Damselfly (20 page)

Row scoots closer and leans over me. Then, looking straight into my eyes, he raises my hand to his lips and kisses it.

A shock travels through me, and suddenly the world seems to have more color. I
see
Row for the first time. His ever-ready smile is still there in his eyes, but it’s mixed with hunger now. I’ve never noticed before how perfectly his neck is shaped, how its muscles intertwine with those of his shoulders and his chest. The candlelight flickers off of his finely sculpted features, turning into flakes of fire in his eyes. And his lips. I can’t take my eyes off of his lips. Even as they slowly sink ever closer to my own and I worry about when I should breathe—as if I could—and how I taste. But I close my eyes as his face draws so near that all the world is Row and nothing else.

His lips only graze my own, soft as a feather, and I groan as my mouth parts to ask for more. But he’s pulling away from me, his eyes startled like he did something wrong. I reach out with my other hand and wrap it around his neck to gently coax him back.
Oh, don’t stop now. I’m all on fire. Help me block everything out.

“I’m sorry,” he says, sitting up. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

I let go of him and press my lips together. He drops my hand and stands.

“I should get you back to your room.”

“What the heck just happened?”

“I’m sorry—I’m not…” His face contorts in misery. “I’ll escort you.”

“Don’t bother.” I hop up and fly off by myself.

“Lina!” he calls after me. But I don’t turn around, and he doesn’t chase me.

Chapter 24

My date with Al is an exercise in misery. We’re taken to Diamond Head’s peak by helicopter and spend an awkward several hours attempting to get a conversation flowing. I can’t stop thinking about how much the scenery reminds me of Jack, even though the real-life version trumps the construct any day. And that thought rips open the scab that’s been slowly covering the wounds from last night with Row.

I couldn’t sleep after our barely-there kiss. I can’t figure out why he would act that way. Did he feel guilty because he thought Daphne would be watching? Or because I’d just been confessing how much I still care for Jack? And here I was thinking I was finally moving forward in some fashion.

The director shouts “It’s a wrap!” and I give Al an awkward hug.

“Thanks for coming,” he says, as if I had a choice.

“You too! See you later.”

The grips and assistants wrestle with their gear, forcing it into hard plastic cases. One pulls a diffuser away from a light, and I blink hard in the suddenly overpowering whiteness.

But when I open my eyes, I see it: a lonely tablet on top of the director’s chair.

I glance around, but everyone is too busy with their individual tasks. The assistant assigned to supervise me is stuffing her face at the craft services table. It’s now or never.

With shaking hands, I tap the screen. The screensaver blinks off, and there’s no login required. It’s my lucky day. About time.

I type and tap my way to the Internet and search for “Christiansen.” I furtively check again to see if anyone is watching me, then look at the results.

Hundreds of articles pop up with crazy headlines: “Quack scientist called to account for dead Thumbelinas,” and “Tiny new television star the only survivor?” I tap on the first entry and skim it until I come to:

Dr. Julia Christiansen is expected to appear before a judge in December. A prosecutor will determine what charges she will receive at that time. A panel of scientists is convening to determine whether or not the Thumbelinas can be classified as humans so Christiansen can be charged with manslaughter. If not, she may get off with an animal cruelty charge, which carries a maximum sentence of two years in prison and a fine of 20 grams of gold. No evidence against Dr. Christiansen has been released to the public at this time.

So that’s it. I scan the rest of the article, looking for information I don’t already know, but the only thing I find is that Dr. Christiansen was turned in by an unnamed source and the Lilliput Project never revealed how many Thumbelinas were born. They didn’t even announce my birth until I was six months old. So the other girls must have died between birth and six months.

It’s enough for now. I click off of the news article and join my assistant, who has salad dressing dribbling down her chin.

“Ah waf wooking awww ovuh for you,” she says through a mouth full of salad.

“Well, here I am. Can we go now?”

She swallows. “Sure, but let me finish. You don’t want any?”

