I woke up on a soft bed, which confused me instantly. Why would there be a bed at school? Maybe a cot in the nurse's office, but certainly not a bed.
I felt slightly lightheaded, but I tried to sit up anyway. That's when I saw a guy sitting on a stool next to the bed. The first thing I noticed were his emerald eyes, filled with concern. His hair was brown and swept away from his forehead by a widow's peak.
My mouth felt dry as I stared at him. He looked just like…
"Neal?" I croaked.
Confusion spread across his face, but I guess Kel had rubbed off on him a little bit, because it was quickly shoved aside. He gave a jerky nod.
I think I started to blush. Very embarrassing, but who wouldn't get at least a little flushed to meet the man of her fantasies? So I looked down. At bed sheets.
"Am I in your bed?" I gasped. I scrambled to get off of the tangled blankets.
"Oh, don't do that," he told me, reaching over to steady me in case I fell. "I saw you lying in the hall, blacked out, so I brought you in here. Please, sit down. I know you must feel horrible."
I sat. Now here was something weird. Besides being in Neal's bedroom, which was strange enough. He wasn't acting like the Neal I had read about. Although I guess I didn't really know how he would normally react in a situation like this because it wasn't a natural occurrence, or one that Tamora Pierce ever thought to write about.
Neal looked down at his hands, and then back up at me. He opened his mouth, as if to speak, closed it, than opened it again
"I have no idea who you are," he told me.
I tried to jump up again, but he shot me a glare and I quickly stopped. "I'm sorry. I'm Taina," I stammered.
Neal was smiling. In a good-natured way, about how I tripped over my words, I hoped. He held out his had for me to shake (which I did, my heart leaping at the touch of his skin. No, not because I was in love with him, but because he wasn't supposed to be real. I was glad he was, but it was strange. He was supposed to be fictional, and here I was meeting him. It was way cooler than meeting a celebrity.) and introduced himself.
"I'm Neal, er, Nealan of Queenscove, officially. But you know that, don't you." It was a statement, not a question. "And where are you from, that you know so much about me?"
"America. I read about you. In a book. Well, of course. And it was more about Kel, but," I was rambling, I knew, so I stopped, finishing lamely, "I'm not from here."
I think Neal almost laughed. "I could tell." He gestured at my clothes, which I realized screamed that I was a foreigner. How many Tortallians waltz around in blue jeans and tennis shoes?
My cheeks were definitely red by now. "Perhaps I should get some different clothes," I squeaked."
Before Neal had a chance to reply, there was a banging on his door. "Hold that thought," he pointed at me, and bounded over to greet his visitor.
The door opened to reveal a tall girl with very short, light brown hair. Her arms were crossed, her tone stern.
"Neal. You didn't come to any classes this morning."
"I noticed," he told her dryly. "Really, Kel, if you must speak, could you not tell me things I already know?"
"You said you were going to your room for a moment. To change your tunic." Kel continued.
"Which I did. Can't you see? It's all clean, no clumsy jam stain in sight." He smiled brightly.
"You said nothing about making a whole new one."
"Jam stain? I did? Where?" Neal twisted around, pretending to search for the second stain. It was a very comical picture. A giggle escaped my lips.
Kel saw me then. Sitting on Neal's bed. Which was not one of the best places for me to be. Apparently, they were both still pages, so Kel had a crush on Neal.
She looked at me for a moment, her Yamani mask never fading, then turned again to Neal, worry in her voice. "What happened here?"