Queen of the Clueless (Interim Goddess of Love) (10 page)

"I just need to tell you something."

Why did he seem so tall? And,
unfriendly?
He wasn't a stranger, this guy. I talked to him a few times. I rode in his car once. He was nothing but polite and pleasant, if a little uninterested in being super chummy with me. That wasn't a bad thing.

"Hannah."

"What?"

Before I realized it, his hands had gripped my arms. Not painfully, but firmly.

My breath stopped. And then, the oddest thing.

I was about to say that I blacked out, but it wasn't that
. Everything went white. The roof, the night sky around me, the campus, the hills in the distance, all as if they had been painted crudely with a thick brush. Only Neil remained as real as a person should be.

"I want to talk to you. I feel like I can. Sol trusts you, and everyone else seems to." His voice was gentle, surprisingly unthreatening. Soothing almost.

I wanted to nod, but I couldn't move.

Looking straight at me, his grip loosened, letting go a finger at a time. There was a rhythm to it, almost graceful, and heavy, like he had been stuck to me with glue. When he stepped back, surveying his handiwork, I thought that I started to see why Sol found him attractive. There was a determined air about him I couldn't help but admire.

Except he was kind of holding me hostage right then. It wasn't that I couldn't speak—
I just didn't want to
.

Neil started to circle me, moving slowly against the backdrop of crude white.

"You don't really know me, Hannah." The voice was nice to hear, friendlier than he'd ever been. "But the past few years have sucked for me. Sol is the only good thing I've got right now."

That's not my problem.
But I didn't want to say it.

"So if she says anything to you about me, all you'll say is that you trust me, and that all I want is for her to be happy with me."

I still wasn't breathing.

"Because taking things from people who won't care, that's not wrong. They wouldn't hand things over too easily if they really needed it, right?"

How did he justify stealing from his own girlfriend? "
I use her money to buy stuff for her anyway"?

"Hannah, say yes."

It was difficult. "Yes." And when it came out it was like a child's voice, didn't sound like me at all.

"Thank you, Hannah." It looked like he was done for now, but then he ended up right in front of me again. He looked curious.

"There's something I don't understand about you," Neil said. "I've done this to a few other people but you seem like—you actually seem
aware
of me while I'm talking. I wonder if you're special too, like me."

I am way more special than you.
Whether I could say this or not, I decided not to force it.

Neil lifted a finger and gently poked me. "Hannah, please raise your right hand and hold onto me."

It suddenly seemed like a really good idea to raise my right hand and reach for his. So I did.

'That's right. Can you come a little closer?"

It suddenly seemed like a really good idea to do that. And I did, taking two tiny steps closer.

He let go of my hand as I stood close, so close that I could feel his breath on my skin. I couldn't look away, didn't want to.

And I still wasn't breathing.

Neil didn't let up the staring, waiting. He breathed deeper, and this time I actually felt his body touch mine. He brought his nose to my hair, and held it there. It seemed like a long time. Immediately the insides of my fingers prickled, wanting to connect with his shoulder and push. Half my head was still processing what just happened with Diego, the other half protesting this new, unwelcome advance.

But I didn't push.

I didn't feel like it.

He took my hand again and pressed his lips against it, slowly, and then I felt a rush of warm air as he
smelled
my skin.

That's enough.
My mind told the nerve endings responsible for action. They didn't feel like doing anything about it.

"Hannah," he said, "You're a really great listener. Do you think it's warm up here?"

It was always warm in this country. But that wasn't what he meant, I knew we weren't suddenly talking about the weather.

"It's very warm," I heard myself say.

Neil's eyes. I wish I could describe what it was like to look straight into them. I barely blinked and felt like I was seeing him
think
through those eyes. Irises making tiny, nearly unnoticeable movements. Calculating. Commanding?

And then I had the strangest impulse.

It's so warm.

I should take my shirt off.

Then the next second I did just that. Reached for the hem of my top and pulled it over my head, as casually as someone taking off a jacket, a hat. And I stood in front of him in my black sporty bra, still not blinking, still not breathing.

He didn't have to say it.

"Interesting. Hannah, please reach into my pocket for my phone."

No I will not, perv!
And yet my hand obediently crept up the space between us. I felt the material of his jeans, my fingers dipping into his front pocket. He sort of nudged his head and my hand moved to his back pocket instead. I grabbed something solid by its corner and pulled it out.

The phone wasn't the same one as mine, and yet I operated it with ease, swiping through the menu to get to...

The camera.

I held up the phone at an incriminating angle and snapped three photos.

"Thank you, Hannah." He retrieved the phone and stuck it back in his jeans.

I wanted to get my shirt off from the floor and put it back on, and was relieved to discover that I could. When I was fully clothed again, he retreated, looking satisfied.

"I can't seem to ask Sol to do anything, Hannah. I'm surprised that this worked. Maybe she's more special than you."

A flood of thoughts:

I too am more special than Sol, you just didn't get the memo!

Thank goodness he hasn't been able to command Sol to do awful kinky stuff.

Oh no he just realized he can command other people to do awful kinky stuff.

I could see that the last thought had occurred to him at the same time.

