Social Themes
"It was a nightmare," Robin said. "A—a vision, Your Highness. There was a man drowning in clouds...when I touched him, I saw things, things he'd seen, things he knew."
"What things?" I asked.
Robin took a deep breath. "They've taken the baroness."
"Who? Where?"
"Enemies," she said simply. "He didn't know where. There was a dead woman..."
My mouth was open. I know that because when I did the face-plant into the bottom of the wave, I was gargling salt water, thinking that maybe I was about to die. The wave drove me deep into the water. I flapped my arms around, thinking that going back up to the surface was a good idea.
But it wasn't. At least not then.
I surfaced just in time to open my eyes and see my airborne surfboard eclipsing the morning sun. And aimed straight for my head. Wham.
Maybe Lisa had appeared out of nowhere for a reason. I was kind of like a frog in a fairy tale who needed a kiss from a princess so he could turn into a prince. Only, instead of a frog, I was a might-be-gay kid who needed straightening out, and instead of a princess, she was a cigarette-smoking tattooed city girl with a bag full of mix tapes. I figured that was close enough.
My life used to be a glass pitcher of white, pure, clean, delicious milk just bubbling over with goddamn wholesomeness. My entire life. My whole family was shiny and perfect, snipped right out of the stereotype catalogue: Mom, Dad, me, Chelsea, and our loyal dog, Glob...
I'm seventeen now, and that's all gone. Seventeen doesn't sound old. But it is. Trust me.
