by Wendi Wilson
A pair of translucent wings, the color of the leaves on the trees surrounding the school, fluttered against Shaela’s back. She turned to face me, but I could still see the upper curves of the appendages peeking over her shoulders.
“What?” she asked, propping her hands on her hips. When I didn’t respond, she added, “What’s wrong?”
I shook my head, the motion fast and furious as tears leaked from my eyes. Shaela stepped in my direction and I sat up, pushing myself into the corner where the mattress met the wall.
“December,” she said, her voice calm and her palms out as she slowly moved toward me, “it’s just me. Shaela. Your roommate.”
She was talking to me like I was an idiot. Like I didn’t know who she was. But I wasn’t mad. No, she had every right to question my sense, because I was acting like I didn’t have any.
But I couldn’t help it. Every step she took in my direction brought those strange green wings closer to me.
She sat on the edge of the mattress, her hands folded in her lap and looked straight into my eyes. I focused on her green irises, hoping that, if I was having a hallucination, it would end before I let my gaze stray to her back.
“Tell me what’s wrong. Maybe I can help.”
I took a few deep breaths and came to a decision. I knew what I had to do. I needed to know.
I leaned away from my corner and held out my hand, palm up, to Shaela. Ever so trusting, she placed her palm in mine, squeezing my hand with a reassuring expression on her face.
“Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out,” she said.
“You’re right. I’m sorry.”
Before she could respond, I jerked her toward me. With my free hand, I reached over her shoulder and brushed my fingertips across the top of one wing. Shaela squealed and pulled out of my grasp, those leaf greens wings pumping to pull her across the room in an instant.
“They’re real,” I breathed. “Oh my God. They’re real.”
“December, please let me explain.”
“I need to go,” I said, ignoring her plea in my panicked state.
I leapt from the bed and swung the door open before dashing through it and down the hall. I didn’t even know where I was going. I just knew I needed to get out of there. Away from Shaela. Away from the realization that nothing was as it seemed at Oberon Academy.
I turned a corner and skidded to a halt, barely stopping before plowing right into Rowan Dobbs. He stared at me with his kind eyes, his lips turned up into a sad smile. He crooked out an elbow and, despite my previous haste to escape, I tucked my hand into it and let him lead me straight to his office.
My eyes skittered to the side, checking his back. I released a sigh. There was no sign of wings. No lumps under his clothes where they could be hiding. I slumped into the chair he offered as he made his way behind his desk.
“I put them away. I thought it might make you more comfortable.”
“What?” I asked, unsure what he was talking about.
“My wings,” he clarified. “I put them away.”
And just like that, the calm that had settled over me shattered. I started to stand, intent on running, but Rowan’s voice stopped me.
“Sit down, December.”
My legs crumbled beneath me, my butt hitting the chair. Rowan had never been anything but kind and gentle with me, so his harsh tone shocked me.
“I’m sorry, dear. I don’t want to seem intimidating or demanding, but we need to talk about what happened today.”
I swallowed against the lump in my throat and nodded, not trusting myself to speak. I’d let him talk, then I was out of there.
“Your altercation with Ms. Avery was most unfortunate,” he said, folding his hands on the desk in front of him.
What? Why the hell was he talking about Tiana? I just found out that everyone around me had wings. Who cares about a freaking mean girl trying to bully me?
“It was your clash with her that caused the Glamour to begin to crumble,” he explained. “When you hit your head in gym, it collapsed completely.”
“Glamour?” I asked, speaking for the first time.
“Yes, Glamour,” he said. “Because you were yet unaware of our true nature, I cast a Glamour over the entire school and all of its inhabitants. I knew you needed them to appear human in order to give this place a real chance.”
“So everyone here is a…”
“Sylphid,” he supplied when my words trailed off. “Yes, we are all Sylphids at Oberon Academy.”
“Why am I here?” I asked, needing to know, though I was dreading the answer.
“Because, my dear December, you are like us,” he said, his face pinching with empathy. “You possess the blood of the Fae.”
Chapter 16
16
Nope. Nope. Nope and double nope. Rowan was crazy and I was not going to go down that rabbit hole with him.
After the big reveal, as I’d come to think of it, a calm fell over me. I’d stood, asked Rowan to arrange a ride for me, and went to my room to pack. I changed into my old clothes and grabbed my ratty backpack which still held the rest of my meager wardrobe and the baby blanket.
Thankfully, Shaela was gone. She must’ve went on to dinner without me. Even though I was confused and hurt by her deception, I knew I’d have a hard time saying goodbye to my first friend.
Celeste Greenly knocked on the door a few minutes later, saying she was my ride. She was as kind as ever, and didn’t ask any questions.
We were half way back to the city when I decided to speak for the first time.
“Did you know?”
“Did I know what, dear?”
I clenched my back teeth. She knew what I was talking about, but she was going to make me say it.
“Did you know that Oberon Academy is full of faeries and Rowan thinks I’m one of them?”
She was silent for a beat. Her mouth twisted up as she chose her words. When she finally spoke, she kept her eyes on the road.
