Faetality |✓|

Chapter Twelve, Part Three - Deadly Confessions

"Well, I could come with you," Lana glumly offered, digging through her backpack for her own change of clothes. "Besides, it might be really awkward if I stayed. And pancakes are only my second favorite breakfast food –"

"Lana, you should totally stay for breakfast," I firmly assured. "That way you get your pancakes and Margie doesn't have to walk to school alone."

"Yeahhhh..." she said slowly, giving me a critical look. "But what about you? Is everything ok?"

"Yep," I lied busily, kicking the closet door halfway closed with my foot and crossing the room to dump my clothes in a pile on the bed. "I'm gonna find Westley before school starts. There's no way I can sit through my classes without talking to him first."

"Okay, but are you sure you don't want me to –"

"Yes, I'm sure," I replied a bit hotly, immediately feeling guilt at the wounded look on my friend's face.  "I just... I really wanna do this alone."

It wasn't a complete lie. I really did have to speak with Westley. I just didn't think I could make it through an entire breakfast with Dad and Margie. How could I pretend as if everything in our family was ok when really our home was falling apart, brick by brick?

"And what about Margie? I don't think she'd want you to go alone. In fact, I think she'd want to go with you. If you'd just think about telling her the truth –"

"I'm not doing that," I said, having to work very hard to keep the sharpness from my voice. "Telling Margie the Ice Queen never showed was the best thing I could do for her. What good could from the truth? She'd be terrified. She could change her mind or tell my Dad. She thinks she can handle this, but trust me, she can't. I can barely deal with this."

"An edited version would still be better than a lie," Lana muttered, biting her cheek and across the room.

"I'm sorry, come again?" I sweetly replied with false sweetness.

"You promised her the truth and you're not delivering. If you really thought Margie wasn't mature enough to deal with this then you wouldn't have told her you were Fae in the first place. I think you told her you were Fae because... because you're the one who's terrified. You want her to keep thinking you're the same, protecting big sister – that you have everything under control – when deep down you don't even sure you know how to protect yourself."

"I'm just try-ing to pro-tect her," I said in icy slowness.

"Lying to someone is never protecting them. It's more like shoving their head in the sand so they don't see the incoming tide."

"You've known me and my sister for three seconds and all of a sudden you think you're qualified to break down my relationship with my sister? Well, sorry to burst your bubble Dr. Phil, but you don't know Margie. And you don't really know me either. So spare me from bringing out the macramé beads and macaroni drawings. I've had enough counseling this week."

Lana said nothing. Instead, I watched her face turn scarlet and as a punishment felt even worse. In hurting her I had only hurt myself, but I could admit that at the moment I just didn't have the character to apologize. It was terrible, but for once I just couldn't bring myself to say that I was sorry. I was always backing down and apologizing. And suddenly, I was sick of it.

"You can use my bathroom to shower," I said, thinking of my father and feeling like a giant hypocrite as I scooped my clothes into my arms. "I'll take the guest one down the hall."

And with that I marched from the room and slammed the door shut behind me.

*  *  *

A half hour later I stepped outside and the cold November air hit me hard across the face. I looked around, wondering when it was that all the leaves had decided to fall from the trees, and exactly when our long-time neighbors across the street had decided to leave and put their house for sale.

I pulled the hood up on my winter jacket to protect my still-damp pony-tail, and stuffed my mitten-less hands deep within the pockets. I've missed so much and it's only been days, I thought, looking upwards toward the grey, winter sky. It's funny – I remember wondering why my life had to be so boring, so ordinary and just wishing that it could be different. And now... now I wish more than anything that it would've stayed the same.

It was regretful thoughts such as these that occupied my mind all the way to school. And it wasn't until I was standing outside his classroom door and peering at him through the small glass window that I realized I should've spent the walk rehearsing what to say.

"Just do it – get it over with," I muttered to myself, grabbing the knob and twisting before I could give myself time to reconsider.

"We need to talk," I announced, stepping inside the classroom and even going so far as to lock it after I'd shut it behind me. He was sitting behind his desk, apparently grading papers, looking every inch the young, innocent teacher the rest of his pupils believed him to be. Even more resentment swelled within my breast when I realized, with more regret, that I couldn't be so ignorant too.

I picked the desk directly opposite his and sat on top of it, dropping my backpack to the floor. And all the while he continued to say nothing, looking neither surprised, nor shocked, nor even perturbed. He just... waited. And patiently, for once.

"As much as it sucks to admit it – I understand why you lied. You're on the run and you're trying to protect yourself from a Queen straight out of Alice and Wonderland who likes to freeze people and occasionally feed prisoners she's killed to her guests. So, no, I can't be mad at you for that. But..."

I trailed off, losing the words.

"Go on, say it," he said quietly, looking at me from dark, steady eyes.

"In order to continue understanding, I need something from you – the truth. I had parley with the Queen last night. I know she's my Aunt and I know the Knight is her sister. And I also know..." I paused and shut my eyes for a few seconds. "That my mother was their sister and for some reason they seem to think you took her from them – from me."

At this last part, Westley was finally forced to break eye contact, and whether that was from guilt or sorrow, I knew not.

"And the only thing I can come up with to justify what they say you did is by believing that she was like them – evil." I said, raising a shaking hand to wipe a tear from one eye. "She wasn't good, she did something bad or you had to defend yourself and you killed her –"

I didn't notice the rising wind until papers were flying from Westley's desk and whipped to and fro about the room. Terrified and angry at all once, I felt this rising pressure building within me, growing stronger with the wind. Up above, the white fluorescent bulbs flickered in the ceiling, and the class posters and flyers threatened to come free from the walls.

"What's happening?" I cried, jumping off the desk and out of the way as a sheet of paper almost collided with my head.

"Yeh're happening!" he replied, forced to raise his voice above the growing noise. It's yer power, Tamsyn, - it's growing. Yeh have to control it or you could take the whole buildin' down!"

Upon hearing this I squeezed me eyes shut and did my best to again will it to stop, but this time it didn't work. It was like this black hole had opened up within me and I had nothing around to plug it back up. That was how giant the hurt was.

Suddenly, I was forced to open my eyes. Westley was standing in front of me, with his hands wrapped tightly around my arms, and together we two became like the calm eye of a storm.

"Yeh're wrong," he said shaking his head. "Yer Ma was the best thing that could've happened to the Dark Fae. Hell, she was the best thing that could've happened to me. I wouldeh' died for her and many times I came damn near close to it. I never hurt her, Tamsyn. But I might as well have killed her."

And just like that the room was still again. Shaking, my face covered in silent tears, I stared back at him as white sheets of paper came floating down around us like angels descending from heaven.