Believing in Blue Page 10

  “I guess I got so used to hiding it from everyone that you just got thrown in with the others.” Mary sighed and shook her head, then looked into Wren’s eyes as she said, “I’m sorry, for what it’s worth. Incredibly sorry.”

  Wren pulled her aunt into a tight embrace: it seemed like the only acceptable response to her aunt’s heartfelt apology. She was doing her best not to cry, because that just wouldn’t do, even if Mary might have handled it fine.

  The tears would have been okay, except she had just learned that she and Mary shared such an important trait. Wren also would have been crying for the loss of Mary in her life, for the days, weeks, months, or, perhaps, the eternity she would be gone. So Wren held them back. She could always cry later, once she was alone. Like she always did.

  “It’s fine, Mary, really,” Wren said to her aunt once she’d let go of her. “I’m just glad that you were willing to tell me and that we have this in common. And…I’ve kind of met someone I like recently, a girl about my age, but I don’t know if she likes me back, or even if she’s gay. I don’t really know how to tell about that kind of thing, not at this point, at least.”

  “Well, I know that if this girl is gay, she would be an idiot to not have feelings for you, Wren.” Her aunt grinned at her and looked downright proud of her niece.

  Wren wanted to tell Mary that she was the one who was probably the idiot, but she kept her opinion of the truth quiet, and instead, she said, “She’s actually visiting from where my dad lives. She’s the one who got me back in touch with him.”

  “How strange! Do they know one another well? Is she perhaps a new stepdaughter or something?”

  “No,” Wren told her, as another half-lie headed straight out her lips. “She works for him, and they’re good friends, but he’s with someone new now.”

  Mary looked almost like she was about to choke on her latest mouthful of soup, but she managed to get it down, followed by a large gulp of water. “Oh my, Wren. How do you feel about that, your dad being with someone new?”

  “Not all that great. I don’t know how Mom will…is handling it, either. I just want it to be okay with her to have him back in her life.” Wren found then that she wanted Torien more than merely “back” in Denise’s life. She wanted them to get back together, even despite the fact that her dad had seemed to move on. As had Denise.

  That didn’t mean they didn’t still have feelings for each other, though, she thought, and it didn’t mean they couldn’t work it out. Wren prayed in that moment that they still had a chance.

  After their lunch was long gone, late in the afternoon, Wren told Mary good-bye, holding back her tears until she was back at the bus stop. Thankfully, she didn’t get any weird looks for crying openly in public. Instead, an old woman sitting next to her offered her a tissue, after asking her if everything was okay.

  The woman might have been nice, but she wasn’t exactly observant. “I’m guessing it’s boy troubles, my dear. Well, I’m sure he didn’t mean to hurt you. You know what cads boys can be, especially these days!”

  Wren made her best attempt not to laugh at the sweet old lady’s words, who, despite her kindness, couldn’t have been more wrong about what was making Wren cry. Instead, she thanked the woman and took the tissue, her tears slowing as the bus moved closer to Wren’s house.

  Where only her mom waited for her, thankfully. And a short distance from her house, Sia, who Wren would be seeing in just a few hours, also waited for her. As she stepped off the bus, she found herself picturing what it would be like if she ever got the chance to dance with her fellow Winged Blue, in place of her floating shirt. It would be lovely, she decided. But that couldn’t possibly be what the radio was for…could it?

  Chapter Fourteen

  Wren ate upstairs in her room that night. Her mom had been snoring loudly on the couch when she’d gotten home, and she hadn’t wanted to wake her. Besides, Wren was getting more and more nervous as the morning of the eighteenth drew closer, and she didn’t know if she could hide the tension from her mom. Not even if she happened to be as intoxicated as she always was by this time of night.

  There was more riding on Wren learning to fly than just the saving of two worlds: she also had to save her mom from Tim. And save herself, too, from Tim, and from this town where she would never fit in well enough. She knew she had only tonight left to learn. So many things depended on her succeeding that the idea of failing was firmly planted in the realm of the unacceptable.

