Chosen for Song, Volume 1

by Delia Stewart

  "Funny. Who is Baz Allegash?" I asked.

  Vance looked around, as if not wanting to be overheard. "An emperor of some medieval kingdom. Maybe he was real, maybe not. Either way, he was a magnetic."

  "So who was his other half?"

  "A warrior called Hero."

  "Convenient name for a hero, I guess." I nodded, waiting for Vance to continue.

  "Right, so. Allegash wanted to rule, but Hero didn't agree with his methods. He wanted to protect the people from an invading force, but Allegash wanted to ally with the enemy--make a deal. The legend says he let the lure of power pull him too far to one side, and his magnetic half couldn't pull him back. Hero was the light, Allegash was the dark."

  "So what happened?"

  "They split. Hero was killed in the war that ensued, and Allegash went on to rule. But without his magnetic half, he didn't have any balance--and his darkness overwhelmed him and the kingdom. Eventually the entire kingdom was destroyed by massive earthquakes and tidal waves. A cataclysm brought on by imbalance so great it created a vacuum."

  "So everyone died. Uplifting, Vance."

  "Right, well, that's what I'm saying. It's a warning to magnetics. Stuff like whatever's going on with Alex ... I have to figure it out. He could be in trouble if I don't."

  I thought about that. I doubted that if Alex and Vance split there would be earthquakes and swarms of locusts descending on New York. But at the same time, it would shatter my own little world. "Let's go find him," I said, standing.

  Vance smiled at me, and before I had time to process what he was doing, he slid a hand around my jaw, pulling me close and looking down, his lips hovering near mine. Then he sighed softly and dropped his mouth to mine, kissing me gently at first, and then pulling me against him as his tongue teased the seam of my lips. I parted them, sensations rocketing through my body as his tongue touched mine. I opened my mouth to him, my own tongue seeking, searching, and my spine catching fire as my mind unspooled.

  I wanted ...

  Something ...

  And then it was over, and Vance stepped back, the smile never leaving his face as he put the back of one hand to the side of his mouth. "I've been wondering what that would be like," he said, almost laughing now.

  I was shaken, and needed a deep breath before I could pick up my backpack and head outside again.

  Kissing Vance was different than kissing Alex. When Alex's lips had touched mine, thunder had rumbled distant somewhere inside me as dark, compelling longing had sifted through me. Kissing Vance was like flying dangerously high, soaring until your insides turned upside down and you could barely breathe. One was grounding and intense, one was giddy and joyful. And I didn't know which I liked more.

  "Let's get you home," Vance said, taking my hand again.

  "Are you going to talk to Alex?" I asked, finally recovering my voice.

  "Definitely."

  Chapter Four

  Vance walked me back to my doorstep, and just as I said goodbye to him, I glanced across the street to see his door opening. I watched, hoping to see Alex emerge. Confusion and desire were mixing inside me and I needed to see him, needed to see my two magnetic halves together. I wasn't a part of their connection, but they somehow grounded me too, and it didn't feel right for them to be apart.

  Instead of Alex, though, the door across the street opened to reveal Dora. She shot a grin at Vance and me, and then turned at the bottom of the steps and disappeared quickly down the street.

  "What the actual ..." Vance said.

  A dark jealousy twined around my heart like a serpent, as my mind screamed at me that something was very, very wrong.

  "I need to go," Vance said. He squeezed my hand and waited until I'd opened my front door. Then I watched him bolt across the street and into his building. I hoped whatever was happening with Alex, that Vance could fix it.

  The house smelled like warm roasted food and home when I made my way inside, and the familiarity of it lifted a bit of the trouble my mind had wrapped itself around.

  "There you are," Mom said, smiling as I came into the connected living room and kitchen area. "How was school?"

  That question didn't have an easy answer anymore, unfortunately. "Fine," I said, hoping Mom would leave it at that.

  "Hey," my mother said, lifting the spatula she was holding in the air as she looked at me over her shoulder. "Isn't there a homecoming dance next week? Do we need to find you a dress?"

