Prologue — Marcus #2
Flowers of all shapes, colors, and sizes are perfectly arranged in round and square patterns around the trees and bushes.
I hop from one bed to the other, changing my mind about which one is the prettiest the moment I see the next. Maybe I can take a few to Mom. There are countless flowers, so Dad won’t notice if some are gone.
My feet carry me between the trees as I follow the trail of flowers. I crouch by every bed and pluck a few colorful ones, mostly roses. Mom loves roses.
A thorn pricks me, and I wince, standing up and sucking on my pointer finger. The copper taste of blood explodes on my tongue, slowly easing the pain.
As I’m about to carry on with flower picking, I hear movement from above. I look up and pause, my grip on the bouquet loosening.
Wow. Dad has a fairy in his garden.
A small, beautiful fairy.
It sits on the branch above me, its feet dangling and swinging, its white sneakers all smudged.
The wind lifts its white-blond hair, brushing it against the rustling leaves.
Beams of sun slip through the gaps and wash its face in a soft glow.
Its eyes are so green, they blend into the garden, turning almost yellow where the light hits them.
But wait, hold on. Where are the fairy’s wings?
I tilt my head to the side, but I don’t see them. Wings, I mean. There’s no glitter on its face either. This fairy is wearing pastel-green shorts and a white shirt as it sucks on a lollipop while looking up.
Do fairies like lollipops?
A squirrel scurries up the tree’s trunk, and the fairy grins and jumps up, then grabs onto a branch and climbs after the squirrel.
“Why don’t you use your wings?” I ask, almost blurting.
The fairy looks down at me, its green eyes going wide as it slips on the branch.
My own eyes widen when it drops, and then we’re both crashing into the grass. My head hits the ground, and the flowers I was gathering scatter all around us.
“Ow.” The fairy shuffles on top of me, then lands beside me.
I sit up as well and pick up the flowers one by one, dusting them off. One of them, the most beautiful red rose, is a bit crushed.
My lips pull downward. I wanted to give Mom this one, then put it in a glass of water, and place it by her bedside table.
“Ahh, my lollipop is ruined!” the fairy says.
No, he’s actually a boy—or a girl. I can’t tell for sure, but I think he’s a boy. Up close, he looks as pretty as a girl, with chubby cheeks and the biggest, most gorgeous green eyes I’ve ever seen.
They’re greener than the grass and every tree in the garden.
Greener than Mom’s spoiled houseplants.
Greener and livelier than life itself.
His eyes cut sideways to me, irritation simmering beneath the surface. “Why did you talk to me all of a sudden? I fell over because of you.”
I can’t tell him I thought he was a fairy, because that’s so stupid now that I think about it, so I clear my throat. “You ruined my flowers, so let’s call it even.”
He shuffles toward me on his knees, throwing down his lollipop that’s covered in grass. His eyes catch a spark of something unearthly, his lips parting as if the words rip free before he can stop them. “Who are the flowers for?”
“My mother.”
The slightest spark flares in his eyes as they widen. “Your mother likes flowers?”
“Yeah.”
“Mine loves diamonds.”
“Can you get her diamonds?”
“No, silly.” A soft laugh escapes him, light as a breeze shifting through the leaves overhead.
Something fascinating happens then. His cheeks crease, and two dimples appear, framing his face like a magic spell.
They turn shallow when he speaks. “I’m still too young.”
“Then how about your dad?”
He pouts, his laugh instantly disappearing.
No. Why are the dimples gone? I like it when he laughs and stirs a beautiful sound in the air.
The boy shifts closer to me, grass staining his knees so that they’re as green as his eyes. No, they’re not as bright or sparkly.
His mouth trembles into a small, reluctant downturn, like he’s trying not to show how much it stings. “My parents are getting divorced.”
“Why?”
He shifts forward further. “Mom said Daddy gets rid of anyone he doesn’t like anymore, and he just doesn’t like the two of us now, so we have to leave for a new home. Mom said he wants to have a new family.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, even though I don’t really know what that word means. I hear Mom say it all the time to people in our neighborhood, and it seems to make them feel better.
“It’s okay. At least I’ll always have Mom.” He jumps up, a grin curving his lips, and he extends both arms above his head. “When I grow up this big, I’m gonna make lots of money and buy her all the diamonds in the world.”
I stare up at him as the sky and wandering clouds frame his face and the dimples, making him look so pretty.
Like a prince.
A fairy prince.
“You can do that?” I ask. “Buy all the diamonds for your mom?”
“Sure can. I’ll be richer than Daddy, and I’ll never kick her out of my house.”
“Me too.” I push myself up, my body angling toward his. “I’ll be richer and bigger than Dad and make Mom proud.”
