WHEN VANESSA CREPT back in her bedroom, she found a red velvet pillow leaning against her other pillows on her bed. She picked it up. GODDESS was embroidered in deeper reds and golds on the front.
“Stanton,” she whispered and stared at the pillow. She was going to toss it, but something made her hold it tight.
“Goddess,” she read again, and smiled.
She took a long shower, letting the hot water wash the glitter and paint from her body. She crawled into bed and didn’t bother to close the window. She sensed that she was safe, for now. She curled against the red velvet pillow and fell asleep thinking about Michael.
She woke later that day, a little stunned by all that had happened, and dressed. Catty had planned to spend the day in bed sleeping, but Vanessa had two things to do that couldn’t wait.
At dusk, she walked down Fairfax Avenue carrying the lawn flamingo she had purchased at Armstrong’s. She turned down Melrose Avenue and walked for several blocks, past boutiques named Street Slut and Wizard, then turned again. She found the house with the missing flamingo and set the new one in the ground.
She still had something important to do. It was risky, but she felt she owed it to herself. She walked over to Michael’s house and knocked on the door.
“Vanessa,” Michael said in surprise when he opened the door.
She pretended not to see his look of irritation. “I just wanted you to know that none of the things I did were ever about you.”
He looked confused.
“I had something going on in my life. Something that made me act odd at times, but it’s nothing to do with you. I really like you. And I wanted to kiss you and I wanted to hold your hand, but when you touch me, I get nervous and I feel all crazy inside and I act weird.” She stopped. Was he smiling?
She started again. “And I’m probably never going to stop acting the way I do, because that’s just who I am.”
She looked back at him. Why didn’t he say anything?
“Well, there, I said it. That’s the truth.”
He still didn’t say anything.
“So I wanted to let you know that.”
She bit her lip, shrugged, then turned and walked away feeling totally humiliated.
“Vanessa,” Michael called.
Her heart flipped. She turned back. He was definitely smiling.
“You want to go to Planet Bang with me Tuesday night?”
“Yes.” Did she answer too quickly? Her molecules buzzed in a dreamy way, and she smiled back at him. “Yeah, I’d like that.”
“I’ll pick you up early, and we’ll eat first.”
She nodded. “That sounds great.”
“You want to come in? I was just playing the piano.”
She smiled mischievously and walked toward him. “No,” she whispered and looked deep into his eyes.
“No?” he teased.
And then he reached out, and his arms were around her. She breathed in the spice soap smell of him. He bent his head down, and his lips pressed against hers. Waves of desire rose inside her. Her molecules swirled in pleasure, but they stayed together tight and strong. She let him kiss her again before she stopped him. Then she opened her eyes and looked at him.
“So I’ll see you at school tomorrow,” she said, and turned to leave.
“Tomorrow.” He grinned.
“Bye.” She blew him a kiss and hurried down the walk.
And then she was running back to Melrose.
She looked up and saw the crescent moon. She glanced behind her. The street was empty. She smiled and let her molecules go. Her spirits soared. She sailed beyond the neighborhood toward Hollywood. Catty was right. It was a gift. She wished she had used it more.
Soon she flowed above a boy selling souvenir maps to the stars’ homes for eight dollars. The maps were years old. Most of the stars no longer lived at the addresses listed on the cover.
She concentrated. “Three maps, please,” she said in a ghostly whisper.
The boy looked up and down, then turned completely around.
She laughed, a phantom in the wind, and caught the next breeze.
At Hollywood and Vine, a bus filled with camera-clicking tourists drove by. On a whim she funneled through an open bus window. Then, in her best Marilyn Monroe voice, she whispered, “Welcome to Hollywood, my fine folks.”
The tourists looked bewildered, astonished.
“Don’t be afraid,” she said. “I’m just Tinsel Town magic.”
The tourists clapped.
She spent twenty minutes being Marilyn’s ghost and making tourists laugh. Then she spilled out the window to a burst of applause and waited for the next breeze.
The wind picked up and carried her away. She could stay invisible forever. She didn’t completely understand her power, but she was beginning to understand who she was. Goddess, she thought, and her molecules formed a smile before she rode the breeze with arc-shaped leaps, like a dolphin, up and down toward home.