  "Carly's going to a dance?" Ethan asked from the bottom of the stairs. He'd just come down, an event that sounded a lot like a herd of elephants bursting into a room. "Which one of your boyfriends got suckered into that?"

  I glared at him and Mom raised an eyebrow, looking a little confused.

  "No one has asked," I said honestly. "But I might go with friends."

  Just then, my phone pinged with a text, and I lifted it to check.

  Vance: I forgot to ask. Will you go to homecoming with me?

  Me: Yes!

  Vance: Awesome.

  I pushed away the dark lump of disappointment and worry over Alex. I hadn't really expected to have two dates to the dance, had I?

  "Actually, that was Vance. He just asked me," I said.

  "Oh, honey, that's wonderful," Mom said. "So dress shopping tomorrow?"

  I didn't want to go dress shopping with my mom. It felt like something I might have done back in California, but for some reason here it seemed babyish. But Mom looked so excited. "Sure."

  Dad came through the door then, and soon he was telling my mother excitedly about some antiquities that had been unearthed in India that would be coming to the NYU collection for study, while he sat at the bar and had a drink as she finished cooking.

  "That's amazing, David." Mom was always supportive of my dad, and it was becoming harder for me to watch. Did she know he was lying? Did she have any idea who he even was? I understood why so many of the students at Celata lived alone and avoided deep connections outside the tunnels of the school. Lying wasn't good for relationships.

  "Did you and Dora have a nice chat?" Dad asked me, once we'd settled at the dinner table.

  I couldn't help the scowl that pushed my lips together. "Not really. She's not a nice person, Dad." I wanted to say a lot more, but there wasn't much I could tell him with Ethan and my mom right there.

  "Like I said before. She's new. Give her a chance, maybe." He gave me a pointed look. His Director look.

  "I'll try," I said, picturing Dora coming out of Alex's front door and knowing I didn't have a single try left in me.

  I tried to relax, to focus on dinner. My mom wasn't a great cook, but she tried, and it was nice to sit down as a family now and then. Ethan shoveled food into his mouth, and I watched him, trying not to stare. Was my little brother really a magnetic, like Vance and Alex said? Would he be joining me at Celata soon? I wondered what my dad thought about it. I wasn't sure how magnetic a guy who could stuff half a chicken breast into his mouth in one bite could actually be, and a little worry sparked in my gut as I thought about the story the boys had told about magnetics finding their other half. I didn't want anyone to beat up my brother. He was obnoxious, but he was also a pretty good guy, and I wasn't sure he could hold his own in a fight.

  Dinner finished up quietly, and I went to my room to think for the rest of the night, and to finish my homework for Tate.

  The next morning, Alex and Vance waited for me as usual, and I let Alex slide my bag from my shoulder and kiss me on the cheek as Vance took my hand.

  "Colton's coming to the dance with us, if that's cool," he told me. My eyes slid to Alex. Did he care that I wasn't going with him? Was he going at all?

  "Okay," I said. "Alex, aren't you going?"

  Alex shot a dark look at me, and it nearly stopped me in my tracks. He'd never been anything but protective of me, gentle. His angry glares had previously been reserved for other people. "To the stupid homecoming dance at some subpar topside high school full of spoiled little rich kids?"
The words were venomous, structured to stab and slice, and they hit their target dead on. I wrapped my free hand over my stomach in shock.

  "Dude," Vance said, his voice a low warning.

  "What?" Alex shot back. "Just because you're wrapped up in the details of pretending to be part of this ridiculous farce we're forced to play out doesn't mean I have to be. Can't you see how much more is going on?"

  "What are you even talking about?" Vance asked him.

  Alex stopped walking and handed me my backpack back. I looked up into his face, worried by the storms I saw raging in his eyes. "You know what? Forget it. I'm going to Celata. I'll see you later." He turned on his heel and walked away from us, his long strides full of strain and barely suppressed anger.

  "What's going on?" I asked Vance, worried and sick.

  "I don't know," he answered. "But something's definitely not right."

  When I got home that day, Mom was already home from work, waiting to take me to Bloomingdales to shop.

