Chapter Summary: Emma has a setback with Regina, receives more bad news from Reul, has a heart-to-heart with a surprisingly gifted student who she can't stand, and texts with a friend who confronts her with a hard truth. All while showing you Step Two in the recovery process.
Step 2. Recognize Relationship Red Flags And Burn Them
I shouldn't own an iPhone 6.
Let me back up a smidgen.
It's important to show you the agonizing Regina situation I'm dealing with right now.
You know, highlight those red flags.
RED FLAG: LACK OF COMMUNICATION FROM HER
So, from the body-indentation trench of my white sheet covered dorm room bed on the third floor of Merlin Manor, lying down on my stomach in a pair of ratty yellow emoji pajamas with my chin perched on my bunched up pillow and my head facing a wall plastered with framed movie posters - looking like a splayed out homicide victim outlined in white chalk - I sent Regina the following text at 7:35 am this morning:
can i see you now, my queen?
Even used the pet name she likes me to sing with my tongue from the pulse point of her neck to the whorl of her ear when she's on the cusp of… when we're alone.
It's exactly six hours later.
No reply.
I haven't seen or heard from Regina in three days.
Missing from my life. For three days. Not a single word.
We don't have any classes together and I don't socialize with any her friends (Cruella, Maleficent and Ursula). Barely anyone knows we're... dating(?) So no word from the friend fronts.
You can file a missing persons report in 24 hours - technically the moment you notice a person is missing. Press your index finger to your thumb. I'm that close to calling the sheriff's department.
Look, I know Regina read my text. She read it at 7:42 am to be exact. Apple gives you the necessary tools to stalk your girlfriends, your crushes, your frenemies, your whatevers with the message read notification. It's a magical feature.
Unless you're me.
Then it's a tortuous eyesore capable of fueling psychosis.
RED FLAG: YOU DATE YOUR BED MORE THAN YOU DATE HER
I've been stewing in my musty sadness in my dorm room for those same three days, in those ratty pajamas I mentioned, because to hell with the school uniform.
Puffy swollen green eyes after countless minutes of hot salty tears streaming down my face, seeping into my pores to carve out a grand canyon of pain in their wake and damaging the remnants of the $65 foundation still masking my sad face (the foundation was a gift from Regina. Tears or no tears, for that price the makeup stays on more than one day. Yeah, I know. Ew. Sadness is the perfect excuse not to cleanse your face.)
I've been barely surviving off grilled cheese sandwiches fried in mayo, trying to bury the agony of my love life under mounds of gooey carbohydrates.
To add insult to injury, my hair is loose and tangled; blonde tendrils snaking around my face and neck as if meaning to suffocate. As if my body is so tired of my mopey self-pity existence it's fashioning a noose for me made of me.
No matter what happens to me, I will always harbor the hunch that my life is more complicated than necessary and will never be simplified. Nothing was ever easy for me growing up in East Storybrooke, and that reality is not going to change now that I'm at one of the best schools for magic.
Now that I am in love.
Not when I am what I am.
Not when I'm depressed in addition to being what I am.
Easy can never be trusted. If I'm not suffering, then nothing I'm experiencing is real.
Even so, Regina deliberately ignoring me couldn't be happening at a more inopportune time.
Ugh, just read the unbelievable mess for yourself:
RED FLAG: YOU NEGLECT IMPORTANT ASPECTS OF YOUR LIFE BECAUSE OF HER
Dear Miss Emma Swan:
Our records indicate that your class attendance rate is in violation of school policies as outlined in the Storybrooke Magic Academy and Institute Student Handbook, section 41-A: Mandatory Attendance and Unexcused Absences. Please review the aforementioned policy to ensure proper understanding of the policies all students must comply with or risk incurring disciplinary actions up to and including expulsion. As per your sponsorship contract, your academic sponsorship is contingent upon satisfactory class attendance and at least a 3.2 grade point average.
Storybrooke Magic Academy and Institute hereby places you on academic probation for: Excessive Absenteeism From Assigned Classes. You also have accrued 2 demerits for late submission of schoolwork. If you fail to report to your classes 1 more time within the next three months and have not received prior permission for an excused absence from a teacher or health care provider, you will become subject to disciplinary action up to and including expulsion.
