Rebecca tried not to let the guilt get to her too much — tried not to. No matter how much she tried to convince herself that Mikael had deserved her anger, the guilt still remained. If anything, it got worse. She knew in the back of her mind — some place that didn’t want to be acknowledged — that he’d been one of them. Just another tormentor, torturing her for their own amusement. He’d hurt her indirectly. So he deserved it.

At least that’s what she told herself. Since a week ago — when it had happened — that’s what she’d been telling herself.

She knew, full well, that he hadn’t deserved it. What had he really done to her? Nothing. Nothing at all. She was drawing on straws to find something he’d done. All she could think of were positive things. He’d helped her after she’d been knocked out by a dodge ball. He’d spoken to her. On his first day of school. He hadn’t known at the time that she was the outcast but he’d probably figured it out. She was the only who sat by herself at school. Everyone else had friends. It amazed her that he’d spoken to her first. Mikael had seen the popular group, lying across the tables. There was no way you could miss them. He’d seen them and he’d still asked her for direction, completely ignoring the table of beautiful people.

She couldn’t find a fault in him. Sure, he was the reason Skye had thrown a slushy over her head, but he hadn’t meant it. It wasn’t his fault Skye was vindictive and jealous.

Going away guilt, she thought, hoping it’d work. Unsurprisingly, it didn’t work. The heavy feeling in the pit of her stomach didn’t go away. She didn’t know what would make it better. She was horrible for no reason. She’d accused him of sending texts he hadn’t even sent. Then she’d sworn at him like it would fix everything. She wished she were a guy. Swearing seemed to make everything easier on them — it was their solution. Why couldn’t it be the same with her?

With a sigh, she realised what she had to do. She had to apologise to him.

The apology wasn’t the problem. No, Rebecca was fine with that. She’s apologised about a lot of things in her life — often taking the blame for things she hadn’t even done.

Mikael. He was the problem.

No doubt he hated her. He wouldn’t even let her talk to him. If he did, he’d probably make someone film it and post it all over Facebook. Rebecca could imagine it — ‘School freak begging for forgiveness.’ That’s what she didn’t want. He’d just humiliate her over it. If he had even liked her before — no, not liked, tolerated — there was no way he liked her now.

High school. So many problems. Why me? Rebecca thought. No one else had the problems she had. She just couldn’t catch a break—

“Rebecca!”

Broken from her reverie, she jumped, almost toppling of the side of her bed. Well, that wasn’t exactly correct. She did fall down the side of her bed — she just didn’t want to admit it. Landing in a heap, she barely felt the pain. That only lasted for a second though. As her head hit the floor, she groaned, rolling over. Her floor was carpeted so it broke her fall; that was one good thing.

“Rebecca! What was that bang?” her mother yelled

Rebecca grabbed her head, praying her headache wouldn’t be that bad. She’d get one that was for sure. “I’m fine mum! I just fell off my bed!”

“What?” her mother yelled. Rebecca heard her footsteps rushing to her room. “Are you okay? Don’t move!”

Rebecca rolled her eyes, lying back on the floor. Stupid floor. Stupid bed.

“Rebecca!”

The concern in her mother’s voice made her reply. “I’m still here. Still on the floor. Not moving.”

“Thank god,” her mother breathed. “Stay there! I’m coming!”

“I’m not dying! I just fell off my bed!”

“Rebecca,” her mother warned.

Sighing, she yelled back, “Okay! I concede. Not moving!”

The door twisted open, her mother’s worried face peeking through the crack. At the sight of her, she rushed forward, crowding Rebecca.

Rebecca tried to push away her mother’s hands as they poked and prodded, checking to see if she was okay. “Stop. I’m fine. Can I get up now?”

Her mother just glared.

Sighing, Rebecca stared at the roof. I really need more exciting walls, she realised. She spent so much time staring at the ceiling. She needed a colour other than white.

After a few minutes, her mother stood, realising that Rebecca didn’t have anything wrong with her except a killer headache in a few hours. “Okay, you’re fine. You scared me.” Her mother frowned. “How’d you fall off the bed anyway?”

“You scared me and I went off the edge.”

“I scared you — and you went off the edge of your bed, onto the floor? How’d you manage that?”

Rebecca shrugged. “I’m a klutz. I run into walls all the time.”

Her mother laughed. “Like when you knock yourself out at school?”

Rebecca tried to laugh, attempting to sound like she found it funny. She didn’t find it funny in the slightest. She hadn’t knocked herself out, she’d been minding her own business and someone had decided to hurt her. Something else Mikael had had no part in—another reason for the guilt to blossom. “Yes. Like that.”

Her mother smiled. “I love you, my little klutz. Now, for the real reason I came in here. Jack is coming by for dinner.”

“What time will he be here?”

“6:30 tonight.”

Rebecca thought that was a little early for dinner but she kept the thought to herself. “Okay. What time is it now?”

“6:00.”

She had a whole twelve hours to get ready. She could go back to her book and hopefully finish it by the end of the day. “Okay. Thanks for the warning.”

Her mother frowned. “Are you okay? You didn’t knock your head did you?”

On the floor, yes. “I hit my head but I’m fine . . .”

“You don’t know what the time is?”

Rebecca stared up at her mother, wondering if the question was rhetorical. “You told me. I already know

She stared at the raised eyebrow. “You’re awfully relaxed for someone who has half an hour to get ready.”

“Half an hour? What? 

“You have half an hour.”

Rebecca frowned. “You said it was six . . .”

“In the evening. Not morning.”

It took a few seconds for it to sink in. Then Rebecca looked at herself, wondering if she was imagining she was wearing her pyjamas. “You’re wrong. It can’t be.”

