Chapter Twelve
It was the pain that first shook me awake – like someone was drilling into my skull without the benefit of anesthesia. "Good Lord," I muttered under my breath, stretching my arms over my head and yawning loudly, as I tried to figure out why it felt like fireworks were exploding inside my brain.
Then it all came rushing back to me, like being doused in cold water. I slumped back into bed, defeated.
My parents fighting… Ryan kissing Alexa… the girls deserting me…
How did all of this happen?
One thing was for sure – if the splitting pain in my head was anything to go off of, I was never drinking that much champagne again. I nestled back into the pillows, wincing as the pain intensified with movement, but finally I got back into a comfortable position. Closing my eyes, I let the darkness descend gratefully, wondering if maybe I could fall asleep again and wake up to realize that everything had just been one enormous nightmare brought on by stress and nerves.
Loud thumps and what sounded like Mom's voice up an octave floated up from downstairs through my partially open door, and I opened my eyes again, intrigued. Despite the fresh bolts of pain as I pulled myself into a sitting position for the second time that morning, I craned my neck and tilted my head, trying to hear better. This new position didn't improve my eavesdropping capabilities any more, so, my curiosity now thoroughly peaked, I threw off the covers and slowly got to my feet.
The relatively short walk downstairs was made unnecessarily long by my unnaturally stiff and tired limbs, but eventually I made it down, following the increasing-in-volume sounds to the kitchen. Flinching at the bright lights, I paused at the threshold, allowing my suddenly sensitive eyes to adjust, before continuing towards the source.
"Why are you doing this to me?" Mom pleaded, chasing desperately after Dad as he moved swiftly and silently around the room, his hands full of books. Her voice was so full of pain it felt like it was bleeding. "Please, it was innocent! I don't even know how it happened, but it meant nothing! You have to believe me! I love you!"
"You didn't push him away." Dad stopped moving in the middle of the floor, standing perfectly straight, more books in his arms. It was his eyes that stopped me, though – they were cold as ice.
Mom faltered, her expression a strange mix of excitement (that he was saying something at all) and confusion (at what he was saying). "What? No–"
"I was there, remember? I saw you. You didn't push him away; not until you heard me, that is. Which means that all of this crap you're spewing is just more lies. You know, it really does a disservice to your intelligence to try to lie to me, Bloom." With that, he was off and running again, gathering more books (good Lord, how many books did he have stashed away in this place, and how had I never known they were all there?), his face a mask of steely silence.
"I was in shock!" she protested, continuing to chase him. "We were just talking – about that ugly little mess last year with Alyssa and Taylor, actually – and then out of nowhere, he's kissing me! Forgive me for being a little surprised!" When that elicited no reaction, she tried a different tactic. "What about poor Alyssa? You're really going to leave her, right after her birthday?"
"Alyssa can survive without me."
"But I can't!" she exclaimed, almost throwing herself at him. He just sidestepped her and shook her off.
"I hope you two are happy together," he said, his tone colored with what sounded almost like regret.
"Wait! No! Please, don't go!" There was a blinding flash of light, and I had to turn away; my eyes were still too sensitive. When I opened them again, Dad was gone and Mom was curled up in a heap on the floor, her face buried in her hands, shoulders shaking in the unmistakable motions of a sob-your-eyes-out crying jag.
For the first time, I noticed she was still wearing her gold dress from last night. But there was a stain of something dark red (probably wine) on the side of the bodice, some of the beading had come loose, and a long, jagged tear sliced up the skirt. It looked very much worse for wear – as, I realized a moment later, did she.
"Mom?" I ventured, making my way to where she was curled up on the floor. Kneeling down so I was at eye level with her, I placed my hand on her back carefully, listening to her cry. "What's wrong?"
When she looked up, the woman I knew and loved had disappeared, replaced by someone who was almost unrecognizable. Her formerly gorgeous curly hair was tangled and ratty, makeup was smeared across her face, there were dark circles under her eyes, and her skin looked pale and sickly (the way I was sure my own did – the after-effects of too much alcohol). But it was her eyes that scared me the most. They were so sad and miserable, brimming with unshed tears, like she'd just lost her entire world.