  Wren managed to sleep just long enough for her midnight awakening to be vaguely doable. She was more tired getting up this time than she had been in a while, likely due to all her heavily interrupted sleep those past few nights. As she changed into her last clean wing-shirt, her thoughts turned to her friend Nicole. How would Nicole react, were she to see Wren’s wings?

  Nicole had always been decidedly open-minded, accepting Wren’s gayness like it wasn’t even slightly a big deal. But this…her wings, her coming from another world…it would be hard for anyone to accept, open-minded or not. It wasn’t the right time for her to make up her mind about how much to say, she decided. Figuring out whether to tell Nicole would have to wait, because she had a new friend to meet. And wings to release from their cage, wings that she desperately wanted to lift her into the sky. Once she was dressed, she stuffed the Bernd Heinrich book into the large front pocket of her oversized sweatshirt and walked to her bedroom door.

  Just as she began to turn the knob, she remembered that Sia had asked her to bring her radio. After what seemed like far too long, she managed to unearth it, hidden under a seemingly unending mountain of shoes and old clothes, next to an ancient bag of cookies that couldn’t be referred to as “chewy and fresh-tasting” anymore, Wren thought with a slight smile. Or “edible.”

  Radio in hand, she made her way downstairs, lost in thought. Among her distractions were concerns about Nicole, along with worries about her mom, and those things were soon joined by everything she could possibly find to worry and wonder about. She didn’t expect her tense thoughts to cease for a moment—they were constant company as she walked down the familiar, wooded path. But her mind cleared the second she laid eyes on her lovely new friend.

  Sia was standing in the middle of Wren’s special spot, staring up at the full moon. At first, Wren assumed Sia hadn’t noticed her, but then, in a distant, wistful voice, she spoke up. “Our moon is gold-colored. I always thought it was one of the prettiest things I’d ever seen, but your moon puts it to shame.” Sia’s voice sounded dreamy, almost like she was lost in thought, too. Then she turned to look in Wren’s direction, and Wren could see it wasn’t dreaminess in her voice, just tiredness.

  “I’m sorry you have to be up so late,” Wren told her. “I wish it had been possible for me to get away at an earlier time, but even though it’s only my mom at home tonight, and even though she’s probably passed out by now, I don’t want to risk her noticing me leaving the house.”

  Sia looked as if she were about to ask a question, which would likely be one that wouldn’t be too much fun to answer. Wren turned her gaze from Sia to the moon and decided that if she managed to say just the right thing, she wouldn’t have to talk about her mom’s drinking problem any longer. “You’re right, our moon really is beautiful. But yours is gold? ’Cause that sounds pretty great, too. I’m looking forward to seeing it.”

  “I hope you’ll like it, then.” Sia walked up to Wren and reached out toward the radio. “Is it tuned to a good station? Something that’s…something that’s good for dancing?”

  Sia looked nervous for the first time since Wren had met her, her face normally so filled with confidence that it was a shock to see her features expressing doubt. Was it because she thought Wren would fail to fly again? And if she couldn’t— “Wait, did you say dancing?” Wren had just noticed that word in Sia’s last sentence, and she tensed while she waited for Sia’s answer. She had to have heard her wrong.

  “Yeah, yeah, I did. So maybe you could tu
rn on the radio and find a good station?” Sia looked away now, her eyes settling on the ground in front of Wren’s feet instead of the moon. There was nothing Wren wanted more in that moment than to have Sia’s eyes turn back toward hers. But Sia didn’t look at her again, so Wren busied herself with winding the radio, its handle’s loud whirring making up for the silence between them.

  It wasn’t hard to choose which station to tune to, because a few minutes ago, her bedside alarm had alerted her to the fact that her usual oldies station was playing love songs for the next two hours. It was probably presumptuous for her to pick something so romantic, but she certainly didn’t want to try to dance to anything more challenging. After all, it was her first time dancing with anyone, at least other than her dad before he’d left. And this time actually counted. This was her first time dancing with a woman, with someone she loved to look at, someone whom she wanted to kiss.

