It was peaceful in Beau's room tonight. Even the fitful rain, which usually made him uneasy, did not disturb him. Despite the pain, I was peaceful, too—calmer than I'd been in my own home with my father's arms around me. Beau mumbled my name in his sleep, as he often did, and smiled as he said it.
In the morning, Charlie mentioned his cheerful mood over breakfast, and it was my turn to smile. At least, if nothing else, I made him happy, too.
He climbed into my car quickly today, with a wide, eager smile, seeming just as hungry to be together as I was.
"How did you sleep?" I asked him.
"Fine. How was your night?"
I smiled. "Pleasant."
He pursed his lips. "Can I ask what you did?" I could imagine what my level of interest would be if I had to spend eight hours unconscious, totally unaware of him. But I wasn't ready to answer that question now... or maybe ever.
"No. Today is still mine."
He sighed and rolled his eyes. "I don't think there's anything I haven't told you."
"Tell me more about your mother."
It was one of my favorite subjects, because it was obviously one of his.
"Okay. Um, my mom is kind of... wild, I guess? Not like a tiger is wild, like a sparrow, like a deer. She just, doesn't do well in cages? My gran—who was totally normal, by the way, and had no idea where my mom came from—used to call her a will-o'-the-wisp. I got the feeling that raising my mom through her teenage years was no cakewalk. Anyway, it's pretty hard for her to stay in one place very long. Getting to wander off with Phil with no sure end destination in mind... well, I think it's the happiest I've ever seen her. She tried really hard for me, though. Made do with weekend adventures and constantly switching jobs. I did what I could to free her from all the mundane stuff. I imagine Phil will do the same. I feel like... kind of a bad son. Because I'm a little relieved, you know?" He made an apologetic face, turning his palms up. "She doesn't have to stay in place for me anymore. That's a weight off. And then Charlie... I never thought about him needing me, but he really does. That house is too empty for him."
I nodded thoughtfully, sifting through this mine of information. I wished I could meet this woman who had shaped so much of Beau's character. Part of me would have preferred that Beau had an easier, more traditional childhood—that he could have gotten to be the child. But he wouldn't have been the same person, and truly, he didn't seem resentful in any way. He liked to be the caretaker, liked to be needed.
Perhaps this was the real secret as to why he was drawn to me. Had anyone ever needed him more?
I left him at his classroom door, and the morning passed much as the day before. Archie and I sleepwalked our way through Gym. I watched Beau's face through Jeremy Stanley's eyes again, noting, as the human boy did, how very little of Beau seemed to be in the classroom at all.
I wonder why Beau doesn't want to talk about it? Jeremy wondered. Keeping her to himself, I guess. Unless he was telling the truth before, and there's nothing actually happening. His mind ran over Beau's denials on Wednesday morning—It's not like that, when Jeremy had asked about kissing—and his inference that Beau had looked disappointed.
That would be like torture, Jeremy thought now. Look but don't touch.
The word startled me.
Like torture? Obviously an exaggeration, but... would such a thing actually cause Beau pain—no matter how minor? Surely not, knowing as he did the realities of the situation. I frowned and caught Archie's questioning glance. I shook my head at him.
He looks happy enough, Jeremy was thinking, watching Beau as he stared through the clerestory windows with unfocused eyes. He must have been lying to me. Or there have been new developments.
Oh! Archie's sudden stillness alerted me at the same time as his mental exclamation. The picture in his mind was of the cafeteria at some near future date and...
Well, it's about time! he thought, breaking into a huge grin.
The pictures developed—Archie standing behind my shoulder in the cafeteria today, across the table from Beau. The very brief introduction. How it began was not yet fixed. It wavered, dependent on some other factor. But it would be soon, if not today.
I sighed, absently swatting the birdie back across the net. It flew better than it would have had my attention been focused; I scored a point as the coach blew her whistle to end class. Archie was already moving toward the door.
Don't be such a baby. It's not much. And I can already see that you won't stop me.
I closed my eyes and shook my head. "No, it won't be very much," I agreed quietly as we walked together.