To assist you with your efforts to rectify your probationary status, you have been assigned a peer monitor. Your peer monitor will assist you with the following actions and more as specified by her supervisor: normalizing class attendance in accordance with Student Life Guidelines and Policies, providing transportation to off-campus employment due to your Non-Teleporter status with the Student Transportation Services, and helping with independent study material preparation.
You will meet with your peer monitor once per day for an amount of time no less than 30 minutes and not exceeding 1 hour within the capacity of student-to-peer monitor relations. Meetings shall be documented, verified and signed off by your peer monitor's supervisor. You will meet with your peer monitor until official notice from the Headmistress' office terminates the mentorship. If you fail to report to peer monitor meetings, you will become subject to disciplinary action up to and including expulsion.
If you have any questions, please contact the Dean of Student Life Offices at (555) 555-1686 or email rghorm at storybrookemagicacademyandinstitute dot edu.
Academic Probation Addendum:
Miss Swan, I expect you to become an accomplished and responsible mage this semester. I had hoped our last meeting would have conveyed to you the importance of your compliance with school policies and student behavioral expectations in light of your unique situation. As evident by your most recent absences and demerits accumulation, we will need to schedule an additional in-person meeting this week.
This is my personal phone line, do not share it with anyone, any entity, or any supernatural presence: (555) 555-6262. Please call at your earliest convenience to schedule a meeting with me. Please take advantage of my assistance. If I do not hear from you by this Friday, I will issue another demerit and send notice of a meeting time of my choosing.
Sincerely,
Reul Ghorm
Headmistress
Storybrooke Magic Academy and Institute
Get off any probation lists you're on, academic or not, as soon as you can. I like to play with fire. I'm in love with a girl whose literal go to response for everything that irks her is to shoot a fireball at it.
You must be level headed.
Do not ruin your academic life for... love.
Well, it's Friday.
It should come to no one's surprise that I haven't yet contacted She Of The Weird Ass Pixie Powers. And I won't.
Ugh, before I could root around in my own detritus for another six hours waiting for Regina's reply like a distressed puppy dog left home alone, someone knocked on my dorm room door.
By the knock, I'll tell you right off the bat - so you're not swept up in a whirlwind of suspense - it's not Regina.
Regina doesn't knock on my dorm door. She texts me to tell me she's near and I dart down my dorm's stairs two at a time, sprint past the main quad, and shotgun down winding streets to meet her in a secluded barely lit wooded path for sex in my car. It's the behavior of a murder maybe?
The knocking became incessant; the violence of it making me chew the inner corners of my mouth to prevent myself from force-pushing whoever was behind the door down a flight of stairs.
I hopped from my bed and spun my door open with such annoyed force, I almost slammed the door against a wall, rattling the full-length wooden framed mirror attached to the back of it. Not that I cared if the mirror fell and shattered into a thousand shards.
One, bad luck is the only luck I have, nothing new there.
Two, the mirror was a 'just because' gift from Regina that I knew was a 'really because' gift when she handed it to me because she really felt guilty about being an emotional invalid.
Or, as she phrased it: "So every morning you can see all the beauty I see in you, Swan."
Her explanation soothed my soul. Better tasting than all the bear claws, onions rings and grilled cheeses in the world. Regina has a mastery over words - and over lies. A honeyed serpent's tongue. Come to think of it - it's probably her strongest magic. She probably meant the sentiment. In the beginning.
What does she see in me now?
A gullible freak?
RED FLAG: OTHERS HAVE SCHEDULED AN INTERVENTION FOR YOU BECAUSE OF HER
At least Tinker Bell was standing before me smiling, however sheepishly, pausing in the doorway. Waiting for permission to enter while scanning my room.
People say seeing a smile can be contagious. The way a tiny infant sees you smile at it and moments later it smiles at you. I'm not a tiny infant. I knitted my eyebrows at Tinker Bell (and maybe even scowled at her a little.)
In addition to rocking a smile, Tinker Bell was dressed to military precision in our school uniform, which was clearly modeled after some Japanese business man's wet dreams: form-fitting white blouse, knee-high white socks, pleated red skirt, skirt matching tie, and black shoes (Tinker Bell's are Vans, mine are tattered Converses, and Regina's are leather cap-toed Jimmy Choo flats - she's a shoe snob with beautiful, soft feet.)
Tinker Bell's blonde hair was coiffed in an elaborate ponytail-and-braids combo that probably required five hours to arrange. A green ribbon as a ponytail holder granted her the effect of being a walking aluminum Christmas tree. All shiny and artificial.
