6. What Do You Mean, I’m A Grown Up?
6
What Do You Mean, I’m A Grown Up?
Aliza
W hen our third and final evening in the human world drew to a close, we all bundled into Mum and Dad’s car. Idris and his long legs took the front passenger side, but even with the seat pushed all the way back to my little mum’s knees, the prince still looked horribly uncomfortable. Not that he showed even a hint of complaint as he examined the gear stick and radio with evident awe. When the engine rumbled to life, he let out a low, appreciative whistle, as though Dad had fired up a Ferrari rather than the rusty tin can on wheels that was our trusty old family car. For my part, I stared out of the window, watching my home disappear as we trundled down the street.
When the climbing roses were lost around a corner, the joyful mood I’d harboured since my return ebbed like a low tide, leaving my body heavy and my eyes wet. Mum’s hand inched across the cramped middle seat, closing around mine. I returned her squeeze, but pressed my forehead against the glass, not daring to face her.
I didn’t want to go. I didn’t want to leave my home, or my parents, or any of it. It wasn’t fair .
I wouldn’t let myself cry, though. I’d hold it together, for Mum and Dad’s sake. This had to be worse for them. At least I’d have brutal, horrifying adventures to take my mind off the separation. They would return to their quiet, empty house and continue their ordinary lives.
But for now at least, Dad seemed to be enjoying himself as he lectured Idris on proper clutch control and indicator usage. I tuned into their conversation, and soon, a faint smile crept onto my face. They were such boys . It was a wonder Dad hadn’t spent the last few days teaching his new fae friend about the finer points of proper lawn care, and wowing him with his fancy mower. I couldn’t imagine the prince sharing Dad’s avid interest in gardening, but when it came to the car, Idris was an eager student, drinking in every tidbit of information as though he was swatting for his theory test.
Eventually, he twisted in his seat to face me, beaming. “Next time we visit, I’m having a go of the car.”
“Next time?” I raised an eyebrow. “Who says you’re invited next time?”
Mum clicked her tongue in reprimand. “Ignore her, Idris love. She’s a horror. Of course you’re welcome back again.”
I rolled my eyes at the prince’s smug expression that quite clearly said ‘I have her wrapped around my little finger’. I feared he was right.
“So, how often do you think you’ll be able to visit?” Dad asked gruffly, as though he was enquiring about the weather forecast.
Idris’ expression grew wary. “That remains to be seen. I’ve never visited the human world until now, and I’m uncertain how long its effects will last.”
It hadn’t escaped my notice that he’d eaten marginally less at every meal, picking at his food as though nursing a hangover from hell. If not for his stubborn determination to win over my parents, I suspected he might have refused even the few meagre mouthfuls he’d managed to force down.
He’d glamoured us before we left, but apart from his pointed ears, he didn’t really need it. The ethereal glow had been sapped from his skin, and his eyes had lost their lustre until they could have passed for an almost human-like shade of pale green. He even had shadows below them, so deep and purple that anyone would have believed he worked a soul-crushing nine-to-five in a boring office, with a tyrannical boss breathing down his neck.
I would like to breathe down his neck, or at least I’d like the chance to get close enough to do so. He was still absolutely gorgeous.
I shoved the image away, rearranging my thoughts into something a little less perverted. Poor Idris was sick, and there I was objectifying him. In truth, I felt slightly under the weather–a bit groggy and weak–but judging by his complexion, he felt worse. Not that he’d complained. He’d only given me a gentle reminder, yesterday evening, that we would need to leave soon. It was a mark of how grateful I was for all that he'd done for me that I’d booked the train tickets with only the slightest pang of regret. That regret was deepening with every passing second, though.
“Also,” I added, forcing a bit of light-hearted cheer into my voice, “there’s a lot going on in Neath. It’s not like I’ll be free every weekend.”
I’d explained to Mum and Dad just enough that they knew there was a certain level of unrest beyond the rifts, but I’d tried to dull it down, if only to protect them. As difficult as this parting was, I didn’t want to make it worse by letting them know just how dangerous and volatile my immediate future was going to be. I hadn’t told them that there was a good chance I might never come back at all.
“We know you’re going to be busy, love, don’t worry. You know where we are, and you’re always welcome. It would be nice to see you for your birthday, though.”
Mum’s tone left no room for argument. I would be back home for my birthday, whether I liked it or not. Maelgwyn would just have to endure a temporary ceasefire, or else invoke the wrath of Trish Prewitt.
Idris twisted again, vying for my attention, but Dad spoke first. “We’ll go out for the day. Idris can do some more of this fancy pants magician stuff and make you look normal.”
“Excuse me? Normal?”
“There’s a new Nepalese restaurant in town,” Mum interjected, ever the peacemaker. “You might like it. We haven’t been but they do all sorts of spicy stuff.”
We spent the rest of the journey making plans for my birthday outing, and I let myself believe I would live to see it. That I was returning to Neath, not to stoke war and rebellion, but to begin a new, magical life. One where I wouldn’t spend my days in constant danger. It wasn’t easy. I’d almost forgotten what I liked to do with my free time when I wasn’t breaking curses or fighting for my life.
All too soon, we arrived at the train station in the city centre, and Dad and Idris unloaded my bags. The station was packed with grim-faced evening commuters, on their way home from work, no doubt, but the four of us set off, weaving our way through the crowds.