"I can be patient. Baby steps."
I rolled my eyes.
It was always a relief when I could leave the secondary vantage points behind and just see Beau for myself, but I was still thinking about Jeremy's assumptions when Beau came through the classroom door. He smiled a wide, warm smile, and it looked to me, too, like he was very happy. I shouldn't worry about impossibilities when they weren't bothering him.
There was one line of questions that I had been reluctant to open thus far. But with Jeremy's thoughts still in my head, I was suddenly more curious than I was averse.
We sat at what was now our usual table, and he picked at the food I'd gotten for him—I'd been quicker than him today.
"Tell me about your first date," I said.
His eyes got bigger, and his cheeks flushed. He hesitated.
"You're not going to tell me?"
"I'm just not sure... what actually counts."
"Put the qualifications at their lowest setting," I suggested.
He stared toward the ceiling while he contemplated. "Well, then I guess that would be McKayla—a different McKayla," he said quickly when my expression changed. "She was my square-dancing partner in the sixth grade. I was invited to her birthday party—it was a movie." He smiled. "The second Mighty Ducks. I was the only one who showed up. Later, people said it was a date. I don't know who started that rumor."
I'd seen the school pictures in his father's house, so I had a mental reference for eleven-year-old Beau. It sounded like things weren't so different for him then. "That's perhaps setting the bar a little too low."
He grinned. "You said the lowest setting."
"Continue, then."
His lips twisted to the side as he considered. "A few friends were going to the ice rink with some girls. They needed me to even up the numbers. I wouldn't have gone if I'd realized that it meant I was matched up with Bree Merchant." He shuddered delicately. "And of course, I figured out pretty quickly that ice skating was a bad idea. My injuries were minor, but the plus side was that I got to sit by the snack bar and read for the rest of the night." He smiled, almost... triumphantly.
"Shall we skip to an actual date?"
"You mean like, someone asked me out in advance and then we went someplace alone together?"
"That sounds like a workable definition."
He smiled the same triumphant smile. "Sorry, then, I've got nothing."
I frowned. "No one ever asked you out on a date before you came here? Really?"
"I'm not totally sure. Is it a date? Is it just friends hanging out?" He shrugged. "Not that it mattered much. I never had time for either. After a while the word gets around, and no one asks again."
"Were you actually busy? Or making excuses like you do here?"
"Actually busy," he insisted, a little offended. "Running a house is time-consuming, and I usually had a part-time job, too, not to mention school. If I'm going to get to college, I'm going to need a full-ride scholarship, and—"
"Hold that thought," I interrupted. "Before we move on to the next subject, I'd like to finish this one. If you hadn't been so busy, were any of these invitations ones you would have liked to accept?"
He tilted his head to the side. "Not really. I mean, other than just to have a night out. They weren't particularly interesting girls."
"And other girls? Who didn't ask?"
He shook his head, his clear eyes appearing to hide nothing. "I wasn't paying that much attention."
My eyes narrowed. "So you never met anyone you wanted?"
He sighed again. "Not in Phoenix."
We stared at each other for a moment while I processed the fact that, just as he was my first love, according to this I was also his first... infatuation at the very least. This alignment pleased me in some strange way, but also troubled me. Surely this was a warped, unhealthy way for him to begin his romantic life. And then there was the knowledge that he would be both first and last for me. It would not be the same for a human heart.
"I know it's not my day, but—"
"No, it's not."
"C'mon," he insisted. "I just spilled my entire embarrassing lack-of-dating history."
I smiled. "Mine is quite similar, actually—minus the ice-skating and trick birthday parties. I haven't been paying much attention, either."
He looked like he didn't quite believe me, but it was true. I'd also had a few offers I'd turned down. Not quite the same kind of offers, I admitted to myself, picturing Taran's pouting face.
"Which college would you like to go to?" I asked.