And I chose to view the peer monitor slash babysitter standing before me in the smiling flesh as being the equivalent of having a leaky butt hole covering your forehead. Shit constantly streaming into your eyes.
She was the last person I wanted to see. Ever. Period.
I was still sad. Still upset. Still missing Regina.
To boot, Tinker Bell and I are polar opposites.
Me: Dark and Sullen like a mossy bog.
Her: Bright and Cheery like a billion cartoon suns.
Me: A Senior who could care less about anything.
Her: A Junior who frets over every little detail.
When you annoyingly stress over the smallest things, the minutiae of life, regular people call it being anal retentive. Around here students say you've 'got that Tink going on hardcore.'
Tinker Bell flashed an expectant look, rocking on the balls of her shoes, clutching an iPad in one hand. I sighed and motioned for her to venture into my room. She inched forward, not speaking in her usual mile-a-minute banter, no doubt silenced for a moment by the stale sad-sack stench permeating my room, but her eyes continued to survey the scene.
Food wrappers and napkins thrown anywhere. Bed sheets crumbled on the floor. Books tossed about without rhyme or reason. Dirty clothes forming unnatural mountain ranges. Stale air choking life from the room. My unstable magic - light and dark - crashing about the room in tumultuous waves, enveloping the both of us in dangerous tides that threatened to pull us further away from the shores of reality.
There was something vaguely unnatural about the way she moved through all the chaos. No, glided to my desk where she deposited her iPad and lorded over my desk chair without sitting down. Just stared at me with air of superiority but also with an assessing caution, as she fanned her fingers out at her sides, wiggled them in the air in what seemed like random movements to the untrained eye but were coordinated code.
Although I could not make out the specific language her fingers spoke to the air, I recognized what she was doing. I saw it often as a child. As a teen. It was done by the nuns at my orphanage. In Lily's and my room.
She was casting a protection ward. A powerful one.
I felt the restless dark energy within me rallying and clamoring to shoot pangs of heat through the nerves of my body and through the synapses of my brain. It was a flight or fight survival response that leaned heavily on the fight side of things. I didn't have my wand in my hand, couldn't summon it to me with the ward forming, so I eyed my fingernails.
Imagined digging the shape of an hourglass on the back of my palm. Not a rune or calligraphy, but a perfect encapsulation of my feelings at the moment.
The feeling of not being in control of my own time and space. They didn't belong to me fully. The sensation pissed me off immensely.
Tinker Bell read the worry, fear, and confusion mapping out the contours of my face. Shook her head, and walked toward me. Scooped up my hands into hers. Her hands warm and secure. Her magic the softest downy feather pillow, I wanted to snuggle with it. I could have flinched away.
And yet, I didn't.
I felt a hotness build within me to a fevered pitch, settle at the point where our flesh met, and then disperse through my fingertips into hers and out into the air where it evaporated.
I looked at my legs that were now clad in clean pajamas and felt the rest of me change: Sad body stench gone and replaced with the comforting and calming aroma of wild honeysuckle with a tinge of lavender. My hair detangled and brushed into a loose ponytail. My body and dorm room clean, fresh, renewed.
I didn't have the heart to be completely angry about the presumptuous, bold and intrusive use of her magic to 'lift me up' because it was honestly needed and I had little confidence at this point that I was ever going to motivate myself to do it. I still couldn't move. Didn't want to. There was music all around me. Inviting violin notes, strumming my heart to beat normally.
My magic responded to her. Wanted to be with her. It worried me.
Scared me.
But, it wasn't until I saw Tinker Bell flash a confident and knowing smile, one that settled with a plastic sheen across her face, that I recognized why her demeanor and actions were foreign and familiar at the same time.
She was like Reul Ghorm.
But different.
Tinker Bell's true abilities and energy signature were carefully hidden all this time - like I had done with my dark magic - which meant she knew I was a potential Dark One (what happened to confidential student information?) Knew that my hostility could have made any conversation the forerunner to a force-push or choke and took the necessary precautions.
Except, she had done it with a gentleness that seemed like understanding.
Seemed because nothing worked out for the best when it came to me.
I wasn't about to thank her for any of it. But, I didn't need to. She knew. I hadn't attacked her, yet.
