For Your Heart (Hill Dweller Retellings) (27 page)

    
I frown at her.  “It’s more complicated than that, Em.”

    
She crosses her arms and lifts her chin.  “This is about Timmy, and you know it.”

    
I straighten.  “What?”

    
“Timmy.  Timothy Rhynn.  That kid you used to be uber in love with.”  She makes buggy “duh” eyes.

    
I swallow.  “I wasn’t in love with Timmy.”

    
“I don’t think you’d know love if it smacked you in the face,” Em says.  “Look Nett, I know you.  I knew Timmy and I know Tamrin.  You look at and act with Tamrin like you used to look at and act with Timmy.”

    
Biting my lip, I look away from her.  How can I tell Emily it’s because of the idiotic Bend-spell thing that Tamrin’s friend cast?  She’s right, I probably am the same with Tamrin as I was with Timmy.  But that’s only because every day they seem more and more alike.  “Well,” I say haltingly, “maybe I don’t want Tam to replace Timmy.”

    
“He’s not going to replace Timmy.  They’re two different people.”

    
“But they’re so similar,” I argue.  “Sometimes I can’t tell the difference between the two of them and it scares me.  I mean, what if I only like Tam because he’s like Timmy?  What if I’m subconsciously trying to find a replacement?  That’s not fair to either of them, is it?”  There, I’ve said it.

    
Emily stares at me for a long time.  “I guess I can understand that.  But still, you shouldn’t lead Tamrin on if you’re not going to ever be serious about him.”

    
I look away.  The truth is that I’m already serious.  In a few weeks I’ve fallen so hard for Tam that my head is spinning in confusion.  I think a lot of it has to do with his similarities to Timmy.  Kissing him was a mistake, because I don’t know which boy I thought I was kissing.  And that’s really why I’m afraid to kiss him again.

    
Still, that doesn’t stop the feelings.  He’s still living with me and he’s in all my classes.  I couldn’t avoid him if I wanted to.  I couldn’t be cold and mean if I tried.  Not now.  Now with how he looks at me and how I feel about him.  Not with how gentle his touch is or how true his lips against mine were that one afternoon.  Not with the way he holds me at night.  And all that makes me want him more.  It’s like a feedback loop of affection.  And that’s why, painful as it is not to spend time with him, I forced him on his own today.  I need to cut the line and take a breather.

    
Emily and I walk in silence, heading to the field for Amber’s meet.  Cross country teams from across the state already patchwork the field in motley colors.  The yearly meet through Carver Hall Park is in full swing.

    
“Ug, look at all those people.  My anxiety is already through the roof.  Remind me again why we do this?” Em says.

    
“Because we’re supporting Amber…And Celeste needs to spy on Mike Grotto.”

    
“And you’re avoiding Tamrin,” she adds.

    
I shrug.  “Avoiding isn’t the right word.”

    
“He’s not with you.  He’s always with you.”

    
I smile.  “You do realize that’s not a good thing, right?  I mean, I don’t want to be that girl who becomes addicted to her boyfriend and ignores her friends because of it.”

    
“You’re not ignoring us.  You bring him with you when you’re with us.”

    
“And you don’t find that annoying?” I ask.

    
She knits her brow.  “Not really.  He’s not exactly talkative.”

    
I scoff.  “Not with you maybe, sometimes I can’t get him to shut up.  Anyway, I need alone time – just me and my friends.  Besides, if you’re right and I am a Dom, then I should be more sensitive to his needs, right?  He needs freedom, alone time, and his own friends, too.  I can’t keep him on a leash whether he chained himself to me or not.”

    
As we walk around the chapel, something catches my eye in the forest just beyond.  A face among dozens.  One I know.  One that makes my heart race.  I stop short, staring into pale blue eyes framed by dark brown hair.

    
“Nett?  You okay?”

    
I tip my head, indicating that I heard Em, but not looking away from the eyes I know so well.  “Uh, yeah.”

    
She grabs my hand.  “We’re already late, come on.”

    
I shake my head.  “No.  I mean, I’ll uhm.  I’ll catch up.  Go without me.”

    
“Nett?”  Em says, but I’m already moving away from her, drawn to the face at the edge of the woods.  “Are you all right?”

    
Ignoring her, I push past bodies, drawn as if by a spell to the boy standing in the underbrush.  Only now, certain he’s gotten my attention, he’s backing away, the bushes folding in around him.

    
I reach out my hand.  “Timmy!” It’s both a whisper and a scream of beckoning.  He’s almost gone.  So, I run. 

Tamrin

    
After Jean’s lovely chestnut hair disappears through the back door, I stand and stare after her for what seems like forever. 

    
“Well that’s gratitude for you,” Enmire grumbles from where he’s sitting by my feet.

    
I frown down at him.

    
“You’re here for her.  You give up your world for her. And now she wants you to go off on your own.”

    
“She wants me to make friends,” I say.  “That’s different.”

    
Enmire glowers up at me.  “What am I?  Chopped liver?”

    
I look away, examining the hall.  “She wants me to have human friends.” 

    
“Need I remind you that integration is not your cup of tea?”

    
I sigh.  “I really don’t need reminding of that, thank you.”  Back home, no one wants to be my friend.  Who wants to be friends with the freak who wasn’t born looking like everyone else and didn’t awaken into his Talent?  Who wants to be friends with the court whore?  I’ve only had Connor, because we’re comrades and outcasts in more than one way.  But even then, we never called each other friends.  Seelies don’t make friends.  Just like they don’t fall in love.

