Ugly Girl Page 6

  “Go get another one,” Bastien said, his head tilted downward, and resting in my palm. His words were muffled and nasal.

  “I know, I know. It’s just such a pain.” Reyn sighed heavily, as if gearing himself up for some arduous task.

  “Get another what? Driver?”

  “Yeah. We don’t know how to use this thing.” Reyn slapped the dash twice. “We’re not from your world, remember? We need a guide.” He displayed the necklace. “This helps. It’s one of the few charmed items that holds its magic up here in Common. It was around before the higher magic was taken from Avalon. Most magic doesn’t work up here in Common. This has a cerveau charm in it, but if a person wears it for too long, it starts to melt their brain after a while.”

  “Well, keep it away from me.” I removed my grip from Bastien and picked up his hand, molding his fingers around his nose so he could keep the napkin in place. “Pinch it hard, and it’ll clot just fine, if it hasn’t already. Keep your head forward, or you’ll swallow too much blood and you’ll puke. Not fun. Got it?”

  Bastien nodded. “You’re not going anywhere, though. Don’t get any ideas. Just because you got in a lucky shot doesn’t mean I won’t take you down if you run.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Jeez. Unclench your butthole.” I jumped when Reyn let out a loud laugh that filled the beige interior of the stolen car. “What’s so funny?”

  Reyn clapped his ebony hands three times, the corners of his eyes crinkling with delight. “‘Unclench your butthole!’ I’ve never heard anyone say that before. Oh, I’m using that one.”

  “Spread the love with my blessing,” I allowed magnanimously. “And give me the keys. I can drive us where we need to get.”

  “No,” Bastien ruled. “You’re a flight risk.”

  “Actually, I came with you all by my little self. Lane said to go with you, so that’s what I’m doing. I don’t want you melting anyone’s brains. No one else needs to get involved in your Harry Potter world of craziness. Leave my world be.”

  Reyn cast Bastien an apologetic look. “We really don’t have the time to keep switching guides.”

  “It’s settled, then. I’m using the restroom, and then we can hit the road.” I pointed an accusatory finger at Reyn, who held up his hands in surrender. “And you’re getting Judah out of the trunk. You’re going to make sure he’s nice and comfortable in the backseat by the time I get back.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Bastien’s hand batted at the door before it landed on the handle. “Not out of my sight.”

  “I’m not bolting, and you’re not following me into the women’s bathroom.”

  Bastien didn’t argue, but he didn’t listen, either. He followed me as I walked under the glow of the streetlight to the restroom, and didn’t stop when I entered the vacant ladies’ room.

  I turned and gave him a light shove to the chest. “Gross! Get out!”

  “I said you weren’t allowed out of my sight. We made it this far and finally found you. I won’t throw it all away now.”

  “You are so dramatic,” I huffed, slamming the tan stall door shut. He turned on the water at the sink, and I heard him scrubbing his face and neck. I came out and washed my hands in the sink next to him when I finished, looking at the handful of streaks of red staining his flannel shirt. I gasped and looked down at my own shirt when it dawned on me that my favorite t-shirt might be ruined. “Oh! I hope you didn’t get any blood on André.”

  “Who’s that? Was that the guide’s name? Did you know him?”

  I cocked my head to the side, realizing that only people who didn’t know how to drive cars didn’t know who André René Roussimoff was. “No. It’s the guy on my shirt. This is my lucky t-shirt, but it doesn’t look like it’s stained. Thank goodness.” I let out a sigh of relief as I washed my face of the rest of Bastien’s blood smears. It was one of the few shirts that still fit me after my hump vanished and my boobs sprouted with a vengeance. André’s face was stretched to distortion over my chest, but I could still see his smile that had only ever charmed me. “You thought I was a pill before, but you don’t want to know the damage I’ll do if you mess with André.”

