“Oh, is that right?” I ask, trying to feign insult, but mostly succeeding in sounding breathless. “Only decent?”
He glides the tip of his nose against mine. “Mm-hmm.”
I pinch the taut skin at his waist, and he chuckles. The sound does glorious things to my insides. Then, finally, Austin strengthens his hold around me, crushing me to his chest, and tilts his head, capturing my lips in a long, searing kiss that has me clinging to his shoulders.
Chapter Twenty-four
The glow of the television flickers across Cat’s face as Lucas and she battle each other. “I’m not watching Entertainment Tonight, TMZ, or anything on E!,” my cousin says as she wrests the remote from his grip. “As far as I know, Mama Dearest is laying low on the scandal scene, and I don’t need any gossip-spewers destroying that lovely illusion. I’m sure I’ll learn all about her latest embarrassment soon enough.”
Lucas and I share a look. This isn’t the first time Cat has brought up her mother when we’ve watched television at night or happened past a row of newspapers and magazines in a store. And it appears as though the longer time ticks without any salacious news, and the happier Cat grows in her relationship with Lucas, the more on edge she becomes. It’s as if she believes she’s only allotted so much happiness in life and is waiting for a villain to reveal the turning point.
Such as she experienced during her journey to the sixteenth century.
Lucas shrugs his shoulders, clearly more concerned with the girl beside him than what is on television. “Not like I’d ever watch that garbage, anyway, dear.”
Cat sticks her tongue out at his teasing tone and shoves his chest when he leans in to nibble the side of her neck. I smile, impressed with his diversion techniques, and Lucas tosses me a grin as he slides his arm along the back of the sofa.
“Or ESPN,” my cousin continues, her tone much lighter than before as she scrolls through the options on the menu screen. “And all those testosterone-filled, boy-like sports channels are obviously out for oh, so many reasons. But—aha!—see, here you go.” She presses select and the screen switches to a man with a comically wide smile, acting as host and mediator between two sets of boisterous, screaming, and frankly somewhat frightening, people lined up behind a long desk. “You can never go wrong with the good old Game Show Network.”
A bright red x blazes on the screen, accompanied by a startling bong sound, and the entire audience boos in empathy. “Family Feud,” she says with a nod. “An American TV classic.”
Lucas rolls his eyes but pulls her into his arms, snuggling her close as they watch the bizarre program. Unaccustomed to the garish colors of the set and the chirping noises emitting from the speakers, I begin straightening the coffee table between our two sofas and attempt to ignore the adorable couple opposite me. It is not that I begrudge them their affectionate display; I’m just impatient for Austin to arrive so that I can have my own. I find that I’ve become addicted to his presence, and the last few days have only added to my obsession. I stack empty soda cups and toss in the crumpled napkins littering the smooth mahogany tabletop, and grin when I spy the half-empty box of pizza.
If Austin doesn’t arrive soon, I’m going to have one hungry boy on my hands.
The skin on my backside tingles at the memory of his playful swat. And when the doorbell finally rings, following another red x and loud bong from the television, I spring to my feet.
It’s about time.
Taking off at a near sprint, I call over my shoulder, “I’ll get it!” As I hasten my pace, my sock-encased feet lose traction on the smooth hardwood floor. I slide into one wall, push off, and grab the corner of another to keep from crashing again, and the disembodied sound of Cat’s laughter trails behind me. “Don’t go hurting yourself now.”
I roll my eyes but slow down, for even I notice my behavior is bordering on frantic. And I’m not quite sure why. Based on appearances, there is nothing to be anxious about. The four of us are simply going to relax—hang out—in Cat’s home, enjoying one another’s company. It will be much easier than any one of Austin’s nonstop adventures. But it doesn’t change the fact that everything about tonight feels significant, important. Almost as if I’ve crossed some invisible line and begun a new chapter in my time-travel tale. And that is why this is such a defining moment; this evening I will truly experience a typical night in the life of a modern teen, one who happens to be falling hard for the enigmatic boy waiting for her.
I glide to a stop in the atrium and check my reflection in the mirror over the entry table, looking for anything unseemly or out of place, any food lodged between my teeth. I pat my hair and straighten unseen wrinkles in my shirt. Smiling at the crimson stain on my cheeks, aware that this time my characteristic blush is not from embarrassment or discomfort but unbridled excitement, I throw open the door.
But it’s not Austin standing on the threshold.
Cold night air rushes in. I feel it, but that is not what brings about my goose bumps. The sound of Cat’s and Lucas’s laughter floats from the living room. They are just down the hall, yet it suddenly seems as though they are miles away. And when the visitor’s identity finally breaks through my thick wall of self-denial, the rest of the world fades away.
Reyna.
Pressure mounts behind my eyes. I clutch my arms around my waist, and the row of bracelets on my wrist clink together with my tremors. I want to ask her, Why are you here? and, Why now? but my voice is strangled by the hopes and dreams that I know now will never come to be. Besides, I already know the answer.
She’s here to take me home.
Before I can tell Austin good-bye. Before I even learn if I won the lead in the school musical. And before my big performance in the workshop.
Did I miss the third sign?
I wrack my brain, trying to remember what she said the third sign would be and wondering how I could’ve missed it. But then, I know why. I was living in the moment, swept up in all this life has to offer—and ignoring what I knew was coming all along.
And life will imitate art. That was the final sign. But art has always been Cat’s domain, not mine. How would I have known to look for it? When did it happen? The very fact that Reyna is here now, after sundown, proves it was today. But what was it?
Fisting a hand over my mouth, I try to conceal my sob, wanting to be strong. For a moment, I believe perhaps my strength can make a difference, that if I act calmly I can somehow change her mind. But my attempt to hide my dread is useless—as useless as begging time to stand still—for nothing can stop the desperate moan building in my chest. It echoes off the cold, hard surfaces around me and reverberates in my ears.
The television in the living room silences.
“Alessandra,” Reyna says, her voice low and unforgettable. “You look well.”
She dips her head, and I notice her long raven locks are disheveled. Almost as if she rode on the wind itself to get here. I wouldn’t be surprised if she had.
I shake my head at the wistful thought and swipe at a falling tear.
Reyna studies my face carefully, and my nails sink into the flesh of my palms as I will myself to be brave. I’ve been here for fourteen glorious days. That is more time than I ever hoped possible a few weeks ago. My weak and senseless tears will do nothing to change my fate. What I need to do—what I ought to do—is show Reyna my appreciation, and let her see that her magic was not in vain. That I’ve grown during my short stay in the twenty-first century and become the strong woman I claimed to be back in my own.