The Golden Lily (13 page)

We’d seen no sign of the Moroi who were after Jil, but an unknown place presented new dangers. Inspiration hit. “But that’s the thing. He’ll be on-duty. He’ll spend the whole time checking the place out, watching for mysterious people. It’d be a waste for him to, uh, go with you. You probably wouldn’t have waste for him to, uh, go with you. You probably wouldn’t have much fun. Better to go with someone else.” uh, go with you. You probably wouldn’t have much fun. Better to go with someone else.”

“But I should be protecting Jill too,” she argued. “Isn’t that why I’m here? I need to learn what to do.”

“Wel, yeah,” he said, obviously trapped by her logic. “You’ll have to go with me in order to look after her.” Angeline brightened. “Realy? Then we can go together!” Eddie’s look of pain returned. “No. We’re going together.

Not together.”

Angeline didn’t seem to be fazed by the nuances. “I’ve never been to a dance,” she admitted. “Wel, I mean, back home, we have them all the time. But I don’t think they’ll be like the ones here.”

That I agreed with. I’d seen the types of social events the Keepers had. They involved raucous music and dancing around bonfires, along with some kind of toxic homemade alcohol that probably even Adrian wouldn’t touch. The Keepers also didn’t think a social event was a success if at least one fight didn’t break out. It was actualy kind of amazing that Angeline hadn’t gotten into one yet here at Amberwood. I should have counted myself lucky that her only transgressions were dress code violations and talking back to teachers.

“Probably not,” I said neutraly. “I don’t know. I’ve never been to a dance either.”

“You’re going to this one, aren’t you?” asked Eddie. “With Brody?”

“Brayden. And I don’t know. We haven’t even had our second date. I don’t want things to move too fast.” second date. I don’t want things to move too fast.”

“Right,” Eddie said. “Because there’s no bigger sign of commitment than a Haloween dance.” I was about to get him back by suggesting maybe he and Angeline should go together after all when Jill and Micah joined us. Both were laughing and had a hard time settling down to explain what was so funny.

“Janna Hall finished a men’s suit in sewing club tonight,” said Jill between giggles. Once again, I felt a rush of joy at seeing her so happy. “Miss Yamani said it’s the only guy’s outfit she’s seen in there in five years. Of course, Janna needed a model, and there’s only one guy in there …” Micah attempted a tormented look but was quickly smiling again. “Yeah, yeah. I did the manly thing and stepped up. That suit was awful.”

“Aw,” said Jil. “It wasn’t that awful—okay, it realy was.

Janna didn’t try to go by any size guidelines, so the pants were huge. Like, tents. And since she didn’t make any belt loops, he had to hold it all up with a sash.”

“Which barely held when they made me do a runway walk,” said Micah, shaking his head.

Jill gave him a playful nudge. “Everyone probably would’ve loved if it hadn’t held.”

“Remind me to never ever sign up for an al-girls club again,” said Micah. “Next semester, I’m taking something like shop or karate.”

“You won’t do it again? Not even for me?” Jill managed a look that was amazingly both pouty and aluring. That, I realized, look that was amazingly both pouty and aluring. That, I realized, was more effective than any charm spell or compulsion.

Micah groaned. “I’m helpless.”

I didn’t consider myself particularly sentimental—and still disapproved of their timid romance—but even I smiled at their antics. At least, I did until I caught sight of Eddie’s face. He wasn’t giving away much, to be fair. Maybe hanging around Dimitri had provided some tips on the guardian poker face. But Eddie wasn’t Dimitri yet, and I could see the faintest signs of pain and longing.

Why did he do this to himself? He’d refused to tell Jill how he felt. He took the noble stance that he was her protector and nothing more. Some part of me could understand that. What I couldn’t understand was why he kept torturing himself by endorsing her going out with his roommate, of all people. Even with his hang-up over Micah and Mason, Eddie was forcing himself to constantly watch the girl he wanted with someone else.

I had no relatable experience, but it had to be agonizing.

Eddie caught my eye and gave a small shake of his head. Let it go, he seemed to be saying. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.

