"And I'll see you again, Luke."
After she'd gone, I looked at Luke, biting my lip before speaking. "Ex-girlfriend?"
Luke's eyes widened and he laughed. "That," he said, "Would be a terrible thing to wish on a man. No. Remember that storybook that would have Delia in it? Eleanor belongs in it as well.
Think of her as an evil godmother."
I relaxed. I shouldn't be thinking of Luke that way at all, considering how long I'd known him. But still, the idea of having Eleanor as competition had momentarily floored me.
"Evil godmother is much better than ex-girlfriend." What makes you so different, Luke, that I should give a rat's butt either way?
Luke glanced over at me. "Oh yeah?"
I looked away, losing my bravado, and nodded shyly. "Yeah."
I became aware that the speakers from the awards tent had been blaring for quite some time.
"Second place in solo performance to Carmen Macy." There was polite clapping from behind us.
We walked silently over to Mom, and stopped when we realized that she was speaking to someone and that Delia had gone quite still.
"--I heard her play this evening, and I just wanted to say that I am quite blown away by her talent. She and her friend are just the sort of people we're looking for. Please, please, take my card and do give us a call."
I looked at the man who was speaking. His pleasant voice belied his image, which was that of a bare-knuckle fighter. Though he was wearing a button-down shirt, the sleeves couldn't hide his enormous biceps and muscled chest. He wasn't like any school representative I'd ever imagined.
"First prize in ensemble goes to Andrew Manx, Tina Chin--" the speaker blared, but Mom's voice seemed louder. "Well, thanks. We'll definitely take a look."
Mr. Gigantic Muscles gave me a small nod before looking back to Delia and Mom. "Well, I know you've had a long day, so I'll let you go get a well-deserved rest. They should be announcing the grand prize very soon, shouldn't they? Enjoy the reception."
Mom exchanged a look with me and then stared at Delia after the man had gone.
There was more clapping behind us as awards were read. I was surprised to find that I didn't really care if I won anything. The competition seemed so insignificant--so ordinary--in comparison to the here and now, standing next to Luke and looking at the business card the conservatory representative had left.
"Thornking-Ash," Delia read from the card. She sniffed. "Sounds like a funeral home."
I sniffed, too, but only because I smelled the same herbal smell as before. Was that freak still here?
Luke was at my elbow, saying, "I think I'm going to have to leave early. I think I might have to go now."
I was about to protest or beg unabashedly for his number when I realized the clapping had gone quiet. The voice crackled on the speaker. "Ladies and gentlemen, it's six o'clock, and as promised, we're going to announce the winners of the grand prize. Thank you everyone for competing and sharing your talent with us. The judges would like to congratulate the grand prize winners for this year's arts festival--Deirdre Monaghan and Luke Dilling."
Luke whispered into my ear, close enough that his lips brushed my hair. "Tell me you want to see me again."
I smiled.
THREE
Hey psycho, what's up?" I rolled back onto my bed, cradling the phone on my shoulder.
"Nothing much." I caught sight of the clock on my bedstand and groaned. "James, it's not really ten o'clock, is it?" He didn't have to answer. I could tell from the fierceness of the sun coming through the white curtains that it was late.
"I hear," James said, "that introverts have to sleep a lot after stressful encounters with people."
I sat up. "That's true." It was also true that I'd spent way too much time last night unable to sleep.
Thinking about winning the whole freakin' grand prize of the competition.
Thinking about Luke. Thinking about Thornking-Ash. Mostly thinking about Luke. I didn't mention that part to James.
"So. Today's your birthday." James made a sound like he was chewing something. "Sorry, hangnail. Anyway. Today! The celebration of the first day you screamed."
"Yesterday was my birthday," I corrected, getting out of bed. I pulled a T-shirt out of a drawer and found some jeans, cradling the phone on my shoulder. "I'm getting old." I checked my pants from the day before for any money, and instead found the four-leaf clover that had been stuck to my phone. Good luck.
"You were busy yesterday. I'm designating today your birthday. You can't stop me."
"Okay, fine. It's my birthday. Want to make something of it?"
"Actually, your mom already did. In typical overbearing fashion, she's invited me and my parents to your house for dinner and cake this evening. Normally, this is the part where I'd complain bitterly about how you let your mom arrange your life for you, but since I really like her food, I'm not going to say anything."
I made a face. Trust Mom to throw me a kiddie party. She'd apparently missed the memo where I officially became an adult, or maybe the memo that said you don't arrange a teenager's birthday like a catering event. Come to think of it, I think she missed most memos.
"Boy, thanks, Mom," I said.
"Well, you could just tell her you wanted to hang out with me unofficially," James suggested. "You're the birthday girl. Snap the fingers. Make it happen."
Ha. Make it happen. It reminded me of Luke last night, of what he'd said. You know how some people can do anything? They want something, they make it happen.
"I like that idea better," I said slowly, distracted. I set the clover down on my bedside table, studying it--the way the sun cast a perfectly clover-shaped shadow behind it. "But you do like her food." I cupped my hand on the edge of the table, a few inches away from the clover.
James moaned. "Oh, it pushes me over the edge, baby."
Some people can do anything. Come here, clover.
The clover fluttered in an invisible wind. Then, leaves billowing out like a miniature ship, it scuttled across the desk into my palm.
Oh crap.
"What, not even a laugh for that? Wow, you're never allowed to sleep late again. You're crankier than a fat guy in stilettos."
James voice brought me back to reality. It made me realize that the air-conditioning vents in the room were roaring; the central air had just kicked in. The blast from the vent had sent the clover rushing into my hand. Nothing more.
I was oddly relieved.
"Dee?"
"What--yeah--no--sorry." Movement caught my eye from my window. Down below, an unfamiliar car was pulling into the driveway. "I'm really sorry, James, but I'm totally crazy right now. I think I need breakfast or caffeine or something. Can I call you back?"