Matters of Circumstance (22 page)

“Yeah, me too.” Farrah said it, but in reality her mind was still on Ruby’s slightly protective behavior. This wasn’t all for her, but it wasn’t only for the sake of the animals either, and that was—to put it simply—touching. If Farrah could hold on to friends like this, today would be easy. She would be able to get through anything.

It was prom night. Farrah had been simultaneously dreading and excitedly anticipating it. Of course, she still wasn’t going to the actual prom, but it was going to be a momentous occasion all the same. Ruby had already texted a picture of her posing with Gerry, all dolled up. They looked great together, almost like a pair of movie stars.

Bianca had also stolen Michael’s phone and texted her a picture with a
‘wish you were coming too!’
Really, for all her attempts to go punk/goth (and she had definitely gone punk/goth princess with this prom dress, whereas Michael looked slightly out of place next to her in his classic tux) she was still the same bubbly person she had always been.

Farrah had gotten several dozen other texts besides, messages and pictures both, but those two were the ones that mattered the most to her. It made her happy that her friends were happy.

She didn’t want to be with them tonight, though; she had other plans, and if she did it right things would be as good as or better than prom.

At least, that was what she hoped.

“No, I’ve got to run some errands,” she was saying into her cell phone. “My dad will pick you up and bring you over, and then I should be there within, like, five minutes.”

“Don’t go out of your way for me like that. I can be ready to go now, so I can just run errands with you. What do you have to do?”

“Oh, I’m already out. Just take the ride, Neal, and bring movies.” Of course, Farrah said this as she crossed the kitchen and bent down to checked the food in the oven, but he didn’t need to know that.

Neal was quiet, thinking the situation over. “I don’t know, Fare. I mean, yeah, it’s prom night and all, but if things are too hectic for you we can reschedule, you know? No rush.”

Her back immediately went rod-straight, and concern knitted her brows. “Why would you say that? Did something come up?” she asked.

“No—no, no. Nothing like that.” He had obviously picked up on her new demeanor. “But if you’re so busy and are just going to be tired when you get back you don’t need me pestering—”

“We made plans, I’m not going back on them—besides.” At that she pitched her voice to something that was guaranteed to guilt trip him. “This is supposed to be our first real date, sort of. I was looking forward to it.”

“It’s only watching movies in your living room, Farrah.”

“So?” she said pointedly, slumping against the counter next to the oven and crossing her ankles. She didn’t care how hard she had to fight for it, he
had
to agree to this.

Neal made a noise between a sigh and a snort of amusement. “Okay, okay, I just feel bad that your dad has to pick me up, that’s all,” he said, but it didn’t really sound like he thought it was such a big sacrifice anymore.

Farrah smiled. “Good. My dad will be there at 6:30,” she said. “And he’s the punctual sort, too, remember. I’ll see you around then.”

“Okay, I’ll see you.”

They hung up as her father came into the kitchen, sniffing obnoxiously. “What are you making? I can’t tell, but whatever it is, it smells good.”

“Stuffed eggplant. I’m trying something a little different,” she replied, pushing her cell phone into the pocket of her jeans.

“Oh, got to love eggplant,” he said as he peeked into the oven to see for himself. “What did you put in it?”

“Some chicken, bell peppers, a little bit of garlic and basil—”

The oven shut and he snapped up. “Never mind. Don’t tell me anymore.”

“What?” she asked with a grin. “Does it sound good?”

“Hell yeah it does. And I’m even eating out tonight—speaking of which, Neal knows I’m picking him up at 6:30, not 6:00?”

“Yep.” She went over to the refrigerator and opened it, hummed and tapped her foot with a small frown. “Hey, what do you think I should have with it? I mean, pretty much everything for a complete meal is inside the eggplant, but I just feel like I should have
more,
you know what I mean?”

“I don’t know,” he said, walking up to look over her shoulder. “Can’t go wrong with a salad, I guess.”

She groaned and shut the fridge. “Salads are so
generic.
I want something a little more original.”

“Make dessert, then,” said her mother as she strode into the room. “And stop fretting.”

“I’m not fretting, I just want—”

“—Everything to be perfect, and you hate that it’s not. That’s fretting,” she said coolly, also checking on food in the oven.

“I have to say, Fare-bear,” her father remarked, leaning on the counter much the way she had done not five minutes ago. “You’re really making this into a huge deal.”

“I know, but that’s the point. I just—” she sighed, unable to get the words out. “It’s supposed to be a big deal, trust me.”

“Wouldn’t leave you alone with this boy if we didn’t,” said Tracy O’Brien, closing the oven again.

“Mom, I didn’t mean it like that.”

Her mother acted as if she hadn’t heard that as she left the room (had she really only come in to check on the eggplant?). Farrah heard her ascend the steps, and figured that she was probably going to get ready to leave. She was still currently in her weekend clothes, which Farrah knew would not cut it if she wanted to leave the house.

Her father, who was already mostly dressed, smiled at her warmly. “She means that, though; we both do.”

“I know, and it’s really, really cool of you guys to let me do this. You already know how much I appreciate it.” And if they didn’t from the way she had gushed and profusely thanked them when they had initially okay’d the idea then Farrah wouldn’t know how else to express herself.

The smile grew. “Yeah, but sometimes it’s nice to be told that we trust you, isn’t it?” he said.

She considered that briefly, and then said, “It does. But that still doesn’t help me figure out what to have with this eggplant.”

*****

By the time her father’s car rolled up and exchanged Neal for her mother Farrah had pretty much figured everything out. At least, she hoped she had, because if she hadn’t then she was screwed. There was no time for her to waste anymore.

