The arrow continues on over the wooden side fence, which I assume means I’ll need to leap. (Which I do—almost as high as before.) And then we’re racing down the road with car-like speed, getting as far away from the evil druid lady as we possibly can.
20
I get almosta mile down the vacant, paved two-lane before the green bar in the upper right of my vision hits 0%, disappearing immediately, and I run out of juice. Ahead of me, a few cars whiz by a T-shaped intersection on a wide road. Even though we’re still basically in the middle of nowhere, it looks like Collin directed me next to a major traffic corridor. I have no idea if that druid has some magical solution to the wolfsbane, but there’s no way I’m going to chance going back to the BART station. I need to get away from Antioch as fast as I can.
Still riding on the last fumes of adrenaline, I use my rideshare app to book a trip all the way back to San Francisco. The cost is truly insane—well over a hundred dollars. But my account is on Mom’s credit card, and after what just happened, she can honestly suck it.
I glance at the time—it’s almost 12:30, an hour and a half before I need to meet Rafa. Then I crumple forward, palms on knees, as the exertion from the sprint hits melike the couch potato I truly am. Looks like I’m totally back to normal.
Collin’s hand lands on my shoulder, giving me support as I huff and puff. He’s beaming.
“Jaysus! You werebrilliant.”
I turn my head and smile up at him. His blue eyes sparkle back at me in the East Bay sun. He really is super-cute when he’s excited. Hell, let’s be real, he’s super-cute all the time.
“That was all you, Collin. I just did what you told me.”
He shakes his head. “No, Alvin. I mean, sure, I helped. But I’ve never been in an actual fight before. The previous owners always kept the watch safe and locked up, for all the obvious reasons. I tried to give you the best advice I could, but you made it all happen like it was dead easy. It was like we were in an action film! I mean, Jaysus, we just went through the scariest thing I’ve ever been part of, and you made itfun!”
Uh, I don’t thinkanyof that was easy—not for me, anyway—but he’s not 100% wrong about the fun part. I mean, it was terrifying, but also, now that I think about it, it was kinda cool that I could actually fight off a grizzly, y’know? At least, cool with Collin there.
The car pulls up. The driver, “Dan,” is an older guy. White hair. Faded brown small-check shirt over well-worn jeans. Very heavyset. His stomach spills over his ample lap. He confirms my name without even looking my way, and then we’re away toward an on-ramp. After I snap on my seatbelt, he chooses to completely ignore me—which, asfar as I’m concerned, is perfect. I need a little time to think.
Classic soft rock plays on the radio. Some old love song. I settle into the plush back seat and let my whole body relax. The adrenaline is finally sputtering out, and now I amtired. But I’m still feeling the afterglow of whatever it was that Collin and I did.Feeding on love. An echo of that sweet, happy note still rings inside. I want to hum along with it.
Collin takes my hand, and we’re like we were on the way to the druid’s. Just two boys who dig each other, sitting quietly together in the back of a car. Justbeingtogether.
But it’s not that simple, is it? Even what he just said about having “owners” (over the centuries, I assume?) reminds me that he’s not just some twenty-year-old dude who thinks I’m cute. Who could maybe become my boyfriend. Who I could even grow old with someday. He’s not human at all.
Then again, neither am I.
He playfully grinds his shoulder against my bicep—aggressively snuggling in, resting his cheek onmyshoulder, his blond curls tickling the corner of my jaw—and that gooey lovefeeling swells in my chest again. Fills my stomach, too. But I’m not feeding on him. I know now what that’s like. No, this is different. This is coming all from me.
I think I could be actually falling for him. I thinkthat’swhat this is.
Uff.
I know I’m the King of Pipe Dreams. And I knoweverything with Collin is just some kind of illusion. But I’m not having to work anymore to believe we could love each other. Now I’m having to worknotto believe in it.
My thoughts spin. This is bad. There are a million things I don’t know about him. For example, I don’t actually know if he really is a “him”! And even if I got great answers to every single one of my questions, I still need to free this spirit from the watch. I’m going to have to let him go. There’s no way this doesn’t end without me being in a world of pain. Without my heart shattered into jagged little pieces.
And yet… I don’t know if I can stop myself. From falling in love, I mean. Not without more information, anyway. He’s just too perfect.
I need to be smart, for once. I need to start asking the hard questions, and actuallylistento his answers. Not let myself simply believe what I want to believe: that I get to have this, whatever this is, for free.
I inhale a deep breath and think about what I should ask first. Maybe I should start with something neutral, like, “Do you think Mom set us up?” Or maybe Idon’tmake this about my mother for once, and instead ask, “So, the druid was a bust. What do you think we should do next?” Or maybe, I just cut to therealquestion on my mind: “Collin, who are you really, and why do you keep saying you like me so much?”
In other words, please tell me how I’m supposed to trust you—because I really want to!
I decide to start there. If I can’t trust Collin, then really nothing else matters at this point. Of course the problem right now is that Driver Dan would hear me talking tomyself like a crazy person and for sure blow up my (already questionable) star rating with Uber. That makes me wonder if there’s a way to talk to Collin without anyone else hearing. Like in the back of my throat. I think I’ve seen that in a book or a movie or something. What’s the word for that? To “subvocalize”?
It’s worth a shot, anyway. I clear my throat, ready to give that a try—and that’s when I get stabbed in the gut with a dozen razor-sharp blades.
Remember when I said that I thought the Obligation was waiting for the right moment to kick me in the nuts? Well, it turns out that it’s hard to feel rageful when you’ve been hopped-up on love and your adrenaline is spent. I have nothing left in the tank to push back against the fae’s magic, and it’s like the Obligationknows.
Sharp edges explode up through the lower chambers of my heart before spreading throughout my entire body in lightning-bolt zigzags—cutting, slicing,slashing. Channels of corrosive burn quickly follow in their wake. They aren’t real knives, it’s not real acid, but itfeelsreal.
And it’s not just physical pain. I’m also consumed with shame, guilt, and this feeling of total self-loathing. A deep conviction that I’m nothing more than some asshole who breaks his word, and deserves whatever he gets.