  My eyes caught on my reflection in the mirror, and I flinched, temporarily confused that this was what I looked like now. No more acne – not even any scarring or pockmarks. My hump was completely gone, and I looked, well, like one of the cool girls who ate lunch at the cheerleader and jock table. It was off-putting, to not immediately recognize yourself in the mirror, to say the least.

  Bastien rolled his shoulders back, looking at himself in the mirror in that self-satisfied way only the insanely good-looking people can. “Lucky t-shirt, eh? I never put much trust in luck.”

  “Well, my lucky shirt ran me smack into you guys, so I guess it’s losing a little of its mojo.” I dried my hands, trying not to be thrown by my reflection that I still wasn’t used to. It was like someone had hired an actress to play me in the real-life version of my biography. Totally trippy. “How far is the drive?”

  “Two more moons probably.”

  “That means nothing to me. Miles. How many miles?”

  Bastien shrugged and wiped off his face. “We’ll get there when we get there, Princess. The trick to not getting caught is to keep moving. We should go.” His stubble was clean and devoid of the violence I’d spilled on it, but the nose that matched his stern jawline was puffy at the bridge.

  I winced, hoping I hadn’t broken it. “Oo. That looks bad.”

  He sniffed a couple times, and we were both a little relieved that his nose still served its basic function. He splashed a little more water on his face. “That didn’t feel like your first fistfight. I hate to compliment the girl that gets one in on me, but that was a good shot. A lucky shot.” He narrowed one eye at me while his face dripped over the sink. “The luckiest of your life. It’s not likely to happen ever again, so don’t get cocky.”

  I grinned at him. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Princess.”

  “You’re the princess. I’m the muscle.”

  “I don’t like being called that. It suits you far better. You want me to carry you over any puddles we come across on the way to the car?” I teased, tearing off a few beige paper towels from the dispenser on the wall. I took a chance and dabbed at his face instead of simply handing him the wad of paper towels. There was something about him that made me want to lean closer, despite my better judgment. I could tell that he was equally confused that he’d let me into his body space, but neither of us pulled away. My hands were gentle as I blotted the water from his cheeks and chin, but my heart was working up a pounding rhythm that made me question my sanity. He studied my face while I let my hands linger long past any sort of practical need. His face was dry, and suddenly so was my mouth. My fingers grew a mind of their own, deciding with their sentient powers to take up residence along his jawline. His lashes fluttered shut, allowing me to study his features without having to own up to the crime. He had a notch taken out of his left eyebrow, a scar running clean through it from his hairline downward. Instead of recoiling, I leaned in closer to get a better look.

  I froze, suddenly all too aware of how forward and downright reckless I was being. Bastien’s eyes opened, and he seemed to be thinking the same thing about his own actions. He cleared his throat. “What were we talking about?”

  I stepped away and tossed the paper towels in the trash, rolling my shoulders back as if nothing freakish had just happened between us. I’d had a crush on Jake for two years, and I hadn’t been able to get within three feet of him without running away like a giant chicken. I turned and straightened my ponytail in the mirror. “We decided you would be the pretty princess, and I’d be the knight in shining armor.”

  I could hear the tease in his voice. “Is that so?”

  “Don’t you worry. If the big kids start picking on you, just tell me and I’ll take care of it.”

  He mimed laughing, clutching his tight abs and tilting his h
ead back before casting me a simpering look. “Hilarious.” Bastien walked next to me as we made our way back to the car through the crisp night air. I felt the animosity between us dying down in layers.

  Reyn handed me the keys and sat in the passenger seat next to me, with Bastien spreading out in the back next to a slumped and unconscious Judah, who’d been buckled in. I started the engine and pulled back onto the freeway. “Okay, guys.” I cleared my throat and tried to feign a calm I didn’t feel. “Tell me what I’m about to walk into.”

  7

  Brownies and Bastien

  “You’re telling me you’re a Brownie? Like, a Girl Scout?” It was nearly half an hour into their “the truth is out there” speech, and I was no closer to understanding any of it.