  "You ready?" She was practically bouncing on her toes. Her excitement made me realize we really hadn't spent much time together, just the two of us, since moving here. We'd both been wrapped up in the details of building new lives--work and the house for her, time travel and communing with ghosts for me.

  "This will be fun, Mom," I said, trying to sound cheery about it.

  We took the subway to 59th Street and walked to the East side, strolling and chatting. It was nice hearing about Mom's gallery, about some of the artists she'd been meeting. Mom's world was as unique and interesting as my father's in a different way. A bit less cloak and dagger, but still full of interesting personalities and cool events.

  Once we'd found the right section at Bloomies, Mom loaded up her arms with options and sent me into a dressing room, stationing herself just outside. I tried on what felt like thirty or forty options, all of them frilly and floral and not quite right. I emerged in one that was particularly awful, a bright peach color that didn't work at all with my complexion, and stepped out into the main shopping area to show Mom.

  "That's ..." she stood and put a finger to her lips, frowning.

  "Fairly awful," I confirmed. I looked over her shoulder as she fussed with the strap, and my eyes caught a dark head attached to a curvy figure as a girl looked at dresses just in front of where I stood. My stomach churned when the girl turned, and Dora was looking right at me.

  A second later, Carmella and Helen appeared at her side, and soon all three of them were moving toward where I stood in the most horrid dress I'd put on all day, my mother still fussing obliviously with the hem.

  "Isn't this adorable? Are you dress shopping with your mom?" Helen asked, her voice smooth and icy.

  Mom straightened and turned around. "Oh, hello girls. Do you go to Tate as well? Shopping for dresses?"

  Dora's eyes gleamed with amusement as Carmella put on her polite adult voice. "Yes ma'am, but we haven't found anything quite as ... adorable as Carly's peachy frilly dress there." Her eyes slid to mine and she winked at me. I felt my cheeks burning.

  "I don't think this is the one," I managed to say. "Just trying on a lot of options."

  "Who's taking you to the dance, Carly? Are you going with your girlfriends?" Helen asked, her perfect blond hair curling around her pretty face.

  "I'm going with Vance," I said. I didn't mention that I actually had two dates. Mom would be confused, and I didn't want to have the conversation in front of these girls.

  I was steeling myself for their next words when Alex appeared, stepping from between a couple racks a few feet away, holding a long slim black dress. "Dora, will this work?" he asked, and then his eyes caught me in my peachy horror. "Carly." My name was a whisper, and it made my heart hammer in my chest.

  "Hello Alex," Mom said. He'd been over enough times that Mom knew him well.

  "Mrs. Stone, how nice to see you," he said, his eyes flitting to mine and back to my mother's face.

  "Alex is taking me to the dance," Dora said, her voice like poisoned honey.

  "How nice," Mom said, but I got the sense that even she didn't think that was completely nice.

  "You look ..." Alex was looking at me, and I cringed at whatever words he might find to describe the awful dress.

  "This dress is horrible," I blurted, and turned to head back to the dressing room, leaving my mother to handle the mean girls and Alex. Inside the sanctity of the tiny stall, I brought a hand to my mouth to stifle a sob that wanted to climb from my throat. Embarrassment, shame, and jealousy were warring for centerstage in my mind, and I felt like I might be sick. I slumped onto the little stool in the corner and wrapped my arms around my stomach, trying to force myself to breathe, to calm down. Soon my mother came looking for me, and I told her I wasn't feeling well. I chose a simple purple sheath I'd tried on earlier, the shade deep and dark and not too flashy, and we went home.

  Later that night, Alex texted me.

  Alex: Can you talk?

  Me: Yeah.

  Alex: Meet me on the steps?

  Me: Okay.

  I slipped from my room and out the front door to find Alex already seated at the bottom of the steps, his shoulders slumped. He looked miserable as I sat down next to him.

  "Hi." I uttered my greeting and he turned his dark pain-filled eyes on me, something in them reaching for me, searching my face.

  "Hey," he said. "Thanks for coming out."

