Finding Eden (8 page)

“
What does he have
to do with this?” I ask. Both Brock and Evaughn know that he is
a taboo subject.

“
Sahariel was
following you around and ignoring you. And you fell for it!”

“
Fell for it? What
the hell did I fall for?”

“
Him!” Brock
shouts at me.

I stumble into the back
of my seat. Apparently I had been leaning forward.

“
How did I fall for
him?”

“
I saw the way you
looked at him, how you watched him when you thought no one was
looking. Hell, even now you look like crap simply because he's not
around.”

Brock is practically
yelling. His aura has changed to flashing red and green like a
festive strobe light, but it brings me no joy. It only frightens me.
The fear slowly builds as I remember that the Ferris wheel has
stopped and hasn't started back up and I'm teetering high above the
ground in a tiny space with a jealous madman.

The feeling of fear wells
up inside of me and all I want is for him to stop.

“
Brock!” I
scream at him.

He finally shuts up.

“
I don't know what
your problem is,” I glare at him, “but you know that the
subject of Sahariel is off limits. I don't care how mad, frustrated
or jealous you get, you have no right to say things like that. And
regardless of my feelings for Sahariel, I will never see you as more
than a friend. You are so blind. You need to open your eyes and see
what's in front of you.”

The Ferris wheel springs
back into life and our descent to the ground is silent. Brock doesn't
look at me. I have the feeling he can't. His aura has fades to a more
subdued twist of red, orange and gray. He feels bad.

Our turn ends and Evaughn
is there to greet us.

“
Hey guys,”
she says, “how was it?”

Brock and I get off and
stalk our separate ways, leaving Evaughn completely confused.

“
What happened?”
She asks, “Brock? Eden? Is anyone going to tell me what
happened?”

“
Ask Brock,”
is all I say, and I walk away to go find something that's going to
calm me down. I hear Evaughn as she takes my advice and runs after
Brock, calling his name.

I walk through the
vendors hoping to come across a punching bag or something, but there
isn't. Eventually I decide to stop and grab some curly fries, hoping
that the heart clogging goodness will calm me down instead.

Curly fries in hand, I
walk to an empty picnic bench and sit down to glower. Then I hear
footsteps which stop right next to me. It's Evaughn. I see the colors
around her swirl menacingly and pulse with anger.

“
You know I
thought,” she begins, “I thought you were different.”

She shakes her head.

“
I thought when I
first met you that a guy would never change you, even a popular one.
I was so sure that you, out of all the people, would never change,
would never stoop to their level. But you know what? I guess I was
wrong.”

Then she walks away. She
turns her back to me and she walks away.

“
Evaughn,” I
put my hand out wanting to stop her.

“
No,” she
doesn't stop, “we are no longer friends.”

Then she disappears into
the crowd and I don't know what to do. I've never had a friend leave
me before, at least not my real ones. I always had to leave them. I
have no friends now. All I have now is a guy who follows me around
like a body guard and a school full of people who think I'm a freak.

My vision starts to blur.
I feel my cheeks and they're wet. I never cry. I can't remember the
last time I did. My nose begins to run and I feel pitiful. I feel my
emotions start to overpower me and I know I must look like crap.

The people around me give
me odd looks, their colors slowly changing to swirling muted grays
and blues. Everyone who walks past me has a sudden mood swing as
their happiness takes a nose dive and they're depressed right along
with me. What's going on?

A small group of children
runs passed me giggling, oblivious to me and my current state. Then
they all stop. And then they all begin to cry.

I look around myself. I
can't see anything but muted, murky grays and blues swirling slowly
overhead like a lazy storm. People all around me are crying tears of
unknown origin.

One of the kids plops
down on the sidewalk, their cotton candy falling to the ground but
gone unnoticed. Why are all these people crying?

“
What the hell is
going on?” I ask myself.

My confusion grows as I
look at the people around me, all seemly very sad but not sure why.

As my confusion grows, so
does theirs. Soon the colors are just a huge swirling mass of rainbow
delight that isn't that delightful. They're flashing and changing so
erratically that I can't keep up. They have to order.

People around me begin to
twitch like crazy people, mumbling to themselves and giving each
other odd looks. I look around myself and I begin to panic. I don't
want to get hurt and I'm scared.

“
Please don't
attack me,” I whisper to myself, scared.

“
Eden,” I
hear someone call my name among the crazies, and somewhere deep
inside myself I admit that I actually like that they're here.

“
Sahariel,” I
whisper his name as he reaches out for me.

He holds me then, his
arms forming a protective circle around me. Fear and confusion tamper
with my senses as I shiver and shudder in his arms.

“
Shit,” I
hear him say, his body moving as he looks around, “I wish they
would have told me this could have happened.”

A small part of me
wonders what he's talking about, but the majority of my consciousness
is just thankful that he's here, holding me, keeping me safe. The
world then disappears from beneath my feet and a slight breeze is
blowing through my hair. Then and quickly as the ground disappeared,
it's back underneath me.