  Bastien gave a derogatory grumble, but Reyn was patient. He was leaned back in the passenger seat, with his hands folded behind his head, as if he was lounging on the beach. “We’re not girls. We’re men. Are the genders really so difficult to spot in your world? I can tell you’re a girl easy enough.”

  I pursed my lips and shook my head as I held tight to the steering wheel. “That’s not what I meant. Never mind. I know you’re men. What’s a Brownie, then?”

  “Bastien’s a Brownie. See his brown hair? Brown eyes? It’s one of the races in Faîte. There are three different types of Fae. Bastien’s the Brownie kind.”

  “What does that mean? Like, does that come with perks?” All I could think of to equate it with were video game stats, fantasy fiction and sci-fi movies. Judah was big into those, so I’d learned enough to fake my way through a conversation about RPGs, LARPing and whatnot.

  “It’s mostly the normal Fae stuff,” Bastien answered, sounding bored as he stared out the window in the backseat. “Most of our more impressive magic was lost a long time ago. We’re not all that different from Commoners.”

  “You say you’re a fairy, right? All that tells me is that you live inside of flowers, fly around and sprinkle people with glitter. The only fairies we’ve got around here are the fictional kind in books and movies. I assume you don’t live inside of a tulip, right?”

  Bastien blinked at me, catching my eye in the rearview mirror. “You’ve got to know how little any of that made a lick of sense to us.”

  I shrugged. “Well, we don’t have super powers here. Not sure if you’ve noticed, but we don’t have fairies that aren’t fictional. Start at square one.”

  “Square one? Okay. If I’d had access to the old magic that isn’t around anymore, I could’ve turned myself invisible if I was very powerful,” Bastien offered.

  I looked in the rearview mirror. “Let me see.” I slapped my knee and giggled. “Get it? I couldn’t see if you were invisible.” My laugh trailed off without the other two joining in, but I didn’t care. “Whatever. My jokes are awesome.”

  Reyn eyed me as if I was a peculiar bug who’d just told him she was really an elephant. “You’re much better company than the last guide. They can’t talk when the necklace takes their will, so it makes for a pretty boring trip.”

  “Yikes. The more you talk about your necklace and its powers, the less I like it, and the less good I feel about you for using it on some poor, unsuspecting victim.”

  Reyn shrugged, unperturbed. “I’m okay with that. We were talking about Brownies.”

  “Ah, yes. Tell me all the things that make Bastien sparkle and compensate for the short end of the stick personality he got stuck with.”

  Reyn chuckled, casting me a sidelong glance before continuing. “Well, when we’re in our own world, he’s even less sparkly, if you can imagine.”

  I raised my nose in the air. “I simply cannot picture Bastien without a hefty dose of I’m-so-pretty.”

  Reyn smiled at me. “I’m a Rétif, which is the second kind of fairy. There are Brownies, Rétifs and the rest of the Fae.”

  “Hit me with it.” I gripped the steering wheel, trying my best to keep my head above water as the bottom of my reality dropped out from under me. I kept my chin up, not wanting to be caught crying or cowering again. We were equals now. They had superpowers, but I was in the driver’s seat. Ka-blam.

  “Brownies are known mostly for being house guardians. They can give themselves to a household, and they’ll help make it function. Milk the cows, clean the house, look after the kids, keep the home safe. Things like that.”

  “Makes sense. So who do you work for?” I asked.

  Bastien and Reyn’s intake of breath told me I’d said something offensive. Bastien’s answer came back in a verbal slap. “Brownies don’t work for anyone. We can leave whenever the family grows ungrateful or treats us like their slave. It’s a noble profession. Brownies aren’t nursemaids.”

  I raised my eyebrow and looked at him in the rearview mirror, sizing up his flaring attitude. “Fine. Who do you work with?”

  “No one. That life’s not for me. It drains a lot of magic out of you when you take on a household. Calling a family your home? No thanks. I don’t want to have to go to sleep to recharge my magic. I like it on tap.” Bastien went back to staring out the window, looking every bit like the lone cowboy his flannel shirt reflected.

