Queen of the Clueless (Interim Goddess of Love) (14 page)

It took a while for him to realize that
he
was making this happen somehow. It started with simple things, like a pen, or a sandwich, or someone's notes. Only Sol seemed strangely unaffected by this. When he needed something (like money) and she was the nearest person around, he had to get it the old fashioned way.

But
for other people it seemed to work, and for other things too, like money, laptops, phones. He tried telling someone to
forever do as he asked
, and it didn't work. Something about the touch, it wore off eventually. They'd forget that they had given so generously to him, or they'd kind of remember, but couldn't explain why they did it. He would have to come into contact again—a handshake, a fist bump, a light tap on the shoulder—to get something else.

Taking a
n actual car from someone else was a bit extreme, but there was no way his own clunker would have made it through the trip. And his neighbor had three cars anyway, and of course he handed over the keys to the SUV with a smile.

He wondered when this started, because it sure wasn
't around just two years ago, when he was first "exiled" to Manila. His parents had overreacted to some of his friends being involved in a shitstorm in the middle of senior year. Someone was high and got into a car, hit a pole, sent someone to a hospital. It wasn't him, he wasn't dumb enough to get high and drive that like, but they punished him for it anyway.

At nearly the same time, the family finances started to tank, and Neil suspected that they couldn
't afford college anywhere in the US, and he had to pay for it by being sent halfway around the world, to a place that was more
their
home than his. He tried to talk them, everyone, anyone, into not doing it, but they didn't listen.

Nobody ever really listened to him.

So that was what haunted his freshman year, until meeting Sol made things better. And then things actually started going his way. It made him all the more eager to keep her around, knowing that she was doing it willingly.

"
You should be dancing," someone beside him said, a girl's voice.

No, he shouldn
't. Dancing wasn't his thing, especially not the flamboyant way the people here were doing it. He couldn't believe that Sol would be related to anyone who considered this an enjoyable activity.

"
I'm fine, thanks," he said automatically.

"
I insist," she said, and took his hand, leading him to the dance floor.

The unexpected touch nearly made him pull back. Since discovering what
his touch could do, he was more careful with it, didn't let anybody just brush up against him.

And then he recognized who the girl was.

"Hannah."

d4 Bg4
dxe5 Bxf3
Qxf3 dxe5
Bc4 Nf6
Qb3 Qe7

"
Where is Sol?" I asked him, surprised that I was holding his hand, and yet the room hadn't whited out yet. Maybe it was something he turned on at some point?

He relaxed and actually settled into this.
One hand cradling mine, the other coming around my waist. I tried not to wince and focused on pretending to know what to do with my feet just then.
Step step back. Step step back.

"
Why are you here?" he asked.

Step step back.
"I was invited too," I said. "Sol's mom loves me."

"
That's interesting."

"
I know. It's like a reunion, you being here too. Is Sol around?"

"
No, she's… I don't know. They wanted her to dress into something else."

"
Like this, you mean?" I gestured toward my dress, knowing he would be looking.

"
Probably. Maybe it's not so bad after all."

"
Hey, it's Tita Annie's party. She gets to dress us up however she wants. Has Sol talked to you lately though?"

He blinked.
"About what?"

I shrugged.
"I don't know. She just seems really down lately. She talked to me about, you know..." I went on tiptoe so I could put this right in his ear, "getting you some help."

"
She did that," he said. I couldn't see his face, but his voice sounded strained.

"
Yeah. I mean, she's like that sometimes. Thinks she can fix things. People. It can be annoying, especially if you don't need fixing."

"
I don't need fixing. What did she tell you?"

"
Nothing. Just that she isn't happy with something. Maybe it's not related to the getting you help, you know? Because you're still together, right? I mean, she had the idea of taking you here, didn't she? And meeting her mother is so important."

"
What did she tell you?" I felt the tiniest bit of pressure on my hand, and with it the sensation of being on shaky stilts. I took a step but the floor didn't seem level, and had to hang on to him to stay upright.