Regina was always so special to me because she had been the only person in all my life who could reach me when the darkness tugged at my core, threatening to overpower me. Because I wanted her to save me. I wanted her to want me. Need me. Understand me.
Then there was Reul to an extent. And now Tinker Bell in a different way.
Things were not making sense. How am I so easily managed?
Tinker Bell released my hands and shrugged in an annoyingly cute nonchalant manner.
Tinker Bell: "Sorry if I worried you, Emma."
Me: "Uh-huh."
Some of my irritation had faded, but not enough. I desperately wanted to scratch my arms. Every inch of my arms itched and burned. But I didn't want Tinker Bell to touch me again. This may sound silly, but it felt like betraying Regina. Like the weakness of infidelity. Only, it didn't make me feel dirty like Reul had eight weeks ago.
Tinker Bell has an inviting face. Naturally lights up when she speaks. Makes her barely tolerable in extremely small increments. We're talking bordering on 'never' because it's Tinker Bell and she always has that Tink going on hardcore and now she had whatever it was going on with her magic, which made her another suspect in the lineup of my mind filled up with people out to ruin me.
Tinker Bell: "Are you still having problems controlling your darkness after the Weakening with my aunt?"
Gawd, she's Reul's niece. Told you nothing good happens to me.
Tinker Bell was blunt and noisy to the point of inciting long eye rolls (the trait must run in her family). I sighed, and slowly brought my hands to my face, steepled them at the bridge of my nose where I squeezed from both sides to quell the tension mounting there.
At least there was no need to guess why she was here bothering me. She was definitely the peer monitor assigned to me. One who could drain off my edge.
One whose chipper face was incongruous with my sullen mood and who stirred up unpleasant truths.
Note to self: Research everything regarding the magic of a 'Weakening.'
I knew why she was in my dorm room. Didn't mean I wouldn't fuck with her about it.
Me: "Did you actually need something or do you just like accosting people in their dorm rooms?"
I almost cringed over how much my own voice sounded like Regina yelling from Mt. High. I rarely saw Tinker Bell around campus. She processed the message a long time ago from my hostile body language and rude grunts that I didn't want to see her around campus. But sounding like a dick to Tinker Bell made me float back to thoughts of Regina because she's curt to Tinker Bell too.
I couldn't stop thinking about how devastatingly beautiful Regina was. How devastatingly painful loving her was. I missed her voice.
In addition to my text, I've called Regina more than nine times in the last two hours. Each and every time the call went straight to voicemail. I hadn't bothered to leave her any messages. I don't want her to actually hear my desperation even though my desperation is easier to see than a McDonald's logo sign from a highway overpass.
I'm certain the last two or three times I called were just to hear her velvety voice in the voicemail. It's so strange and so sad that I've been doing it. Truly a stupid move on my part. I couldn't even tell you the exact wording of her greeting, just the general feel. It's probably the cheeriest voice Regina can muster without being blatantly duplicitous, but it's better than not hearing Regina's voice.
Her voice is a soothing lullaby.
A sensual siren song.
Lulling me to sleep or to my death...either way, my head and heart are in her hands.
A sane person, at this point, would stop calling and texting. That's what you're going to want to do. Please do the stopping thing.
Naturally, the logical part of my brain, the part buried deep within my psyche and misfiring every chance it was granted to take a shot at running things, told me I should stop calling and texting Regina. But I have lost all semblance of personal agency.
You must do better.
Or you'll end up with a Tinker Bell in your face.
Tinker Bell: "It looks like you were crying."
Me: "Bye, Tinker Bell."
Before I could shove her out my room, Tinker Bell flashed a desperate set of puppy dog eyes. Imploring.
Did she have no choice in the matter like me?
Why am I so easily cowed?
Tinker Bell: "I didn't mean to pry about what happened in my aunt's office. But it's necessary to ask: Did you read her letter? About me being your peer monitor?
Me: "You mean my ankle monitor."
Tinker Bell sensed I was right back on that cliff's edge with my anger, and groped for a subject change.
Tinker Bell: "You don't have to talk about such private things, really. I'm sorry. It was not my place to ask about the Weakening. I hope you can see past that initial failing of mine. I really do want to help you, Emma. I'm not a cop with the Department of Magic Safety Enforcement or Reul's shill or your enemy. I like helping other students because the magic that we deal with in our everyday lives is amazing but also overwhelming and not without consequence."
I wanted to believe her. I really did. I didn't.
