Chapter 9
Maeve
I arrive at school early, my body functioning on autopilot while my mind replays last night's events for the hundredth time. My key fumbles against the lock until I steady my hand and finally manage to open my office door.
The familiar sight of children’s drawings and health education posters usually calms me. Today, it just reminds me of the tonic Lorian and I made together in my kitchen before everything went sideways. Or not so sideways, depending. I really don’t know.
"Get it together, Maeve," I mutter, pushing the door open.
Sunlight streams through the large windows overlooking the playground, casting warm patches on the colorful dental health posters that line my walls.
The examination table with its fresh paper cover sits ready in the corner, next to the privacy screen painted with cartoon animals.
Everything is in its place, organized and prepared for the day ahead.
Everything except me.
I drop my bag on the desk, nudging aside the framed photos of my family to make room for the bottles of tonic I've brought.
Each dark glass container holds the bitter concoction that might prevent the Pixie-Pox from spreading further.
I line them up in neat rows, trying to focus on the task at hand.
But no matter how hard I try, all I can think of is that kiss.
My fingers unconsciously drift to my mouth, tracing where his kiss still burns in my memory. The intensity in his ice-blue eyes when he looked at me. The way his perfectly controlled demeanor shattered when he pulled me against him.
And then he ran! What is the matter with this guy?
I shake my head, annoyed with myself for dwelling on it. There are more important things to worry about than Lorian Reizenhart's mixed signals. Like how to convince a school full of children to swallow medicine that tastes like swamp water.
The door bursts open without warning, and I nearly knock over the bottles in surprise.
"You look like something the cat dragged in, chewed up, and spat back out," Harriet announces cheerfully, pushing the door closed with her hip. She balances two coffee cups in her hands, steam curling from the lids.
And I love her so much for it, my eyes sting.
"Good morning to you too," I reply, accepting the offered coffee with gratitude.
Harriet's sharp eyes miss nothing as she takes in my appearance. I know what she sees, the dark circles under my eyes, my usually wild hair looking even more haphazard than normal, the same cardigan I wore yesterday because I grabbed the first thing I saw this morning.
Because I woke up late and lingered in bed after dreaming of him.
"Okay, spill it." She perches on the edge of my desk, her colorful skirt pooling around her. "What's wrong? And don't tell me 'nothing' because you're practically vibrating with something, and it's not just caffeine deficiency."
"I was up late preparing the Pixie-Pox tonic," I say, gesturing to the bottles. It's not a lie, just not the whole truth. “If we can get the kids to take it, we have a chance of stopping this whole outbreak before it spreads like wildfire in the school.”
“Uh-huh. And I'm secretly a mermaid.” Harriet narrows her eyes. "Come on, Maeve. This is me you're talking to."
I sigh, taking a long sip of coffee to buy time. "Lorian came over to my house last night to prepare the tonic."
“So, it’s Lorian and not Dr. Reizenhart anymore?” Her expression transforms into delighted curiosity and she leans toward me. "Now we're getting somewhere! And?"
"And nothing." I check my watch, expecting the first wave of students with Pixie-Pox symptoms to arrive soon. "We made the tonic. He left."
Harriet chuckles, lifts her brow at me, and gives me that sharp gaze that can keep an entire kindergarten class in line.
"Nope. Not buying it. Your face is turning the same color as your hair. Details, please." Harriet makes a face while she wiggles her index at me. Then her eyes widen and her jaw drops. "OMG, girl! Did you guys do it? Did you have sex with Doctor Elf?"
"Harriet!" I feel my cheeks grow even hotter. "It wasn't like that."
But it could have been. I would have been more than eager to have sex with the grumpy elf doctor.
"But it was like something." She wiggles her eyebrows suggestively. “Come on, you know I won’t give up. I’m not past canceling class and camping in your office all day.”
I busy myself rearranging the bottles that don't need rearranging, because I don’t put that past her either. Harriet is like a dog with a bone when it comes to romantic gossip.
"He brought me roses," I blurt out.
Harriet squeals so loudly I'm sure they heard her in the next county.
"Roses? Dr. Elf brought you roses? Oh my God, I knew it! I knew he had a thing for you!"
"Keep your voice down," I hiss, glancing at the still-open door. "The last thing I need is for the whole school to hear about this."
"Fine, fine." She lowers her voice to a stage whisper. "So he brought you roses, and then what? You made your witch's brew together, right? Did you fly on his broomstick?"