Even with his human glamour, Idris drew plenty of admiring stares. I couldn't blame the women–and men–who gawped at him. Mum had been shopping and somehow managed to find jeans long enough for his legs, and a black T-shirt that clung just enough to hint at the impressive physique it covered. His arms were bare though, the muscles and tendons shifting as he wrangled my heavy case. Okay, so maybe I was staring, too.
When we reached our platform and found the train that would take me away from my parents already idling, I dropped my gaze to the floor, concentrating on strangling the shoot of emotion that threatened to bring me to tears.
“This is you,” Dad announced needlessly as we arrived at the door to our carriage. As though I hadn’t been painfully aware of every step toward it. Toward goodbye. “You’ve only got a few minutes. Best get on and find your seats.”
My eyes flooded with moisture.
“You’ve got your phone?” Mum squeaked, clearly struggling with a tight throat of her own. “You downloaded your tickets?”
I nodded, trembling. God, I was being stupid. This wasn’t forever. However dire the situation in Neath, I would come back. I’d spend my birthday here, just as we’d planned. It wasn’t just an idle dream; it was a real, proper plan, and I would see it through. I’d see Mum and Dad again. I’d come home.
“I’ll see you soon.” My voice didn’t sound like my own, which was fitting, considering no part of me remained the same, not even my life. Everything was different now, whether I liked it or not.
Mum’s eyes were huge and shining, her lip trembling. Dad stood at her shoulder. The lines on his face seemed deeper than they had been this morning.
“Be careful, Aliza,” he said .
With a sniff, I stepped forward, and two sets of arms closed around me. I screwed my face up, setting tears free. They slid down my cheeks as I hugged my parents goodbye.
“I love you,” I said, and somewhere behind me, Idris shifted. “I love you both so much.”
“We love you, too,” Dad muttered. “This has been the best few days of our life, having you back. Knowing you’re okay.”
Oh, god . The wall I’d built to hold my tears at bay crumbled, and I dissolved into sobs. My parents redoubled their squeezing efforts. Judging by the shaking and sniffling, Mum was crying too.
A large hand squeezed my shoulder, and Idris’ unbearably gentle voice cut through the jumble of sniffles. “It’s time, Aliza.”
I nodded, straightening, and swiped the sleeve of my hoody across my wet face. Mum and Dad looked as dishevelled as I felt. They clung to each other, watching me with identical mixtures of pride and heartbreak warring on their faces.
Idris’ hand slid down my spine, resting in the hollow of my back. I was grateful for the shred of comfort it offered.
“Neath is a hostile place for humans,” Idris said slowly, “but it hasn’t always been, and I hope that it will return to the way it once was, before long.” He hesitated as all eyes turned to him. “When that time comes, there is no reason that you should not live in Neath, with your daughter, if that is something you would cons–”
“Really?” I stared up at him, hope beaming through the dark crevices of my chest like a floodlight. “They could live there? With me?”
I glanced at my parents, who both stared at the prince, open-mouthed .
“Theoretically, yes. Why not? You made it through. You lived there as a human, for a while.”
Mum and Dad looked between me and Idris, and each other. “It’s a kind offer, lad, but we’ve got our jobs to think of, and the house–”
“If it is a matter of gold, I have more than I know what to do with. I would be honoured to assist.”
My heart grew and grew, until it threatened to burst out of my ribcage. Idris was a prince, and money probably meant nothing to him, but for me, for my parents, who had so often gone without… he couldn’t possibly understand how much his offer meant to them. To me.
“Think about it,” I said before Dad’s pride could get in the way. “Yeah? Just consider it. It wouldn’t be just yet, anyway, so there’s no rush to decide anything.”
I’d tie them up and throw them in a sack, dragging them to Neath if that was what it took. I’d have them with me. I’d find them a cute little cottage just like the one I’d stumbled across in the woods. Dad would love it. The flowers, the birds, the fish. And Mum would go mad for some of the fae fashions.
Somewhere along the platform, a whistle sounded, signalling the train’s imminent departure.
“Go! Quick!” Mum ushered me and Idris onto the train. “Thank you for the kind offer, Idris love. It’s a big decision, and there’s lots to think about, but we will think about it.”
“Promise?”
Mum smiled at me, and this time, there was hope mingling with the sorrow. “I promise. Maybe we’ll come and visit you before we decide. God knows, I could do with a foreign holiday. ”
I laughed as the doors began to slide shut, giddy with my newfound happiness. “Bye, Mum, Dad. Love you!”
Their voices were cut off as the doors closed, but they waved frantically, beaming through the glass. Mum blew kisses, and I pretended to catch them as the train pulled away. In a matter of seconds, my parents faded to specks, then disappeared altogether, leaving me pressed against the glass, the rumble of the train and the murmur of chatter drifting from the carriage suddenly deafening.
With a deep breath, I turned to Idris. His gorgeous face was arranged into a wary show of concern, as though he half-expected me to crumple into a blubbering heap. I wasn’t sure that he was wrong, but I attempted a small, if watery, smile. Somewhere, beneath the misery and the new, wild hope the prince had just ignited, a flurry of excitement stirred. I might not have chosen this new, dangerous life I was embarking on, but I’d make it my own, and I’d do it with a friend at my side. With Idris.