But, I am not in a position to fight her. While she didn't do anything close to what her aunt did with that Weakening, she did cull my need to lash out. I wasn't openly hostile but still very keen on guarding myself as always.
Me: "So, how does this work? You pop up whenever you want, I call you, or what?"
Tinker Bell: "You decide as long as it's once a day for at least thirty minutes."
Me: "In that case, right now counts for today. No offense, but I want this over and done."
A genuine smile crested her lips as Tinker Bell finally sat in my desk chair, crossed her legs at the knee, and cupped her knee in her hands.
I opted to plunk down on my bed. Next to my phone. Rolled my knees to my chest. Stared at her with dead eyes. It unnerved her for a moment. She composed herself and continued to offer her services.
Tinker Bell: "Okay. Why don't I start by taking a look at your class schedule. See if we can't figure out a way to make it work were you more readily attend classes. Maybe it's a logistics problem?"
It's not. But Tinker Bell's no psychiatrist. I don't rock therapy. We aren't friends. I'm not going to tell her about Regina.
And there are two very specific reasons to hate my revised schedule: Mr. Gold and Zelena Mills.
Gold because he's a dick and I have two sessions with him on A days.
Zelena because she's Regina's twenty-three year old crabby sister who assigns three times the normal going rate in homework than any other teacher on campus. She doesn't know I sex up her younger sister Regina until Regina's stupid and breathless and sweaty and dead dead, but Zelena would kill me if she discovered the truth. I'm on her shit list. I usually snore in the back row of her class. On several occasions I have flipped her the bird.
I showed Tinker Bell the goods:
Student Schedule for EMMA SWAN
Comments: This is a copy of your revised school schedule effective immediately. Please be aware that hours, teachers, locations, and classrooms are subject to change. Any recent changes in class scheduling are highlighted in bold.
Term: SEMESTER 1
01 United States Perspectives in Shapeshifter Studies, PROF: Graham Humbert, RM: S1-200
02 Year 12 Runes: Agrabahian and Elvish Runes, PROF: The Apprentice, RM: P-82
03 Advanced Principles of Dark Magic & Arcana, PROF: Mr. Gold, RM: B1-235
04 Potions IV: Light & Dark Magic Augmentation, PROF: Zelena Mills, RM: A2-230
05 Investigative Magic: From Locator Spells to Portal Spells, PROF: Merlin, RM: P-80
06 Master Wand Construction & Repair: Artisan Wand Design, PROF: Geppetto, W-01
07 Topics in Magical Law: Dark Magic Domestic Policy, PROF: Nimue, RM: B1- 106
08 Senior Seminar Independent Study Lab, PROF: Mr. Gold, RM: TBD
Tinker Bell coughed and then lifted her gaze to meet mine.
Tinker Bell: "You have really impressive classes. Especially the wand course. Neat."
Her face sported a megawatt smile. As if we had been the best of friends for years chowing down on froyo.
A part of me was flattered she implied that I wasn't an idiot. I'm failing at school because I'm lazy - albeit also heartbroken - not because I'm dumb. Which, I know, sounds dumb. But, at the moment, I had a huge chip on my shoulder and needed answers.
Regina was ignoring me, but Tinker Bell was right here in front of me. Claiming she wanted to help. I wanted to push Tinker Bell's boundaries. Test the limits of her sincerity. There is always a limit. Nothing is ever free or done surrendering all of one's self without wanting something in return. At least, not in my vast experience as someone for whom nothing comes without a price tag attached.
Me: "Can I ask you something personal?"
She lifted herself from my chair and quickly sat next to me on my bed. The mattress springs provided a springy bounce at the suddenness of her appearance. She bobbed up and down as if jumping on a trampoline. It was the weirdest reaction to a question ever because in no way had I given her any indication that I wanted her that close to me again. Still, she knew I wouldn't protest.
Am I that desperate for closeness it can be seen or sensed from a mile away?
Tinker Bell: "Sure. Always, Emma."
Uh-huh.
Me: "How do you feel about me being, you know?"
Tinker Bell: "A dark magic wielder?"
Me: "Yeah."
Tinker Bell: "I answered that question when you first allowed me into your room and almost sparked up."
I couldn't help but grin. She was slowly becoming more than what I expected. Nudging me to revise my judgment of her. Calculated tactic on her part or not, my defensive flag wasn't at full mast.
