Beautiful Creatures
Page 125
Sixteenth Moon, Sixteenth Year,
Now has come the day you fear,
Claim or be Claimed,
Shed blood, shed tear,
Moon or Sun—destroy, revere.
The guitar died out, and now we were standing in silence.
“What do you think—”
She put her hand on my lips. She couldn’t bear to talk about it. She was as raw as I had ever seen her. A cold breeze was blowing past her, surrounding her, and exhaling out through the open door behind me. I didn’t know if her cheeks were red from the cold or from her tears, and I didn’t ask. We fell onto her bed and curled into one ball, until it would have been hard to sort out whose limbs were whose. We weren’t kissing, but it was like we were. We were closer than I’d ever realized two people could be.
I guess this was what it felt like to love someone, and feel like you had lost them. Even when you were still holding them in your arms.
Lena was shivering. I could feel every rib, every bone in her body, and her movements seemed involuntary. I untangled my arm from around her neck and twisted so I could grab the pieced quilt from the foot of her bed and pull it up over us. She burrowed into my chest and I pulled the quilt higher. Now it was over our heads, and we were in a dark little cave together, the two of us.
The cave became warm with our breath. I kissed her cold mouth and she kissed me back. The current between us intensified and she nuzzled her way into the hollow of my neck.
Do you think we can stay like this forever, Ethan?
We can do whatever you want. It’s your birthday.
I felt her stiffen in my arms.
Don’t remind me.
But I brought you a present.
She held up the cover, to let just a crack of light in. “You did? I told you not to.”
“Since when did I ever listen to anything you say? Besides, Link says if a girl says not to get her a birthday present that means get me a birthday present and make sure it’s jewelry.”
“That’s not true of all girls.”
“Okay. Forget it.”
She let the quilt drop, then snuggled back into my arms.
Is it?
What?
Jewelry.
I thought you didn’t want a present?
Just curious.
I smiled to myself and pulled down the quilt. The cold air hit us both at the same time, and I quickly pulled a small box out of my jeans and dove back under the covers. I lifted the quilt up so she could see the box.
“Put it down, it’s too cold.”
I let it fall, and we were surrounded by darkness again. The box began to glow with green light, and I could make out Lena’s slender fingertips as she pulled off the silver ribbon. The glow spread, warm and bright, until her face was softly lit across from mine.
“That’s a new one.” I smiled at her in the green light.
“I know. It’s been happening ever since I woke up this morning. Whatever I think, just sort of happens.”
“Not bad.”
She stared at the box wistfully, as if she was waiting as long as she could to open it. It occurred to me that this was possibly the only present Lena would get today. Aside from the surprise party I was holding off telling her about until the last minute.
Surprise party?
Whoops.
You’d better be joking.
Tell that to Ridley and Link.
Yeah? The surprise is, there isn’t going to be a party.
Just open the box.
She glared at me and opened the box, and more light came pouring out, even though the gift had nothing to do with that. Her face softened and I knew I was off the hook about the party. It was that thing, about girls and jewelry. Who knew? Link was right after all.
She held up a necklace, delicate and shining, with a ring hanging from the chain. It was a carved gold circle, three strands of gold—sort of rose colored, and yellow, and white—all braided into a wreath.
Ethan! I love it.
She kissed me about a hundred times, and I started talking, even while she was kissing me. Because I felt like I had to tell her, before she put it on, before something happened. “It belonged to my mom. I got it out of her old jewelry box.”
“Are you sure about this?” she asked.
I nodded. I couldn’t pretend like it wasn’t a big deal. Lena knew how I felt about my mom. It was a big deal, and I felt relieved that we both could admit it. “It’s not rare or anything, like a diamond or whatever, but it’s valuable to me. I think she’d be okay with me giving it to you because, you know.”
What?
Ah.
“You’re gonna make me spell it out?” My voice sounded weird, all shaky.
“I hate to break it to you, but you’re not that great at spelling.” She knew I was squirming, but she was going to make me say it. I preferred our silent mode of communication. It made talking, real talking, a lot easier for a guy like me. I brushed her hair off of the back of her neck, and attached the necklace at the clasp. It hung around her neck, sparkling in the light, right above the one she never took off. “Because you’re really special to me.”
How special?
I think you’re wearing the answer around your neck.
I’m wearing a lot of things around my neck.
I touched her charm necklace. It all looked like junk, and most of it was—the most important junk in the world. And now it had become my junk, too. A flattened penny with a hole in it, from one of those machines at the food court across from the movie theater, where we had gone on our first date. A piece of yarn from the red sweater she had worn to go parking at the water tower, which had become an inside joke between us. The silver button I had given her for luck at the disciplinary meeting. My mom’s little paper-clip star.