“Of course, I know they’re all Sylphids, December. Not only am I an employee of the academy, I also attended classes there.”
“You’re one of them?” I asked, my eyes wide.
“Yes,” she responded with a nod.
“But…you don’t have any wings.”
Her tinkling laughter echoed through the interior of the car. “Yes, I do. I have them hidden for your comfort, on Rowan’s advice.”
I bit the inside of my cheek as I mulled that over. So, Celeste was a faery recruiter for a faery school full of faery students and faery teachers.
“Then, why did you recruit me?” I asked. “I’m obviously not a Sylphid. I don’t have wings. I don’t have magic.”
Her eyes darted from the road to me and back again. She didn’t answer my question and it looked like she wasn’t going to. Frustration rose up inside me, making my palms itch.
“I don’t fit in there,” I said. “All those beautiful people with wings and magic and—wait. Do all Sylphids have blonde hair?”
She nodded, but didn’t speak.
“Well, there you have it.” I jabbed my thumb into my chest. “Not a Sylphid.”
“You do have magic, December. And as for the dark hair, well, that’s because you’re only half-Fae.”
“I don’t have any magic, Celeste. That’s just…crazy,” I said, ignoring the half-Fae comment for the moment.
“Do you remember the day we met?” she asked, her voice gentle.
“Of course,” I said.
“Do you remember why you thought you’d been called to the principal’s office?”
I gasped, the vision of Lauren Blackburn wailing as clumps of her hair fell out in front of her very eyes. Only in her eyes. It wasn’t actually happening, but somehow, she was convinced that it was. Right after I’d wished it on her.
“I see that you do,” Celeste says. “Albeit unintentionally, you used your Glamour to make that awful girl think all of her hair fell out.”
“No,” I said.
“That was just a coincidence. She was probably high on Lox or something.”
Celeste shook her head. “And what about what happened with Tiana in the dining hall?”
“I don’t know what you mean,” I said, my fingers clinging desperately to my delusion of normalcy.
“December!” Celeste exclaimed, her kind voice raising in volume for the first time. “I know you know what I’m talking about. I saw the security footage.”
“There are cameras in there?” I asked.
Anything to change the subject. I didn’t want to hear any more.
Not a faery. Not a faery. Not a faery, I chanted over and over in my head.
“Yes, there are cameras throughout the common areas of the school for security reasons.”
“But why would Oberon Academy need such tight security?”
“We’re a school of hidden magical beings, December. Of course, we need certain security measures. But no more changing the subject. I know you felt the flash of power that rushed out of you and into Tiana, sending her sprawling.” She paused for a moment, a grin full of satisfaction curving her lips before she cleared her throat and continued, “I know you saw the wind. Wind that you didn’t feel, because it was coming from you.”
“No,” I said, choosing to remain in denial, though I knew, deep down, that she was right. “I didn’t feel or see anything.”
“December—”
“No!” I shouted, cutting her off. The steam rolled out of me and I felt bad, so I said, “I’m sorry, Celeste. I don’t mean to be rude, but I won’t accept this. I can’t.”
“I understand, dear. I think, with time, you’ll come around. And you can take all the time you need.”
I didn’t respond to that. Celeste had been nothing but kind to me since the day I met her. She rescued me from the Holts, from public school and a life of destitution.
And when asked to take me right back to all that, she’d done it without complaint.
“Wait,” I said, thinking of Gretchen and Todd, “did you, ah, do something to the Holts to get them to agree to let me go?”
She frowned, and I thought she wouldn’t answer me.
“Yes,” she said, her voice filled with anger. “Those people are truly awful and never should have been given custody of you to begin with. I used telepathy to manipulate them mentally, making them think it was their idea to let you go, and that they’d be better off without you.”
“Wow,” I said. “That’s impressive.”
“It’s ridiculous that I’m taking you back there.”
“Celeste, please.”
“I know. I know,” she said, her voice tinged with a note of resignation. “This is what you want.”
Right on cue, she pulled to the side of the road with those words. Todd and Gretchen must’ve had every light in the house on, because the entire place glowed from within. I grunted. If I ever left a light on like that, I’d be in serious trouble with both of them.
I opened the car door, and the sounds of screaming voices echoed through me. They were fighting again, and it sounded like one of the bad ones. I took a deep breath and turned to Celeste, attempting a smile. The look on her face told me she wasn’t falling for it.
“I can take you somewhere else,” she offered.
I shook my head and climbed from the car. I wished I had somewhere, anywhere else I could have asked her to take me. But I didn’t. Leaning back in to grab my backpack, I gazed into her eyes and spoke from the heart. It would be my last chance to really thank her for her kindness and support.
“Celeste, thank you so much, for everything. No one has ever been as supportive and as kind to me as you have. You took a chance on me and changed my life, and I’m so sorry I didn’t turn out to be what you expected.”
“But December, you are. You are everything I’d hoped and so much more. You just don’t see it, yet.”
I pressed my lips together into a tight smile, gave her a nod and closed the car door. I turned to face the house and fear consumed me. I couldn’t believe I was being so stupid. Why would I willingly go back to that house?
