I’m not entirely sure how he thinks this is supposed to work, but he pulls me back so he can lean against the wall of the train car, and I’m in his arms, my feet up on the bench. His surprisingly strong biceps flex against my shoulders as he settles me in, and I feel his tummy rising and falling against my back.
No one has ever held me. Not like this. (Hell, even the brief hugs I got today were more than I’ve gotten in my whole life, and those were beingforcedon me in a creepy vampire house!) So, this feels totally new and frankly really cool.
I get that I’m probably not being smart by agreeing to do this. In the real world,Imust be the one who’s actually leaning against the window frame, which would be unforgivingly solid and awkward like this. I bet it’ll give me the mother of all neck cricks. But at this point, after everything I’ve just gone through, I don’t have the energy to protest. And, if I’m being honest, being this way with Collin just feels socomfy.
The wool of his green shepherd shirt is thick and soft behind my head, like a pillow. I start to drift almost immediately, and my thoughts become drunk with grogginess. It makes me want to ask stupid questions. Or, at least, the one stupid question I can’t let go of.
“Do you think… Do you think Mom could have actually meant it when she said she loved me?”
Collin is silent for a moment. And then his words come out as a whisper. “It’s hard for me to think of anyone who really knew you not loving you, Alvin.”
I smile, content. It’s easily the sweetest thing anybody has ever said to me. And I really do feel so warm and safe, cuddled up here in his arms.
It’s almost enough to make me forget it’s not real.
16
Collin wakesme up with a hug, arms squeezing tight around my chest. His hot, moist breath brushes against my ear. It feels intimate and sweet—boyfriend stuff.
“Alvin, it’s time for us to switch trains.”
I sit up and stretch my neck and shoulders. I’m surprised to discover that there are no tight spots or anything. I couldn’t have slept more than thirty minutes, but I feel totally refreshed. And even after we’ve separated and I’ve moved back to my side of the bench, I still feel the lingering warmth of Collin’s arms around my chest.
Huh. In addition to making me feel things, can an Avatar of Knowledge also mask pain? Like maybe I actually have a wicked kink somewhere, but he’s just keeping me from noticing it?
I deliberately make the choice to embrace denial and not ask questions I don’t really want to know the answers to. Whatever that was, it was nice. And he looks super-cute and smiley as we get to our feet. Like he reallyenjoyed it, too. Maybe for once in my life I can let myself enjoy something that’s nice without waiting for the balloon to pop.
We exit through the side doors and head toward the standing eBART shuttle train for the final leg to Antioch, along with a handful of other commuters also switching trains. Halfway across the open concrete platform, I glance over at Collin, just to make sure he’s still with me. He notices, and with a grin, playfully swings over and bumps his shoulder against mine. There’s a cute little bob now when he walks that goes all the way up to his shoulders. It’s almost like a swagger, but sweeter. Especially in his wool shepherd-boy outfit—he looks like some lost prince from a fairy tale, a jaunty hero on top of the world. I have to keep myself from staring.
He takes my hand after we sit down in an empty two-seater on the shuttle train. His skin is soft. I can feel the pulse in his thumb. Somehow it’s as if cuddling just those few minutes on BART changed something between us. Opened something up.
It’s not real, I remind myself, forcing myself to not look at him. I focus out the window at the gray strip malls along the highway, whizzing past.
But… if Iamchoosing to embrace denial, is it honestly such a bad thing to pretend that some cute boy actually likes me? That I’m on some kind of weird first date that’s going really well? That I get to havethat, just for a little bit longer?
We’re quiet for the rest of the train ride and also in the Uber on the way to the druid’s. Just enjoying being together, I guess. I know I should probably be pepperinghim with questions to prepare, but I’m too distracted by our interlaced fingers and the way the light catches the random bit of blond fuzz on his chin, and how he sits so close to me, constantly smiling, like he’s living his best life. This whole little scheme of mine to free him isn’t something he’s allowed to help with, so he probably wouldn’t be able to answer my questions, anyway.
(At least, that’s what I tell myself as I relax in the back seat of the Uber and let the sides of our bodies, our shoulders and legs, press gently against each other.)
Don’t pop the balloon, Alvin.
The druid’s house is in the rural outskirts of Antioch, an area with rolling hills of mostly dry, yellow meadow. But it’s not hard to tell when we’re getting close: The grass literally gets greener, and the California oaks get taller and thicker. By the time we drive up the gravel road to a colorful, gingerbread-like cottage, we’re surrounded by acres of lush foliage that feel like they’ve been nurtured by daily rains instead of suffering under the constant drought of the Bay Area. I step out of the car, and everything smells clean, fresh, and honeyed.
The druid is waiting for us in the rounded wooden archway of her open front door. She’s middle-aged with short dark hair, and wears a dirty white T-shirt, jeans with grass stains, and thick leather gardening gloves. I’ve never met a druid before and, to be honest, I’d been expecting to see someone straight out of a Dungeons & Dragons campaign—you know, the big brown wool cloak with a hood, the staff, the whole nine yards. (More like Collin, I guess.) But she looks like a suburban mom coming straight from her garden. Only the peek of blue tattooedrunes under the collar of her shirt implies she could be anything more.
“You must be Alvin!” she says, beaming at me. She makes a half-turn into her doorway and scoops her hand in toward herself a few times. “Come in! Come in!”
If I was surprised by her clothes, I’m even more surprised by her warmth. Mom’s “friends” aren’t exactly cheerful types. More like lifetime members of the Legion of Broken Toys and Despair. They never seem happy to be around her, and they barely talk to me at all. This… is new.
I glance at Collin, who shrugs, eyes scrunched with uncertainty. This is my show, apparently, and he’s just along for the ride. We still hold hands as I follow the woman inside. (I try to mask it by keeping our fingers as close to my hip as I can.)
No matter how she looks, this woman wouldn’t be on Mom’s speed dial if she weren’t crazy powerful. I figure leaning hard into pure politeness is the safest path.
“Thank you so much for seeing me on such short notice, Ms. Blackthorn.” I nod at the soiled work gloves she removes and throws onto her kitchen table. “I’m sorry for interrupting your day. I’m sure you were in the middle of something.”
“Nonsense! Your mother and I gowayback. And please, call me Tara.” She spins around and, before I can react, she has her hands on my shoulders, clasping them and turning me this way and that. She’s taller than me by a few inches. “Look atyou! Sohandsome. You definitely take after her!”
I feel myself actually blush. “Um… Well… Maybe less so now,” I stammer out.
