The Fandom(43)

I hear a faint cough from a nearby tree. I feel so dissociated from reality it barely seems strange a tree should cough. The actual, real-life Willow stands before me, all concerned and perfect and warm – of course the greenery’s coughing. No, not the greenery. Nate. It’s my line.

My synapses begin to spark and finally, my throat opens. ‘No, thank you, I’m fine. It’s just a little graze.’ I look at my palm and realize with a rush of shame that I failed to draw any blood, but I push on with my lines regardless. ‘You must be Willow, you look like a Willow.’

He smiles his faultless smile, two long dimples framing his mouth. ‘And what does a Willow look like?’

‘Tall and lanky.’

He laughs, the heat of his breath closing the gap between us. ‘And you are?’

‘Just another Night-Imp.’

‘Really, I hadn’t noticed.’ He moves towards me so his chest almost touches my chin. The words don’t seem cheesy at all now, they seem romantic . . . perfect. And this close, I realize just how tall he is – all the moisture leaves my mouth. He lifts my hand and examines the scratch on my thumb.

I order my voice to stay true, to stay on script. ‘The trouble I would get in if anyone saw you touching me. I shouldn’t even be talking to you.’

He continues to hold my hand and lifts his gaze to meet mine. ‘I’m sure the trees won’t tell.’

‘No, but the stars might.’

He laughs like he’s meant to. ‘It’s a risk I’m willing to take.’

I let the scent of apple and smoke and aftershave fill my lungs. It’s going really well. Not an olive in sight. ‘Why are you being so nice? I thought all Gems were cruel.’

‘And I thought all Imps were stupid.’

‘Looks like we were both wrong.’ I smile. I mean, really smile, not just because that’s what Rose did, but because pretending to be confident and sexy makes me feel confident and sexy.

He releases my hand. ‘You really aren’t going to tell me your name, are you?’

‘We don’t have names . . . only numbers.’ I spin around and lift my hair so he can see my tattoo. The cold hits my neck and a thin veil of sweat evaporates.

He sucks air over his teeth. ‘That must have hurt.’

I nod and suppress a little smile. Willow is gazing at my neck.

‘You seriously want me to call you Imp 753811?’ he says.

I let my hair fall back across my tattoo and turn back to face him. ‘You really want to know my name? Why don’t you guess?’ I would never say anything so brazen, especially not to a boy, it feels liberating.

‘Rumpelstiltskin.’

I laugh. It’s meant to sound like a bell, but it comes out a bit snorty. ‘Almost.’

He touches the fabric of my overalls like he wants to touch me, but can’t quite muster the courage.

Right on cue, we hear a car door slamming. He runs his fingers through his hair, ruffling it up so it’s all gloss and colour in the moonlight. ‘I’d better go.’ He smiles as if to say, Another time, and turns towards the manor.

This is the point in canon when he glances over his shoulder and says the words, Can I see you again? But he doesn’t, he just keeps on walking. I watch him saunter away, the leaves and bark closing around him as though he sinks into a bog. Swallowed up for ever. Look over your shoulder, I scream in my head. Look over your shoulder and say your line . . . please. Fear shoots through my veins – I’ve failed the mission. Thorn will kill Katie and we’ll be stuck in this world for ever. But another emotion simmers beneath the fear: disappointment. He didn’t like me.

I’m about to admit defeat, hot tears gathering in the corners of my eyes, when he stops. And he doesn’t just glance over his shoulder, he turns his whole body. His face hovers in the dark like a bronze heart. ‘Can I see you again?’

It feels like someone has yanked a polythene bag off my head. I want to gasp and heave and suck in great mouthfuls of air, feel my ribcage stretch and my head fill with blood. But instead, I offer a demure shrug, just like Rose. ‘Perhaps.’

He laughs. I watch the triangle of his back disappear and stand completely still for a moment, listening to the rush of blood in my ears.

Nate dashes out from behind a tree and embraces me while jumping on the spot. ‘Oh my God, Violet, that was awesome.’

I start jumping too. ‘I know, I know.’

‘You were word perfect.’

‘Did you see him touch my hand?’ I feel like my body can’t contain this much joy, like my skin’s going to rip from the pressure.

Nate opens his mouth to reply when we hear another voice – familiar and yet faintly bitter. ‘Why didn’t you just tell him your name? It’s so pretty . . .’ It comes from the sky, and for a brief second, I think God himself is talking. ‘The colour and the flower.’ A rustle of foliage followed by a shower of dust and leaves and splinters.

Ash lowers himself so he hangs from a nearby branch, overalls pulled taut across his chest, fingers white and claw-like. He lands a few metres away, absorbing the fall with his knees like he really is part cat. ‘I never took you for a Gem lover.’ A wry smile unfurls across his face, but his voice sounds a little wounded.

After staring at Willow, Ash doesn’t seem nearly so cute. His nose seems a little on the large side, his smile a little lopsided, but something about him looks so real. And those eyes . . . My mouth hangs open for a moment.