She threw up her hands at that. Before putting her head in them. “I’m just not used to thinking about these things, okay? Or talking about them. Or feeling them. The closest I ever got to experiencing a sexy sensation before now was that time in school when Jenny Haverman tripped and accidentally brushed my boob with her boob. And now here I am at nineteen years old saying the wordboobto my probably reasonably experienced and very cool friend.”
“Min, I am not experienced atall. I had braces so big and thick all through high school that one boy started crying when I suggested we kiss behind the bike sheds. He said the idea traumatized him. He had to go to the nurse. And even if boys had made it through, my Baba used to squirt any who came too near me, with the thing he used to mist the tomato plants in his sort of greenhouse,” Anaya said. Exaggerating quite plainly, but oh, it was amusing enough to make Mina drop her hands, and sag back against the frame of her bed.
“I get what you’re doing, you know. Telling silly stories to try and make me feel more comfortable about this. But the simple truth is that I’ve never been. And I don’t know how to be. Or even if I can be,” she said, but even as she did, she could feel something long asleep inside her, stirring. Deep down, beneath layers of sad disappointments and dull encounters. And all it needed was something more to unearth it, something like darkness and danger and the sense of everything being turned upside down. Something like him, stroking her face in the middle of a maelstrom of emotions.
And so softly, too.
Like she was something fragile and forbidden.
A gothic story with a hero red in tooth and claw always did make your heart race, some voice in the back of her head said. But god, it was unbearable to hear it. She shoved it away before it could take root. It simply couldn’t be that, and even if it somehow was, it definitely had nothing to do with him.
He was just a stand-in.
Anyone could have prompted the same feelings, in someone so unused to them. She just needed to practice on her own. And apparently, Anaya thought the same thing. “Maybe I should leave you alone to explore this a little more intensively,” she said, half laughing.
But not unkindly.
And she gave her a half squeeze as she made her way out the door. Then it was just her, alone with her thoughts.Close your eyes, she told herself.Lay back, she told herself. Think of the fantasy version, not the real version. A woman running through a maze wrapped in red veils, something chasing her, thunder rolling above, everything lush and deep and dark.
And for a moment, something seemed to shift. The books she’d laid back on melted away; her breathing slowed, slowed. She could almost feel the chill air on her overheated skin, could almost hear the ragged breaths of whatever was after her.The hunt, she thought,the hunt, and then somehow her hand was nearly between her legs.
And that silvery feeling—it was there. It was within reach.
Just a little more, she thought, as she turned her face up toward that lovely magic. Hands coming together, ready to gather. Every part of her sure this was entirely divorced from him. Then sheheard it, clear as a bell, in her head. His voice, just as it broke through.
And she shut down so fast, it felt like a slap.
She decided the best thing to do was just not push it. Let it come naturally, away from him. If she could just get a moment’s peace, she could sort all this out herself, she was sure of it.
But unfortunately for her, there wasn’t a moment’s peace to be had.
She had barely gotten herself settled in for an evening of fervent study and serious thought, when she heard the familiar sound of a letter in her dresser drawer. And she knew as soon as she saw it that it was from him. She recognized his handwriting now. That old-fashioned script.
He’s probably a thousand years old, she thought bitterly.
But she picked it up anyway. She broke the seal and spilled the contents all over her bed. First a letter, with just one line written in it.You cannot stay away from everything you fear forever, it said. Then beneath it, a sumptuous piece of card, embossed with gold lettering.
Familiar, because she had seen it in the hands of other students.
It was an invitation to the All Hallow’s Ball. The one being held that very night, but that she hadn’t considered for a second. It was not for the likes of her, whether she was fearful of it or otherwise. She was the sort of person who stayed in, while other people danced and drank and did fun things.I don’t even have anything suitable to wear, she thought.
But then she heard a rustle from her wardrobe. And when she opened the door, there it was. A deep red, among the worn browns and grays. Vivid, even through the gauzy wrapper, andunderneath, silk, taffeta, layers all furled and furrowed, like the frosting on a cake. Beautiful enough that her eyes and fingertips marveled, even as her heart hardened against it.I’m not a doll to be dressed just so, in the hopes I’ll be accepted. And even if I was, it won’t fit, she told herself, as she tossed it aside. She kicked it into the corner of the wardrobe, alongside the shoes that had also appeared.
Crystal slippers, obviously.
Faceted to catch the light, and so fragile looking she wasn’t even sure she would dare step into them. And she’d definitely never be able to walk in heels like that. She picked one up and almost cut her hand on the high sharp point. Impossible looking, and certain to shatter the second she tried to walk.
Maybe that was even the joke. She’d dare and slice her feet to shreds.
You can forget it, she wrote, on a sheet of paper torn from a notebook, under notes on Professor Jameson’s lecture on maintaining acode of silence. Then she stood, and went to the drawer, and held it above, waiting to drop it in.
She probably would have even done it, if it hadn’t been for the knock on the door. Too soft to be him, she knew. But it still jolted her. Her heart still did the same thing it always did, whenever he was around. She had to force herself over there and make herself open it. And it wasn’t even a relief to see Anaya on the other side.
Because Anaya was also wearing a dress.
A gorgeous emerald-green creation, with a halter neck that revealed only the amount of skin that Mina knew her friend was comfortable with. No sign of her bust, but her toned arms and smooth as silk shoulders were bared. They glowed, in the low light of the hall.
Perfect for her.
