The Crystal Mirror
Chapter 3: Will's Sin
William Parry sat behind a desk, watching the teacher with bored eyes. He'd ridden atop a polar bear, killed men, and lost two fingers. With all the adventures he'd been on, he shouldn't have to go to school. But he knew he needed to. He had to be successful to support his mother.
Speaking of which, the elderly piano lady he had left her in the care of hadn't given away his secret! No. She had kept his mother perfectly safe, and had made sure she was never seen by anyone, and no one got suspicious about why the old lady's time was so tied up. And all of that work when her husband was ill! Yes, the mister had been unlucky enough to catch the influenza and it had been really bad on him, considering he was not seventy-one years old. But he had survived. And when Will had learned all of that, he had felt like things were finally going to be good and safe…
But they'd never be. The police were still after him and he had to go to school under a new name: William Belacqua. Yes, he had taken Lyra's old name and made his own, sort of a reminder that he was still hers and she was still his. A deep sadness, timeless and intense, hit him and he worked hard not to tear up during class.
A paper ball suddenly sailed across the room, making a whooshing sound, and hit him in the back of the head. He jumped, for he was still as paranoid as could be, considering everything that had happened to him. With frantic eyes, he looked up. The teacher hadn't noticed. In a slow manner, he turned around, searching every face for the culprit who had attacked him. A blonde girl sat loosely in her desk, grinning. She pointed at the paper ball on the floor by his desk.
Will raised a brow inquisitively before bending low to pick it up. He folded it out, laying it flat on his wooden desk to see the words scribbled in pink pen ink. It read:
Meet me in the restroom after class. In the guy's restroom.
Will understood at once and an idea hit him. He flipped open a small box of pens he'd laid on the ground to pick up a blue pen. Then he put the pen to the paper and wrote underneath the pink ink. Making sure the teacher was preoccupied by a long and complicated problem on the chalkboard; he tossed the paper back to her.
Okay.
The girl beamed in happiness, and Will sat straighter, eager for the bell to ring, signaling the end of the class. It did and he scurried out of the class and to his locker. There, he threw his old books in, and took out the materials for the next class. With his blue pen, he forged the previous teacher's handwriting into a late-note on a loose piece of paper. He expected to be late.
Then, he placed his books at the foot of his locker, and glancing right and left, walked casually into the boy's restroom.
He poked his head in, and seeing no one, walked all the way into the cold area. And once more, he was attacked. The blonde burst out of one of the stalls, and rammed into his chest, briefly knocking the air out of him despite her puny size. She pushed him into the nearest stall. Once there, she shoved him onto the closed toilet seat and pressed her lips to his.
Will was surprised but nonetheless, he kissed back, tasting her lips greedily. He wrapped his arms around her and let her take control, planting random kisses here and there along his neck before touching his moist lips once more. They were making out.
But something was wrong with Will. She didn't taste like Lyra. The rich bubblegum lip-gloss she had heavily coated on her mouth couldn't compare to Lyra's infinitely soft lips. And he felt strange. He shouldn't have done this. Yes, he had wondered what it would be like to kiss another girl, but Lyra was so much better. The only one for him. He shouldn't have even tried this, whatever this was.
Suddenly and brutally, Will shoved the girl off of him and slammed the stall door open. He marched out. The girl stood dumbfounded. What had just happened?
Will left the restroom entirely and walked to the sink. There, he repeated in washing his mouth out over and over again, trying to remember Lyra's lips, Lyra's love. And he was disgusted with himself and the girl for even trying to please him the way Lyra had. He was Lyra's Will. And he'd never belong to anyone else.
Hot tears began to roll down his face. Why was it that when he was happy – finally happy – he had to have it torn away from him? He felt like someone had reached into his chest and torn his heart out, throwing it to the ground while it still dumbly reverberated.
Upset, Will spat out the last of the wretched lip-gloss that had entered his mouth. He walked to his locker where his books lay, untouched, and picked them up. He did the locker's combination by memory and swiftly pulled out his rucksack, stuffing books inside.
The bell rang one more, a long unfeeling sound. Will barely heard it. He scowled and slung the pack over his shoulder. He'd ditch school today. With that, he walked right out the front door, not caring if the invisible cameras had caught him on tape.
***
Will sat, cross-legged, on the bench at the Botanic Garden. He knew his Lyra would not be there. The day they had agreed on had already passed to Will's displeasure. Kirjava, his daemon, met him there.
Since Will had began to attend school once more, Kirjava had stayed at the Botanic Garden, hiding in the lush greenery and hunting rats in the alleyway outside of it. If he were to bring her to school, he didn't know what would happen. Certainly nothing good. So she hid. And they didn't spend much time together.
"I felt it. You kissed someone?" she accused impassively, lying on the bench beside Will, tail draped over the side comfortably. She was a subtle feline, various shades of black and blue and others scattered across her long fur. She'd settled that way so long ago.
"I feel horrible about it." said Will in a hard tone. "She wasn't Lyra. She was no one. I shouldn't have even tried it."
"Yes, you should have." Replied Kirjava decisively. "Otherwise, we wouldn't have found out that Lyra was the only option."
Will cast a sorrowful look down at his daemon, her tail tip now flicking back and forth over the ground. "And I'll never see Lyra again. I should have… I should have…"
"You should have what?" inquired Kirjava delicately.
"Something!" cried Will in despair. "I should have done something. I can never love again. It's horrible. Too horrible…"
"You can love, Will. You love your mother, don't you?" said Kirjava flatly.
"That's different."
"It's not."
They sat in silence for a long while.
Then something happened.
Will hadn't realized it, but as he spiraled into depression, he became drowsy and started to doze off, Kirjava watching him with large eyes as his head fell to the side.
CRASH!
Will leaped up off the bench, suddenly alert; his fists raised high, his chest falling up and down frantically. He whirled around, his feet rotating him. A patch of air was full of life. There were sparks flying from it and that same crashing sound, rough and loud like shattering glass. And then there was a patch in the air, like the kind the subtle knife used to make and out came a young girl. She tripped on the ground and collided into Will, sending him to the ground.
There, he lay, bewildered, the girl on top of him. The smell of hazel filled his nostrils and he knew at once who the miracle on top of him was. He quickly looked over her shoulder to see the window sealing itself. It was quick and in the blink of an eye, it was gone.
"Oh… Sorry. Did you see that? Well, um…"
"Lyra…?"
The girl, surprised, finally looked at his face and he looked at hers. She gasped. And he breathed deeply.
Lyra looked exactly the same, but so different. Her face was narrow and she was more gorgeous then she had been when she was twelve, if that was possible. Pantalaimon was nearby and he could feel him rubbing his fur up against Kirjava, uttering a throaty purr.
"Oh, Will! It's you! It's really you!"
"How… How did you—"
She cut him off, desperately pushing her soft lips to his. And Will kissed back, tasting her lips with such gratefulness that she would never understand. Their faces were pressed together, small tears rolling down both teenager's faces in gratitude and love. Finally they broke apart, both longing to do it again.
"Lyra, my love…"
"Oh, Will…"
