41- just a boy
It’s raining again. I can hear it on the roof. A cup of tea is getting cold on my nightstand. A pile of at-home schoolwork is piling up in my inbox. I snuggle deeper under my purple comforter and hug my right hand against my chest. It’s still red and painful and a constant memory of what happened in the playground nearly a month ago. The queen’s stings had become infected. I’m still being treated with antibiotics.
The house next door is empty again. The windows are dark. A fresh, new For Sale sign swings hopefully next to the street. It’s as if the Fernandezes were never there. I would seriously consider that maybe I imagined the whole thing, if my dad hadn’t regaled me with tales of how Reece carried me nearly a mile to the safe hands of paramedics. Or if Deno and Lacey hadn’t come over and made me relive every single moment. They’re a couple now, and I admit, it’s a little weird seeing them that way. Weird in a good way.
I wasn’t awake for any of my rescue, unfortunately. If I’d known that day would be the last time I’d see Reece, I would have made an effort to remain conscious.
I thought for sure he’d at least stop in at the hospital. To say good-bye, like he promised. To say something.
But he didn’t visit. Not once in the two days I was a patient there. Not once in the two weeks we stayed at the hotel while power and road access were restored to our neighborhood. Not in the week since my dad and I came home. I thought we went through something remarkable enough to warrant a good-bye, at least, but what happened in Cadence was probably just another day at the office for a harbinger of death.
Knuckles lightly rap on my bedroom door, and Dad pokes his head in. “Hey.”
Roger shoves through the open door and does a running leap onto my bed. He sneezes, then flops onto his back in a demand for belly rubs. Of course, I comply. He’s fully healed from the blow he took from the Beekeeper in the garage.
“How are you doing?” Dad comes in and perches on the edge of my bed. He smooths the hair out of my eyes. “Want me to reheat your tea?”
“No thanks,” I say. “I’m good.”
His brows draw together. “You very clearly are not good.”
“Yeah, I am.” I struggle to an upright seat with a wince. “Healing is hard work.”
“It is, but the body isn’t what’s bothering you right now.” Dad’s face softens. “Kiddo, you survived a landslide, a flood, all the insanity that ensued, and nearly died by stumbling on a colony of bees. Yet somehow I think heartache is causing you as much pain as that cracked rib.”
I shake my head and hold up my stung palm. “This still hurts more.”
“They sure did a number on you,” Dad says. “Over a hundred stings is a lot for a person your size.”
I smile weakly. “Sure. Remind me how short I am.”
“You’re not that short.”
My heart flips over in my chest. Those words didn’t come from my father. Roger’s tail starts up a rapid thumping.
I peek around my dad with dread and hope and the sudden urge to cry, and see Reece in the doorway. His arms are folded tight over his chest. He wavers at the jamb, as if unsure whether or not to come in. “Hi Angie.”
“Oh yes. By the way, you have a visitor.” My father clears his throat and gets to his feet. “Well. I’ll just give you two a moment.” He crosses to the door and pauses before Reece. “She’s still supposed to be resting,” he says. “I’ll be downstairs.”
“Yes sir,” Reece replies, a picture of deference. “Thank you for letting me see her.”
“Yeah, yeah. I made you wait long enough.” Dad mumbles something, then retreats, closing the door behind him, but not clicking it.
Reece looks healthy and handsome, in a blue T-shirt and jeans. He watches my father leave with a gentle, inscrutable expression. His gaze shifts to the floor and stays there. The room is so quiet. Too quiet.
I scrape my hair back and wish I had washed it recently. I don’t want to know what I look like right now. Thanks for the warning, Dad. I’m wearing Hello Kitty pajamas, of all things.
No wonder he won’t look at me. Wait…why won’t he look at me? Why is he still all the way on the other side of the room? It isn’t because of how I look. Or smell.
The answer slams into me. Burns worse than my hundred bee stings. This is good-bye. He’s leaving. Finally.
I close my eyes and ignore the burn behind my lids. At least he kept his word. This is just one more thing I’ll have to survive.
“How long do you have?” I manage to keep my voice even.
His head comes up. “How long for what?”
“Before you leave, of course.”
He rolls his shoulders in a tense shrug. “I don’t know.”
So we’re playing the vague game. Fan-freaking-tastic. After all we went through, we’re back to this.
“Fine,” I say. “You just let me know, then.” Somehow, I managed to infuse ample snottiness in my words. Even as my stomach slowly knots. Even as I bite my lip to keep it from quivering.
“I don’t know when I’m leaving,” he says hesitantly, “because I don’t know if I’m leaving. That part is up to you.”
As if my head wasn’t pounding enough. “What does that mean? I thought you were here to say good-bye.”