“No, I’ll get room service later.”

“They have tiny cupcakes.”

“Really?”

She points at a giant cupcake tree on the dessert table. The topmost tier is lined with mini versions of my Achilles’ heel—the chocolate cupcake.

I excuse myself and launch over to the tower of sugar. There are several different kinds of icing on them—mint, cherry, strawberry, and peach. I pick a strawberry one and pull away the foil wrapper on the bottom.

“Hey, Lina.”

It’s Row, and he’s looking apologetic and awkward.

“How did you get here?”

“We all came along,” he says. “We had to stay in the trailer while you were shooting. Look, I’m sorry.”

I don’t even know what to say.

“I’m really sorry. I felt bad after…everything we had talked about.”

“What does that even mean? You’ve been telling me over and over again to ‘make the best of it, Lina, blah blah blah.’ Then I go ahead and follow your advice and suddenly you’re freaking out and apologizing. What were you sorry for—that you stopped kissing me or that you ever started in the first place?”

“Kind of both?”

I cross my arms and glare at him. “Well, that’s real helpful.”

“Listen,” he says, an odd mix of dejection and panic in his downcast expression, “it was a reaction. I don’t know exactly where it came from. It was kind of an intense moment there, and I was having a really hard time thinking clearly.” A bashful smile chases away the gloom. “You have that effect on me.”

I keep my arms folded, but I’m melting on the inside.

“Give me another chance?”

I chew on the inside of my lip. I’m not sure how “another chance” will look, but I don’t have it in me to hold a grudge against him for this. All of the cameras, all of the photos, the constant primping and virtual imprisonment—it’s taken a toll on us all. I can’t blame him for feeling confused. “Confused” has been my middle name since this all began.

“Okay,” I say, even though a thread of doubt winds around my heart.

A sunbeam smile bursts from his face. “Thanks.” He sweeps me into a hug, and electricity zigzags through me again, leaving me breathless. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

A flush creeps to my hairline. I’m not sure I’m ready for him to make anything up, but I nod anyway.

“Well, aren’t you cute,” says a derisive voice.

Row lets go of me, and I turn to see Shrike wearing his disgust on his face.

“Hi, Shrike,” I say.

“I guess you’ve already made your choice.”

“Shrike, it’s not like that.”

“Sure it’s not.” He nods curtly. “I get it. I’ll leave you two alone.”

I make a loud raspberry noise and drop my head into my hands.

“Is he your next date?” Row asks.

“Yep.”

“Sorry.”

Me too.

Chapter 25

“So, I figured I would take you some place a little less exotic this time,” Jack said after I’d booted up my halojector. “And all you need for this one is your monitor and camera.”

I switched off the halojector, puzzled. “Where are we going?”

He grinned into the two-way camera as he tugged it off its stand. “How would you like to meet my family and see where I live?”

“Oh! Wow. Sure!” I ran my fingers through my hair and smoothed it down, and then I knotted my hands together in my lap. I hadn’t seen this one coming.

“Awesome. I’ll try not to jiggle this around too much.” Then he dropped the camera. “Oops, sorry about that. Hope you don’t get motion sickness.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“Okay, here’s my room. You’ve probably seen my wall already since it’s behind my computer chair, but here’s the rest.” He panned the camera around, and what I saw sobered me. A twin bed with a sagging mattress sat against the wall. The sheets and blanket were clean but fraying around the edges. The floor was water-stained, bare plywood. He panned to the ceiling. “That’s my leak. It lets me be one with nature all the time!”

There was a small bookcase crammed full of shabby paperbacks. A broken dresser stood in the corner, one of its drawers hanging out halfway.

Jack walked over to the bed. I could hear him breathing. “And this is where my little brother Matt sleeps.” He pulled out a trundle from underneath his own bed. It was neatly made with faded cartoon sheets.

