She sat up and turned, hugging me around the neck. I gulped back my emotions.
“Now get out of here,” I said. “Before you make me cry or something.”
“Pfft, yeah right.” She gave me a tired smile before slipping off the bed.
“Hey, what if McKale is cross-eyed?” Cass asked, walking backward to the door. Her mood seemed lighter now, but I couldn’t forget the jealousy she’d revealed.
“Don’t they have surgery to correct that?”
She shrugged, almost at the door. “What if he’s got some wicked crooked teeth?”
“Braces.”
“What if he refuses to get braces?”
I groaned and threw a small pillow at her. “Go finish packing, dork.”
She punched her chest and threw me a peace sign before leaving.
I flopped back on the blankets, feeling uneasy from all the emotion. This whole thing was going to be harder if Cassidy made a fuss. I’d be sure to give her plenty of attention in Ireland.
I switched off the light and set my alarm for the butt-crack of dawn. We’d only be getting a few hours of sleep, so I’d be running on pure adrenaline tomorrow. I climbed underneath the down comforter and snuggled in, doing what I’d done every night since I was six.
I imagined McKale. The guy whose life was tied to mine.
What would he see when he looked at me?
I’d resigned myself to a lot of bad “what ifs” over the years. Cassidy loved to throw those at me for fun. What if he has a big nose? What if he has halitosis? What if he’s got an ugly comb-over and he won’t shave it off?
But in all our imaginings there was one thing I never cared to envision. It was vain and stupid, considering I forced myself to imagine all sorts of horrid scenarios, and yet this was the thing that bothered me. Cassidy and I looked very much alike: athletic bodies, ample curves, medium-length brown hair, and round brown eyes. She, like our mom, was taller than average. And at five feet, eleven inches, I was over two inches taller than them.
Of all the truly frightening things worth worrying about, I held one selfish wish. Please… don’t let McKale be too much shorter than me.
BOARDING THE PLANE WAS SURREAL.
The four of us took our seats in the back row of first class. Thankfully it wasn’t a crowded flight. Three other passengers sat in the front, a good distance away. I nestled between my mom and sister with Mom by the window and Cass on the aisle. Dad sat in the aisle seat in the row beside us. I wondered if my father had somehow gotten them to fix the seating with no passengers around us so we could have privacy to talk.
My nerves flared when we pushed back from the gate and prepared for takeoff. I bit my lip to keep from screaming in anticipation. I was on my way to meet McKale! Crazy butterflies dive-bombed inside me. I’d been suppressing uncharacteristic psycho-girly giggles all morning, especially since my family seemed subdued.
I understood why. If I allowed myself to go down the path of how much I’d miss them when they returned home, leaving me in whatever situation I was in, my heart would break and my nerves would shred.
As soon as we were in the air Mom started acting strange, fidgeting, messing with her hair. I watched her stare distractedly out the window while Cassidy read a magazine on my other side. Mom’s hand drifted up to her throat and a look of nervousness crossed her face as she shifted her body toward me.
“There are a few things we need to discuss, Robyn. Let’s get our drinks and then I’ll glamour us so the flight attendants won’t pay us mind.”
Things to discuss? O-kay… What more could there possibly be to say?
When she leaned down to pick a piece of lint from the bottom of her brown trousers she shot a covert look toward my dad that screamed, Help! He raised an eyebrow of sympathy to her before shoving his face in a sports magazine.
Uneasiness invaded.
“Uh, Mom?” I said. She fiddled with her tennis bracelet and pushed her hair around some more. “Mom, what’s going on?”
She held a finger up at me and politely ordered a glass of red wine from the flight attendant. Cassidy ordered one as well, but Mom shook her head and Cass begrudgingly changed to ginger ale.
Mom guzzled the glass and ordered another. She sipped wine all the time at home, but I’d never seen her drink this fast. I eyeballed Cassidy who shrugged a shoulder. Once Mom had her second glass in front of her she whispered for us to pretend we were sleeping. The three of us slumped down into cozy positions with our eyes closed, and I felt the familiar static-tingle across my skin as Mom draped us with glamour. Now anyone who looked at us would see three people napping while we went about our business under the protective bubble of magic.
“Okay, Mom. You know how I feel about surprises. What’s going on?” My brain needed time to process things. She took another big gulp of wine.
“You know that McKale’s clan is of ancient roots.” She cleared her throat and proceeded to stutter and shift. “Far more ancient than ours. But there are a few things you’ve not yet learned about them.”
Oh no. Oh-freaking-no.
“What things?” My palms began to sweat as I watched her fiddling.
“Centuries ago, McKale’s people were specially chosen to receive magic because of their cobbling talents, er, shoemaking skills. You know Faeries love to dance, sometimes for weeks on end. So, naturally, they need new shoes often, and there are so many of them. Long ago, a country sprite brought this Irish clan of human cobblers to the attention of the Fae, who then offered to bless the clan with magic if they focused their trade solely on providing shoes for the Fair Folk.”
