Chapter Nineteen. When the Pretending Gets Too Close to the Truth
Chapter Nineteen
WHEN THE PRETENDING GETS TOO CLOSE TO THE TRUTH
JAMES
After I shower and change, I head to the main house. Walking across the field feels like trudging toward execution. My stomach coils. They aren’t kicking you out, I try to reason with myself. Still I can’t stop thinking. They haven’t kicked me out … yet.
Farren and her parents have convened in the living room like a family meeting.
I don’t think I’ve had a family meeting before.
Wait. Never mind. There was one, recent, and during which my dad ordered me to bail off Hort to claim my broken arm wasn’t his fault.
I can’t forget the sound of my mom crying beside him, Dad threatening her to shut up or else.
If he’d physically broken me that day, he’d emotionally shattered my mother.
After I’d agreed to the plan, she’d crept into my room that night, a new hardness to her voice as she spoke of me staying elsewhere over the summer, of us truly and finally leaving.
Only for me to later demand I stay with the Walshes.
What a jerk move to just request this, to let my mother use our family privilege to make it so.
And now I know why all three Walshes seemed so cautious when I first arrived.
Not because Dr. Walsh didn’t want my help here.
Because I could ruin their lives. Maybe it’s me. Maybe my mere presence ruins things.
On top of that Dr. Walsh had only one rule—stay away from the cliffs.
Even if I can get away with pretending I don’t like Farren, I’ve broken the one instruction he asked of me.
The panic I was trying to hide behind deals and jest climbing the cliffs earlier with Farren reignites into something wilder.
I had a whole apology planned. Now, I’m afraid to speak.
“James, take a seat,” Mrs. Walsh says.
I stalk forward and sit as far away from Farren as possible.
She raises her eyebrows like she knows what I’m doing and isn’t impressed.
I should have asked her more about how this conversation would go, what I should say.
Farren’s parents confuse me at every turn.
When they rushed into that cave, they didn’t notice me or the dragons first. Everything revolved around Farren’s safety.
The peacefulness so far terrifies me. If I’ve learned anything, it’s always calm before a storm.
Mrs. Walsh bites her lip as she glances between us. Then she says, “Maybe we should talk with you one at a time.”
“What? To make sure our stories match?” Farren blurts out. “I told you we didn’t have sex last night. I got caught in the rain and borrowed some of his clothes before I heard Nity roar.” She waves a hand toward me. “And James got puked on.”
I bite back a smile in the palm of my hand.
She’s so damn brazen. I can’t be grinning or blushing right now though.
I’ve listened to enough lectures, faked enough apologies.
As I lift my head, I plaster on the mask my father likes best—emotionless and obedient.
“Farren’s telling the truth. And I’ll answer your every question.
I can imagine the first. I’ve already promised Farren, but I promise you as well.
On my life, I’ll never tell anyone about Nity. ”
“On your life,” Dr. Walsh repeats, sounding troubled. “That’s a little much. But we’ll admit, we are glad to hear you’ll keep her secret. I was hoping now that you are part of the Walsh family, you would.”
Everything stills. Part of the Walsh family …
A small part of me, the part that needs to die, has thought of that phrase before, fantasized about marrying Farren one day. Maybe even taking her name and discarding my own. But that’s not what he means—he means in a work sense. That I’m welcome here.
“Of course I’ll keep her secret.”
“Good. Because there are people out there that would take that gold before it can be put to good use.”
Poachers. Poachers who think of pilfering shed scales off a cave floor as nothing more than stealing. As if that wouldn’t kill Nity’s triplets days later.
Dr. Walsh leans forward. “Not even your parents, James. Do you understand?”
“I understand.” It’s not an accusation. It’s a warning.
Secrets can spread. This secret wouldn’t have to spread far for those dragons to be in danger.
First in line for their gold would be my father.
We’ll find a golden dragon one day. And we’ll make him ours.
Ours, as if nature always bends to humanity, or should.
His obsession over the years makes him the biggest threat I can imagine.
Plus, my parents know too many people in the dragon community, not all of them reputable.
Racing appeals to gamblers who appeal to black markets.
My parents’ entire business is only two steps away from poachers and thieves.
And that’s not even considering scalers like Art Whimbley who I’ve seen laugh as he descales a dragon.
I don’t even want to imagine the gleam in his eye if he met Nity.
“We don’t know how long Nity will stay with us.
Maybe until the hatchlings can fly. But we are hoping she’ll come back.
” Dr. Walsh cuts a glance toward Mrs. Walsh.
They look resigned, saddened by something.
I don’t understand why, though. Nity and the babies leaving will be a good thing, less for them to worry about.
Farren sighs, joining her parents in the melancholy. “I thought the same thing.”
“I’m sorry, what are we talking about?” I ask.
“The survival of the species,” Dr. Walsh says. “With Oria silver coated—”
He doesn’t have to finish the sentence. There is only one female, Oria, and she’s silver coated.
Which means while the boys can have alloy babies in the future, a true golden line won’t continue.
