Damselfly (25 page)

“We have decided to give you a choice, Lina.” Dr. Christiansen speaks her well-rehearsed lines with cold precision. “Jack has agreed to undergo our new, groundbreaking procedure to become your size.”

No, this can’t be happening. So that’s what they’ve been doing—testing out their shrink ray gun on people. They’ll kill him. Maybe they even intend for him to die.

“If you choose him, we will fly him here to Denmark with all expenses paid, and it will take about a month for the process to be complete. His family will receive a brand-new home, and they will never have to worry about a thing for the rest of their lives.”

No.

“A celebrity wedding planner will assist you in putting together the wedding of your dreams, and you will spend a week honeymooning in each of the following places: Egypt, Italy, and Hawaii. Now, let’s get Jack on the line. Jack, can you see Lina? She’s right here.”

His whole face lights up. Oh, how I have missed this man.

“Hey there, Thumbelina!”

Oh God, this can’t be happening. I need to force some measure of happiness onto my face before he thinks I’m not happy to see him.

“Hi, Jack.” I manage a weak smile. “I can’t believe it’s you.”
I love you. I’ve missed you. How are you doing?
I want to say all of these things, but it’s not the time. Not yet.

“I know,” he says. “Um, I really thought I would never get to talk to you again.”

It feels like someone is stepping on my chest. “Yeah, I…I didn’t think we would either.”

“Did they tell you they contacted me?”

I lick my lips. “No, they didn’t.”

Uncertainty flashes across his face. “Oh, I thought maybe this was your idea. Did they already tell you what they can do for us?”

“Yeah…”

“I can’t believe this is possible. Man, I was so worried about you after the last time we talked and you vanished, but when I saw the news the next day, it just all came together.” He laughs. “I can’t believe you actually used ‘Thumbelina’ as part of your screen name. I should have guessed. You had so many weird pieces of furniture in your living room.”

This is all too surreal. Is this really happening? Isn’t he mad?

“I’m sorry, Jack. I should have told you.”

He sobers a little, but the happy look remains. “Probably, but it’s okay. I was upset about it for a couple of days, but I get it. I know why you did it. Anyway, it’s all in the past, and I’m really excited that I can be with you now. They’re going to take care of my family and everything, so there’s nothing to worry about.”

“No.” I bite down on my lip until I taste blood.

“What?” He sits back, glances side to side.

“The procedure can kill you, Jack. I can’t let you do it. They’ve killed people already—I don’t even know how many!”

But the connection shorts out as I speak and Jack freezes on the screen. When he starts moving again, he looks confused.

I know what they’re doing. They’ll never let me tell him about the risks. The only way I can keep him from doing this is to break his heart. Permanently.

Dr. Christiansen watches me, waits for me to acknowledge that I understand what she is forcing me to do. Either choose Jack and let him do this or choose one of the Toms. I nod, hating her with every fiber of my being.

“I’ve already made my choice, Jack,” I say. “I’m so sorry. I never wanted to have to do this.”

Embarrassment flickers across his face. “What…what are you trying to tell me, Lina?”

“I told you I loved you, but I don’t. I didn’t know what I was saying, but I’ve fallen in love for real this time. I’m sorry.”

Something in me dies as I watch humiliation transform into anger in his eyes. He shakes his head and blurts out a humorless laugh.

“So this is how it ends,” he says. “You know, the way they described you to me, I thought they only made you tiny physically, but your heart is even smaller. Like a…” He stops to regain his composure before he spits out the words that slay me. “Like a germ.”

His words knock the wind out of me. I clutch my belly and gasp for air as the monitor flicks off. Jack vanishes along with any shred of hope I still had.

***

After the studio lights have been turned off and I’m left in the dull sheen of the fluorescent bulbs, after I’ve caught my breath and regained my composure, I have a few fleeting moments to make a decision. Dr. Christiansen can no longer hurt Jack. He will never wish to be involved with her organization ever again.

And I have one card left to play.

“All right,” I say. “I’ll give you one more episode, and that’s it. I’ve decided who I want to pick and I won’t go through any more dates, so you can run your…I don’t know what you would call it…final ceremony? I’ll make my decision on camera. But that’s it. I’m not dragging this out so you can make more money for your sick experiments. We both know your ‘procedure’ doesn’t work.”