“Now get out of here,” I said. “Before you make me cry or something.”
“Pfft, yeah right.” She gave me a tired smile before slipping off the bed.
“Hey, what if McKale is cross-eyed?” Cass asked, walking backward to the door. Her mood seemed lighter now, but I couldn’t forget the jealousy she’d revealed.
“Don’t they have surgery to correct that?”
She shrugged, almost at the door. “What if he’s got some wicked crooked teeth?”
“Braces.”
“What if he refuses to get braces?”
I groaned and threw a small pillow at her. “Go finish packing, dork.”
She punched her chest and threw me a peace sign before leaving.
I flopped back on the blankets, feeling uneasy from all the emotion. This whole thing was going to be harder if Cassidy made a fuss. I’d be sure to give her plenty of attention in Ireland.
I switched off the light and set my alarm for the butt-crack of dawn. We’d only be getting a few hours of sleep, so I’d be running on pure adrenaline tomorrow. I climbed underneath the down comforter and snuggled in, doing what I’d done every night since I was six.
I imagined McKale. The guy whose life was tied to mine.
What would he see when he looked at me?
I’d resigned myself to a lot of bad “what ifs” over the years. Cassidy loved to throw those at me for fun. What if he has a big nose? What if he has halitosis? What if he’s got an ugly comb-over and he won’t shave it off?
But in all our imaginings there was one thing I never cared to envision. It was vain and stupid, considering I forced myself to imagine all sorts of horrid scenarios, and yet this was the thing that bothered me. Cassidy and I looked very much alike: athletic bodies, ample curves, medium-length brown hair, and round brown eyes. She, like our mom, was taller than average. And at five feet, eleven inches, I was over two inches taller than them.
Of all the truly frightening things worth worrying about, I held one selfish wish. Please… don’t let McKale be too much shorter than me.
BOARDING THE PLANE WAS SURREAL.
The four of us took our seats in the back row of first class. Thankfully it wasn’t a crowded flight. Three other passengers sat in the front, a good distance away. I nestled between my mom and sister with Mom by the window and Cass on the aisle. Dad sat in the aisle seat in the row beside us. I wondered if my father had somehow gotten them to fix the seating with no passengers around us so we could have privacy to talk.
My nerves flared when we pushed back from the gate and prepared for takeoff. I bit my lip to keep from screaming in anticipation. I was on my way to meet McKale! Crazy butterflies dive-bombed inside me. I’d been suppressing uncharacteristic psycho-girly giggles all morning, especially since my family seemed subdued.
I understood why. If I allowed myself to go down the path of how much I’d miss them when they returned home, leaving me in whatever situation I was in, my heart would break and my nerves would shred.
As soon as we were in the air Mom started acting strange, fidgeting, messing with her hair. I watched her stare distractedly out the window while Cassidy read a magazine on my other side. Mom’s hand drifted up to her throat and a look of nervousness crossed her face as she shifted her body toward me.
“There are a few things we need to discuss, Robyn. Let’s get our drinks and then I’ll glamour us so the flight attendants won’t pay us mind.”
Things to discuss? O-kay… What more could there possibly be to say?
When she leaned down to pick a piece of lint from the bottom of her brown trousers she shot a covert look toward my dad that screamed, Help! He raised an eyebrow of sympathy to her before shoving his face in a sports magazine.
Uneasiness invaded.
“Uh, Mom?” I said. She fiddled with her tennis bracelet and pushed her hair around some more. “Mom, what’s going on?”
She held a finger up at me and politely ordered a glass of red wine from the flight attendant. Cassidy ordered one as well, but Mom shook her head and Cass begrudgingly changed to ginger ale.
Mom guzzled the glass and ordered another. She sipped wine all the time at home, but I’d never seen her drink this fast. I eyeballed Cassidy who shrugged a shoulder. Once Mom had her second glass in front of her she whispered for us to pretend we were sleeping. The three of us slumped down into cozy positions with our eyes closed, and I felt the familiar static-tingle across my skin as Mom draped us with glamour. Now anyone who looked at us would see three people napping while we went about our business under the protective bubble of magic.
“Okay, Mom. You know how I feel about surprises. What’s going on?” My brain needed time to process things. She took another big gulp of wine.
“You know that McKale’s clan is of ancient roots.” She cleared her throat and proceeded to stutter and shift. “Far more ancient than ours. But there are a few things you’ve not yet learned about them.”
Oh no. Oh-freaking-no.
“What things?” My palms began to sweat as I watched her fiddling.
“Centuries ago, McKale’s people were specially chosen to receive magic because of their cobbling talents, er, shoemaking skills. You know Faeries love to dance, sometimes for weeks on end. So, naturally, they need new shoes often, and there are so many of them. Long ago, a country sprite brought this Irish clan of human cobblers to the attention of the Fae, who then offered to bless the clan with magic if they focused their trade solely on providing shoes for the Fair Folk.”