The room, it began to turn white.

Neil

Nc3 c6
Bg5 b5
Nxb5 cxb5
Bxb5+ Nbd7
0-0-0 Rd8

Hannah didn
't matter. She wasn't supposed to matter. He didn't even need to bring out his best game to deal with her.

She was Sol
's "best friend," but come on. They'd only met in Ford River, and they all hadn't been there that long. Sol would no doubt be mentioning him, but no way would she tell Hannah everything. The point was, when it came down to it, he and Sol shared more with each other than with any "best friend." Hannah's opinion would be worth shit.

Besides, he already knew that
Hannah could be controlled.

"
She thinks you're taking money from her," she said, like an obedient girl. "I don't think you are, because you're not like that. I can't believe she doesn't trust you completely."

His mouth had for
med into a hard line. "Of course she trusts me completely," he told Hannah, and then he felt stupid for feeling that he had to prove something to her.

The pace she had set for their dancing had fallen into a predictable rhythm, and he could see that she was on auto-pilot now. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a familiar face
—it was that basketball player from school, glowering at him from across the room.

"
I thought you were with the other guy, the taller one," Neil said. "Or do they pass you around the team now?"

She looked in the direction of the guy, and when she turned back to face him, her eyes were clear, like she took no offense.
"He's really nice to me. I can't complain."

"
He looks like he wants to beat me up. You'll tell him not to beat me up, right?"

"
Of course. He's not my boyfriend. He has no reason to be jealous. But… but he's an
insecure
guy. He reminds me of Sol that way."

"
What are you talking about?"

"
Sol's not a very
secure
girlfriend, if you know what I mean."

Neil wasn
't sure why Hannah was saying all of this, but he did just compel her to tell him what Sol said. This must have been part of it. "What do you mean?"

She danced a little closer to him, to make sure he could hear her. The music changed,
middle aged women switched partners, trading one young male dancer for another. Hannah and Neil stood out as actual young people on the dance floor, swaying way off to the music, but he didn't care—he actually wanted to hear this. As long as he kept her close, he knew he'd hear it.

Hannah said,
"You know that her ex cheated on her, right? She was really looking forward to her next visit home, but he was actually seeing someone else. Maybe even before she moved to Ford River."

"
He's a bastard."

"
Very true. Of course. But… but she has trouble trusting people now. I think it's because of him. I mean, it's not like you're doing anything wrong, she's just damaged now, you know?"

That was not how he saw his girlfriend. She was organized, put together, maybe hurting, but definitely not damaged. He almost wanted to argue with Hannah.

But what did he know? He couldn't exactly get Sol to admit it.

"
What do you mean, damaged?" he asked.

Rxd7 Rxd7
Rd1 Qe6
Bxd7+ Nxd7
Qb8+ Nxb8

I wanted to throw up, I did.

I was glad that he couldn't notice. Maybe the blinking lights were good for something after all. I could feel his influence taking over me, just like it did before. The sensation of not breathing, of being paralyzed but moving, it was still there. I could speak, but only because he was letting me, because I was saying something he wanted to hear.

Why put myself in this position again?

Because I thought I could do it better this time.

Was that stupid? Maybe. But that
's what happens when an amateur is given this kind of responsibility.

The fact that I was still in control of my own mind was a comfort. Except it was so hard to say what I wanted to say. Answering a simple question was an invisible tug of war that he didn
't even know he was winning. When I let myself go and just said what he wanted, my body relaxed. If I focused a little, tugged a little, my own thoughts actually came out.

But it made me feel like throwing up.

The room was a blur of white to me now, and I couldn't hear the music or care what people were seeing me do. I just couldn't mess this up.

"
Do you think she trusts you completely? She doesn't. She doesn't trust anybody," I said.

"
Is she lying to me?" That was an unexpected but welcome response. I just wish I knew what he would be concerned about.

I took a wild guess.

"She doesn't talk to her mom about you," I said.

"
That's not true."