him so we wouldn't exit together.
When I got back to the main lodge, I walked quietly upstairs and unrolled the sketch of our spring, looking at it for several long minutes before rolling it back up again. I hid it in the far corner under my bed, and I stowed my time with Calder in a quiet, private corner of my heart.
I hadn’t been completely certain Calder would return today, whether he would decide it was too risky, or if he would decide he wasn't interested. And yet he had. His patience was unending as he taught me basic math. I hadn’t felt stupid, or ashamed as I started to grasp what must seem like such elemental things to him. It felt good to learn, to stretch my mind further than its normal boundaries. And as I went to bed that night, my heart felt full.
CHAPTER SIX
Calder
While I waited for the birthday girl, I looked around for the perfect portrait location, finally deciding on a large rock just to the left of the spring. It was lightly sun-dappled, mostly shaded by larger rocks. It would be perfect for her to lie back on while I sketched her.
I pictured Eden reclining there, her dress outlining her slim shape, her shirt molded to her small, round breasts, and my blood heated.
Don't, Calder. Don't even think about it.
No, thoughts like that about Eden were a very bad idea. She was off limits in the biggest way possible, and I needed to remember that. It would have been for the best if I had ended our exchange and never looked her way again. But the desire to be close to her was too hard to resist. I could be punished severely, but maybe it would be worth it. I struggled to think pure thoughts around her, but her beauty . . . Stop, Calder. Don't think about sex when she's about to arrive.
I picked up the small bouquet of flowers I had brought for her and placed them on the rock, thinking of that day so long ago when she had bravely marched out onto our game field with hope in her eyes.
Morning glory. As pretty as a flower, as strong as a weed.
I had loved our game through the years. To me it was an adventure, a secret. I had even used some morning glory seeds to plant a small bush at the edge of the field where I worked. It had been true what I said about morning glories being stronger than they looked. That bush worked to take over, but I kept it small and contained, just big enough to easily provide me with the blue flowers I left for Eden as regularly as possible.
"Hi," I heard behind me and smiled before I had fully turned around.
"Happy birthday," I said, walking over to her and taking her hand as she smiled and followed me.
"My portrait?" she asked. "I'm a little nervous. One of Mother Hailey's boys drew me last week and I looked like a squash with eyes." She laughed.
"I'd like to think my skills surpass his." I winked.
"Oh, yours definitely do. What I'm more worried about is I actually do look like a squash and your skilled portrait will confirm it."
I laughed as I placed both hands on her shoulders and turned her so she was leaning back against the rock. "You? A squash?" She laid back so I was now over her. I walked closer and moved her hair the way I wanted it. Our eyes locked and suddenly we both went serious. "Not even close," I whispered.
She remained still, her lips parting as her eyes went to my mouth like she had done the other day.
Oh, Eden, don't do that. Don't let me know you want to be kissed.
I leaned up quickly and turned to my supplies.
"Are you comfortable?" I asked, not turning around, clearing my throat. I took a deep breath and willed my body to settle down, too.
"Yes, I'm fine."
I sat down on a rock a few feet away, put my drawing pad on my lap, and began to trace her outline. Primal thoughts and urges coursed through me as my eyes moved back and forth between her body and my pencil. I halted and breathed out. Get a hold of yourself.
"So, what's our lesson today?" she asked quietly.
"Our lesson? Oh, lesson, right. Uh, more math?"
"No, I'll keep working on my addition and subtraction in my room in the evenings. How about some science today?"
My pencil kept moving. Once I got started, it was almost
as if my hand took over. I barely had to think about what I was drawing.
I tried to remember back to what I had learned when I was eight, about the age Eden would have been when she came here. "Do you know the states of matter?"
"No."
"Okay, we'll talk about those today and whatever else I can remember from first year science. I figure . . . well, I figure anything I can't remember probably isn't that important anyway. Or at least, it's not that applicable to life." I laughed softly and she smiled back at me, but then she went serious and sighed.
"What is applicable to life, Calder? Maybe Hector's right. If we're all going to go to Elysium soon enough, why should I bother learning about this world and how it works?"