  “It’s perfect,” Sia said after “I Only Have Eyes for You” had been playing for a few seconds. It was the very beginning of the song, and Wren hoped the dancing would last till it ended. She placed the radio as carefully as she could on the rock to her left and then approached Sia. As she did, Wren quietly took in how graceful Sia looked in her slightly loose robes, how beautiful her wings were in the moonlight, and especially how Sia was now holding out her hand.

  She took Wren’s left hand in her right, her fingers somehow both gentle and firm in their grip. “Now, you just need to let out your wings and close your eyes. I hear dancing is best when your eyes are closed.” It was then that Wren finally accepted that, yes, Sia did want to dance with her. Maybe not as much as Wren did, but even if she didn’t, it still was enough to bring a soft smile to Wren’s lips as she closed her eyes and released her wings.

  Once her eyes had been shut for a few seconds, she felt Sia place her hand near where Wren’s right wing was attached to her back. Wren risked laying her head against Sia’s shoulder, and Sia didn’t tell her to remove it, instead starting to slowly sway back and forth in a circle. Wren was so lost for the entire rest of the song, she barely even noticed when it drew to a close.

  The show’s host spoke after a second song had come and gone, and then Wren slowly opened her eyes. She was hoping to see Sia grinning, perhaps, or at least a small smile, something to let her know that Sia was glad to have her there. But that wasn’t what she noticed first when she opened her eyes.

  The trees they’d been standing near weren’t where they belonged, it seemed. While Wren tried to make sense of that confusing fact, Sia pulled away from her, letting go of her hand and moving a few steps back from where they’d stood.

  No, not a few steps back, but a few feet back, because now the strangeness of the trees made sense. Wren was floating a few feet above them, the ground seeming like it was miles below her, a horribly far length down, and Wren was…she was…

  “I’m flying? I’m…I’m flying!” She could feel her wings flapping behind her, each of their beats strong and steady, like they’d always known exactly what to do, if only she’d relaxed enough to let them. And that’s what the dancing had done. It had allowed her to let go of all the worries that held her down on the ground, tethered to the earth, tethered to everything that was wrong with her. But those tethers were gone now, and she felt weightless for the first time since her father had disappeared.

  Perhaps because she almost was.

  “Wanna take those bad girls out for a spin?” Sia asked, the pride in her voice unmistakable to Wren’s happy ears.

  All of her was happy, she found, and she only grew more joyful when Sia grabbed her hand and took off, pulling her along at a fast but surprisingly comfortable speed. Wren found she had gotten used to the trees being so far below them, and it was only mildly uncomfortable to also see her home as so tiny and so far beneath her feet.

  Being in the air in such a wondrous way allowed her to let go of everything that had happened in that house, everything that had kept her tethered to the earth and tied to her pain. Maybe it would return when she landed again, but for now, she was full of hope, for the first time in far too many years.

  “How do you like flying?” Sia asked her, a wide, pleased smile now directed straight at Wren.

  “I love it! I feel so…so free!” She didn’t add that the best part was holding Sia’s hand as she flew, but that particular pleasure was only slightly stronger than the fact that she’d finally learned. Now she would be able to go to Shyon: to see her dad, finally, and to help her mom, Denise, be free, too. It might not feel as good to her mom as this—as flying, flying and holding Sia’s hand in hers—but she knew that for her poor mother, anything would be an improvement over being stuck here with Tim, and her drinking, and all the problems that came with living in this particular world.

  Flying might have felt like a new start to her, Wren thought as she and Sia touched down back in the familiar clearing, but the real new start would be happening very soon. The new start she’d always wanted, and one that included the dad she wanted to see again, and yes, the world that was her true home.

  “Thank you,” she told Sia when she let go of her hand. It didn’t seem like enough, just those two simple words, but it was all Wren could give her then. Later, sometime in the future, maybe she could give her more. Maybe she could give Sia what all these lessons had really been for. Maybe she could actually save the day, the way Sia seemed to think she could.

