It took another two hours for Betsy to fall asleep Friday night, though one of those hours was spent on the internet, madly researching the signs of schizophrenia. She finally decided that whatever had happened to her, wasn’t schizophrenia, much to her relief. She didn’t stare off into space, or have serious mood swings, or the desire to smoke. She did have anxiety and the feeling that her mother was out to get her, but what teenager didn’t?
She had only seen a strange man disappear from her bedroom in a flash of blue light. One second, there smiling, and the next, poof.
Maybe someone had slipped something into her drink at the party, even though she’d been careful to only drink something straight from a can that she opened herself. Or maybe it had been just a seriously vivid dream.
But then what was her snow globe doing on the floor next to her closet? Betsy had stared at it for a moment, before throwing off her covers and straightening her oversized flannel pajamas. She’d set her alarm to go off at 10:12. If she slept too late, her mother would get suspicious, and if she arrived downstairs promptly on the hour, her mom might think that she’d actually set her alarm on a weekend, which also spelled trouble.
Betsy opened her bedroom door, and the smell of pancakes wafted in. Her mom was tempting her to come downstairs. It worked.
“Good morning, sweetheart. How was your night.”
Keep It Simple Stupid.
“Horrible. I couldn’t sleep for some reason. I ended up working on a research project.” Which was fairly close to the truth. “We don’t have any history of mental illness in our family, do we?”
Her mom laughed. “What’s your project on?”
“Schizophrenia.”
“No wonder you couldn’t sleep. As far as I know, we’re in the clear. Your father had a dotty old aunt, but I think that was Alzheimer’s.”
Betsy’s mom rarely talked about her father. He’d been a cop, and was shot a month before the wedding. Her mom had realized she was pregnant a week after the funeral.
Betsy accepted the plate of pancakes her mom offered and sat down at the table.
“What are your plans for the day?” her mom asked.
“Oh, probably just more studying. I’ve got some reading to do to.”
“You know, you should probably take a day off. Call up one of your friends and go to the mall or something. I might be able to find a twenty or two in my purse.” Betsy grinned at her pancakes. Her friends were probably all too hung over to go anywhere today. That was one reason to be a good girl.
There was a knock at the door.
“Could get that, honey? I need to flip these pancakes.”
“Sure.” She swiveled out of her chair and yanked open the door, expecting to find a paperboy or someone selling something on the other side.
“Hi.” Adeo said. “I believe this is a more appropriate way to enter your place of dwelling?”
Betsy slammed the door without thinking and nearly started to hyperventilate behind it.
Her mom came around the corner with a spatula in her hand.
“Who is it?”
“It’s, it’s,” her brain racked for an excuse. Simple stupid. “It’s Adeo. He goes to school with me. He’s new. Just moved here. Doesn’t know anyone… but me. He’s kind of annoying.”
“So you just shut the door in his face.”
“Well, no. I mean I did, but he’s… I’m…” How the hell was she going to get out of this one. Then it hit her. Close enough to the truth to be true.
“He’s cute, and I’m in the ugliest pair of pajamas.” Her mom laughed again.
“Go change, and I’ll tell him you’ll be right back.”
“He might have, uh, disappeared.”
Her mom peered through the peep hole.
“No, he’s still there. I think he’s about to knock again.”
A knock sounded promptly on the door. Betsy took that as her cue to zip up the stairs.
It wasn’t until she was tugging her jeans on that she realized if her mom could see Adeo, then he definitely wasn’t a dream, or a figment of her imagination. She nearly fell over when she thought about what else he could be.
A prince from another world? Like that could ever happen to her. There had to be another explanation.
Betsy rushed downstairs and swung open the front door.
No Adeo. Right. She should have been glad he was gone… but she wasn’t.
Betsy heard her mom laugh from the kitchen. Oh. God. Her mother had invited him in. Betsy whipped around the corner into the kitchen. Adeo was sitting at the table eating a huge stack of pancakes.
“Chocolate, you say? These have officially replaced blueberry as my favorite.”
Her mother beamed, and then looked up at Betsy in the doorway. “Betsy, yours are getting cold.” She turned to flip another batch. “So Betsy said you were new in town. Where are you from.”
“Shudador.”
“Oh. Where’s that?”
“It’s between Edarnia and Normanzie on the coast of the
“I’ve never-“
“It’s in
“I don’t think there are any seas in
“It’s not a sea, really,” she added. “It’s a salt lake.”
Betsy glared at Adeo. He seemed to get the hint, and nodded back to her.
“I didn’t realize there were any salt lakes in
“There are,” Adeo said just before shoveling more pancake into his mouth.
“So Mom, I thought I’d take you up on your suggestion and show Adeo here around the mall. Is that okay?”
“Sure, honey. Just make sure you get home at a decent hour. Do you have a car, Adeo?”
“A what?”
Betsy kicked him under the table.
“Adeo is saving up to buy a car. His parents believe in a strong work ethic.”
His smile told her that he was catching on.
“We don’t mind walking,” she added.
“Let me get that-“ Her mom walked out of the kitchen.
“Don’t tell her any more,” Betsy whispered. “She’ll think you’re crazy.”
“Do you think I’m crazy?”
“Well, either you’re sane, or I’m crazy too.”
“You think so?”
“Stop smiling.”
“Forgive me. I can’t seem to help it.” He was still smiling at her, and his bright blue eyes kept flickering down to her lips in a way that made her heart jump every time he did it.
“Betsy.” Oh, God, he was going to kiss her again, and for some strange reason she couldn’t get her body to move.
“Here’s the-“ her mom came back in the room, money in hand, and Adeo stood straight up.
“I wish to ask for permission to court your daughter.”
Her mother’s jaw dropped and she looked from Betsy to Adeo and back again.
“He really is from
No comments:
Post a Comment