Page 47 of Once Upon a Dream
And another sip, the flask lighter in my hand.
“Slow down there,” he said and took the flask from me. His fingers didn’t touch mine, but I could still feel the heat of them. “I reckon you haven’t eaten.”
“That,” I said. “Is a fair point.” When was the last time I’d eaten? Last night? Two days ago
? I couldn’t remember being hungry or full. It felt like I was very tiny inside of my body.
From the shadows around him came one of the china plates from inside. There was cheese there. Little quiches. Asparagus in prosciutto. “Have something,” he offered.
“What else have you got over there?” I joked.
“You probably don’t want to know. But if you’re hungry.” The plate came closer. I reached for a piece of cheese but in the end didn’t touch it. My stomach was in knots.
“No, thank you,” I said.
“Suit yourself.” The plate disappeared, and I was suddenly ravenous.
“Where are you from?” I asked.
“What makes you think I’m not from here?”
Laughter again. But this time, thanks to the flask, it didn’t hurt. It didn’t sound half like a scream.
“Something about your voice.”
“Northern Ireland.”
“Belfast?” That was the only town I knew in Northern Ireland.
“Eventually. Derry, too. I was born in a cow pasture you never heard of.”
“How long have you been here?” I asked.
He sighed, and I tried again to see him in the shadows, but they were too dark. Too complete. “Five hours.”
“I meant the States.”
“So do I. I flew into LaGuardia five hours ago.”
“And you’re here? At this party?”
“Do you know Caroline Constantine?”
“I do,” I thought with a laugh. My mom’s best friend and a fairy godmother out of the dark when my dad died. We were in her house right now. I slept in her pool house. The net keeping us safe–she’d created. “Did she bring you?”
“In a sense.”
“Wow. Well, welcome.” It was comforting a little bit. If Caroline was a friend of his, he was one of the good ones. There were rumors around Bishop’s Landing that the Constantines were bad news, but those rumors were mostly started by the Morelli’s who were actual bad news, so I didn’t listen to them. And if this guy was attached to the Constantines, being out here in the dark wasn’t nearly so scandalous.
“What about you? Where are you from?”
“Here,” I said. “I mean, Bishop’s Landing.”
Just the thought of it brought it all back, what tonight was supposed to be. What I was supposed to do.
I’d like to jump out a window, I thought, but when he laughed I realized I said it out loud. I stepped back again, further into my shadows. The flask was a mistake. Leaving the party was a mistake. I had to keep my head down and swallow my screams, there was no alternative.
“Well,” he said quietly. Carefully. “If what’s coming through the door is bad enough, the jumping is not so hard.”
