The last time I was here, the ceiling had been almost completely covered in words detailing Lena’s innermost thoughts. But now, every surface of the room was covered in her distinctive black handwriting. The edges of the ceiling now read: Loneliness is holding the one you love / When you know you might never hold him again. The walls: Even lost in the darkness / My heart will find you.
The doorjambs: The soul dies at the hand of the one who carries it. The mirrors: If I could find a place to run away / Hidden safely, I would be there today. Even the dresser was marred with phrases: The darkest daylight finds me here, those who wait are always watching, and the one that seemed to say it all, How do you escape from yourself? I could see her story in the words, hear it in the music.
Sixteen moons, sixteen years,
The Claiming Moon, the hour nears,
In these pages Darkness clears,
Powers Bind what fire sears…
Then the electric guitar slowed, and I heard a new verse, the end of the song. Finally, something had an ending. I tried to put the earth and fire and water and wind dreams out of my head as I listened.
Sixteenth Moon, Sixteenth Year,
Now has come the day you fear,
Claim or be Claimed,
Shed blood, shed tear,
Moon or Sun—destroy, revere.
The guitar died out, and now we were standing in silence.
“What do you think—”
She put her hand on my lips. She couldn’t bear to talk about it. She was as raw as I had ever seen her. A cold breeze was blowing past her, surrounding her, and exhaling out through the open door behind me.
I didn’t know if her cheeks were red from the cold or from her tears, and I didn’t ask. We fell onto her bed and curled into one ball, until it would have been hard to sort out whose limbs were whose. We weren’t kissing, but it was like we were. We were closer than I’d ever realized two people could be.
I guess this was what it felt like to love someone, and feel like you had lost them. Even when you were still holding them in your arms.
Lena was shivering. I could feel every rib, every bone in her body, and her movements seemed involuntary. I untangled my arm from around her neck and twisted so I could grab the pieced quilt from the foot of her bed and pull it up over us. She burrowed into my chest and I pulled the quilt higher.
Now it was over our heads, and we were in a dark little cave together, the two of us.
The cave became warm with our breath. I kissed her cold mouth and she kissed me back. The current between us intensified and she nuzzled her way into the hollow of my neck.
Do you think we can stay like this forever, Ethan?
We can do whatever you want. It’s your birthday.
I felt her stiffen in my arms.
Don’t remind me.
But I brought you a present.
She held up the cover, to let just a crack of light in. “You did? I told you not to.”
“Since when did I ever listen to anything you say? Besides, Link says if a girl says not to get her a birthday present that means get me a birthday present and make sure it’s jewelry.”
“That’s not true of all girls.”
“Okay. Forget it.”
She let the quilt drop, then snuggled back into my arms.
Is it?
What?
Jewelry.
I thought you didn’t want a present?
Just curious.
I smiled to myself and pulled down the quilt. The cold air hit us both at the same time, and I quickly pulled a small box out of my jeans and dove back under the covers. I lifted the quilt up so she could see the box.
“Put it down, it’s too cold.”
I let it fall, and we were surrounded by darkness again. The box began to glow with green light, and I could make out Lena’s slender fingertips as she pulled off the silver ribbon. The glow spread, warm and bright, until her face was softly lit across from mine.
“That’s a new one.” I smiled at her in the green light.
“I know. It’s been happening ever since I woke up this morning. Whatever I think, just sort of happens.”
“Not bad.”
She stared at the box wistfully, as if she was waiting as long as she could to open it. It occurred to me that this was possibly the only present Lena would get today. Aside from the surprise party I was holding off telling her about until the last minute.
Surprise party?
Whoops.
You’d better be joking.
Tell that to Ridley and Link.
Yeah? The surprise is, there isn’t going to be a party.
Just open the box.
She glared at me and opened the box, and more light came pouring out, even though the gift had nothing to do with that. Her face softened and I knew I was off the hook about the party. It was that thing, about girls and jewelry. Who knew? Link was right after all.
She held up a necklace, delicate and shining, with a ring hanging from the chain. It was a carved gold circle, three strands of gold—sort of rose colored, and yellow, and white—all braided into a wreath.
Ethan! I love it.
She kissed me about a hundred times, and I started talking, even while she was kissing me. Because I felt like I had to tell her, before she put it on, before something happened. “It belonged to my mom. I got it out of her old jewelry box.”