“Do you wish they hadn’t found out?” Red asked.
“I don’t know. It’s nice not to have to lie, but we fight more nowadays. We never really used to.” She pushed the toe of her boot against the concrete floor.
My parents and I were the same. We rarely fought. I didn’t really challenge them. They didn’t need me going all angry, hormonal teen on them—I was enough of a problem for my family as it was.
I propped my arms up behind me and stared at the ceiling. I wouldn’t bring a girlfriend home anytime soon. Was there a reason to tell my parents? Was there even something to tell? I kept thinking, Maybe you’re just admiring Marybeth, like girls do, because it wasn’t like I fantasized about sex with her or seeing her naked, or anything. I just liked the way she looked. I liked the way she danced and hunched close to her desk when writing, so close she’d almost have her nose to the paper. I just wanted us to sit side by side. Lean my head on her shoulders, toy with her hair, play video games with our legs touching and toes tickling, and maybe kiss since I couldn’t stop looking at her lips—
Girls did that, right? They were close, they experimented? It was normal to wish for that level of closeness.
It didn’t matter if it was more than that, because I couldn’t look at myself in the mirror and think those words. Gay. Lesbian. Queer. Likes girls. They suited someone like Rainbow, stylish and sharp like a person on TV, but not someone like me, with this big bush of hair, with big front teeth I hated even after I’d had my braces out, with one boob slightly bigger than the other, gawky and curveless and sheltered and unkissed.
Seeing Rainbow had been like being handed an answer. Here, look: You were right. This is who you are. This is who you could’ve been if you weren’t so scared. This is who you could’ve been in another life.
But then Four wasn’t—But Red was, and—
I was no closer to knowing about myself than before.
The only one who hadn’t said a word was me. Any moment now, the others would realize that.
I took the knife from the ground. “Aww. Look at us, bonding.”
I tried to be jokey but, shit, I just sounded dismissive. If someone responded like I did after confessions like those . . . I cringed at the thought.
I flashed a smile and stood. “I’m gonna check on Neven.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Damford had a population of eight hundred and seventy-six.
Plus a number of trolls and one Hazel Stanczak, if we were right.
We started our descent far out enough that nobody would see Neven coming, and landed by a patch of forest. We stumbled off Neven’s back, our legs stiff. Since I’d sat at the front, my eyes burned, and my hair was tangled to the point of hurting.
I removed my gloves and unwrapped my scarf from my face. The others sat down in the tall grass, slowly stretching their legs to get some feeling back. Rainbow passed around Lina’s cereal bars.
It almost felt like a picnic. I’d wandered the grounds and woods around my house often enough that this scene on the grass—even with a grumpy dragon, three identical faces, and mountains on the horizon—felt more like home than any part of Philadelphia had. It was quieter, too. No traffic. No sirens or car horns. No police on every corner. I didn’t even hear birds. Only a rush of wind, rustling leaves and grass, and the quiet chatter of my own voice a dozen feet away.
I could almost imagine my house standing just past those trees. I could walk over and be home before dinner.
I turned away, coming up by Neven’s side. “Do you need anything?” The flight here had taken over six hours—the few breaks we’d taken couldn’t have been sufficient. “Food? Water?” Medical care?
“I’ll look after myself after you’ve gone into Damford.” She scanned the area.
“I have a question.” I spoke softly, though the others were too far away to listen in. “What does being the Chosen One actually mean? I understand that I have a destiny, but . . .” The answer seemed obvious—I was Chosen—but that could mean a dozen different things. I shook out my stiff legs, unsure how to finish my question. “But does that mean I’m going to succeed?” I asked finally. “Am I supposed to succeed? Does it mean I’m the only one who could?”
Neven seemed to deem the area safe. She lowered herself gently onto her side. Her glossy black eyes looked up, unblinking. “Just do what you can.”
“How do I know it’s enough?”
“All Chosen Ones wonder that, eventually,” Neven said. “I always wish I could answer.”
“Thanks,” I mumbled, and stepped away.
I wished I hadn’t asked at all.
I wished I could scrub off this uncertainty like it was dirt or water. I wished it were something physical I could peel away and be left with only me, confident and heroic and ready to fulfill her destiny—
But as I watched the others in a half circle by the trees, I couldn’t pretend that I was that brave girl underneath all my fears. Not with Four biting her lip, the same embarrassing way I now knew I did, or smiling so hopefully that I recognized it as too eager, too desperate. With Red leaning toward Rainbow and quietly asking her something, her eyes so concerned, and so