    
And here I’m doing both.  “I must be insane.”

    
“No arguments here.”

    
I turn away from the back door and walk down the semi - empty halls, Enmire – invisible to human eyes – in tow.  Every-so-often, a student will emerge from a club room on the way to the bathroom.  And every ten minutes or so, one of the athletic teams runs past me, their shoes squeaking on the tile floors.  Odd tooting and hooting noises come from the music rooms.  A group of art students sit around a ladder, plotting a new mural to go around one of the locker banks.  For a moment, I contemplate calling on Connor, though I’m not entirely ready to talk to him about Jean, he’ll call me a madman.  I pass the mat room.  And then I pause and back-pedal.  They’re fighting.

    
“What kind of sword play is that?” Enmire demands.

    
I examine the flimsy swords and postures that no one with half a whit would use in a real sword fight.  Something about how ridged and gentlemanly it looks catches my interest.  I hover in the doorway, watching.

    
Eventually, a thin kid with acne wearing the same weird, padded white outfit as those I’m watching gets up and comes over to me.  “You’re that new guy Tamrin, right?”

    
I nod.

    
“I’m Andy, captain of the fencing team.  You ever fence before?”

    
After a moment of thought, I say, “Not like this.”

    
The kid tips his head.  “Is fencing different over in England?” 

    
At my blank look Enmire says, “That’s where you’re from, remember?  All boys school in London?”

    
Oh, right.  I force a smile.  “I didn’t fence there.  I fought there.”

    
His brows wrinkle.  “Fought?”

    
I give him an indulgent expression.  “Swords.  Not these-” I gesture toward the thing in his hand.

    
“Glorified needles?” Enmire offers.

    
Andy lifts it.  “Foil.  There’s also saber and epee.”

    
“They don’t look very sturdy,” I reason.  “How do you kill people with that?”

    
He scoffs, his face breaking into a wide grin featuring strikingly straight teeth.  “It’s not for killing.  It’s a dueling weapon and these days it’s all about form and sportsmanship.  It’s a chivalric pastime.”

    
“Hmm.”  I go back to watching the paired off students on the floor.

    
After a moment, Andy says, “You wanna fence with us?”

    
I nod.

    
“Great, now you’re taking up sewing,” Enmire grumbles.  “Well, while you play Granny, I’m going to take a nap.”  He disappears down the hall and I follow Andy into the mat room.

Andy is teaching me the difference between a saber and an epee when Emily wanders into the mat room.  She meets my eyes, looks around, and then her face falls.  Jean’s not with her, which makes me nervous because I left her in Emily’s care.  I excuse myself and slip toward her.

    
“What’s wrong?  Where’s Jean?”

    
She stares up at me, her glasses tipping slightly as her face contorts in concern.  “I thought maybe she came back here to be with you.”

    
Frowning, I grasp Emily by the elbow and usher her out of the mat room.  “You can’t find her?”

    
She shakes her head.  “She saw someone,” Emily says.  “And next thing I know she’s running into the woods.  She told me she’d catch up, but it’s been almost an hour and she hasn’t come out.  She hates the park; I don’t know why she’d go in.”

    
I let my hand fall away, a sick feeling in my stomach.  “Where?”

    
“At the end of the path leading to the chapel.  I think she saw someone she knew, but…” her voice trails off, as if confused.

    
“Who?”

    
She rubs her temple.  “I swear I heard her say Timmy, but, I can’t have.  There was no one there, I swear.”

    
Now thoroughly uneasy, I turn away.  “I’ll find her.”

About a hundred yards into the park, the foliage swallows the noises of the students on the field.  I cast about, searching for any sign of Jeanette’s passage.  Broken fern fronds, footprints in the soft earth, overturned pine needles.  I track her deeper and deeper into the woods.  Until the trail stops cold.

    
I stand straight and turn in a circle, searching.  “Jean?” I call into the warm air.

    
The trees overhead rustle, a slight breeze reaches down to caress my face.  Her fingers, her touch.  I take a deep breath and her scent fills my nose, as if I could sense her on the wind.  I close my eyes, savoring her as part of the beauty of the wild around me.

    
I hear her giggle, a fleeting tease, urging me to chase after.

    
When I open my eyes, the world is hung with a curtain of mist.  In the back of my mind, I know this indicates something wrong, but I’m unable to understand why.  Have I encountered this before? 

    
Roxel.  Benders. Mist.

    
Roxel uses this kind of mist.  No fear.  No consequence.  She uses this on me.  I hate this mist.

    
What’s it doing here? 

    
Is Roxel here?

    
I don’t understand.

    
The wind curls around me, dragging at me. 
Come.  Play.
 

    
No
.  Jean’s here
.  The wind teases me with Jean and my body can’t resist.  It wants her too bad.  I want her too much.

    
Her laughter echoes through the trees, tumbling deeper and deeper into the wild.  I run after it.

    
“Jean!” I call again.  And again.

    
I leap over a rock, landing too far forward and stumble through the underbrush.  When I roll to my feet, she’s there.  Just standing and looking into the distance.  Body alive, I struggle to my feet and step toward her.  “Jean?” 

    
I reach out and put my hand on her shoulder.  It’s everything I can do not to pull her close, not react to the desire that’s intense and sudden in my body. 
No, it’s the mist.  Fight it.  Get her out of here.