"Um..." He shook his head just slightly, as if to adjust to the new subject. "Well, I used to think ASU was the most practical, because I could live at home. But with Mom moving around now, I guess my field is more open. It will have to be a state school—something reasonable—even with a scholarship. When I first came here... well, I was glad that Charlie doesn't live close enough to Washington State to make that practical."
"Are you disparaging our fine state's Cougars?"
"Nothing against the institution—just the weather."
"And if you could go anywhere—if the cost were no object—where would you go?"
While he considered my question about this hypothetical future, I tried to picture a future that I could live with. Beau at twenty, at twenty-two, twenty-four... how long before he outgrew me, unchanging as I was? I would accept that time limit if it meant that he could be healthy and human and happy. If only I could make myself safe for him, right for him, make myself fit into that happy picture for every second of the time that he allowed me.
I wondered again how I could make this happen—be with him without negatively impacting his life. Stay in Persephone's spring, keep him safe from my underworld.
It was easy to see that he wouldn't be happy in my usual haunts. Obviously. But as long as he wanted me, I would follow him. It would mean many slow days indoors, but that was such a negligible price, it was barely worth noting.
"I'd have to do some research. Most of the fancy schools are in the snow zone." He grinned. "I wonder what colleges in Hawaii are like?"
"Lovely, I'm sure. And after school? What then?" I realized how important it was for me to know his plans for the future. So I didn't derail them. So I could shape this unlikely future into the best version to suit him.
"Something with books. I always thought I would teach like—well, not exactly like my mom. If I could... I'd like to teach on a college level somewhere—probably a community college. Elective English classes—so that everyone who's signed up is there because they want to be."
"Is that what you've always wanted?"
He shrugged. "Mostly. I once thought of working for a publisher—as an editor or something." His nose wrinkled. "I did some research. It's a lot easier to get a job as a teacher. Much more practical."
His dreams all had clipped wings—not like those of the usual teenager off to conquer the world. Obviously a product of facing realities long before he should have had to.
He took a bite of his bagel, chewing thoughtfully. I wondered if he was still thinking of the future, or something else. I wondered whether he saw any glimpse of me in that future.
My mind strayed to tomorrow. It should have thrilled me—the idea of a whole day with him. So much time. But I could only think of the moment when he would see what I really was. When I could no longer hide behind my human façade. I tried to imagine his response, and though I was so often wrong when trying to predict his feelings, I knew it could only go two ways. The only valid reaction besides revulsion would be terror.
I wanted to believe that there was a third possibility. That he would forgive what I was as he had done so often in the past. That he would accept me despite everything. But I couldn't picture it.
Would I have the nerve to keep my promise? Could I live with myself if I hid this from him?
I thought of the first time I'd seen Carine in the sun. I was very young then, still obsessed with blood over anything else, but that sight had caught my attention the way little else had. Though I trusted Carine utterly, though I'd already begun to love her, I felt fear. It was all too impossible, too alien. The instinct to defend myself was triggered, and it was several long moments before her calm and reassuring thoughts could have any effect on me. Eventually she talked me into stepping forward myself, to see that the phenomenon did no harm.
And I remembered seeing myself in the brilliant morning light and realizing—more profoundly than I ever had thus far—that I had no relationship at all to my former self. That I was not human.
But it wasn't fair to hide myself from him. It was a lie of omission.
I tried to see him with me in the meadow, what the picture would look like if I weren't a monster. It was such a beautiful, peaceful place. How I wished he could enjoy it with me still there.
Edythe, Archie thought urgently, a hint of panic in his tone that froze me in place.
Suddenly, I was caught up in one of Archie's visions, staring into a bright circle of sunlight. Disorienting, because I'd just been imagining myself and Beau there—the little meadow where no one ever went besides me—so I wasn't sure at first that I was seeing inside Archie's mind and not my own.
But it was different from my own picture—future, not past. Beau stared at me, rainbows dancing across his face, his eyes fathomless. So I was brave enough.
It's the same place, Archie thought, his mind full of a horror that did not match the vision. Tension, perhaps, but horror? What did he mean, the same place?
And then I saw it.
