Stained Glass Souls (Wattys 2014, Collector's Dream Award Winner)

Ariel: Fade to Black

(Ariel: unedited)

She had pulled away first.

Scooted straight up from her sea and bolted from the room, lips stinging with unleashed secrets. She had felt much too big for her body, suddenly – bones pressing against her skin, begging to be released, needling through her faded excuses. Her feet carried her to the bathroom, where she wound up sitting on the lid of the toilet, knees pressed to her chest, wondering where, exactly, everything had fallen apart.

When had he decided to care for her? When he had slipped, invisible as daylight, through her defenses? What had driven him to kiss her – and why her, Ariel Fontansia, who wore entirely too much of her heart upon her sleeves?

That had been four hours ago.

Four agonizing hours, two of which she had spent contemplating her purposelessness behind dirty plastic walls. She had slipped out around 12 o’clock, splashed some water upon her burnt cheeks and ventured back up to Katrina’s room.

Price was missing. So was Mcclain.

Her friend had been sleeping, arms dangling by her sides. Ariel, upon discovering her, had pulled the sheets up to her chest and sat down beside the bed. She spent the rest of the afternoon watching twilight steal across the sky. There was nothing else to do: the handprints, and the rest of the blood, were gone; the clothing had been folded; shards of the vase had been whisked away. Despite her best attempts to convince herself otherwise, she was too afraid of finding Price to leave the room.

What if they bumped into each other in the hall, and he decided to kiss her again? Would she run? Would she have enough time to collect her armor, raise her shields, and become impenetrable yet again?

She was so fearful of crumbling that she glued herself to the chair, arms wrapped around her body and legs tucked beneath her, attempting to hold herself together. It was too soon to fall apart. Too late, too early, too terrible a thing.

“Babe.” Katrina shifted in bed and groaned. “Ariel! Are you sleeping?”

She blinked. The world refocused. Katrina was sitting up in bed, an annoyed look on her face. “Finally,” she said. She ran one hand through her hair. “Daydreaming?”

Ariel ducked her head. Her cheeks were still burning, hours and hours later. If Katrina saw, she would have a fit. She was the queen of details – down to the slightest casual movement, the tiniest quiver of a smile. “Waiting for you to wake up.”

“Since when is my sleep sacred to you?” Katrina grinned like the Cheshire cat. “Something happened! I knew it! The spoon excuse always works.”

“You set me up?”

“Duh.” Katrina rolled her eyes. “Well, I mean, not really. Because you could’ve opted not to get the spoon.”

“Kat!” Ariel said, indignant. “What if I wasn’t interested?”

Her friend narrowed her eyes, honing in. “What if I thought you needed someone to be interested?”

“Kat…”

“Babe…” Katrina was almost whining, a petulant look on her face. “Stop being cross. You’re so stoic all the time. I miss you, you know. Those coffee dances and stuff, back when you came to visit me.”

“I didn’t think you –”

“You knew I wanted to see you. Or I would, once I got over it.”

Ariel pursed her lips. “I’m not arguing about this. Again.”

“Okay, mom.” Katrina said. She rolled her eyes, pushing herself up further in bed. Up close, she appeared nearly emaciated – bones barely concealed by her thin, milky skin. When she moved, the bones of her chest expanded, folding open and closed like the wings of a paper fan.