Now has come the day you fear,
Claim or be Claimed,
Shed blood, shed tear,
Moon or Sun—destroy, revere.
The guitar died out, and now we were standing in silence.
“What do you think—”
She put her hand on my lips. She couldn’t bear to talk about it. She was as raw as I had ever seen her. A cold breeze was blowing past her, surrounding her, and exhaling out through the open door behind me. I didn’t know if her cheeks were red from the cold or from her tears, and I didn’t ask. We fell onto her bed and curled into one ball, until it would have been hard to sort out whose limbs were whose. We weren’t kissing, but it was like we were. We were closer than I’d ever realized two people could be.
I guess this was what it felt like to love someone, and feel like you had lost them. Even when you were still holding them in your arms.
Lena was shivering. I could feel every rib, every bone in her body, and her movements seemed involuntary. I untangled my arm from around her neck and twisted so I could grab the pieced quilt from the foot of her bed and pull it up over us. She burrowed into my chest and I pulled the quilt higher. Now it was over our heads, and we were in a dark little cave together, the two of us.
The cave became warm with our breath. I kissed her cold mouth and she kissed me back. The current between us intensified and she nuzzled her way into the hollow of my neck.
Do you think we can stay like this forever, Ethan?
We can do whatever you want. It’s your birthday.
I felt her stiffen in my arms.
Don’t remind me.
But I brought you a present.
She held up the cover, to let just a crack of light in. “You did? I told you not to.”
“Since when did I ever listen to anything you say? Besides, Link says if a girl says not to get her a birthday present that means get me a birthday present and make sure it’s jewelry.”
“That’s not true of all girls.”
“Okay. Forget it.”
She let the quilt drop, then snuggled back into my arms.
Is it?
What?
Jewelry.
I thought you didn’t want a present?
Just curious.
I smiled to myself and pulled down the quilt. The cold air hit us both at the same time, and I quickly pulled a small box out of my jeans and dove back under the covers. I lifted the quilt up so she could see the box.
“Put it down, it’s too cold.”
I let it fall, and we were surrounded by darkness again. The box began to glow with green light, and I could make out Lena’s slender fingertips as she pulled off the silver ribbon. The glow spread, warm and bright, until her face was softly lit across from mine.
“That’s a new one.” I smiled at her in the green light.
“I know. It’s been happening ever since I woke up this morning. Whatever I think, just sort of happens.”
“Not bad.”
She stared at the box wistfully, as if she was waiting as long as she could to open it. It occurred to me that this was possibly the only present Lena would get today. Aside from the surprise party I was holding off telling her about until the last minute.
Surprise party?
Whoops.
You’d better be joking.
Tell that to Ridley and Link.
Yeah? The surprise is, there isn’t going to be a party.
Just open the box.
She glared at me and opened the box, and more light came pouring out, even though the gift had nothing to do with that. Her face softened and I knew I was off the hook about the party. It was that thing, about girls and jewelry. Who knew? Link was right after all.
She held up a necklace, delicate and shining, with a ring hanging from the chain. It was a carved gold circle, three strands of gold—sort of rose colored, and yellow, and white—all braided into a wreath.
Ethan! I love it.
She kissed me about a hundred times, and I started talking, even while she was kissing me. Because I felt like I had to tell her, before she put it on, before something happened. “It belonged to my mom. I got it out of her old jewelry box.”
“Are you sure about this?” she asked.
I nodded. I couldn’t pretend like it wasn’t a big deal. Lena knew how I felt about my mom. It was a big deal, and I felt relieved that we both could admit it. “It’s not rare or anything, like a diamond or whatever, but it’s valuable to me. I think she’d be okay with me giving it to you because, you know.”
What?
Ah.
“You’re gonna make me spell it out?” My voice sounded weird, all shaky.
“I hate to break it to you, but you’re not that great at spelling.” She knew I was squirming, but she was going to make me say it. I preferred our silent mode of communication. It made talking, real talking, a lot easier for a guy like me. I brushed her hair off of the back of her neck, and attached the necklace at the clasp. It hung around her neck, sparkling in the light, right above the one she never took off. “Because you’re really special to me.”
How special?
I think you’re wearing the answer around your neck.
I’m wearing a lot of things around my neck.
I touched her charm necklace. It all looked like junk, and most of it was—the most important junk in the world. And now it had become my junk, too. A flattened penny with a hole in it, from one of those machines at the food court across from the movie theater, where we had gone on our first date. A piece of yarn from the red sweater she had worn to go parking at the water tower, which had become an inside joke between us. The silver button I had given her for luck at the disciplinary meeting. My mom’s little paper-clip star.