Edythe! Archie protested shrilly. I love him, Edythe!
But he didn't love Beau the way I did. His vision was preposterous. Wrong. He was blinded somehow, seeing impossibilities. Lies.
Not even a half a second had passed. Beau was still chewing, thinking about some mystery I would never know. He wouldn't have seen the quick flash of dread across my face.
It was just an old vision. No longer valid. Everything had changed since then.
Edythe, we have to talk.
There was nothing for Archie and me to talk about. I shook my head ever so slightly, just once. Beau didn't see.
Archie's thoughts were a command now. He shoved the picture I couldn't bear back into the forefront of my mind.
I love him, Edythe. I won't let you just ignore this. We're leaving, and we're going to work this through. I'll give you till the end of the period. Make your excuses—oh!
His totally benign vision from this morning in Gym interrupted his string of orders. The brief introduction. I saw exactly how it would happen now, down to the second. So this offensive, invalid, outdated vision was the catalyst missing before? My teeth clenched together.
Fine. We would talk. I would sacrifice my time with Beau this afternoon to show Archie how wrong he was. In truth, I knew I wouldn't be able to rest until I'd made him see that, made him admit he was off this time.
He saw the future shift as my mind changed. Thank you.
Odd, given the sudden life and death turn to my afternoon, how crushing it was to lose the time I'd counted on. It should be such a small thing—just a few minutes, really.
I tried to shake off the horror that Archie had inflicted on me so that I wouldn't ruin the minutes I had left.
"I should have let you drive yourself today," I said, working hard to keep the desperation out of my voice.
His eyes snapped up to mine. He swallowed. "Why?"
"I'm leaving with Archie after lunch."
"Oh." His face fell. "That's okay, it's not that far of a walk."
I frowned. "I'm not going to make you walk home." Did he really think I would leave him stranded? "We'll go get your truck and leave it here for you."
"I don't have my key with me," he said, and sighed. This was some huge, insurmountable obstacle to him. "I really don't mind walking."
"Your truck will be here, and the key will be in the ignition," I told him. "Unless you're afraid someone might steal it." The sound of his engine was as good as a car alarm. Possibly louder. I forced a laugh at the mental image, but the sound was off.
Beau pursed his lips and his eyes went opaque. "Okay," he said. Was he doubting my abilities?
I tried to smile confidently—I was confident that I could not fail in such a simple task—but my muscles were too tight to manage it correctly. He didn't seem to notice. It looked like he was dealing with his own disappointment.
"So," he said. "Where are you going?"
Archie showed me the answer to Beau's question.
"Hunting." I could hear that my voice was suddenly darker. It was something I would have found time for, regardless. The necessity of this excursion was as frustrating as it was shameful. But I wouldn't lie to him about it.
"If we're going to be alone together tomorrow, I'm going to take whatever precautions I can." I stared into his eyes, wondering if he could see the fear in my own. Archie's vision was overpowering my composure. "You can always cancel, you know." Please, walk away. Don't turn back.
He looked down, his face blanching paler than before. Would he finally listen? Archie's vision would mean nothing if Beau told me now to leave him alone. I knew I could do it, if it was what Beau asked for. My heart felt poised to rip in half.
"No," he whispered, and my heart twisted in another direction. A worse kind of breaking loomed. He stared up at me. "I can't."
"Perhaps you're right," I whispered. Maybe he was, after all, just as bound as I was.
He leaned toward me, his eyes tightening with what looked like concern. "What time tomorrow?"
I took a deep breath, trying to settle myself, to shake off the sense of doom. I forced myself to speak in a lighter tone. "That depends... it's a Saturday. Don't you want to sleep in?"
"No," he shot back immediately.
It made me want to smile. "The same time as usual, then."
He nodded. "Where should I pick you up?"
"I'll come to your place, also as usual."
"Um, it doesn't help with the Charlie situation if an unexplained Volvo is left in the driveway."
I smiled. "I wasn't intending to bring a car."
