Page 68 of The Heir

“Oh, yes. My mother made me take lessons. I hated them back then, but I guess they did come in handy after all. She told me that one day I would thank her.” He pulled a few fingers through his hair. I ached to know more about him. He led us outside for a bit to get some air.

We reached a bench, and I sat down and looked up at Shad. “I didn’t know if I would like this whole thing,” I admitted, running a hand down the dress.

“So, how do you like it so far?” he asked.

“I like it.”

He smiled and said, “Me, too.”

We sat there for a while, and eventually, his fingers brushed against my wrist, sending bolts of electric shocks through me. He caressed my wrist and then my palm with his fingers, ever so delicately. I thought I would combust from the thrill of it. His hand found mine, and he interlocked his fingers with mine again, and like every other time, I felt like I belonged there–with him and nowhere else.

I like holding your hand,I thought, squeezing his hand tight.

“I like holding your hand, too,” Shad agreed, looking up at the stars.

Did I say that thought out loud?I was surprised that he had repeated the very words I had just been thinking. He always seemed to know how I was feeling. He was so in tune with me.

“Yeah,” I returned, looking at his profile.

He turned to face me, then, and smiled.

“My dad used to talk about the stars a lot,” I noted, getting lost in the sky. “He told me that he thought there were worlds with other people out there–other ‘realms,’ he called them. My mom used to make up stories–reframing common fairy tales, and I used to imagine that her stories were real and that the realm she wrote about was real, and that it was out there, somewhere, beyond the stars.”

“I’d like to believe that there are,” Shad agreed.

“That would be amazing, but it was just child stuff–fictional stories to help me fall asleep.”

“The stars make me sad most of the time. I cannot even look at them, anymore, for very long,” Shad whispered.

“Why?”

“They remind me of home, of the people I have lost.”

“Your family?” I asked, looking at him. He nodded. We were silent for a few minutes, and it was nice to sit there together, only the music in my mind, that soft melody floating between us.

“I like being around you,” he continued. He moved his face so that my eyes were locked onto his; my green eyes focused upon his golden ones. The song in my mind and soul played loudly, like it always did when Shad was around me. I felt like I could have listened to the music playing between us forever.

Is this what falling in love is like? Is love made of all these feelings and emotions and songs in my head? Do I love him? No, I can’t love him; that would be crazy, right?

“I like being around you, too,” I agreed with a fragile smile. He reached out to touch my face. His hand caressed my cheek, and I thought the world had started to spin faster.

“I have something for you,” he said in a whisper, as if—as if someone had heard him, then, the gift would break. I remained silent as he moved his fingers away from my face and let go of my hand. The emptiness that I felt without his touch was something I hated. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small velvet bag. He untied the knot in the drawstring and shook out the contents of the bag into his palm. There, on a long, golden chain, was a beautiful crystal. It was clear and cut beautifully, which caused it to sparkle like crazy even in the dim lights of the night.

“What is this?” I exclaimed, almost breathless.

“Your Homecoming gift,” he said as ifthatshould have been an obvious fact. “Turn around, I will put it on you.”

I did as he said, and his fingers moved my hair away from my back, his fingertips grazing my neck as he brushed my hair onto my shoulder. He lifted the chain over my head and placed it around my neck.

As I touched the crystal, I felt a small jolt, as if it held some sort of power. It was warm, but that was probably because it had been inside his pocket. I felt it again—the little jolt–and looked down at the gift, and I told myself that it must have been a little bit of static shock. Yes, that made sense.

This is a normal, non-jolting necklace. All this fantasy talk is getting into my brain again.

“Is this from the creek?” I asked, surprised.

“No, but it is a crystal,” he said with a smile. “It looks good on you.”

“Thank you,” I returned, still in awe. “You didn't have to get me anything,” I continued quickly.