My pencil kept working as I thought about that. "Remember what I told you about the morning glory that day?" I glanced up and she nodded at me. "I learned about them in an agriculture class field workers had to take." I glanced up at her, my eyes taking in the shape of her parted lips as I traced them on the paper. My heartbeat quickened. I imagined it was my finger, not the pencil, tracing those ripe lips. It felt intimate and personal. I cleared my throat. "Anyway, what if I hadn't known that detail that day? That knowledge resulted in years of butterscotch candy for me." I looked up at her and winked and she laughed softly, a blush moving up her face.
I looked down at my paper again and drew quietly for a minute. "My point is, you never know when a small piece of knowledge is going to come in handy or maybe . . . maybe even change your life. I think you should try to take in as much of it as possible. No one should ever stop you from gaining knowledge if you want it."
She was quiet for a minute. "Thank you, Calder."
"For what? This is an even trade. I'm benefitting here, too."
"You're risking here, too."
I looked up at her, focusing on her delicate cheekbones and then back down to my paper. "Somehow . . . it feels worth the risk."
I stood up and went to her and arranged her hair again so that a portion of it was in the sunlight where it glistened like gold. There was something shimmery about her, a glowy incandescence. No wonder she's the chosen one to lead us through darkness, I thought. She shines.
As my hand moved through the heavy silk of her hair, our eyes met.
"Calder . . ." she started.
"Yes?" I asked, my voice even raspier than it normally was. Time seemed to still, she and I were the only ones moving, the world around us pausing for this moment. Her full, rose-colored lips parted and I almost groaned.
"I . . ." She looked down, as a pink flush rose up her neck. Then her eyes bravely met my own. She leaned forward and planted her lips on mine. I startled slightly, my eyes remaining open, as her lips simply pressed against me, firm, but soft, her eyes closed. I knew I should move—I knew I should—but I was rooted to the spot, immobile, incapable of rational thought. And then her tongue poked out tentatively and before I even realized it, mine had, too. Her taste—it surrounded me—sweet and delicious as our tongues met and played gently, testing, experimenting. Eden sighed, her hands came up to grip my shoulders and she pulled me closer. She tilted her head and her wet tongue slid more deeply into my mouth.
The power of the need to mate, hard and vigorously, shocked me. I wanted her. I hadn't known this pull before today, but I knew it then. I wanted her desperately, but I pulled away, turning and attempting to cool my raging blood.
When I turned back around to her, her face was flushed and she blinked at me, her blush deepening. "I'm so sorry," she said quietly. "I just wanted . . . to kiss you. Just once. Even if you don't want to very much." She shook her head slightly, the expression on her face fierce, yet vulnerable, full of a wary strength that made me feel awed to be in her presence. From the very first time I had talked to her, when she asked to join our game, there was a determined force about her. She appeared meek, gentle, subdued. Yet a depth of strength was evident, something I'd never seen in anyone else I knew. "If I have to live in Elysium for eternity with someone I don't love, I thought maybe a kiss from you, even just one, would make it bearable." Her eyes rose to mine and I stared at her.
Her words shook me to my core. I had lived my life with the knowledge that a great flood would come and our community, Hector's people, would go to the promised land. I had dreamed of what Elysium would look like, would smell like, would feel like. I had secretly feared it even, wondering if it could possibly be everything Hector said it was. After all, he'd never actually been there. But I had never considered Eden might dread it—have dreams of her own that would never be fulfilled because of her role in the foretelling. I had even figured she looked upon her role as a gift, like the rest of us had been taught to. But clearly, that wasn't the case.
And yet . . . the gods knew best. Didn't they?
"That can't happen again, Eden." I backed away just a little bit. Eden's face fell and the blush seemed to deepen even more. She licked her lips, the lips I had just tasted, and I almost groaned, but caught myself.
"I'm sorry. That," she shook her head, "that was so very, very wrong of me. I'm sorry for putting you on the spot."
I put my hand on her arm; her skin was warm and soft. I removed my hand quickly. "No. I want to kiss you again, and I want to do it better. More than I'm willing to think too much about."