“It’s not much, but it’s pretty comfortable. Matt likes to play outside when he’s not in school, so it feels like it’s my own room most of the time.” He turned the camera around so I could see his face again. His brown eyes were full of joy. “And if he’s in here when I’m talking to you, I can kick him out since I’m the boss!”

“It’s lovely, Jack,” I said with a smile. “It’s very homey.”

Behind him, the door swung open, and Matt burst inside.

“Raaaaaawrrr!” he shouted as he ran full-speed to Jack and disappeared from my view. The sudden lurch in the camera told me Matt had made contact.

“What’s up, buddy?”

“Can you come and play with me?”

“I will in a minute. How about you say hi to my friend first? Here, can you see her?” Jack knelt down, and Matt peered into the camera. He was only about six or seven years old, and he looked like a younger, smaller version of his older brother.

“What’s her name?”

“Lina. Go ahead and introduce yourself.”

“Hi, Lina. I’m Matt! When are you coming over?”

“Not for a while, Matt. I live a long way away. But it’s nice to meet you!”

“Why can’t she come over?”

“Because she lives across the ocean.”

“Oh.”

Jack’s face again. “And that’s Matt! There he goes.” The door slammed behind the tiny black-haired whirlwind as he ran out to play. “Ready for the rest of the family?”

“Um, yep! Bring it on.”

He opened the door into a living room crammed with tattered old furniture. A gleaming cherry wood coffee table stood out as the only nice piece in the room. The floor was unfinished particle board with several rugs thrown down here and there.

Next to the living room was the dinette and kitchen. A small table that would only comfortably seat three people at most sat against the wall. A chubby girl with ill-fitting clothes and carefully curled hair sat coloring a map.

“Say hi, Kendall.”

She set down her marker, tossed her head, and glared at him. She was about twelve years old and full of attitude.

“I’m not a baby, Jack.”

“I didn’t say you were. I want you to say hello to a friend of mine.”

“Are you recording?”

“Yep. She’s watching right now.”

“Seriously?”

“How many times do I have to say it?”

And with that, she cowed a little. Her confidence receded when she realized she was being watched by an unfamiliar face.

“Who is it?”

He walked closer, held the camera so she could see who I was. I waved and smiled.

“Hi Kendall, I’m Lina! Nice to meet you.”

“Hi.”

“Lina lives in Denmark. That’s in Europe.”

“I know where it is. I know where all the states are in Europe.”

“That’s because you study hard.” And to me, he said, “She really likes geography. She’s always color-coding different maps.”

“I don’t color-code them,” she said and rolled her eyes dramatically.

“Anyway, moving on! This is Mom.”

I’d expected a short, heavy-set woman. What I saw was a lithe creature with beautiful, haunted eyes. She kept her hair in a single, long braid, and if I didn’t know better, I would have thought she was Jack’s older sister.

She flipped a pancake and waved at the camera. “Hello, friend of Jack’s.”

He stepped closer and she peered at me.

“She’s very pretty,” she said. “You’re welcome any time, Lina. I can tell you make him happy.” And then she smiled her faraway smile and went back to her cooking.

“Okay, now for the outside.”

I held onto my lunch as he shaky-cammed his way out through the weeds and several rusted-out cars to the stable.

“And this here is my pride and joy, Sampson.” The pinto snorted and stamped as if he knew someone was talking about him. Jack held an apple slice in his open palm and the horse ran his thick lips over it and snatched it with another snort as if to say, “Do better next time.”

Jack laughed and turned the camera on himself once more. “So what do you think?”

“I really wish I could meet your family in person. They seem like such interesting people. I love your little brother.”

“Yeah, he’s a handful. But fun. You really should come here sometime.”

My breath caught in my throat. “Jack, you know I would love to, but I don’t know how that would happen.”

“I know.” His smile stayed put. “But a guy can dream, can’t he? It’s what keeps me going. Anyway, want to see the Badlands?”

“From horseback?”

“From horseback.”