“Bye Mom,” she said, kissing her mother on the cheek before the woman clacked out the door in her perfume and heels. Tracy O’Brien had contributed the Hispanic/Chinese part of Farrah’s heritage, so she was a little on the short side. The heels made up for that, though; she was nearly as tall as Farrah with them, and definitely prettier.

Naturally, her mother did not offer a verbal reply; she only offered a backwards, half-assed wave. Farrah wasn’t expecting much else. Not from her mother.

He hadn’t even reached the door and she could see how confused Neal was. He responded somewhat belatedly to her mother’s brisk, “Hello Neal” as she brushed past, and his eyebrows drew together tightly when he reached Farrah and saw what she had recently changed into herself.

Not that Farrah blamed him. She was wearing a skirt and blouse better suited for going to a fairly fancy restaurant. Not as fancy as the one her parents were going to, grant, but definitely more upscale than Denny’s, for example.

Her wings were also out and flexing for the world to see, which she knew would
really
threw him off.

“I have absolutely no idea what to make of all this,” was the first thing that came out of his mouth when he halted on the door step. The DVDs were in his hands and he was wearing the Led Zeppelin hoodie he’d had on the first time she met him at Joe’s Joe. His hair was a little disheveled, like he hadn’t taken the time to brush it today, and his jeans were well worn, but in all honesty Farrah didn’t care. He was still as handsome as ever.

Playing it cool, she offered only a shameless little shrug as she let him in and shut the door behind him. “I might have fudged a couple things about tonight,” she admitted.

“Nah, I couldn’t have guessed.” That part came out a mite sarcastically, but the next didn’t. “I thought we were going to be watching movies.”

“We still can, if you want.”

“Yeah, but
that.”
He gestured at her outfit with his movie-free hand. “What’s that for?”

Now Farrah wasn’t so confident anymore. “What? Does it look bad?” She had thought she looked good, but maybe there was a stain or a nasty wrinkle that she hadn’t noticed before. Maybe it had totally ruined her appearance. She glanced down at herself, tugged her blouse out to inspect it. Still nothing, as far as she could see.

He touched one of her hands, subsequently stilling them both. The expression on his face very clearly told her that he didn’t think this was funny. “If I complained I wouldn’t be heterosexual,” Neal said frankly. “I just don’t get where all of this is coming from.”

Perhaps it wasn’t supposed to be, but Farrah took that as flattery and warmed accordingly. “Thanks.”

At first he looked at her as if he expected more of a response, but then he sniffed. “Wow, what is that smell?” And all of a sudden his eyes snapped back at her, comprehension very prominent. “You didn’t.”

Farrah made sure to keep her body language innocent and blank. This was entertaining and kind of annoying at the same time. “I didn’t what?” she said, playing dumb.

“Really? You seriously did all of this?” Neal couldn’t seem to believe his senses.

“What did I do?”

She thought she saw his wings shifting beneath his hoodie, but she couldn’t tell why. “I-I don’t even know what to say. This—this… Really?” He looked at her in utter disbelief.

“Um, is that good really or a bad really?” she had to ask, because she was more than a little thrown off at this point.

Then, quite without warning, Neal hugged her. Farrah hugged back, of course, but it took a moment for her to get her bearings.

“I don’t know why you’re doing this,” he said, tracing the bottom tips of her wings with slow, contemplative hands—not just his fingers, but his whole palm—and causing her to shiver in sensitivity. “But you’ve got to know that I appreciate it, no matter the reason.”

Either he had seen right through her or he was dead wrong, but Farrah liked to think it was the former. She preferred that over a misconception.

That didn’t mean she didn’t have a bone to pick with him, though. “No matter the reason? What kind of messed up motive do you think I’d have for doing this?” she said indignantly, pulling away.

Neal had the decency to look sheepish, at least. “Sorry, that came out wrong. I was just trying to convey my sincerity, you know?” And then his demeanor changed into something she was too slow to identify. “I don’t think I’ve seen you without a hoodie since your wings hatched. Would it be creepy to say that you look better this way?”

In all honesty Farrah had no idea why that flattered her so much. She fidgeted, trying to keep herself collected. “I prefer seeing you, actually,” she confessed shyly. “You make them look natural.”

They were also a reminder of how incredible their circumstances were. It wasn’t just the fact that wings had sprouted out of their backs, it was the fact they had met each other because of these wings; it was how compatible they had always been, right from the start. The past few months had felt like a mistake—coincidence—but looking back now Farrah wasn’t so convinced. If fate existed, she thought, this would be a prime example of it.

That was why she wanted to keep her wings. She didn’t want to lose sight of that, to forget how close she was to never meeting Neal at all, because, well…

Neal laughed, but it was a gentle sound. He wasn’t trying to make fun of her or anything. “Thanks. It’s nice to know all my modeling efforts have paid off,” he said with a grin. “And speaking of which, mind if I join you?”

“Not at all.”

His smile widened and he pulled his sweater off in one swift movement, DVDs in hand and all. With his hoodie slung over one arm and movies in the other hand, she thought she saw him become substantially more comfortable. He didn’t need to flaunt it for her to see the shape all of the exercise had given his wings, either, and all of those things just upped his attraction factor.

He had promised to show her, and she was honestly eager to see it, but she didn’t want tonight to be when Neal flew for her. This evening was supposed to be about her doing things for him, not the other way around. Putting himself on display via flight would be him doing something; it would ruin all the things she was working for.

Farrah did want to see him fly, though. She wanted to match the image in her head with the real thing, because in her head it was magnificent.

She beamed back even as these thoughts scampered through her head, and she asked, “What movies did you bring?”

About that point she realized that they were both still standing behind the front door, and quickly beckoned him to follow her into the living room, where she started setting up the Blu-Ray for whatever they decided to watch.