Me: "Sparked up?"
Tinker Bell: "Let your power go nuclear. It doesn't scare me, Emma. I'm not here to judge you. There are protection wards all over the school. You know I placed one on your room, and it was more to help you than me. I can show how to cast ones of your own sometime, if you want. I even know a few wards my aunt does not."
Now, that last bit really piqued my interest.
I tossed her an arched eyebrow. One that would have done a skeptical but not unimpressed Regina proud: Are you shitting me right now girl?
To her credit, Tinker Bell simply smiled. A smile that was increasingly becoming something I wanted to see more of, honestly. Only because I hadn't made anyone smile in three days. Her smile wasn't contagious... yet. Just, um, needed.
Me: "How do the two of you know the anti-dark voodoo stuff? I didn't see any courses offered on how to talk potential Dark Ones down from the ledge."
Tinker Bell: "I'm sure you would concur that many important life lessons and skills aren't learned in a classroom. Your dark magic, just like your light magic, is innate within you, so is my... ability to steer you away from the dark. To help you wrap it up safely in your light. It's a genetic deposition and a carefully honed nascent skill."
Me: "Kept under wraps."
Tinker Bell: "Shared on a need to know basis."
Me: "Is it like with shapeshifters and people like me? You know, monitored?"
Her comforting deposition turned wry and fidgety. She straightened non-existing creases in her perfect uniform shirt. My eyes inadvertently outlined the sides of her breasts as her fingers smoothed over them, and I quickly shot my gaze toward my computer monitor perched on my desk across from us.
It's awkward to sit side-by-side and so close to someone you aren't trying to bed when you're on your own bed. For me at least. I felt pervy just thinking about her in that capacity. It was the furthest thing from my own desires and yet a product of how... people who were not Lily had treated me my entire life.
Tinker Bell: "In order for this peer mentorship to work optimally we should have an understanding. I'm not like you or a shifter. I can only use my power for good. I don't have a choice in that regard, and I'm ecstatic about that aspect of it."
Me: "But not happy about the part where you have to help people even when you don't want to."
Tinker Bell: "Like I said before, I genuinely want to help people. It's my life's calling. But, yes, it's my life's calling, so..."
Trapped like me, in a way. And, because I understood having your back against a wall, even one as pleasant as being able to do good in the world, I didn't want to press her any further about how she felt about her predicament. The universe knows I hated it when people pressed me for private details I did not want to divulge.
Me: "So, any pointers to offer on dealing with Mr. Gold? I mean, I've earned most of my recent demerits for skipping his class."
Tinker Bell: "Don't skip his class or his seminar ever again."
Me: "Right. Avoid expulsion. Got the memo."
Tinker Bell: "You transferred to SMAI over the summer and aren't one of his tight-lipped regular students, so I guess you don't know about him."
Me: "I've been to a few of his classes. I know he's an asshole."
She chuckled, but it was a nervous one. One made when you aren't exactly sure how to broach a difficult or painful subject with someone - especially if you aren't able to forecast their reaction - but must do so nonetheless.
In a lightening fast motion, her face became eerily serious. Almost if she had been two different people sitting on my bed at the same time. She held up an erect index finger as if to enumerate her point. A finger that meant 'stop' and 'wait a moment' and 'shut the hell up.'
Tinker Bell: "He's much more than that, Emma. He is dark magic. A bonafide Dark One. A strong one. In fact, the strongest my family has ever encountered."
I leaned forward and folded over my waist. Wanted to wrap myself into a cocoon. Sensory overload. Just so much information compacted in that reveal. My brain melted. I have never known a true Dark One. Didn't know until this moment how much I wanted to know one. And it's Mr. Gold.
Tinker Bell, definitely the opposite of shy at this point and like a caring mother trying to soothe a stomach ache - because one was definitely threatening to stir within me - rubbed my back until her movements registered in my brain and finally feathered out to the rest of my body. I jerked upright and scooted a few inches away from her. Looked her square in her eyes.
Her look, swirling in eyes as green like mine but purer, embodied all the true caring affection existing in the world. They actually twinkled the little devils.
It centered me.
It unraveled me.
I quickly looked away. No one has looked at me with such warmth.
Except Regina. But...
When Regina did it, it was immediately followed by lascivious underpinnings. Well, one time something else coated her eyes for an infinitesimal moment before the lust, but she shoved it so deep down inside herself I have never seen it again and didn't have the chance to identify it when I saw it. It was like she was ashamed of it.