I can’t help but laugh at that. This is one of the many reasons I love Harriet so much. She has the best sense of humor.
"We argued about the tonic." I can't help but smile slightly at the memory. "I said it tastes horrible and no child would drink it willingly. He said children should comply with medical directives regardless of taste."
“Of course he did.” Harriet rolls her eyes. “That man has a stick so far up his perfect elven ass, it pokes out of his pointed ears. It makes him superhot, but he’s still a stiff grump.”
I check my watch again, a nervous habit that has nothing to do with expecting students. My cheeks feel like my entire head is on fire, and I’m pretty sure my ears are just as red.
"And then what happened?" Harriet presses, clearly sensing there's more to the story.
"I asked him why he kissed me the day before."
“Wait, what?” Harriet nearly falls off the desk. “He kissed you before last night? When? Where? How did I not know about this?”
“Two days ago. In his office.” I groan, regretting opening this can of worms. “I went to his clinic with some of the ice pops that suppress the giggles, and then I showed him the book with the tonic recipe.”
Harriet nods eagerly, but I know she doesn’t care about my book or the herbal remedies in it.
"And you're only telling me this now? I thought we were friends!" Her indignation is only half-feigned.
"It was complicated. I was confused. He kissed me, then immediately shut down and went all formal again."
"And last night?"
I take a deep breath. "Last night, when I asked him why he kissed me before, he didn't answer. He just… kissed me again. But this time it was different. More intense."
My mind flashes back to the heat of his body against mine, his hands gripping my waist, sliding down to cup my ass. The impressive length of his erection pressing against me. I swallow, hard.
"How intense are we talking?" Harriet's voice drops to a genuine whisper now.
"Very," I admit. "But then he just stopped, said he had to go, and left. Again."
"He just left? After kissing you senseless? What is wrong with that man?"
"I have no idea." My frustration bubbles up. "One minute he's looking at me like I'm the only thing in the world that matters, and the next he's running for the door like I've suddenly grown a second head."
Harriet taps her finger against her chin thoughtfully. "Maybe he's got some weird hang-up. Or a dark secret. Like he's actually married to an elven princess back in the High Courts."
"Not helping," I mutter.
"Or maybe he's just nervous," she continues. "I mean, have you seen the way he looks at you? Like he's both terrified and fascinated."
Before I can respond, a small figure appears in the doorway. Tommy Fangsworth shuffles into my office with exaggerated lethargy, while giggling behind his hand.
"Nurse Maeve," he moans, "I think I got the Pixie-Pox."
I immediately switch into nurse mode, kneeling to his level to examine him. It takes about three seconds to spot the deception. The "glowing freckles" on his face are clearly drawn with a marker. And his giggles sound forced, nothing like the uncontrollable laughter that afflicts true sufferers.
"That's interesting, Tommy," I say gently. "I've never seen Pixie-Pox quite like this before. Your spots don't glow the way they should."
Tommy's fake giggles stop abruptly. "Maybe it's a new kind of Pixie-Pox?"
"Maybe," I agree, reaching for a wet wipe. "Or maybe it's a case of washable marker. Let's see."
The marker comes off easily, leaving Tommy's cheeks clean but red with embarrassment.
"Do you want to tell me why you pretended to have Pixie-Pox?" I ask, keeping my tone gentle.
“Zinnia and Leo get to float around their bedrooms and eat ice pops all day.” Tommy scuffs his shoe against the floor. “And everybody says it’s cool.”
I nod understandingly. "You know, there's an old story about a boy who cried wolf. Do you know it?"
Tommy shakes his head.
"He kept pretending there was danger when there wasn't, and eventually, when there really was a wolf, nobody believed him." I put the wet wipe aside. "If you pretend to be sick now, what happens when you're really sick and need help?"
His eyes widen with understanding. "Nobody would believe me."
"Exactly. Plus, Pixie-Pox isn't fun for the kids who really have it. They can't eat properly, they're exhausted from all the laughing, and they're missing school."
Tommy considers this. "I didn't think about that part."
"I know." I stand up and scribble a quick note for his teacher. "Here you go. This explains where you've been. Now go have fun with your non-glowing friends, okay?"
After Tommy leaves, Harriet gives me an appreciative nod. "I had two do this to me just yesterday."
"It’s not surprising," I reply. “All they see is giggling and floating. They’re just children, after all.”