Not without a golden baby girl. It’s the female’s metal that matters.
The mother’s genes determine the eggs. They shed their scales to nourish a hatchling’s own protective metal coats.
Unlike humans with the capacity to learn to craft new metals, dragons’ coats are determined at birth and never change.
Though slim, there is a chance Zilar and his future mate could have a golden baby girl when he comes of age, but dragons don’t mate until full maturity at ten. The best scenario is Nity coming back to nest here again. Another nest. Another chance at a golden girl.
Which means this secret needs to remain a secret not for months or years, but potentially my entire life.
Goose bumps crawl up my arms at the notion, the seemingly impossible mission to keep this under wraps for that amount of time.
For these babies to grow, for Nity to come back, for another year of gestation.
No wonder the Walshes are heartbroken. Nity may be the last female golden dragon in the world.
And there’s no guarantee she’ll have more offspring.
Dr. Walsh is talking again. “So that brings us to another point we need to discuss. If you two … like each other in that way…” He pauses, looks straight at me, his expression a tangled mix of regret and suspicion.
He’s not the type to threaten me, but I’ve also never seen that glint of protectiveness in his eyes before.
“We don’t,” Farren snaps. “Or at least I know with certainty, I don’t.”
“You have nothing to worry about on that front.” I try my hardest to mimic Colm’s tone when talking about girls. That cool confidence that sounds like a scoff lies under each word. “I’m not interested, and Farren flat out hates me,” I add for good measure.
“Hates you?” Mrs. Walsh questions, surprise making her voice loud. “Farren?”
I realize my mistake too late. To the Walshes, hate is a negative thing, not classist bullshit that permeates the prejudice in my family. The Walshes don’t hate. They are too kind and understanding for such ugly emotions.
Farren springs to her feet. “Can you blame me? He’s a Murphy.
Until like ten hours ago he thought we were beneath him.
He’s judgmental. He’s arrogant. He’s callous.
And he forced himself here and learned our secrets just because he could.
He’s endangered us all. Of course I hate him.
” She storms from the room, followed with heavy stomps up the stairs.
She’s genius. When the door slams, it’s the perfect end to our first trial of convincing people we hate one another.
Then I spot Farren’s parents, both aghast. Dr. Walsh turns a sympathetic look my way, and my entire face and neck heat.
Maybe that wasn’t her pretending. Her words, echoing in the sudden silence, seem to ring too true.
The knot in my stomach, the one that tightens every time Farren’s rejected me, twines itself into a strangling beast. If that was acting, she’s better than I could have imagined.
“What is with that girl?” Mrs. Walsh huffs in disbelief.
They aren’t used to the Farren who hides herself.
She’s never shown them the toll it takes to keep this secret safe.
Which only further points to that scene holding truth.
I know she feels more negative things than she lets on, so it makes sense that I might have finally heard what Farren Walsh really thinks of me.
Judgmental. Arrogant. Callous. All adjectives I’ve thought of my father many times.
“She doesn’t mean that,” Mrs. Walsh says, as if to reassure herself. She glances at us before announcing, “I’m going to talk to her.”
Dr. Walsh looks embarrassed when the quiet stretches in their absence.
“I’m glad to hear we don’t need to be concerned because—” Dr. Walsh focuses solely on me.
“Farren has heard this many times, but our best advantage is to pretend she and I are still only copper-crafters. You two as anything more than friends and your parents are going to get involved. I know how much they value—”
“Class distinctions. I know.”
He sighs. “When Farren was born, the open marriage laws were still new. Erin and I both said we would let Farren date and one day marry whoever she wanted. But now we find ourselves in different circumstances. I hate to say it, but your parents’ rule is one I need to ask both of you to follow.
” He continues when I open my mouth. “I know. I heard you. You don’t like each other like that. I just wanted to say my piece.”
Okay. That’s okay. I can follow the same rule. It’s not like I had a chance, I tell my aching heart. Besides, I need to ask a more urgent question.
“I shouldn’t have forced my internship here. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for all the trouble I have put you through.” The next question comes out weak. “But may I stay?”
Dr. Walsh rubs his forehead. Any hope I harbored flutters like a fire striving to stay lit.
“That was never in question, James,” Dr. Walsh says.
“We’ve appreciated everything you’ve done.
Helping Farren with Nity’s eggs more than makes up for any trouble.
In fact, I could see you being an extraordinary veterinarian if that is ever something you decide to pursue. ”
Emotion bunches in my throat. I’ve barely told anyone my dreams, let alone heard them validated.
“Thank you,” I whisper, my voice cracking.
A second after the happiness something akin to grief seeps in.
I’m closer than ever to the Revers scholarship, becoming a vet, and buying Hort off my father.
But there’s one part of the daydream I’ll never achieve.
After last night I thought Farren and I had grown closer.
I had begun to hope we could maybe—just maybe—be more one day.
But I’ve asked her to pretend to hate me, and the truth is, I don’t think she will even have to pretend.