The Forgotten Fairytales (6 page)

“Now, you’re going to be on my side from now on, right?” she asked, though it was clearly rhetorical. James nodded robotically.

I didn’t even realize I’d been holding my breath until they left the room and I gasped for air, my hands shaking. A million questions barreled into my mind. My first day in a new place and I was certain “Cinderella” was a devious bitch who drugged her “Prince Charming”. This was so not in the storybooks.

The only light in the common room was the last remaining embers in the fireplace. Tugging the blanket over my bare shoulders my stomach growled, angry that all I ate today was the top of an orange scone. Had the day ended already? It felt like an eternity had passed since I saw April last.

Scanning the dorm, there were no guards. No adults monitored our actions whatsoever, which I found strange, but also good, that meant no one stopped me and my warm blanket from leaving the wing. Where had April said her dorm was again? Damn I didn’t pay attention and I had no map. But I had to get out. After what I’d seen, I needed to clear my mind and make sure my sister was okay. The main staircase took me to the second floor, the floor we entered the tower on. The halls were dark and quiet.

In the hallway, from the tower to the main building, the ceiling was so low claustrophobia I didn’t know I had kicked in. For a millisecond I debated turning around but decided against it. April. I had to find April. And not think about my cracked out roommate.

At the entrance to the main building was a map. Each tower was labeled, but the Heroes and Sidekicks were put together. I gritted my teeth and pushed through the door to my left, the one in the general direction of her dorm.

Still, I couldn’t believe people thought they were story book characters. If this was a school of superheroes I wouldn’t have had any trouble finding April. We’d be like Cat Woman and Bat Girl, and find some neat way to communicate instead of me walking through the creeptastic school alone, at night, searching for a girl who I didn’t really think cared if I found her or not. I pushed the thought out of my head and frowned as I stopped in front of a door leading into the courtyard.

Ugh.
Outside was chilly. Too chilly for my taste. I powered through, ignoring the way the cold wrapped around my skin, biting at me like bee stings. The blanket slipped down my arm, I tugged the smooth satin back on my shoulder and shivered. Trees swayed in the darkness, shadows slipping over the once-lit parts of the trail. I drew my arms in, holding myself tight.

Relax, Norah.
Despite the voices in my head yelling to turn around, I advanced, hyper aware of every sound, jumping like I was in a haunted house at the fair.

“Sneaking out already?”

My breath caught in my throat at the sound of a deep, husky voice, a tinge of an accent which I decided was Eastern European. Shadows dimmed the features of the boy stepping from behind a willow tree. My shoulders relaxed and I found myself rolling my eyes just having him near me.

“Not even twenty-four hours in. I’m impressed.” Wolf leaned his hip against the willow, a lazy grin playing at the edge of his lips.

Closing most of the gap between us I walked over to him, holding the blanket tight over my chest. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m trying to find my sister.”

“Right.” He nodded, a mess of dark waves fell forward, the lack of light making him appear darker, haunted, and oddly appealing. You know, for a guy obsessed with wolves. “How’s that going?”

I narrowed my eyes at his amused tone and rolled my shoulders back. “Oh great. We’re on our way to have tea with the queen.”

Using the heel of his boot, he kicked off the tree and stepped closer. “Tea with the queen. My, oh my, princess, you must be very important.” The pleasure in his voice irritated me, crawling under my skin like fire ants.

“Oh.” I forced a grin despite my grinding teeth. “I am.”

I pivoted away, continuing toward the direction I hoped would bring me closer to April. This conversation with Wolf Boy had gone on long enough.

“You shouldn’t wander alone,” he called out. “Not this late anyway.” His footsteps trailed behind, until he caught stride next to me

“I’m not afraid of anything.”
Especially people who think they’re story book characters.
Though there was reason to think they may be clinically insane. “And I’m certainly not afraid of the night.”

“Of course you’re not,” Wolf replied, a smile in his voice “And while I’m sure your directional skills are as exquisite as your ability to converse without insulting me, you should know you’re going the wrong way.”

Crap. I faced him, frustration beating heavy against my now warm skin. “You couldn’t have told me that earlier?”

He shrugged. “What fun would that be, princess?”

“Stop calling me that!” I resisted stomping. “I’m no princess.”

“Not yet.” A muscle in his jaw jumped. “But you will be.”

Before another word was said, he was gone, and I had the urge to punch something.

By the time I made it back to the dorm it was after midnight, and I was officially starving. On my way out earlier I’d spotted a tiny room with a fridge. I remembered Danielle saying it was stocked with snacks for everyone. I opened it, propping the door on my hip, and gazed inside with hungry eyes. On the top shelf sat at jar of pickles.
Yahtzee.
Pickles were my favorite. Low calorie, zero carbs, mostly water and sodium. I’d sweat out the sodium tomorrow.