  “Huh? Recharge your magic?”

  Reyn filled in the blanks. “People in Faîte generally don’t sleep unless they’ve drained their magic. Brownies sleep regularly, once they start feeling loyalty to a family and take on a household. It keeps their magic fresh. Brownies have the most magic left inside of them after the higher magic was taken from Faîte, since they usually look after a house.”

  “Okay, so Bastien’s only regular powerful until he takes on a family, and then he’s Super Bastien?”

  Reyn smiled at me. “Something like that.”

  Bastien leaned forward. “How has Elaine of Avalon not told you any of this? You can’t possibly be this far behind.” He leaned back and folded his arms across his chest, eyeing the sparse clusters of bushes that lined the freeway in the night. “Ignore her, Reyn. She’s just playing stupid.”

  I had a sore spot for being called the s-word. “Dude, do you want me to punch you again? Because it felt pretty good the first time.”

  “You got in one lucky shot. The luckiest shot of your life. Enjoy your moment, Lost Daughter of Avalon. It’s not likely to come around again.”

  I chewed on the inside of my cheek as I drove, seething silently until I found a tone of voice that betrayed none of my anger. “Look, I’m not the Lost Daughter of Avalon or whatever. My name’s Rosie Avalon, so don’t fancy me up to fit into your Lord of the Rings realm of crazy. Secondly, I know nothing about your world. My aunt told me zip. And she’s not Elaine of Avalon. She’s Lane. If you want to blame someone for me ‘playing stupid,’ aim that noise her way. It was her call to keep me in the dark, so either be helpful or shut it.”

  My phone rang, interrupting whatever idiotic thing Bastien opened his mouth to say. Reyn took out my phone from his pocket like it was a bomb that might go off at any second. “Why’s it doing that? I hate when they do that.”

  The phone was playing a classic – a booty shaking tune that encouraged the guys at the club to grab what they could while they could get it. Judah liked to go in and change my ringtone at random every now and then to surprise me. “Give me that.” I snatched my phone from Reyn, told them not to make a sound and turned the call on speaker, setting the device in the cupholder so I could drive without holding it. “Hey, Jill. What’s up?”

  “Hey, Ro. Is Judah with you? I’ve been trying to call him all evening, but he’s not picking up.” I batted away Reyn’s mimed warning to keep my mouth shut about them. Like I was really going to explain the freak show I’d been dragged into. “Say you know where Judah is. It’s our anniversary, and I’m starting to get worried.”

  I cringed that Judah was unintentionally leaving his girlfriend duties with me. “You tracked him down, but he’s asleep.”

  There were a few beats of a pause that made me squirm before Jill said, “Do you think yo
u could wake him up, or drive him over here?”

  “Actually, I’m not coming back to the apartment tonight. We’re headed home. He didn’t tell you?” I smacked away Reyn’s emphatic “what the flip are you doing?” gestures.

  “Tell me what?”

  “We’re on our way home to stay with Lane for a few days. Maybe longer.”

  Jill’s voice caught in her throat, and I wanted to strangle Judah for forgetting her on their anniversary. Not like he could go on any date now, but still. “Are you joking? He’s leaving town on our anniversary?”

  “It’s my fault,” I offered, coming up with a lie on the spot. “My mom injured herself at the gym. He’s coming home to help me take care of her. Lane broke her leg. Totally laid up in the hospital until we come and get her. I pretty much kidnapped Judah to make him come with me. I’m sorry, Jill. I forgot it was your anniversary.”

  “But the rest of your finals are tomorrow! How are you going to take them if you’re two hours away?”

  I bit down on my lower lip, cringing that she had a very valid point. If I got zeroes on my finals, I might still pass the classes, but I would lose my scholarship for sure. “I can’t think about all that right now. Family comes first.” I inhaled, taking a leap to pacify Jill, who was sweet, and deserved better than Judah’s absentminded professor routine. “Judah mentioned wanting to go back home and see his mom to ask her for something.”