Eden's eyes widened. "Then . . . why? Why won't you?" Her eyes were filled with hurt.
"Because, you're going to be Hector's wife, Eden, and all of our fates are tied to that. I don't know what Elysium is going to be like. I don't know a lot of things." I put my hand in my hair and gripped a handful before bringing my hand down and continuing. "But what I do know is you're going to be his wife a year from today. You're going to belong to him. He'll never have it any other way." You'll never belong to me.
She pursed her lips and sat up and I stumbled back slightly. "Yes. I know. I count down the days. I count down the days of my freedom, which is a poor excuse for freedom, by the way. But it's better than what I'll have to endure against my will—forever!" She brought her shoulders back and straightened her spine. "It might be Elysium to all of you, but to me, it sounds like hell."
"Eden . . ." I said, but didn't know where to go from there. I ran my fingers through my hair again and stepped back as she pulled her dress straight and began gathering up her things.
"Please don't go."
Her eyes cast downward. "I think I should. I'm sorry. I've humiliated myself and said things I shouldn't have said and—"
"You can always be honest with me."
She finally lifted her head and looked at me. "I don't want to stop meeting you here. Or put an end to our . . . sessions. But, for today, I need to go." She smiled a small, trembling smile. "Tomorrow?"
I nodded my head. "Yes, tomorrow." I knew we were playing with fire before this, but now . . . it was even clearer it would be better for everyone involved if we put an end to our sessions right here and right now.
But try as I might, I couldn't bring myself to say those words. In fact, suddenly my desire to see her, to be near her was overwhelming. Her bravery stunned me, dazzled me. She had dared to dream beyond what someone else had ordained her destiny to be, beyond what even the gods had destined. And instead of that looking blasphemous or just plain stupid, something about it felt powerful, beautiful, brave.
Just like the bravery she had shown that day on the playing field.
As beautiful as a flower. As strong as a weed.
And something inside me felt like it had shifted, too, because I had dreams as well. In that moment, right there and then, I admitted to myself that I longed for more for my life and maybe those dreams were beautiful, too. Brave. I had always pushed that desire away, ashamed of it, thinking it sinful, selfish.
But maybe, just maybe, my own dreams weren't as sinful as I'd always thought them to be . . . somehow.
I watched her silently as she retreated. And somewhere deep down inside, somewhere where there were no rules and no limits, somewhere where only
the beating of my own heart could be heard, love took root.
"Morning Glory," I called as she began to duck through the rocks. She turned. I walked over to her and handed her the rolled up portrait. It wasn't completely finished, but close enough. "Happy birthday." I smiled. And then against my own better judgment, I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around her, leaned in, and kissed her forehead. The sweet smell of fresh apples clouded my brain and I moved away, just a little bit dazed. Eden blinked at me and breathed out, giving me a small smile back. And then she was gone, and my arms were empty.
**********
Later that evening, after I had delivered the next day's drinking water around to the cabins, I saw Xander making a pass around the perimeter of our land and jogged out to where he was. When I slowed to a walk and joined him, he startled slightly.
"Hey."
"Hey, I see you'd be pretty useful in an attack," I ribbed him.
He snorted. "Lost in my thoughts. You're right. You're all pretty much sitting ducks with me out here."
I eyed him sideways. "What's on your mind?"
He sighed and stopped walking. "Do you really want to know?"
I stopped, too, and frowned.
Xander looked down. "I have a lot of time to think out here walking around." He paused. "Probably too much time."
"Hey, spit it out, Xander." I glanced around to make sure no one was nearby. I wasn't even exactly sure why.
He paused again. "This thing with Eden—"
I furrowed my brow. "Don't try to talk me out of it, Xander. I know everything you're going to say and I—"
"You're wrong," he interrupted, "you don't know what I'm going to say. This does have to do with Eden in a roundabout way, but not how you're thinking." He ran a hand through his straight, black hair. "I've been considering this for a while, and I never said anything because, well, I've been trying to get past my own sinful thoughts . . . I guess. My head is all jumbled most of the time." He glanced around. "But I," he looked around quickly and then back at me, "question things, Calder. I question Hector." He looked pained.