As soon as he sets me
down I look around. Carnival goers and food stands are replaced with
trees, the busy streets replaced with rolling hills of green grass
and wildflowers.

“
Where the hell are
we?” I ask as I look around.

“
In a park a few
miles away from the carnival. See,” he points east, “there's
the carnival.”

I look where he's
pointing, the carnival seeming so small at such a distance.

“
How did we get
here?”

“
I ran.”

“
And you carried me
the whole way?”

“
You're not very
heavy.”

“
Okay, then how did
we get here so quickly?”

“
Well, one, I run
fast and two, you're extremely unobservant,” he counts the
points down on his fingers.

“
You realize I
don't believe a word you just said, right?” I stare at him, my
hands on my hips. I watch as the look in his eyes changes, there's
this sort of I-give-up look in his eyes, but he's happy about it.

“
You don't, do
you?” His voice is soft as he asks.

“
Nope,” I
shake my head.

He doesn't say or do
anything for a long time. He just looks at me, and his eyes dart down
to where the collar of my shirt has slipped, the raised edge of my
scar showing. He looks sad when he sees it.

“
I follow you
around at school because it is my duty,” he says.

“
Your duty?”
How did we get on the subject of school?

“
Yes.”

“
So, you've given
yourself the job of being my personal stalker.”

“
No, I'm not
stalking you,” he says, exasperation in his voice, “I'm
protecting you.”

“
Protecting me?
From what?”

“
Hell if I know
anymore. Yourself it seems.” He throws his hands up in the air.

“
Yeah,” I
say, “about that. You seem to know a lot more about what just
happened than I do.”

“
You know,” I
decide to expand on the subject a little, “none of this
happened until you showed up. Until then I was the freak girl with
two best friends. Now I'm the freak girl with no friends and a guy
who's following me around who claims it's his job to do so. A guy who
I get so frustrated with that I never want to see again, but feel so
god damn connected to that I feel his presence across the room.
There's a lot of weird shit that's happened in my life,” I look
at him and shake my head, “but you showing up,
mister-no-colors, really have made it worse.”

All he does then is look
at me. I don't know if he is shocked or horrified. Probably a little
bit of both, but without the colors I'm clueless as to what he's
thinking. Finally, after a few minutes, he blinks and looks at me
again.

I pace around for a
second. I don't know what to do with him.

“
You know,” I
say finally, turning to him, “I don't particularly enjoy being
mocked.”

“
I'm not mocking
you,” he says defensively.

“
Right,” I
put my hand on my hip, “first you act like you're going to tell
me what's going on, and then you only tell me things that lead to
more questions!”

“
I'm sorry.”

“
If that's true,
then tell me what's going on.”

“
Okay,” he
puts his hands up in a calming manner, “okay, just give me a
second.”

He takes a deep breath.

“
Where do I start?”

“
At the beginning,
maybe?” I say sarcastically.

“
Okay, well,”
he takes a deep breath again, “Why am I here? Simply put, I'm
here to protect you. It's my job as your bodyguard to keep you safe.
As part of the royal guard, it's my job to help protect the royal
family.”

“
The royal-”
I try to get the question out, but he stops me.

“
Stop. I told you
I'd tell you what's going on. Any questions you have I can answer
after I'm done.”

“
As far as the
'colors' you're talking about, it's a natural thing that you're
seeing them. Most, if not all, elves have them. It's how emotion is
communicated. The fact that you are of royal decent is the main
reason why I don't have any colors to be seen. In the elf world
you'll help influence how your subjects feel. Make them feel hope
when they once thought all was lost. Since you cannot see my
emotions, you cannot control them. How can I protect you if I'm
constantly being influenced by your emotions?”

My brows raise in a
questioning look.

“
That's a
rhetorical question,” he pauses for a second or two, “I'm
not trying to mock you, Eden,” he steps forward and puts his
hands on my shoulders, “I'm only trying to protect you.”

I stare at him. I don't
know what else to do. How he could have come up with a story that
elaborate in that short amount of time is amazing, but I don't
believe it.

“
Oh, that's rich,”
I say with no enthusiasm, “I can't believe you.”

“
What are you
talking about?”

“
Nothing. Just...
wow.”

I shake my head and look
around. I spot the carnival in the distance. I don't know how I
managed to get in this situation, but I wanted out of it, and quick.
I take one last look at Sahariel, turn my back on him, and walk away.

I walk home and I can't
help but think about what Sahariel said. An elf? How could I be an
elf? And a queen at that. Also, shouldn't you be a princess before
you're a queen or is that just me?

To be a creature of myth
would definitely explain the colors. But my mother is dead and dad is
obviously human. Can't elves avoid dying somehow? I mean, aren't they
super-fast, super strong or just plain immortal?

I kick my feet at the
ground, shuffling my feet as I walk. I try not to think about Brock
and Evaughn, because that would just put me in a bad mood.