Lament: The Faerie Queen's Deception
“Well, they used to sell just ice to people, way back in the old days, before fridges, I guess. Then, ice, now, ice cream. Makes sense, doesn’t it? A sort of logical leap?”
“Do you like it?”
I was taken aback by the question. I didn’t remember anyone ever asking me that question about anything before. “I do. This’ll sound dumb, but I love making all the scoops perfect. You know, center the hot fudge, just the right number of swirls to the whipped cream, sprinkles go on in the right order so they stick perfectly …” I stopped, because he was laughing. “What?”
“So you’re saying you’ve been a perfectionist for quite a while, then.”
“Oh, shut up,” I told him crossly. “Are we getting ice cream or not?”
He turned off the car, seemingly unfazed by my tone. “I’ve never seen anyone get angry as quickly as you. Come along, my frosty queen.”
“I’m not frosty,” I protested, but I got out and followed him across the parking lot. The heat rose off the blacktop, burning my feet through the soles of my shoes. “I am curious, though.”
Luke’s face was inscrutable. He stepped onto one of the painted lines in the lot, carefully moving along it. I stepped onto it after him, my steps as measured as a gymnast’s, as if it were a balance beam and I might fall to my death.
“Curious about four-leaf clovers,” I persisted. “About them being good luck. And other things, you said. What other things are they good for?”
“Feeding horses?”
Jerk. He couldn’t hint at things and then play hard to get. It wasn’t fair. “What else?”
His voice was level. “Scaring snakes.”
“What else?”
“Curing scorpion bites.”
“What else?”
“Seeing faeries,” Luke said. He jumped from the painted line up onto the sidewalk. “Phew. Made it.” Then he took my hand and tugged me up after him. “Now stop being so clever and let’s get some ice cream.”
I wasn’t going to let him get away with that. I stopped outside the door. “Clever how?”
He wagged a finger at me. “It’s what I like about you. You listen. You watch. It’s how you learned to do everything so well, while everyone else talked over top of everyone else. Now, would you please stop riddling me for half a moment so we can get some ice cream?”
I relented, though my heart thumped as he led me into the frigid air-conditioning. Not normal. Not ordinary. I knew I should be running back home this second, but I was stuck. Stuck as stuck, Luke would say.
As he looked at the menu board, I said, “I never thought I’d be the sort that went for bad boys.”
Luke didn’t look at me, but he smiled widely, the biggest smile he’d worn all day. “No more riddling, remember? What’s good here?”
I’d eaten enough ice cream in place of meals to answer immediately. “Chocolate Dream.”
Sara Madison, a wine-bottle-shaped redhead who occasionally worked with me, was at the counter. She looked at Luke with considerable interest. “Can I help you?”
He politely asked for two Chocolate Dream cones and Sara, with no acknowledgment of my presence, obligingly began to scoop, smiling at him all the while. I leaned on the counter and pretended not to be annoyed. She always flirted with any remotely attractive male who entered the shop, and Luke more than qualified. It wasn’t a personal attack. And if Luke was worth anything at all, he wouldn’t rise to the occasion. Still, I couldn’t help but glance over to see what effect the gigantically endowed Sara’s attentions were having on him. His face had the same mild expression as usual as he counted out six one-dollar bills, but I saw a glimpse of that private smile right before he took a step to close the gap between us.
“You’ve got something on your shoulder.” While Sara watched, he lightly ran a finger across the skin of my shoulder up to my ear. My stomach dropped so far out from under me that I didn’t think I was ever going to get it back.
He said softly, “I think I got it.” Then he turned to Sara, taking the cones. “You can keep the change. Let’s eat outside, Dee.”
Sara’s smile had vanished, and she turned abruptly to begin cleaning the milkshake machine. I wondered if she’d say anything about it to me later. But I wondered more if Luke would ever touch me again.
Gesturing with his chin toward the door, Luke led me back outside into the unbearable sunshine. The parking space beside his car was empty; we sat down on the railroad tie at the head of the space. In the dappled shade and holding an ice cream cone, it was almost pleasant.
I said, “Something on my shoulder, huh?”
Luke smiled and licked his cone. “You wanted saving, didn’t you?”
“You can’t just go and do that to a girl without warning. It’s not fair. I could’ve fallen down or something.”
His voice bordered on smug. “You liked it?”
Cheeks hot, I studied the glistening drops of ice cream forming on the edge of my cone. “What a stupid question.”
“I’m new to this. I’ve never tried exercising this particular repertoire of skills. I’m thrilled that I learned something from watching chick flicks.”
I so wanted to believe him, and I so didn’t. “You’ve had girlfriends before.”
He shook his head. “No one’s ever inspired me to mend my evil ways. May I practice on you?”
It was petty, but I was instantly irritated by the word “practice.” I didn’t want to be anyone’s practice. “No, you may not.”
He sighed. “See, you are clever. Very well. Do you mind if I stick around for a while, anyway? You fascinate me and I want to know why.”
“‘Fascinate’ is a very strong term,” I said. “Plants fascinate horticulturists. Stars fascinate astronomers. Bugs fascinate—uh—bugologists. I don’t know if I want to be studied. I don’t know if I’m worth being studied.”
Luke considered. “Well, of course you’re worth being studied. You’re extraordinary at everything you do. Without any external influence. You’re extraordinary at everything you do just because you try to be. No superpowers. Just hard work. It’s quite amazing. Oh, I’ve done it again, haven’t I? You’re pissed at me again.”
I had tried to keep the look off my face, but I couldn’t. He was wrong though; I wasn’t angry, I was disappointed. For once I didn’t want someone to look at everything I could do and be awed. I wanted someone to just see me, what made me me, and be fascinated. I was so tired of hearing how great and amazing I was from people who would never know anything about me. I had let myself believe all this time that the real me was what Luke was flirting with, not the me destined for CD covers and exceptional alumni lists.