"Alyssa?" She reached up and wiped away some of the tears streaked across her cheeks, as if something was telling her that it was very bad form to look like a soggy, tear-stricken mess in front of your daughter. (Yeah, pretty hard to do that when you're wearing last night's dress, curled up in a ball on the floor, looking like you got maybe an hour of sleep.) "Is everything okay, sweetie?"
I arched my eyebrows at her. "Shouldn't I be asking you that question? What just happened?"
Mom sighed, her entire body shaking with the weight of it, like she carried the weight of the world on her shoulders. "Your father has… decided to take some time off to travel…" She couldn't even finish her sentence (a total lie, of course) without breaking into another round of tears.
"There, there, Mom, don't cry. Everything's going to be okay." I zapped in some tissues, which she took gratefully, and let her cry onto my shoulder, wondering how our roles had become so reversed.
Yes, I was furious-slash-heartbroken over finding Ryan and Alexa, and from the girls all deserting me like that, but neither of them made me want to cry buckets like Mom was. And something told me that the universe couldn't handle both of us crying at once, so I held back and let her be the emotional one for the time being.
"I just don't understand why he won't even consider the possibility that I'm telling the truth! I gave up so much for him when I was barely older than you, Alyssa, and it's like he doesn't remember any of that! We had a lot of problems when we were younger, but being able to trust each other was never one of them. And I just don't understand it. I know he's always hated Sky, but I never dreamed that it could get this bad. Oh, I don't know what to do to fix this! If I could do things over, I'd sever all ties to Sky in a heartbeat. I'd never go to see him again, never invite him to your party, never agree to take a private walk…" This continued for God only knows how long, the brief moment of normalcy vanishing as quickly as it had appeared, as she rapidly deteriorated further into a weepy, rambling, incoherent mess. Eventually, the talking stopped completely, and she wrapped herself into a ball, silent tears trickling down her cheeks, until the sound of her breathing changed to the deep, relaxed paces of a sleeper.
Figuring she'd be much more comfortable in her bed than on the kitchen floor, I used as little magic as possible to bring her upstairs, not wanting to disturb her while she was getting rest that it looked like she desperately needed. Laying her down on the sheets, I tucked the blankets up around her prone form, giving her a brief kiss on the forehead. "Feel better, Mom," I whispered, hoping she would be able to deal with things more rationally when she woke up.
As if reminding me that I had my own problems to deal with, my splitting headache reared its ugly head again, and I winced. Looks like a nap was in order for both of us this morning.
I loitered in the front hallway of the palace, still unsure if I was making the right choice by leaving now. The original plan had been for me to spend my birthday weekend at home with my family, and Faragonda had cleared it so I could, but staying here now was just too damn depressing, with Dad gone and Mom passed out upstairs.
I'd tried to make the most of it, at first. After going back to sleep for several hours myself, I'd woken up with my head feeling slightly better, and taken the longest, hottest shower in the world. After shoving my dress from the party to the back of my closet (I would've thrown it out completely, but there was still a part of me that remembered that magical feeling when I'd found it in London, that wasn't tainted by all the crap that had happened last night), I'd gotten dressed, like everything was normal, and went to check on Mom, who was still asleep.
She'd stayed that way while I went back down to the kitchen and sucked down lots of water, coffee, and a couple aspirin. That plus the bagel and cream cheese now in my stomach had served to make me feel a little more human (although I was still never going near alcohol again). Then I'd finally realized that I was (more or less) alone.
When you go to a school like Alfea, you're never really alone, and even growing up I always had Dad. With Mom practically comatose, this was the first time I'd ever really been alone, and I quickly discovered I didn't like it. Hence my decision to leave.
But now that I was all packed up, I was starting to have second thoughts. Even if I did go back to Alfea, there was no guarantee I'd stop feeling so alone. The girls all hated me after last night, after all – except for Miriam, but she wasn't always around. And could I really leave poor Mom to wake up completely alone, after all that she'd been through?