He comes forward and stands next to the bed. Finally, his eyes turn to mine. I tilt my head, confused by what I see. The lights are low, but I swear it looks like…
He blinks. Long, dark lashes sweep over crystal-blue eyes.
Not black. Not red. Not any other shade.
I rise up to my knees and lean close. Those blue eyes blink slowly, gaze at me with an inscrutable expression.
“Reece, your eyes are blue.” My voice is a reverent whisper. “What does this mean?”
He holds up his hand. The three scars running the length of his palm are gone. His lips turn up in a crooked, uncertain smile. “It means you—what you did—ended it for me. The crow is gone. You released it. I have a life—one life, one death, like everyone else. No more curses. No more changing into a—” He cuts off with a shaky indrawn breath.
“You mean you’re not a harbinger of death anymore?” I ask. “You’re just…you?”
His mouth moves into a wavering smile. “Yes. I’m just me.” His voice is low and rough and aching with deep emotion. His gaze shifts to my sore hand. “I don’t have the words. They just don’t exist—thank you, Angie. You…freed me. Rafette, too. And everyone who had been stung by Rafette, as you know.” He lowers his head. “I owe you everything.”
“You don’t owe me anything,” I say roughly. “You were going to become a Beekeeper to save me, remember?” My heart pounds. I can’t stop staring at his eyes. So blue. If it weren’t for them, I’d wonder if this was a latent bee sting-induced hallucination. “You don’t look happy.”
He rubs his palms on his jeans and lets out a breath. “I am, it’s just… My family has left. They’re all excited that there is a way out of this curse, even though what happened with us can’t be replicated. But it’s given them hope.”
Hope. Such a powerful emotion. I glance over at my dresser, to the small glass bowl sitting there. Inside are Hank’s gifts, untouched, and the amethyst Reece found in the mine. “How is Hank?” I ask.
Reece sighs. He reaches into his pocket with slow movements and comes out with a long white wing feather. He takes my hand and reverently places it in my palm. “After it was confirmed that you would recover, he requested the mortouri and it was granted.” He looks away, brow creased. “I wasn’t present for it. I didn’t…”
“It’s okay.” My throat tightens. I close my fingers around the stiff white feather. “He suffered enough. Maybe his curse will die with him, too.”
“I hope so.” Reece’s gaze flickers back up to mine, then away.
“Thank you for this.” I hold the feather to my chest. “I’ll never forget him.”
“Nor will I. He tried to save himself and your mother, but wound up damning them both. But with us…” He runs a hand through his hair. “I don’t know what happened after you grabbed Rafette’s queen bee. I was incapacitated for a while, as the curse worked its way out of my body. I couldn’t see what happened. My family thinks it was our willingness to lose ourselves, to save each other, that cracked the curse. We may never know for sure what did it. I still can’t believe you survived the queen’s venom, too.”
Yes, there are things we’ll never know about that day. Maybe my mom’s final gift to me was whatever magic allowed her to survive so long with Rafette’s venom. In the end, I’d like to believe my mom saved me.
I think back to my fleeting memories, just before I passed out in that playground. Of Rafette’s shockingly beautiful face. Of the smell of decay, the sound of snapping straw. Of the quiet voice in my head saying, Well done, child. I can’t be sure any of it was real and not the byproduct of pain, venom, and fear. Maybe I’ll tell Reece about them sometime, but I may never have the chance to.
“So what are your…plans?” I ask, unsure where this is going. If this is not necessarily good-bye, what is it?
“My family has put me in charge of their estate, since I’m, well, all human now. For the first time in more years than I can remember, I don’t know what happens next. I’m…scared.”
“Good.” I force myself to sit still, even though I want to jump off this bed and dance. I want to sing at the top of my lungs. I want to kiss him breathless. “It’s life. It’s supposed to be scary.”
He sobers, eyes turning serious and watchful. “So I have to ask, because I have choices now, and so do you.” He swallows with effort and shifts his gaze to the blue twinkle lights draped above my headboard. “Do you want me to stick around or not? I found an apartment in Summit, the next town over. I can live on my own, since I’m eighteen, but if you’d rather I leave the area, I will.” His hands are restless, tracing designs on my comforter. “I’m afraid I’m never going to be completely normal. The things I’ve seen and I… Well, you never really recover from it. I’d understand if you want to go separate ways. You’re not obligated to—”
“Oh, shut up, Reece.” I reach out a hand and he steps toward me. “Of course I want you to stay.”
His face brightens. “Are you sure? I know you have plans to go to college, and if you don’t want me to go with you, just say so. I wouldn’t blame you.”
I’m grateful my left hand doesn’t hurt. I use it to grab the front of his shirt and pull him toward me. He stops rambling and peers down at me, a smile spreading slowly over his lips.
My mouth finds his and his eyes close and we kiss. A first kiss. A kiss of beginnings and possibilities and impossible dreams.