"How—"
I cut him off. "Don't worry about it. I'll be there, no car. No chance that Charlie will see anything out of the ordinary." My voice turned hard. "And then, if you don't come home, it will be a complete mystery, won't it?"
His face was smooth. "Guess so... Maybe I'll get on the news and everything."
I glared at him—I did not find his joke humorous in the slightest. He scowled back for a moment, and then his face relaxed.
He changed the subject. "What are you hunting tonight?"
It was so strange. On the one hand, he didn't seem to take the danger seriously at all. On the other, he was so calm in accepting the ugliest facets of my life.
"Whatever we find in the park. We aren't going far."
"Why are you going with Archie? Didn't you say he was being annoying?"
Archie was listening intently now.
I frowned. "He's still the most... supportive." There were other words I'd like to say for Archie's benefit, but they would only confuse Beau.
"And the rest of them?" Beau nearly whispered, his voice shifting from curious to anxious. "What are they?" He would be horrified if he knew how easily they could all hear that whisper.
There were also many ways to answer this question. I chose the least frightening. "Incredulous, for the most part." They were definitely that.
His eyes darted to the back corner of the cafeteria, where my family sat. Archie had warned them, and they were all looking elsewhere.
"They don't like me," he guessed.
"That's not it," I quickly countered.
Ha! Royal thought.
"They don't understand why I can't leave you alone," I continued, trying to ignore Roy.
Well, that's true enough.
Beau made a face. "Me, either."
I shook my head, thinking of his ridiculous assumption before—that I didn't care for him as much as he cared for me. I thought I'd explained thim.
"You're not like anyone I've ever known, Beau. You fascinate me."
He looked doubtful. Maybe I needed to be more specific.
"I can't understand that."
I smiled at him. Despite everything on my mind, it was important for him to understand this. "Having the advantages I do..." I brushed one of my fingers casually across my forehead. "I have a better than average grasp of human nature. People are predictable. But you... you never do what I expect. You always take me by surprise."
He glanced away from me, and there was something unsatisfied about his expression. This specific detail had obviously not convinced him.
"That part is easy enough to explain," I continued quickly, waiting for his eyes to return to me. "But there's more..." So much more. "And it's not so easy to put into words—"
Goggle at me, will you, you bat-faced little nuisance?
Beau's face went white. He looked frozen, as though he couldn't look away from the back corner of the room.
I turned quickly and shot Royal a threatening glare, my lips pulling away from my teeth. I hissed quietly at him.
He flashed a glance at me from the corner of his eye, then angled his head away from us both. I looked back to Beau just as he turned to stare at me.
He started it, Royal thought sullenly.
Beau's eyes were huge. "That was definitely dislike."
"I'm sorry about that," I murmured quickly. "He's just worried." It irritated me to have to defend Royal's behavior, but I couldn't think of another way to explain. And at the heart of Royal's hostility, this was the true issue. "You see... it's dangerous for more than just me if, after spending so much time with you so publicly..."
I couldn't finish. Filled with horror and shame, I stared down at my hands—the hands of a monster.
"If?" he prompted.
How could I not answer his now?
"If this ends... badly."
My head fell into my palms. I didn't want to see his eyes as understanding dawned, as he realized what I was saying. For all this time, I'd been trying to earn his trust. And now I'd had to tell him exactly how much I didn't deserve it.
It was right to have him know. This would be the moment when he would walk away. And that was good. My first, instinctive rejection of Archie's panic was wearing off. I couldn't honestly promise Beau that I was no danger to him.
"And you have to leave now?"
I looked up at him slowly.
His face was calm—there was a hint of sorrow in the pucker mark between his brows, but no fear at all. The perfect trust I'd seen when he'd jumped into my car in Port Angeles was evident again in his eyes. Though I didn't deserve it, he still trusted me.
"Yes," I told him.
My answer made him frown. He should have been only relieved to see me go, but instead, he was sad.
I wished I could smooth away the little v between his eyebrows with my fingertip. I wanted him to smile again.