"Well maybe if it doesn't work out with Sol, I won't be so lonely after all," he said. I felt his hand grip my elbow again, and I wanted to shudder. He relaxed his fingers, and color—actually, regular night sky darkness—returned all around me.

He blinked and fixed his shirt; something was caught in the yellow collar. He looked at me expectantly.

I cleared my throat. What was he expecting me to say?

Act oblivious.
"We shouldn't miss the bonfire, Neil," I said, cheerfully, trying not to look at his jeans, trying not to kick him in the nuts and break his phone. But I couldn't make him angry, not when he could do things to me like this. Effortlessly.

He smiled. Maybe I made the right call.

"Are you joining me and Sol? We're watching it."

"Oh you are? No, no, I'll leave you two alone then."

"Are you sure?"

His smiled dropped a little. He turned his head to one side. My hand was shaking. And he was looking at it.

"Well I'm gonna go," I said. "Catch you later, okay?"

I waved and walked toward the stairwell. And then I ran down three flights of stairs.

At some point my mind was so filled with
stuff
that I had gone on autopilot, heading toward the bonfire instead of out the gate and home which I actually wanted to do. When I realized it, I was already back in the crowd, watching the large flames dangerously lick at the night sky.

"Hannah."

Hannahhhhhhh
.

Oh please. I did not have the time for this.

"Vida," I said, instinctively turning to one side and finding her highness right next to me. "Not tonight."

She was smiling at me.
Actually, at my arm. A few months ago, she sort of touched my wrist and for a moment it looked like a bright, glowing bracelet attached itself to me, but it disappeared and I hadn't seen it since. Or I had just imagined the whole thing.

Her smile
right then, it looked like maybe she was enjoying the control she had as she was the main attraction of the night's festivities again, and not Kathy the reality show star. "You're not there yet."

"I know, I know, let's just get this over with. Are you done?"

"You should enjoy yourself. It's a party."

"I don't like fire."

I backed out of this conversation, accidentally stepping on someone's toes, and when I looked up to offer a quick apology I found out whose toes they were.

"Hannah!"

"Ms. Farrah." My voice was usually more respectful, but I couldn't help it. "What happened with Ms. Cabral? Why is Quin—? Why does he even know you were asking around about her?"

Ms. Farrah was more apologetic than she ever needed to be. I knew that in my head, but I did nothing to make her stop. "He promised he wouldn't say anything!"

"Say what?"

"I saw Denise
. She had a small birthday party recently, with some of the faculty. It's where I asked her if she was seeing anybody. Quin was there too."

"So
, is she?"

"Seeing anybody? I'm not sure."

"What do you mean,
not sure?
It's a yes or a no."

"I'm sorry, I didn't understand what she meant, and then Quin came over and interrupted us, and I didn't get any alone time with her anymore..."

My brain started to hurt. But each time it throbbed, it was my heart that hurt. "What did she say?"

"She said, 'Soon I finally can.' Sorry, I don't understand."

Cheers erupted and we both looked in the direction of the fire. But everyone was looking at the facade of the Student Center, where a large tarpaulin banner had just been unfurled.

Congratulations, seniors.
Graduation was six weeks away.

Why would Quin even
be
at that birthday party? I understood more than she did.

"I'm really sorry," Ms. Farrah said.

I should have trained my devotees to be stealthier. More effective. "Next time, just—"

Next time what? Try to outwit the Sun God? It was no
use. "Whatever. I'm going home," I said.

The gate. I willed myself to head to the gate this time. My headache was getting worse, and the happy people pushing against me, all giddy about graduating, didn't help at all.

"Hannah."

"Oh
god
all right already!" was my immediate response, only to turn around and see Robbie. "I'm sorry."

He looked confused, and then crushed. I knew he was crushed because I felt it, like his own heart had punched his gut. "I'm sorry. Did I interrupt something?"
he asked.

"No no, I'm so sorry. I just want to go home."

"I'll walk you."

"No, don't let me keep you from the party
."

"I'm not a senior. It's not for me, I don't care about this. I'd rather walk with you."

I paused for a moment, and tried to tune out all the noise in my head—the partying college students, the fire hazard, the pretty teacher, the mean girl, the scary guy on the roof, the unexpected first kiss.

And found that Robbie meant every word he was saying, and the one thing he was afraid of right then was that I was going to walk away.

How nice, to have a simple fear like that. I conveniently had the solution for it.

"I would like that please," I said. I took his hand, and as his fingers accepted mine I felt my headache lose its power. It must have shown in my face because he looked at me with such warmth, and
he
started feeling better. Which felt just awesome. A chain reaction of feeling not-crappy. It felt like, if I let it go on, I could actually feel safe and secure again.

Shouldn't love be like this?

I'm watching a fire.

It's a monster of a fire. It's consuming all that I can see, raging red and orange and yellow and black. I'm watching it and I'm so sad, so full of regret.

I'm crying.

Is this all my fault?

When will this end?

"Everything ends," says a voice that comes from nowhere but is everywhere all the same.

But it's taking so long, I say.

"If what was lost
can be restored in a heartbeat—"

I know, I know, then it was never lost at all. But this is so painful to watch.