How Zoe Made Her Dreams (Mostly) Come Tr - By Sarah Strohmeyer Page 0,72
much as reprimanded her, Ian, or, according to all reports, Dash. It was so unfair.
“It’s because you’re expendable,” RJ said, when Jess and Ian were off swimming. “How does that make you feel?”
Perched on the lily pad, I hugged my knees. “How do you think it makes me feel? Like crud.”
“Then why don’t you give me that progress report?”
“Maybe I will,” I said, still unsure of what was right. “I’m not leaving until tomorrow.”
I did not want to think about tomorrow. After tomorrow I’d be in Bridgewater without Jess. Without Ian. It was a double blow.
Jess and RJ thoughtfully went on ahead on the way back to the dorm so Ian and I could be alone for the last time. I was determined not to cry again. Twice in twenty-four hours was over my limit.
We were walking hand in hand up the path through the Haunted Forest, neither of us knowing what to say. I wanted to tell Ian that I really, really liked him, that he was the best thing to have come into my life, ever, but it seemed ridiculous, considering that we’d just gotten together and we’d probably never see each other again.
Finally, Ian stopped right before we entered Fiddler’s Green. “Look. I want to say something.”
“Me too.”
He sighed. “Okay, that’s it. That’s all I came up with.”
“That you wanted to say something?” I laughed. “The entire summer you can’t shut up with your bad puns, and suddenly you’re speechless?”
He ran his finger along my chin. “That’s what happens when all that’s left is good-bye.” He cringed. “That sounds like a bad Sage Adams lyric, doesn’t it?”
“I’ve got news for you. All of Sage Adams’s lyrics are bad.”
“God, you’re great.” Ian bent down and kissed me slowly and softly. It was the kind of kiss you give someone when you’re pretty sure you’ll never see them again and you want to leave a lasting impression.
He hooked his arms around my neck. “I don’t want you to go.”
Understatement of the year. “If you’re ever back in Jersey . . .” I began.
“Oh, I’ll be back in Jersey. Didn’t I tell you? I’m moving in with you for senior year. I hope that’s not a problem, you know, now that I’ve seen your eye tis.”
Senioritis. “That pun is a fail on so many levels. I mean, the last part makes no sense.”
“It would if I were with a bunch of guys.”
I forced a smile. “Just don’t say this is the end, okay? Just say we’ll keep in touch and maybe run into each other, you know, in the near future.”
“Zoe.” Ian did his dead-serious thing. “You don’t understand. Nothing is going to keep me away from you, certainly not three thousand wimpy miles and definitely not the Queen. Don’t sell me short.” He gave me one last kiss. “It’s not over by a long shot.”
Because Jess is Jess, she insisted on spending the night with me in her old bed. I kept the mood light by going over all the crazy things that had happened at Fairyland, like my first and last performance as Cinderella and the time the Queen thought she had been blinded by a dust mote and Tinker Bell’s attempts to do me in.
We’d barely fallen asleep, it seemed, when the alarm rang. My last early morning to walk Tink, and even that chore was bittersweet. I let Jess snooze as I slipped into my shorts and hoodie, wrapped my hair in a band, grabbed my bag, and headed out into the park.
Now that it was mid-August, dawn came later, around six o’clock in the morning, for which I was extremely grateful as I trudged through an autumnal mist over the dew-soaked grass. I let myself into Tinker Bell’s boudoir, roused her out of bed, and snapped on her collar. Tricking myself into believing that this was any other morning and that I would be back doing the same thing tomorrow, I led her around her favorite bush, waving to the Maintenance guys inspecting the benches for gum and the gardeners searching for weeds among the petunias.
When I returned I found the Queen waiting in full regalia, arms crossed.
“I was prepared to exercise Precious myself,” she said. “As I must do tomorrow.”
I sadly hung up the leash.
The Queen flung out her hand. “ID, master key, and telephonic device. We might as well get this over with now.”
“Here?” I was expecting a more formal exit in her office. Not in the doghouse. Literally.