She presses her lips together. She’s thinking it over.

“You will cooperate for one final episode,” she says. It’s a statement, not a question.

“Yes.”

She nods. “In one week, then.”

It’s done.

Chapter 32

This is my True Tale now:

I live a cotton candy life on the ocean’s shore. On my wedding day, I carried a bouquet of lollipops hand-selected by the man who loves me. I wore a short, white dress, and we danced on flower petals while our guests blew dandelion fluff into the air.

We are playing by the sea today. I stretch my toes down into heated sand while a smaller person with shimmering wings plays at my feet. His hair is blond, his eyes green like his father’s. Row returns to us carrying ice cream cones. The little one squeals and leaps into the air, sending sand and laughter flying in every direction.

Row smiles his sparkling smile. He is kindness through and through.

I am happy that he is happy. I am proud that I have become a woman who loves well. It is what I like best about myself.

I fold my story inside of myself as I carefully chase a tear away from my eyeliner.

I’m inside of a freaking plastic tulip. Seriously, it’s 2081 and they couldn’t think of something better? I tuck my wings to the side and take a seat on the stool to wait.

My tulip is one of many inside the “Garden of Love”—a room full of artificial flowers, all tightly closed into buds. When Dr. Christiansen brought me here an hour ago, I was informed all of the Toms were already in their own tulips. I was sealed inside of mine for the ceremony.

The deal is they will announce the names of the Toms one by one and open their tulips. I have to wait until they call the Tom I want to pick, then I press the camouflaged button under the stool that triggers my tulip’s opening mechanism. I will “bloom” for everyone to see, and it will be oh-so-romantic.

Right.

Someone sneezes nearby. “Bless you,” I whisper.

I take a deep breath and knot my fingers together. My stomach has become home to a three-ring circus and the tumblers are performing.
Please don’t let Jack be watching this,
I pray.
Please.
Not that it really matters.

I’ve made my decision. I think I can live with it, but I’m not sure. At least one person will be happy as a result. Maybe I can be happy by proxy.

I smooth out my long, pink silk gown. It’s one of the least offensive of all of the outfits they’ve forced me to wear. It’s a halter-top, and the neck is lined with purple sapphires. It actually looks sort of pretty next to my blue wings. I wouldn’t have thought of the color combination myself, but it’s not bad.

I lift my chin even though no one is here to see. I’m ready.

“And…we’re live!” a production assistant calls. All rustling within the tulips stops. The show’s theme song plays over the speakers.

Hurry it up please. Let’s get this over with.
I resist the urge to twist my skirt into a wrinkled mass. I settle for bouncing my knee instead.

“Ready in the garden!” the assistant shouts.

My heart beats so hard I can feel it moving the bobby pins in my hair.

The host’s voice booms over the speakers, “Tom1!”

Crane. I can’t see him, but I can picture his tulip opening into the silent loneliness. I bite my lip and pick at my fingernail.

Get ready.

“Tom2!”

It’s Row. I fumble around under the stool for the button and press it. This is it. There’s no going back now. I stand as fast as I can without tearing my dress, and the tulip begins to open. The stool is pulled through the trap door below.

The petals slowly press outward, and I catch my first glimpse of Row. His tulip is already fully bloomed, and his red-blond hair is afire in the studio lighting. My breath catches in my chest. His tux fits his muscular frame perfectly. His face breaks into a dazzling smile, and a glimmer of happiness ignites in my heart.

I manage a small step forward. Maybe if I just keep my eyes on him, I’ll be okay and I can get through this. But something catches his eye off to the side, and a shocked expression replaces his trademark happy face. He glances at me and mouths three unmistakable words: “I’m so sorry.”

I don’t understand, so I follow his gaze, and as I turn my head, a blur of long brown hair and blue dress runs past me toward him. The hair is attached to a
girl
. A girl who is a head shorter than Row. A girl with no wings. She skips across a plastic pathway of leaves and runs straight into his arms. His shock transforms into joy, and he lets out a cry of amazement.

Daphne.