Angeline soon piped in with more talk about the dance, interrogating Jill and Micah about whether they’d be going. She also brought up her plans to go “with” Eddie. That puled him out of his melancholy mood, and although I knew she annoyed him, I wondered if that was better than continualy being tormented by Jill and Micah’s relationship.

Of course, the conversation came to a halt—as did Eddie’s problem—when Micah frowned and pointed out what the rest of us had missed. “Why would you go to the dance together?

Aren’t you guys cousins?”

Eddie, Jil, and I froze. Another cover story mess-up. I couldn’t believe this had now slipped past me twice. I should have mentioned this as soon as Angeline brought up the dance.

In the school’s eyes, we were all related.

“So?” asked Angeline, missing the point.

Eddie cleared his throat. “Um, third cousins. But still. We’re not realy going together. It’s more of a joke.” That effectively kiled the topic, and he couldn’t help smiling triumphantly.

Brayden picked me up immediately after school the next day so that we could make the windmil tour on time. Ms. Terwiliger had even let me go a few minutes early, after promising I’d get her a cappuccino on our way back to Amberwood. I was excited to see Brayden and the tour, yet as I got into his car, I felt a brief pang of doubt. Did I have any business doing these sorts of fun, personal activities? Especialy now that the cover story had slipped a couple of times. Maybe I was spending too much time on me and not enough on the mission.

Brayden had lots to tell me about the debate competition he’d attended over the weekend. We analyzed some of the more difficult topics he’d come across and laughed at the easy ones that had stumped the opposing team. I’d feared dating for years but was again pleasantly surprised at how easy it was to talk to but was again pleasantly surprised at how easy it was to talk to him. It was a lot like the Shakespearean outing: an endless source of topics that we both knew lots about. It was the rest of the experience that still left me unsettled—the “date” stuff. The dating books I’d read since our last outing mostly advised on when to have sex, which was completely useless since I had yet to figure out holding hands.

The giant windmils were pretty impressive. They didn’t have the sleek beauty of cars that I loved, but I felt the same awe at the engineering they represented. Some of the windmils were over a hundred feet tal, with blades half the size of a football field. Moments like these made me marvel at human ingenuity.

Who needed magic when we could create these kinds of wonders?

Our tour guide was a cheery girl in her mid-twenties who clearly loved her job and all that wind energy represented. She knew all sorts of trivia about it—but not quite enough to satisfy Brayden.

“How do you address the energy inefficiency that comes from the turbines needing wind speeds that fall into such a narrow range?” Then: “What’s your response to studies showing that simply improving the filters in the conversion of fossil fuels would result in less carbon dioxide emissions than this sort of energy production?”

And later: “Can wind power realy be treated as a viable option when—after considering the cost of construction and other maintenance—consumers end up paying more than they other maintenance—consumers end up paying more than they would for traditional forms of electricity?” I couldn’t be certain, but I think our guide wrapped up the tour early. She encouraged some of the other tourists to come back anytime but said nothing as Brayden and I walked past her.

“That woman was sadly uninformed,” he told me, once we were back on the highway.

“She knew plenty about the windmils and their facility,” I pointed out. “I’m guessing the latest controversies just don’t get brought up much on these tours. Or,” I paused, smiling, “how to deal with, um, forceful tourists.”

“I was forceful?” he asked, seeming legitimately surprised. He had gotten so caught up in his ideas that he didn’t even realize it.

It was endearing.

I tried not to laugh. “You came on strong, that’s al. I don’t think they were prepared for someone like you.”

“They should be. Wind power’s got promise, true, but for now, there are all sorts of expenses and efficiency problems that need to be addressed. It’s useless otherwise.” I sat there for several moments, trying to decide how best I should respond. None of the advice I’d gotten from the books or my friends realy prepared me for how to handle discussions about alternative energy sources. One of the books—one I’d chosen not to finish—had a decidedly male-centric view that said women should always make men feel important on dates. I suspected that Kristin and Julia’s advice right now would have been to laugh and toss my hair—and not let the discussion progress.

progress.

But I just couldn’t do that.

“You’re wrong,” I said.

Brayden—who was a big advocate of safe driving—actualy took his eyes off the road for a few seconds to stare at me.

“What did you say?”