My breaths had morphed into an asthmatic grappling for air and I tried to steady them. I summoned the nerve to glance at Tinker Bell again. No words were exchanged but I knew she was saying "It's okay. I'm here. Breathe." The voice in my head was hers. I listened to it. Calmed my breathing. My chest rising and falling with grace.
It would require ten lifetimes to wrap my head around her revelation. A definite game changer. A real full-on Dark One. Right under my nose! Had I been so blinded by distaste and boredom and anger and pain that I couldn't sense someone like me - stronger than me - around me? Yes.
It reflected poorly on my ability to navigate this school and the real world. I always prided myself on being able to size up a situation when it came to survival. The streets of East Storybrooke were the ultimate hard knock life teacher. So I thought.
I could hear Reul's sanctimonious voice in my head telling me 'this is the part where you start giving a fuck.' Because it was. Deadly effective pixie powers and a real bonafide Dark One in the wild, well, in my school. What the hell is this school?
Before I could even begin to wrap my head over the true depth of what Tinker Bell stated, my phone chimed.
Me: "Do you mind if I-?"
Tinker Bell: "I can map out some ideas for you and Mr. Gold's class."
Bless her heart she didn't push for my undivided attention. Didn't ask me what I was thinking or feeling. Didn't lecture me. Didn't ask me to ignore my call in favor of peer tutoring and war planning.
My heart had stopped beating, and a choking sensation gripped my body. My eyes wanted to see nothing else in this world, in this lifetime, than Regina's name in my message notifications bar.
Tempting fate, I shot a furtive glance at my lit lock-screen where a picture of Regina, blowing a kiss of all things to do, taunted me with its perfectness.
Its promise.
I missed the feel of her soft, soft lips against my forehead. Yes, I missed her chaste kisses most of all. The ones that told me she thought I was delicate, sweet, and hers. Worthy of her time. Her care. Her love.
All the fury and pain that had coursed through my veins over the past three days, pumping to my major organs instead of blood, making my stomach cramp, my bladder betray my desire to remain in bed, my throat contract from dryness, my heart sink into that hell hole over and over again disintegrated. Replaced by oxygenated blood. My nerves had cooled under Tinker Bell's touch and my mounting hope - my treacherous hope - that Regina had forgiven me for whatever slight I committed against her the last time we were together (that I can't for the life of me place.)
But the text wasn't from Regina.
RED FLAG: YOUR BEST AND MOST TRUSTED FRIEND TELLS YOU TO DUMP HER
The hell hole in my heart rented open, but the pain was dulled a bit by who had actually texted me: Lily.
Lily: Sup bitch!
This is a good time as any to tell you that Lily and I are pretty blunt with each other. Blame our childhood environments. Or our new adult hormones. Probably a combination of both.
I don't see Lily often; she's in-and-out of trouble more than there are stars in the sky. She usually calls me out of the blue from East Storybrooke's juvey center, shifter ward. Lately she seems to be on the up-and-up because her texts have been from her own phone.
She's a dragon shapeshifter, but has never shifted in front of me. I don't know why she hasn't shifted in my presence because there were a lot of designated "shifter safe spots" in the bad part of Storybrooke where we lived, usually near liquor and weapons shops (safe = huge misnomer.) I can't think of Lily in any other way than her being someone I love unconditionally. But, something in her, I think, wouldn't vibe with my dark magic. Shifters are naturally distrustful of it. In the ancient past dark magic was used to control them, and in the 60s to subdue them during civil rights riots.
Me: It's like fuck-all-to-two o'clock in the aft. Where are you?
Lily: Bouncing on your dad's balls.
I chuckle and swing my legs back and forth over the edge of my bed. Even though I wished it was Regina texting me, Lily instantly put me at ease. Made me feel like a kid again. Always safe with her even when surrounded by the worst circumstances.
Tinker Bell didn't lift her eyes from her iPad, but from the corners of my eyes I saw a smile grace her face. She's ever the competent worker bee, and I appreciated how she allowed me to do my own thing. If they aren't paying her for her thirty minutes with me, then they should. She's earned recompense and then some.
I felt she deserved an explanation.
Me: "It's my best friend from ESH."
Tinker Bell: "No worries, Emma. Really."
