“Well, you’re already a drama queen.” I shake my head, rising from her bed, defeated. Obviously she’s in no mood to listen to reason. I head over to my own bed and plop down, staring up at the ceiling, annoyed as all hell. From across the room, I hear Sunny pressing keys on her phone, to listen to Magnus’s messages again—this time, sans speakerphone.
What am I going to do? I know she won’t make good on her threat to kill herself, but at the same time, I feel terrible that she’s so upset. She’s my twin. And as the oldest by seven minutes, I’m supposed to be the one taking care of her. And yet I know, at the end of the day, if the fairies want her as their queen, there’s very little I can do about it.
I crawl into bed and pull the covers over my head, hugging a pillow to my chest, feeling the tears spring to my eyes. I’ve been working overtime all day to be strong and optimistic for my sister’s sake, but now, alone in bed, reality is starting to sink in big time. If only Jareth were here; he’d know what to do. And even if he didn’t, he’d still take me into his arms and infuse me with the strength to face whatever was coming our way. With him, I feel invincible. Now I just feel kind of defeated.
Part of me hates admitting this. After all, a kick-ass chick like me shouldn’t be all weepy over a guy. I’m not like my sister. But at the same time, Jareth and I are such a good team. I feel like half of me is missing without him by my side. When did I get all codependent girl? Ugh.
I wish I wasn’t so messed up when it comes to relationships. I usually blame my dad, but now even that excuse has gone all cloudy on me. Did he really leave to protect us? Did he really miss my last birthday to save my life? Was the birth of Stormy really not that big a deal? I’ve been furious at him for so long it’s hard to accept the fact that I may have misjudged him. If we ever get out of this, we’re so going to have to spend some time together to figure things out.
I hope he and Mom are okay in fairyland. As conflicted as my feelings are for my dad, I’d clearly die if anything happened to Mom. My best friend. The one who loves me unconditionally no matter how screwed up I am. I can’t lose her. Not to the fairies, not to anyone.
I hear a muffled noise and peek out from under the covers. Sunny’s tossing and turning, trying to get comfortable in the rickety twin bed. Poor girl. I feel bad for grumping at her a few minutes ago. She has every right to express her unhappiness, and it’s probably a lot healthier than stuffing it deep down inside like I tend to do. But, at the same time, I hate seeing her appear so vulnerable. So scared. If only there was a way to ensure I became the fairy queen and not her. Not that I want that, per se—hell, I look freaking awful in pink—but I’d do it in a heartbeat if it meant allowing her to forever live in the human world as she so deeply desires.
I lift my arm in the air and study my elbow. Could it really be as easy as a quick kiss, as Mom said? A simple kiss to save my sister’s life and ensure she never has to become something she doesn’t want to be? Tentatively, I lift my head, pressing my lips to the wrinkly elbow skin, my entire body buzzing in anticipation. Here goes nothing.
7
I wake up the next morning with the worst backache ever. For being a posh private school, Riverdale’s beds are lumpy as all hell. I glance over at Sunny, who’s still in bed with the covers pulled over her head, then at the clock, which reads ten to seven. Ugh. We’ve got ten minutes to get dressed and get to class—or incur the wrath of Headmistress Roberta.
“Sunny, wake up!” I leap out of bed and cross the room to shake my sister. She moans in protest. “Get up and get ready.”
“Five more minutes,” she pleads.
“How about five more seconds? One, two ...”
“Okay, okay!” My twin sits up, rubbing her bloodshot eyes. Has she been up all night crying? “Geez, you ever think of a career as an alarm clock? You’re totally overqualified in annoyingness.”
“It’s for your own good, Sun,” I say, rummaging through my tiny dorm-room closet for something suitable to wear. “You don’t want that evil headmistress coming down on you. Or, you know, me, for that matter.” According to my schedule, which was dropped off by Lilli when she came by with lunch yesterday—grilled cheese sandwiches and a huge jug of strawberry Kool-Aid, all of which I ended up tossing in the trash since Sunny wouldn’t eat and I can’t. I’ve got combat training most of the day so I’m thinking sweats are probably more practical than my normal lacy black dresses.
I have to forgo makeup, but I manage to get us both dressed and down to the field, where classes are held, with thirty seconds to spare. The morning air is crisp and cool and the other students are huddled around one another for warmth. I look around for our one friend, but Lilli’s nowhere to be found. Must be in a different class.
A man in his forties, carrying a clipboard and sporting a porn mustache and muscle mass that would make Mr. Universe extremely jealous, walks over to us and looks down at his list. “Which one of you is Rayne?” he asks.
I raise my hand.
“Okay, great. You’re in my class. Sunshine?” He turns to my sister. “They’ve put you with the beginners. They meet inside the gym.” He points to one of the one-story outbuildings down at the end of the field. Sunny shoots me a worried glance—I know she doesn’t want to be separated from me—but I give her a comforting squeeze on the shoulder.
“It’ll be okay,” I whisper in her ear. “You’ll be in with a bunch of twelve-year-olds. How bad could it be?”