  It felt strange, to have someone believe in her the way Sia clearly did. Not just ordinary, everyday faith, the type her mom or Nicole or her Aunt Mary might have had in her. No, this was something else entirely. This was someone who believed Wren was capable of being a hero.

  Wren hated the fact that she had to go home now and leave Sia’s side, but she cheered herself up with the fact that she’d be spending a lot more time with her friend soon, now that she could fly. Fantasies of what might transpire between them in Wren and Sia’s home world floated through her head on the walk home, which made it pass by much quicker than it ever had before.

  Back at home, Wren slowly changed into her PJs, and then she turned on her bedside radio, still tuned to the oldies station. She’d listened to it for years, but now it had a new, special meaning to her. Now it was the station she’d been listening to when she learned how to fly. More importantly, though, it was the station she’d been listening to when she’d danced with a girl for the first time. As she was climbing into bed, she realized she’d forgotten to give Sia the book. Hopefully her finally learning to fly would be a good enough replacement. Besides, could they even take the book with them? After all, their arms would be quite full with keeping Denise in the air once they’d arrived.

  The station’s DJ spoke the last words Wren heard before she fell asleep. “This is our final song of the night, all you lovebirds. I hope you’ll be listening to it nestled in the arms of someone you adore.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Wren woke up much later than usual the next morning. It was half-past eleven when she finally managed to pull back the covers and go downstairs. Denise was already in front of the TV, dressed in short-sleeved flannel pajamas and holding a mug of what was likely coffee.

  It was incredibly rare for Denise to be up before Wren, but her mom didn’t seem to notice the lateness of her stepdaughter’s rising this morning, or even the fact that Wren had entered the room. All that would surely change once they were in Azyr, though, and Wren found she couldn’t wait for the plethora of imminent changes that would come once they left Earth behind.

  But first it was time to say her good-byes to Nicole. She had barely enough time to get dressed and make the picnic for their meal out in the woods. It would be her very last meal with Nicole, for however long this whole adventure to her home world would take. It would either be only a few days or perhaps, and Wren hoped this wasn’t the case, forever. She wished she could take Nicole along with her mom, and Mary, too, because they were among the few people who had made her time in this town—and o
n Earth—somewhat more livable.

  That wasn’t enough of an excuse to rip them out of their own lives, though, so instead of thinking more about how much she would miss a few very dear friends from her no-longer-home planet, Wren got to work on making lunch. She sliced some salami, three types of cheese, and half a baguette, and washed some grapes and strawberries, which she then cut up and put into a container with the grapes. She would have liked to have thrown together something fancier for her last meal with Nicole, but her friend would arrive in only a few minutes; Nicole was almost always right on time.

  Just as Wren was putting two mugs into the top of her backpack, she heard a knock on the front door. She rushed to it, more eager to see her friend than she had been in ages. It seemed Nicole could see how excited she was, as in the middle of a tight hug, she told Wren, “Whoa, Tiger, I’m glad to see you too, but maybe you could let me breathe while you hug me?”

  “Sorry, Nicole, sorry,” Wren said and let go and quickly backed away.

  “So, when’s lunch? I’m pretty hungry, actually, because I jogged here.”

  Wren noticed then that her friend was dressed for running, wearing a dark sports bra and thin, skin-tight shorts. Nicole had never been her type, a little too feminine for her taste, but her workout habits were clearly working for her, with every visible inch of her body completely toned. Wren had gone running with Nicole a few times over the years, but it had never come easily enough to her, especially when those runs had included having to keep up with her speedy friend. After getting the worst charley horse she’d ever had, during a heat wave the previous summer, she’d turned in her jogging shoes for good. Wren began to wonder then if flying might be an equally good workout.

  “Lunch will be really soon, I promise,” she told Nicole, turning slightly toward the kitchen. “I just have to go get my backpack. I didn’t have time to fix anything fancy, though.”