“Yay! We can be rich together.” He slings an arm over my shoulders, a broad grin breaking across his face.
He smells like the woods and roses, like something sweet and soft.
A small smile tugs at my lips before I can stop it.
I don’t really smile much. My teachers have told Mom I’m a withdrawn child. Bright but quiet. Intelligent but not social.
It’s not that I don’t want to smile, I just don’t like smiling for no reason like other kids do.
But this fairy-like boy is different. His hyper energy is contagious, and I want to be friends.
See what he does aside from climbing trees.
Maybe I’ll be able to smile more if he’s my friend.
“Wow. You look so pretty when you smile.” He places his pointer and middle fingers at the corners of my mouth and pulls. “You should smile all the time—Oh, found you!”
He releases me and chases a squirrel, who climbs a tree before he can reach it.
“Do you live here?” I ask in a low tone.
Maybe he’s my brother.
Dad said I can’t meet them, but this boy was right here in the tree. I couldn’t ignore him.
The boy shakes his head, his gaze drifting up to the branches above. “I came to play with Leo, but he’s sick, so I’m just having fun on my own.”
I follow him as he slowly circles the tree. “Who’s Leo?”
“Uncle Andrew’s son.”
Dad’s son? One of my brothers?
“Are you Leo’s cousin?”
“No.”
“Then how do you know him?”
“Dad and Uncle Andrew are friends, so Leo and I are friends, I guess. But Leo’s always so sick lately, and I don’t think he’ll be able to go to school anymore.” He stops abruptly, spinning back toward me, and I catch myself before I collide with him. “Why are you here?”
I lift a shoulder, not wanting to seem too uncool by talking about my parents fighting.
“Come on.” He straightens. “Why can’t you tell me?”
My gaze flits to the flowers in my hand.
The boy looks to either side of him, then leans in to whisper, “Is it a secret? Is it? I can totally keep a secret. I swear.”
“It’s not a secret.”
His shoulders hunch. “Then you can tell me.”
“Well, it’s my birthday, and Mom brought me here to see my dad. That’s all.”
His eyes widen, excitement bursting through them like a rush. “Your dad lives here? Are you going to live here, too? Will I see you when I come over?”
“I don’t…think so. My mom and dad don’t live together.”
“Aw.” He pats my shoulder softly. “They divorced, too?”
“I guess.”
“That’s okay. We can still be friends, right?”
I nod once.
“Yay!” He hugs me close, squeezing me so tight it hurts a bit, then he pulls away. “Not many people want to be my friend.”
“No way. You’re so pretty.” I bite my lip after I say that, and I feel my ears heating.
“Pretty like a girl.” His lips push forward in an exaggerated little sulk, his eyes flicking up to check if I’m watching. “I hate it when people say that.”
“You’re not pretty like a girl. You’re just pretty.”
His smile stretches wide, warming the edges of his face. “Yeah?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“That makes me so happy!”
I shuffle on my feet, rocking back and forth, and sneak a look at him, because he really is pretty—maybe the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen. Prettier than the anime girls, and I always thought nothing could beat them.
“As your friend…” He rummages in the pocket of his shorts, his tongue peeking out at the corner of his mouth with concentration before he produces two pieces of candy. “Ta-da! Here, I’m giving you these. Happy birthday!”
When I don’t attempt to take them, too stunned to act, he shoves them in my hand.
“This is all I have, and they’re my favorite flavor. Mango. If you continue to be my friend, I’ll give you more. I promise.”
I can’t stop looking at the candy balls in my palm, a lightness blooming quietly in my chest.
An hour ago, I hated my birthday because Mom had been mad since early morning, and she and Dad were fighting. They fought last year, too, and the year before that, I believe. They always fight because Mom doesn’t like it when Dad comes late or doesn’t bring something she asked for.
Little by little, I’ve started to hate my birthdays. I’ve wished my birth date never existed. Maybe if it didn’t, Mom and Dad wouldn’t fight so much.
But for the first time, I’m happy to get a gift on my birthday.
This candy is the only gift I’ve gotten without fights before or after it.
“I know it’s not much, but the lollipop was ruined, or I would’ve shared. The candies are clean. I swear.” He tilts his head to look at me. “Do you not like them?”
“I do. Thanks.”
“Yay!”
“Here.” I pick the prettiest orange daisy from the bouquet in my hand and place it behind his ear, tucking it between the silky blond strands. “I’m giving you this, too.”
“Whoa…this is so pretty!” He trails a fingertip over the daisy, his smile spreading wide. “From now on, we’re friends, okay?”
“Okay.”
Yeah. Right.
Friends.