"Don't worry about your mother, Princess Alyssa," my favorite of our maids, Elizabeth, said from behind me, as if she could read my thoughts. "I will make sure Her Highness is comfortable when she wakes up. If you believe you will be happier back at school, go. Worry about yourself for a change."
"Thank you, Elizabeth."
"Before you go, what should I do with these? They arrived while you were in the shower." I turned around to see her holding two bouquets of flowers. One was a cookie-cutter bunch of deep red long-stemmed roses, but the other was more personal – pale blue lilies and white roses interspersed with little star-shaped deep blue Stephanotis blossoms (which I only recognized after nearly two years of living with Ivy) and a spray of green leaves. Ignoring the red roses, I picked up the blue and white bouquet and inhaled deeply.
"Did they have a card?" I asked, plucking one of the white roses and reaching to place it behind my ear.
"Two." Elizabeth hesitated, then held them out to me. "The larger one came with the red roses, and the smaller with the blue and white bouquet."
The sweet floral perfume suddenly felt cloying and nauseating, as I saw who they had come from.
Dear Bloom, the bigger card read, I'm more sorry than you can imagine for what happened last night, but I don't regret a single bit of it. Please accept these roses as a token of my undying love for you, a flame that has never been extinguished. If you'll have me, I will spend the rest of my life doing penance for last night. But please, do not make me pay the highest price of all – continuing to live without you by my side. –Yours forever, King Sky of Eraklyon
"Pathetic," I snorted. Elizabeth tried to swallow her gasp of surprise. "And I suppose the other one's from Sky too? What does this card say, pray tell?"
It wasn't from Sky.
Dear Alyssa, I read, I know you must hate me right now, but I promise you, last night was an enormous misunderstanding. Call me when you get back to Alfea; I need to talk to you, to make things right. –Love, Ryan
I swallowed back the lump in my throat that came from reading Ryan's card and proceeded to calmly rip it into tiny little pieces that scattered like confetti onto the hardwood floors. I then did the same thing with Sky's card, until all the honeyed words and sweetly written apologies were nothing more than tiny scraps of paper.
I knew that Elizabeth was far from happy with me for doing what I did, but she was able to mostly conceal it. "What shall I do with the flowers, Princess?" she asked, her tone perfectly even.
"Dispose of them. And don't tell my mother." I pulled out the rose from in my hair and let it drop to the floor, making sure to step on it on my way out.
It was beautiful and sunny in Magix, exactly opposite of my mood. I glared up at the cloudless sky and warm sunshine somewhat angrily, almost wishing for dark storm clouds – at least then I'd have an excuse to be so grumpy.
Alfea was almost as quiet and deserted as the palace had been; everyone must have been out enjoying the beautiful day. I only saw a few people in the halls as I made my way back to my room, and they all started whispering behind my back as I passed. Apparently, news of last night's events had made its way through the Alfea grapevine. I just sighed and tried to ignore it.
Suite 12 was blessedly empty when I threw open the double doors that led to the common room. I didn't even want to think about what might happen if I ran into one of the other girls right now. My head was still clogged with the scent of roses and little white cards with lies written on them, and all I wanted to do was curl up in my bed and go back to sleep for another couple hours.
Someone was in one of the rooms – I could hear a faint sound, like a person humming. The noise increased in volume as I walked towards my room, making me think it was probably Miriam. Well, if it had to be anyone, she was the best – at least she didn't hate me.
I stepped past the threshold of our shared room, my lungs filling with a familiar sweet, flowery scent. There was a blond girl with her back turned to me standing by the window seat – the cause of the singing I'd heard earlier. It stopped abruptly as I entered the room. "Miriam? That you? Oh my God, you would not believe the morning I've had." I dropped my bag to the ground with a heavy sigh.
The girl at the window turned around, and the world seemed to go into slow-motion as my gaze met a pair of blue eyes.
"Hey there, roomie," Taylor smirked, the gold compact mirror she held in her hand snapping shut. "Miss me?"