"Eden, I'd kiss you long, and I'd kiss you often."
Oh. Oh. I blinked and sat up. "That's supposed to make me feel better?"
Calder released a laugh on a breath, sitting up, too. "No. But I want it to be clear what we're dealing with here. We're attracted to each other. I admire you, and I like to be with you. I want to be your friend. But, Eden, nothing can ever happen between us. It's just the way it is."
I felt stung, angry, and bitter, the joy I'd been feeling just a few minutes earlier, fading. "My destiny," I bit out.
Calder paused, furrowing his brow and running one finger absent-mindedly over his bottom lip. "I don't know about that. All I know is life as we know it would be over for us if we gave in."
"Right. Thank you for being honest with me. I admire you, too, Calder. You're very . . . obedient." I felt angry. Angry with Calder? Angry with the gods for bringing me here and putting me within arm's length of this incredible boy? Why?
Calder furrowed his brow and then cleared his throat as he looked away. I suddenly felt guilty. I had meant it as an insult and he had taken my statement in the vein it had been said. In truth, I was just hurt and filled with bitterness at the unfairness of my situation. And here Calder was, a boy, practically a man, who was trying his very best to be honorable, to be my friend, my only friend.
"I'm sorry," I said. "That was unfair."
"It's okay. I am obedient. I like to think I'm obedient to the gods, even if Hector is prone to the same mistakes or misinterpretations any human being could be. I like to think I'm obedient to this community, to the needs and happiness of others here. What would happen, not just to me, but to this community, if it was known I was cavorting with Hector's soon-to-be bride?"
"Cavorting? You make it sound so tawdry." Hector often used that word. He said sinful actions were like cavorting with the devil.
"It would be wrong. Just meeting like this . . . it's as far as it can go."
I was silent for a good minute, mulling it over in my mind. Like the day before when I'd kissed him, all I wanted to do was leave, run. He knows how I feel about him. Is he just being nice here to avoid hurting my feelings? "Yes, I suppose you're right," I said, feeling defeated.
Calder turned toward me. "My point in being honest with you about my attraction to you is I think it's better if it's out on the table, so to speak. We need to tread carefully, here. I want to be your friend. But not to the detriment of our entire community and not to the detriment of our own hearts . . . and our own dreams."
Truly, my heart was already his for the breaking, and breaking it was, but I nodded my head anyway. I knew he had dreams for his own life. And he was risking those just by meeting me like he was, most definitely by teaching me things. If anything, it made my admiration for him stronger. How could I ask him for more?
We were both silent for another moment. Calder watched me in the dark. "The portrait was beautiful," I finally said. "Nothing squash-like about me at all." I had unrolled the paper the night before and my breath had caught in my throat at the absolute beauty of the picture. Did I really look like that? Hector had told me since I was a child I was beautiful and angelic. But something about the way Calder had drawn me made me look powerful and strong, the look on my face sure, confident, even serene as I gazed upward.
Calder laughed. "If only you were just a little more squash-like, this whole situation would be easier for me to bear."
I held back a grimace. If this was going to have any chance of working, he couldn't flirt with me.
He seemed to read my mind as his expression became serious, cleared his throat, and lay back down. "So, speaking of squash, our lesson today is going to be on the stars."
I raised an eyebrow. "What does squash have to do with the stars?"
"Oh, you've never heard of the constellation, Squasharius?"
I laughed and it felt good. "I swear, Calder Raynes, if you're teaching me all kinds of things I'm going to have to un-learn later, I won't be happy."
Calder laughed. "Okay, so maybe there's no Squasharius." He was quiet for a minute. "Did you know that when you're looking at stars, you're actually looking back in time?"
"How's that?" I whispered.
"Because the light from a star takes millions of years to reach the earth. So, for instance," he pointed upward again to one tiny, blinking star, "that's actually what that one looked like thousands of years ago."
Something about that seemed magical to me and I decided not to try to wrap my mind around the science of it. "It's like I can imagine the gods up there, somewhere behind all those stars, looking down on us right now." I paused. "Can I tell you a secret though?" I brought my voice down to a whisper.
"Anything."
"I only pray to one of them." I blushed, even though he couldn't see my face. Saying that out loud, despite the fact I read hours and hours of the Holy Book on all twelve deities every single day, felt blasphemous.
Calder turned toward me. "Which one?" he asked, surprise in his voice.
"The God of Mercy."
"Why him?" The tone of his voice was gentle.
I considered his question for a minute. "Because . . . I just figure there's not much that grace and mercy can't fix. And I guess I figure that he . . . he cares the most about what happens to us. Or maybe he's able to love us despite how much we mess up, how imperfect we are, and how much we want what we shouldn't want," I finished quietly.