Gathering my resolve, I started to walk across the dirt yard. I heard Celeste’s car pull away, and I had to fight myself not to turn and run after her. I had made the choice, and I had to live with it.
“You, stupid bitch!”
I jumped at the shout, thinking Todd had spotted me, but he was still inside and wasn’t peering out of any of the open windows. He must’ve been talking to Gretchen.
“Don’t call me that, asshole!” she shouted.
“If it looks like a bitch, and talks like a bitch…”
“Shut up, Todd. I don’t have to take this shit from you.”
“You’re my wife. You have to take everything I give you,” he said, and the suggestion in his voice made my skin crawl. “And you have to like it.”
“No, I don’t!” she shouted.
“Oh, yes you do,” he said. “And all I have to do is pretend. Pretend you’re not so bitchy. Or so ugly. I just pretend you’re a hot little thing like my December baby and I actually enjoy it. That’s the only way it’s any good.”
Gretchen started yelling something, but I couldn’t hear it over the blood rushing through my ears. I whirled around and ran. It was dark and I had no idea where I was going, but I knew there was no way I could go into that house.
I had no idea why I ever thought I could in the first place. It was a stupid, idiotic plan.
My feet moved with a mind of their own, taking me straight to Sycamore High and my not-so-secret-anymore hideout. I could spend the rest of the night there, then figure what to do and where to go in the morning. Not much of a plan, but it was all I had.
I was sprinting by the time I reached the school property. I vaguely recognized that I’d never moved so fast in my life, and I barely felt winded, but I pushed the errant thought to the back of my mind. It was my imagination spurred on by Celeste and Rowan’s delusions of me being a faery.
Or, more specifically, half-faery.
I pushed open the shed’s door and slipped through the crack, quickly closing it behind me. Breathing a sigh of relief, I closed my eyes and willed the tension to drain from my body. I was going to be okay. I was pretty resourceful, and I’d figure it all out.
A masculine chuckle rang out behind me, making my eyes fly open. I spun around, realizing for the first time that light was flickering inside the space. One of the candles that I’d left on the makeshift table had been lit. My eyes strained to search the dark corners of the shed, and movement drew them to the carpet roll.
Only, it wasn’t rolled up any longer. It was spread across the dirt and the lump atop it was a person. A very large person.
“What do we have here?” a deep voice called out as he rolled into a sitting position. “What’s a pretty thing like you doing in my shed in the middle of the night? Come to pay old Ernest a visit?”
His shed? It was my shed. Had been for months.
He climbed to his feet and my fear ratcheted up a few more notches. He was tall, much taller than me, and so wide around, he probably weighed more than three hundred pounds.
How did someone even get that big in a world where there’s very little food?
I shook off the errant thought as he lumbered toward me. I had to get out of there. I could feel the dark intentions rolling off of him. He wanted to hurt me.
“Oh, you’re a purdy one, ain’t ya?”
His words shocked me out of my frozen state and I whirled, pulling on the shed door. A beefy arm shot over my shoulder, a hand holding the door closed, while another arm circled around my waist. A scream ripped its way up my throat as I tore at his flesh with my fingernails in an attempt to free myself.
“Oh, a fighter,” he purred into my ear, rubbing himself against my back in a disgusting manner. “I like it, baby. Don’t stop.”
I froze and silent tears tracked down my face. The man chuckled again and his hand released the door. He moved it to my
body, groping me in places I’d never been touched. I was disgusted by his lecherous pawing and attempted to push his hand away from my body.
But he was too strong.
As he continued to rub his fingers across my peaks and valleys, my frightened tears transformed into ones of anger. What was it with the men of the world? What made them think they could just take whatever they wanted, regardless of what I want? Was I some kind of pushover? Did I have a sign that read, “Abuse Me” on my forehead?
No.
“No!” I screamed, my anger exploding out of me in a rush of power.
The man’s roaming hands disappeared as if ripped from me with a shout of fear. He must have scratched his fingernails across my back, because there was a stinging along my spine. Ignoring the pain, I twirled around to face him, my heart pounding and my hands fisted and my breath beating in and out in a staccato rhythm. Wind swirled through the small space and the candle sputtered out, leaving the two of us in darkness.
I needed light. I needed to see his disgusting face and him to see mine when I reviled him for the disgusting sack of shit that he was. I wanted to see his pain when I kicked him in the balls.
A small glow flickered in front of me, a tiny orb the size of a marble floating in the air. As I watched, it grew in size, getting bigger and bigger until the entire shed was lit up. I stared at it in awe, wondering what it was and where it came from.
Movement caught my eye and I turned my gaze to the man. He was sliding on his back across the carpet that served as his bed, the wind still whipping through his greasy hair. His eyes rolled around in fear as whimpers of that same emotion bled from his mouth.
“What are you?” I saw his focus move from my face to a spot over my shoulder.
I whirled to see who was behind me, but there was no one there. And the shed door was still firmly closed. The man’s crying grew louder and I twirled back to face him.
I caught a fluttering in my peripheral vision and turned again, still seeing nothing. But I felt something. A slight tug along my spine where the stinging had been.