I forced myself to grin at him. "It's probably for the best. We still have fifteen minutes of that wretched movie left to endure in Biology—I don't think I could take any more."
I guessed that this was true—that I would not have been able to endure. That I would have made more mistakes.
He smiled back, and it was obvious that he understood at least part of what I meant.
Then he jumped slightly in his seat, startled.
I heard Archie step up behind me. I was not surprised. I'd seen this part before.
"Archie," I greeted him.
His excited smile was reflected in Beau's eyes.
"Edythe," he responded, copying my tone.
I followed my script.
"Archie, Beau," I said, introducing them as concisely as possible. I kept my eyes on Beau and gestured halfheartedly with one hand. "Beau, Archie."
"Hello, Beau. It's nice to finally meet you."
The emphasis was subtle, but annoying. I shot him a quick glare.
"Um, hey, Archie," Beau answered, his voice unsure.
I won't push my luck, Archie promised. "Are you ready?" he asked me aloud.
As if he didn't know my answer. "Nearly. I'll meet you at the car."
I'll get out of your way now. Thanks.
Beau stared after Archie, a small frown curving his lips downward. When Archie disappeared through the doors, he turned slowly to face me.
"Should I say 'Have fun,' or is that the wrong sentiment?" he asked.
I smiled at him. "'Have fun' works as well as anything."
"Have fun, then," he said, a little forlorn.
"I'll try." But that wasn't true. I would only be missing him while I was away. "And you try to be safe, please." It didn't matter how often I had to say goodbye, the same panic returned whenever I thought of him unprotected.
"Safe in Forks," he mumbled. "What a challenge."
"For you it is a challenge," I pointed out. "Promise."
He sighed, but his smile was good-humored. "I was meaning to deal with the laundry... or is that too hazardous a task? I mean, I could fall in or something." He tried to keep his face serious, and failed. "Okay, okay, I'll do my best."
It was so hard to leave. I made myself stand. He rose to his feet, too.
"I'll see you tomorrow," he sighed.
"It seems like a long time to you, doesn't it?" Strange what a long time it seemed to me, too.
He nodded, dejected.
"I'll be there in the morning," I promised.
Archie was right about this much—I wasn't finished making mistakes. I couldn't stop myself again as I walked over to him and brushed my fingers across the back of his hand. Before I could do any more harm, I turned and left him there.
Archie was waiting in the car.
"Archie—"
First things first. We have an errand to run, don't we?
Pictures of Beau's house flashed through his mind. An empty set of hooks—designed to hold keys—on the kitchen wall. Me in Beau's room, scanning his dresser top and desk. Archie literally following his nose through the front room. Archie again, in a small laundry room, grinning, with a key in his hand.
I drove quickly to Beau's. I would have been able to find the key myself—the smell of metal was easy enough to trace, particularly metal painted with the oils from his fingers—but Archie's way was definitely faster.
The images refined. Archie would go in alone, I saw, through the front door. He decided a dozen different places to look for an extra house key, then located it when he resolved to check under the eaves over the front door.
When we arrived at the house, it took Archie only seconds to follow the course he'd already set for himself. After locking the front door's handle but leaving the deadbolt unlatched as he'd found it, Archie climbed into Beau's truck. The engine grumbled to life with the volume of a thunderclap. There was no one home to notice it now.
The trip back to school was slower, hampered by the maximum speed the old Chevy was able to produce. I wondered how Beau could stand it, but then he seemed to prefer driving slowly. Archie parked in the space my Volvo had left open, and shut the noisy engine off.
I looked at the rusty behemoth, imagining Beau in it. It had survived Taylor's van with barely a scratch, but obviously there were no airbags or crumple zones. I felt my eyebrows pull together.
Archie climbed into my passenger seat.
Here, he thought. He held out a piece of stationery and a pen.
I took them from him. "I'll concede that you're useful."
You couldn't survive without me.
I wrote a brief note, then darted out to leave it on the driver's seat of Beau's truck. I knew there was no real power to the action, but hopefully it would remind him of his promise. It did make me feel just a little bit less anxious.