Heavy footsteps thudded behind me as I popped a pickle in my mouth. I found myself staring at a very naked chest. A chest belonging to Finn. Sweat pants hung low on his waist, showing off the thin happy trail from his lower stomach to hip bones. Sexy, defined hip bones. Even better. A tattoo of an anchor spread from his ribs and ended below his waist.

Finn muttered a string of curse words and yanked a shirt on, covering the artwork inked into him. “Sorry. I didn’t think anyone would be up this late.” Of course not, it was after twelve on a school night. He strode to the cabinet and grabbed a tall glass. Still, I couldn’t move or breathe. Finn was so beautiful. Was it okay to call guys beautiful? Because he so was.

Finn emptied the contents of the ice tray in a cup and put it back in the freezer empty.

“What’s with the ice?”

“I like my bourbon cold.”

Maybe the rumors that Finn was plastered twenty-four seven were true. They left that detail out of the storybooks. Not very prince-like.

From inside the fridge, Finn produced a baggie of ham, cream cheese, and a large chrome flask—which was hidden inside the ice chest.

Crossing one leg under the other, I sat on the sofa closest to Finn’s “work station”. He took two slices of ham and positioned them on a paper plate, then spread a thin layer of cream cheese over top. Already I wanted to puke. I wrinkled my nose the second he plopped a wet pickle in the center and rolled the ham-cream cheese concoction around it. The smell of pork and cheese did not sit well in my stomach.

“That’s the most disgusting thing I’ve ever seen,” I said.

“Really?” He sliced the nastiness into bite-sized pieces. “
This
tops everything else in the world? Doubtful.” Finn motioned to the plate and already the calorie count piled in my mind.

“I guess you’re right.” I frowned. “One time I watched a kid in the mall eat a tofu burrito with ketchup, mustard, barbeque sauce, corn, peas, lettuce, and I think some other weird tomato-veggie concoction.”

“Now that’s disgusting.” He pointed at me with a knife and grinned before popping a piece of wrapped pickle in his mouth. “This is the food of the gods.”

“More like a sin,” I said. “You just ruined a perfectly good pickle.”

Finn sat on the sofa beside me and forced the plate in my face. “Try one.” No way. The smell made bile rise in my throat. His dark jade eyes narrowed. A playful grin spread over his mouth. “I dare you.”

Shit. I never turned them down, even the nastiest ones, like when Becca dared me to remake the funky burrito in the mall and eat it. I may have puked, but I still did it.

“That’s not fair!”

“Come on, we don’t have all night.”

The plate of stinky pork-pickles stared me in the face. I gingerly picked up a bite and juice oozed out. I almost burped vomit. Gah! This was so disgusting. I couldn’t believe I was in this predicament. “I hate you.” I popped it in my mouth and tried not to breathe. At least until the not-so-cold cream cheese mixed with the ham and the sourness of the pickles.

“You have to swallow it,” he said, half laughing at what I assumed was my pained, disgusted expression. I leaned over to the trashcan nearby and spit it out. Finn offered me a glass and I downed it, barely fazed at the bourbon burning my throat. At least it killed the horrible taste of warm cream cheese.

“Refill?” Finn raised an eyebrow.

I declined, though drinking sounded slightly appealing right now. “I should get going. It’s late.”

“Want me to walk you back?”

“No, I’m fine.” I wrapped the cord of the headphones around my iPod. “Thanks for making me almost throw up. See you tomorrow.”

“Norah, wait,” Finn hopped up from the sofa. “I, uh, I wanted to thank you.”

“For what?” I wasted his food and insulted him on his faux cooking abilities. His cheeks reddened and he wiped his hands on his sweat pants.

“This morning. I feel like I owe you an explanation.”

“According to Danielle nothing happened.”

“She doesn’t like controversies.”
Or anyone disagreeing with her, especially James.
A shudder rolled through me.

“Does this happen a lot?” I asked. “You drinking and passing out?” He let out a heavy sigh and his eyes lowered onto the carpet. “Never mind. It’s none of my business.”

His cool hand gripped mine as I turned to leave. “Norah.” Chills ran up my spine as he whispered my name. Never had I ever heard my name said like that, and it made me feel like something inside exploded. “I’m trying to stop. Really, I am. I just don’t know how.”

I nodded, knowing all too well about addictions. “Find something else. Something that overpowers the drinking, something that inspires you.”

He grinned, mostly in his eyes, his mouth was serious. “Like you?”

A
fter a day and a half in storybook hell, I had learned one thing: Princesses were total bitches.