Me: Tell him I said thanks for giving me up for adoption the day I was born before ramming my best friend eighteen years later. Okay, so be serious, are you ever coming to visit me? Shit is hitting the fan for me.
Lily: Dude, I didn't tell you? I'm on some no-admittance list there or something. Even if I could visit, I don't have the coins for the bus. Last time I checked, you have a C-A-R. Pick me up. Let's wreck shit up.
Me: Look, all you had to say was no.
Lily: Let's hit The Jolly Roger tonight. Friday so you know Killian will hook up drinks. I'll listen to you bitch harp about how good you have it at that snotty school of yours.
The Jolly Roger bar is owned and operated by our friend Killian's dad. Which is amazing for two reasons:
I get to see Killian. After Lily and me, Killian's the coolest kid from East Storybrooke. He has this total bad boy glam image: a lot of tight black leather, spiked jewelry, kick-ass boots, actual freaking sword and sheath combo, eyeliner - Regina called him 'captain guyliner' without ever meeting the guy simply because I mentioned liking the emo pirate look on him.
His dad's staff serves underage troubled youths alcohol so long as we don't get visibly drunk. And we pay extra for our illegal drinks. He'll probably make enough money to send Killian to college on the underage crowd alone. That is, if Killian gives up his dream of joining the navy.
It's so worth it to chill at the JR. But, I was bummed about Regina. Had to deal with being monitored at school, which I was certain would somehow extend to any off campus stuff I did across town - the bad part of town. I didn't feel like drinking. Wallowing in my pain, yes, but not getting drunk. Let's just say beer and dark magic fit together like oil and water.
Me: Let me think about it.
Lily: Her again?
Me: What?
Lily: You have two eyes. They both work. Thus, you read my text.
Me: Yes... we're... you know.
Lily: I do. And you know that you have to end that shit. You're always morose as fuck when I speak to you. It's always because of her. I'm all for a great hit and run in the sack, but you're the only one getting ran over. I'm worried about you.
Me: Don't be. I've got this.
Lily: You mean she's got you under her thumb because you love her.
No immediate answer from my end. It hurts to be known that well by someone who isn't the person you want to know you that well.
Me: I'm fine.
Lily: She's stringing you along. You gotta cut the chord before you get in too deep and get massively hurt.
Too late. I've been 'in too deep' and, sadly, 'massively hurt' for a while. I hung my head low into the crook of my neck, exposing each muscle in the back of my neck slowly, and not without dark tension rolling over each one.
Almost, as if tethered to my feelings and on some sort of queue, Tinker Bell reached over and squeezed my hand in a show of strength and solidarity. Our fingers weren't interlaced. It was the hand holding where a person's entire hand covers your fingers perpendicularly.
Good thing I'm quick at texting with one thumb. No magic required.
Me: I gotta go. I'm setting up some work with my tutor.
Lily did not need to know I was being monitored. I didn't want her to worry even more about me. She's got enough to stress over.
Lily: Is she cute?
Me: She's here to work with me not sleep with me.
Lily: Best way to get over someone is to get under someone else.
Me: Thanks mom.
Lily: Ah, you're welcome, sweetie.
Me: Hang with you soon. Promise.
Lily: If you need me, you CALL me. You need to hear my voice when you're down and out and I need to hear yours, okay?
Me: K.
Tinker Belle cleared her throat and released my hand.
Closed the gap between us.
Offered a small smile when my eyes met hers.
I had two people who cared about me. For their own reasons. Both genuine. Love and concern.
But, neither of them were Regina. I wanted her to care. Any reason was acceptable.
The tiny smile I shined at Tinker Bell was not disingenuous. Just more of a mask. I owed Tinker Bell something in return for her kindness other than my sorrow.
After several moments stuck in our pose, she finally spoke in a firm but friendly tone.
Tinker Bell: "I have an idea about how to handle Mr. Gold. Want to hear it?"
If it meant she would stay with me a bit longer, I would have listened to her recite the entire US Constitution. I didn't want to be alone. Slip back into my funk. I liked the smell of honeysuckle and lavender. Not as much as apples and cinnamon. But, Regina was not near. And Tinker Bell was.
Not one second after Tinker Bell promised to provide an answer to one of my multitudinous problems involving school, and, you know, the future of my dark soul, I received another text.
We'll trudge along to Step Three.
Because this time the text was from Regina.