Aside from learning that he had a vast store of extensive and random knowledge like I did, I’d also picked up on something else central to Brayden’s personality.

He didn’t like to be wrong.

This was no surprise. I didn’t either, and we had a lot in common that way. And, from the way he’d discussed school and even his debate competition, I’d also deduced people never told him he was wrong—even if by chance he was.

Maybe it wasn’t too late to do the hair-tossing thing. Instead, I just rushed on.

“You’re wrong. Maybe wind isn’t as efficient as it could be, but the fact that it’s even being developed is a vast improvement over the outdated, archaic energy sources our society’s been dependent on. Expecting it to be as cost-efficient as something that’s been around much, much longer is naïve.”

“But—”

“We can’t deny that the cost is worth the benefits. Climate change is increasingly becoming a problem, and wind’s reduced carbon dioxide emissions could have a significant impact.

Furthermore—and most importantly—wind is renewable. It doesn’t matter if other sources are cheap if they’re going to run out on us.” out on us.”

“But—”

“We need to be progressive and look towards what’s going to save us later. To focus strictly on what’s cost-efficient now—

while ignoring the consequences—is short-sighted and will ultimately lead to the downfal of the human race. Those who think otherwise are only perpetuating the problem, unless they can come up with other solutions. Most don’t. They just complain. That’s why you’re wrong.” I paused to catch my breath and then dared a glance at Brayden. He was watching the road, but his eyes were impossibly wide. I don’t think he could have been more shocked if I’d slapped him. Immediately, I berated myself for what I’d said. Sydney, why didn’t you just bat your eyelashes?

“Brayden?” I asked tentatively when almost a minute passed with no response. More stunned silence met me.

Suddenly, without warning, he puled the car sharply off the highway and onto the shoulder. Dust and gravel kicked up around us. In that moment, I was absolutely certain he was going to demand I get out and walk back to Palm Springs. And we were still miles from the city.

Instead, he caught hold of my hands and leaned toward me.

“You,” he said breathlessly. “Are amazing. Absolutely, positively, exquisitely amazing.” And then he kissed me.

I was so surprised, I couldn’t even move. My heart raced, but it was more from anxiety than anything else. Was I doing it right?

I tried to relax into the kiss, letting my lips part slightly, but my body stayed rigid. Brayden didn’t pull back in revulsion, so that body stayed rigid. Brayden didn’t pull back in revulsion, so that was a good sign. I’d never kissed anyone before and had been worrying a lot about what it’d be like. The mechanics of it turned out not to be so difficult. When he did finaly pull away, he was smiling. A good sign, I guessed. I smiled back tentatively because I knew it was expected. Honestly, a secret part of me was a little disappointed. That was it? That’s what the big deal was? It hadn’t been terrible, but it hadn’t sent me soaring to new heights either. It had been exactly what it seemed like, lips on lips.

With a great sigh of happiness, he turned and began driving again. I could only watch him with wonder and confusion, unable to form any response. What had just happened? That was my first kiss?

“Spencer’s, right?” Brayden asked when we exited to downtown shortly thereafter.

I was still so baffled by the kiss that it took me a moment to remember I’d promised Ms. Terwiliger a cappuccino. “Right.” Just before we turned the corner toward the street Spencer’s was on, Brayden suddenly made an unexpected stop at a florist shop. “Be right back,” he said.

I nodded wordlessly, and five minutes later, he returned and handed me a large bouquet of delicate, pale pink roses. “Thank you?” I said, making it more of a question. Now, in addition to the kiss and “amazing” declaration, I’d somehow earned flowers too.

“They’re not adequate,” he admitted. “In traditional floral symbolism, orange or red would have been more appropriate.

symbolism, orange or red would have been more appropriate.

But it was either these or some lavender ones, and you just don’t seem like a purple person.”

“Thank you,” I said, more firmly this time. As I breathed in the roses’ sweet scent on the way to Spencer’s, I realized that no one had ever given me flowers before.

We reached the coffee shop soon thereafter. I got out of the car, and in a flash, Brayden was right by my side so that he could shut the door for me. We went inside, and I was almost relieved to see Trey working. His teasing would be a nice return to normality, seeing as my life had just detoured into Crazyland.