  I didn't answer. I was angry at him, worried about him, confused by the time he'd clearly been spending with Dora.

  "Listen, I wanted to apologize. About earlier."

  I sighed. I wanted an apology, but I didn't know exactly what for. "For taking Dora to the dance?" I tried.

  It was his turn to blow out a breath, and he swiveled himself so he faced me, his knees angling toward mine on the stone steps. "Yeah, I guess. For that, and for storming off earlier." He dropped my eyes, stared down at his hands in his lap. He looked so distraught and upset I wanted to pull him into me, but I wasn't sure I had that right anymore. Was he dating Dora? What did that mean for whatever we had? What did we have, anyway? "It's just like ... things are out of my control."

  "I don't get it."

  "Things I could usually handle are just happening, like I'm not doing anything, it's happening to me."

  I stared at him. "Things. Like asking Dora to the dance?"

  He squinted up at me. "Yeah, actually. I don't remember asking her. It just kind of happened. Like it just became that way, but I don't feel like I made the choice."

  "So she asked you?"

  "Carly, no. That's not what I'm saying. It's more like ... everything is out of my control right now, I'm just like ..." He shook his head, frustrated. "I can't even explain it. Like shopping. I was just there. I'd never hang out with those girls, but I did."

  "Alex. At some point someone said, 'hey Alex, we're going to Bloomingdales, want to go?' and you had to have said, 'sure.' See? That's how that works." Was he really this inept? Could he not even just manage an explanation?

  "But that's not what happened. I just went there. They stopped by the house, and Dora came in for a second, and then I was going with them."

  "Dora's controlling you," I suggested sarcastically.

  He dropped his head in his hands. "No. I mean, of course not."

  "Are you really taking her to the dance?" I asked. "You could just go with me and Vance and Colton."

  He met my eyes again, took my hand and held it. The warmth that flooded into my body was reassuring, but then he pulled his hand away again. "I'm taking Dora."

  "Why?" I asked.

  He shook his head, like he was trying to get something out of it, knock loose something that was stuck. "I can't explain."

  Disappointment swirled inside me. "I don't understand," I told him, getting to my feet. "But it's late and I'm tired. When you figure things out, let me know."

  "Carly," his voice was a plea, and I turned back around, the pain in his eyes in the low light from the st
reetlamp gutting me. "I'm sorry."

  "Me too." I sighed and went back inside, where I laid on my bed and cried, confusion and pain finally pushing me into a black sleep.

  Chapter Five

  After Alex's apology, which didn't feel like it explained much of anything but only served to confuse me more, I watched him drift farther into Dora's circle of influence.

  "Alex is his own person, he makes his own decisions," Vance said when I asked him about it.

  "But isn't there some pull you have on him? As his magnetic half?"

  We were walking through Riverside Park, going to meet Grace, Ann, and Colton before we all had to be at Celata for some kind of meeting that evening. Vance stopped walking and turned to face me, his eyes dull and glassy. "I would have said yes before, but there's something going on. Something I can't fix."

  I took his hand, wishing I could comfort him somehow, wishing I could rewind to the last time Alex, Vance, and I felt normal--whatever normal was for us.

  Vance's face grew hard then as he looked down at me, and his mouth formed a firm line just before he spoke. "Something's wrong," he said. "That's all I know. Something's wrong and I need to figure out what it is."

  "We will," I promised, having no real idea what could be wrong. My experience in the world Vance and Alex inhabited was so limited, I wasn't sure how I could help, but everything inside me wanted to.

  We walked a bit more in silence, finally coming to the grassy area flanked by stone benches where the others were waiting, enjoying the fading rays of the sun over the Hudson River.

  "Where's Alex?" Ann asked, glancing behind us as if he might pop up at any moment.

  "Not here," Vance said, his voice dark.

  Grace nodded, as if she understood something that hadn't even been said, and Vance and I sat down next to her.

  "You guys ready for Friday?" I asked Ann and Grace. They were going through with their plan to attend the dance together, and while Colton and Vance were taking me, it was really more like we were all going as a group. A group that was incomplete without Alex.