And yet that’s exactly what’s going to happen.
“So what do we do?” I ask.
“Well,” Delilah says softly. “I suppose we have to talk to Edgar.” She unzips her backpack, revealing the fairy tale.
It feels as if I swallowed lead for breakfast. I don’t have the energy to move, or the resolve. Stiffly I follow Delilah through the halls, trying to smile as other students pass and mumbling responses when my friends and acquaintances say hello. Can they tell that I’m already a ghost?
Raj grabs my shoulder and shakes me. “Man, any day now! I’m freaking out!”
I stare at him, wondering how the devil he knows that I may not be here for long.
“I mean, all I dream about is my SAT score,” Raj continues. “It’s going to totally determine the rest of my life. I heard a guidance counselor talking to Mr. Elyk, and he said we should be getting the results this week.”
“Yeah,” I say, trying to fake enthusiasm. “It’s going to be crazy. Look, I have to go. . . . I’m late for . . .” I let my voice trail off, unable to even think of a good lie.
“I wonder how you would have fared at college,” Delilah murmurs.
Suddenly Chris walks up to us, his face troubled. “Hey, guys. Look, this is kind of awkward, but has Jules said anything to you about me?” he asks Delilah. “I mean, I thought we had a pretty awesome night, but she hasn’t responded to any of my texts.”
Delilah exchanges a glance with me. “She’s really sick. . . .”
“Oh man. That sucks. But I’m kind of glad it isn’t just me,” Chris confesses. “Maybe I’ll stop by her house with some soup later.”
“Um, don’t,” Delilah blurts out. “There’s no way she wants you seeing her like that. Especially after just one date.”
Chris nods. “Okay, then can you at least tell her I was asking about her?”
“Absolutely,” Delilah says, and as soon as Chris is out of sight, she lets out the breath she’s been holding. “How do you feel about cutting first period?”
“I doubt it will make a difference, given that I’m leaving.”
She takes my hand, hers small and cool around my own, and leads me out the door by the gymnasium to the football field behind the school. There she ducks beneath the bleachers, where we will not be seen.
Delilah unzips her backpack and reaches for the book, but I still her with a hand on her wrist. “Promise me one thing?” I ask. “I get to say goodbye to you.”
I am thinking of Frump. I am thinking of how hard forever is, when you don’t see it approaching.
Delilah meets my gaze, her eyes steady. “I promise,” she says.
Together, we flip open the book, landing on the final page. The cast is assembled haphazardly on Everafter Beach. “We did it,” Edgar crows, holding up something tiny I can’t quite make out.
I frown at him. “Why are you wearing my hose?”
“Why do you evenhavehose?” Edgar replies. “Believe me, it’s not by choice. The book apparently doesn’t like my writing quite as much as my mom’s. I figure we only have a matter of hours before I start talking in a British accent and Jules here starts spinning straw into gold.”
“Wrong fairy tale,” I mutter.
“What did you find?” Delilah interrupts.
“Another passage,” Edgar explains. He whistles to the fairies, who flutter to his side, each taking a corner of the small item. “Good to see you’re feeling better,” he says to Ember, who flickers in response. The fairies fly the tiny disk closer to the surface of the book so that we can see it better.
“Is that . . . a biscuit?” I ask.
“Well. We’re not sure,” Jules admits. “We haven’t done a taste test.”
I read the piped inscription:WISH UPON A STAR. “Have you tried wishing?” I ask.
“Of course,” Edgar says. “It didn’t work. I even said the wholestar light, star brightthing.”