I stare at them. Row pulls her close, then holds her out to look at her before crushing her against himself again with unrestrained joy. I have never seen him like this before—this open and happy. His previous cheerfulness was but a shadow of this ecstasy. Did I ever even know him?

Nothing within me can make sense of what has happened. Each camera slowly turns toward the weeping couple until not a single one watches me anymore.

Stunned, I barely hear the production assistant bend down and ask me to exit stage right. Numb, I follow her direction and fly toward the door. I turn around before I walk out of the room, but all eyes are on Row and Daphne. I am invisible.

This show is no longer about me. It’s someone else’s fairytale.

Chapter 33

I’m all alone. I never imagined it would end this way.

The door closes behind me, clicking shut with a finality I’m not quite ready for. I struggle to make sense of it all. Row’s stories about the gardener’s daughter come rushing back from my memory.

I had such a crush on her. I would have done anything for her.

Anything. Laughter rips out of me, beyond my control. I’m bending over at the waist, clutching my ribs, screaming in laughter. Tears run down my face. How could he do that to me? But of course he would. He loves her. He would do anything for her, including leading me on. I never would have guessed Dr. Christiansen gave him the same choice she offered me. Except Row probably didn’t know about the failed animal testing. But the real question is:
When
did Dr. Christiansen offer to shrink his girlfriend?

I remember my conversation with Blue and him telling me I should get to know Row because he deserved to be happy. Blue said he would get his own chance later.

He knew. Even then, before any of the dates, he knew.

I was a pawn all along.

Sobs overtake me, and I sink to my knees. How could I have been so dumb? And why on earth am I crying? Wasn’t this what I wanted—for Row to be happy? Well, now he’s happy. Stop crying, stupid girl. You’re a fool. Are you sorry you don’t get to be the martyr now? Now things will go back to normal, and no one needs your epic sacrifice.

Don’t you feel stupid? Stop crying. Shut up.

The tears only fall faster, a rain of loneliness, guilt, anger, and shame. I hold my hand over my mouth to try to hold it all in.

The sound of laughter draws my head up. Two production assistants joke and talk over cups of coffee on the far side of the room. The assistant who guided me into this room has already returned to the “Garden of Love.” A drab gray sofa squats in the middle, facing a TV projection featuring a live feed of the show.

I wipe off my cheeks and fly to the arm of the sofa where I sit down to watch. I haven’t seen any of the show since it started; Dr. Christiansen forbade me to watch it.

“Well, the feedback from our viewers is already pouring in on the results of the show,” says the host. I recognize his voice. His hair is as immovable as his tone. “We have a few tweets to share with you now.

“First one is from Alienna8050 who says, ‘So glad this turned out well and Row didn’t end up with the cold witch.’”

My blood drains from my face. She can’t possibly be referring to me…can she?

“And here we have another from pinkducttape saying, ‘serves her right after how she turned down that other guy.’

“Some very strong opinions here, folks. We now have a recap for you from last week where Lina breaks Jack’s heart in front of the world. Here it is.”

And there I am on the screen, telling Jack I’ve chosen someone else, but wait! Now I’m spewing some truly venomous words at him. Words that were never meant for him. Words I had directed solely at Dr. Christiansen.

Wow, I think this is the first time you’ve ever asked me what I think, how I feel. Well, here it is. I think you’re a control freak and you disgust me. Do you even have a soul in there? You’ve destroyed my life and who knows how many other people you’ve ruined as well? I don’t want to have anything to do with you anymore. Ever.

I stare at the screen, openmouthed. I see Jack’s hurt reaction all over again, and his cutting goodbye stings almost as much as it did a week ago.

I gave Dr. Christiansen the drama she wanted all along. She wasn’t interested in seeing me get married because Row was already willing to fully cooperate. He’d already agreed to choose Daphne if he got the chance.

I drop my head into my hands.

The show cuts to the happy couple. Flower petals cascade around them as they cling to one another, wreathed in smiles. A flicker of pain crosses Daphne’s face, quick as a lightning strike and gone equally fast. I frown and lean forward. Her body seizes, and she clutches Row’s shoulder in agony. His joy evaporates as he asks her if she’s all right. The sound cuts out, and the show’s theme song blares through.