“I’m not. You’ve been reading the whole day.”

She was at a loss. Surely she’d realise that she’d been awake for so long. “Oh.”

“Yeah, ‘oh.’ Now get ready.”

Then her mother left her room.

Rebecca stared at the ceiling wondering where her day had gone.

*             *             *

By the time she walked into the dining room, dressed in jeans and a plain white shirt, everyone was seated. Jack was sitting with her parents at the table, talking to them. The conversation sounded boring but they were pretty animated so Rebecca wasn’t sure what it was about. Probably a case. Or someone they worked with.

The conversation stopped when she entered the room. Self-consciously, she smoothed her palm on her jeans. “Uh . . . hi.”

Her mother stood. “Took you long enough. You’re worse than me.”

Rebecca heard laughter from the table and recognised it as her dads. “No one’s worse than you, honey.”

The smile her mother sent her fathers’ way was an indulgent one. “True. I don’t see you complaining though.”

Her dad shook his head. “I aim to please. What can I say?”

She was ushered to the table with a hand on her back. “Sit. I’ll get you some food.”

Rebecca stared up at her mother, casual in jeans and a blouse. Jackson Nicholas had been to their house a few times for dinner and her parents had given up on formality. “That’s okay. I’ll get it. You eat.”

Her mother glared. “It’s no trouble. Now sit.”

“But—”

“She won’t let up until you sit. You know that,” her dad said.

The glare was sent in his direction. “You’re lucky I love you.”

Her dad raised an eyebrow. “I am, aren’t I?”

Rebecca watched her mother walk to the kitchen, muttering under her breath.

“Tell me, Becca, why did your mother come down, complaining that you were still not dressed?”

Rebecca could feel two pairs of eyes on her. “I lost track of time,” she admitted, the blush something she couldn’t stop.

Her dad looked incredulous. “How do you manage to lose a whole day?”

Rebecca shrugged. His answer was as good as hers. “I don’t know. It just happened.”

“Let me guess — a book was involved?”

It was eerie how well her parents knew her. “Maybe?”

Her dad laughed. “That’s a yes, then. It must have been good to lose track of a whole day.”

“What book was it?”

Rebecca stared at Jack, wondering if she’d heard him right.

“Oh, sorry. I was just wondering.”

“Why?” The word came out before Rebecca could take it back.

“Rebecca,” her dad said, shocked.

“Sorry.”

Jack smiled at her. “It’s okay. I was just curious. Teenagers these days are all into romance novels.”

Rebecca shook her head. “No way. Not me. I hate them.” She despised them because they were unrealistic and everything she’d never have.

“Really? What do you like?”

Rebecca shrugged. “I don’t have a favourite genre. I like fantasy and most other types. As long as it’s not a sappy romance, I’m not picky. Unless it’s badly written.”

Why am I telling a stranger this? she wondered.

“Is that what you were reading before?”

Rebecca nodded. “Fantasy? Yeah. It was about this girl who met this guy. It turns out that he’s part Faerie—” Blushing she broke off. “I’m sorry. This is boring and I’m rambling.”

“You’re not boring me at all.”

Rebecca didn’t look up from the table. “Seriously?”

“On my life.” The words were spoken like an oath — a promise that lasted until death. Something that wouldn’t ever be broken. Rebecca couldn’t deny she found it odd — and strangely calming — to hear the words.

“Okay. Well anyway, she finds out he’s part Faerie and then it all goes crazy. People want to kill him and then, because she knows him, they want to kill her. But they’re in love so everything is fine. I’m only up to where there’s this guy she thinks is nice, but he’s evil. Well, they haven’t really said he’s evil, but I know it.”

He nodded, looking like it was the most interesting thing in the world, hearing her ramble about a book. “So, you like it?”

Rebecca shrugged. “It’s not amazing, but it’s not bad. I like the idea of it though.”

His stare was unnerving; his focus was wholly on her like she was a god. “You like faeries?"

“Yes. I don’t like Tinkerbell. I like real faeries.”

“What’s a real faerie?” he asked, even though he sounded like he knew the answer. Or maybe it was just the way he carried himself — he seemed so sure of himself and he looked like he knew everything.

“Honestly? I don’t know. I’m not ruling out that they exist, but I don’t necessarily believe it. I’m open minded though. If they did exist though I’d imagine that they look just like us. They’d be different but not noticeably.”

He laughed. “You’re so different to my daughter. She’d have exited this conversation at the beginning. Why do you think that?”

“Vampires aren’t made out to look like aliens. Neither are werewolves. So why should faeries?”

“I can’t fault that logic. How do they fly then?”

Even though she wondered why he wanted to know, she still answered. For all she knew, he could be a fantasy nerd. Just because he was a lawyer didn’t mean he couldn’t be a nerd. “Well, they wouldn’t be tiny. Somehow they’d be hidden too. But they’re probably not real so this is all just speculation.”

Jack raised an eyebrow. “Are you so sure about that?”

Rebecca shrugged. “That’s the thing. I don’t know.”

“You’d be surprised.”

Rebecca stared at him, trying to figure him out. He was so sure. He was unnerving.

He smiled at her. “I was joking.”

Rebecca tried to laugh, but it sounded just as forced as she tried to make it be. “Okay.” 

Her mother chose that time to walk in, carrying Rebecca’s plate. Rebecca smiled in thanks, as she started to eat.

The conversation started between the adults at the table and Rebecca stayed silent. Her attention went to Jack throughout dinner. He didn’t say anything about her stare, so either he didn’t mind it or he just didn’t realise. 

In her silence, she thought on how she’d apologise to Mikael. She didn’t come up with a way other than face-to-face. She’d just have to deal with the humiliation if it came.