After waiting for three whole agonizing days, Julien finally wrote and asked if I was available for lunch on Thursday. I hastily called Lorana to share the news. “See,” Lorana reassured. “He didn’t forget, he just had a lot of work.”
It's amazing how one little text could totally change my mood. For the past three days I was distracted, going over everything I had said during our dinner date. Maybe he didn’t have fun? Why didn’t he write when he said he would? Should I write him? All these things were eating at me, and then, in a matter of seconds, I was no longer worried. I felt over the moon once more.
That night, as I do most Tuesdays, I went over to my parents’ house for dinner. I didn’t utter a word about my upcoming lunch or anything about Julien—not that I was trying to hide it, but I knew they would ask me a ton of questions, and I wasn’t ready for the inquisition just yet.
My mom greeted me at the door with a warm hug. She took my rain jacket and immediately started chattering excitedly about my older sister, Helena, and her latest adventure. Helena was an ophthalmologist, currently working for an organization that provided free eyeglasses to those in need; this month she was in Nepal. We got along great, but because of our eight-year age difference and her travels, we didn’t talk much.
“Dinner's ready, but we were waiting for you to arrive.” I looked at my watch. I wasn’t late; Mom was just early, as usual.
“Can I help with something, Mom?” I offered.
“No, no, dear. Please go sit and relax.” She scurried into the kitchen to get the food.
My father looked up from his paper as I walked into the dining room. He was still wearing his work clothes—today a white suit with dark-blue pinstripes and a dark-blue shirt.
“Good evening, Skyla!” He set the paper down and stood up, walking over to me to give me a big hug. His beard brushed against my check, leaving a scratchy feeling on my face.
“Hi, Dad.” I hugged him back, sat down at the table, and looked around. The walls had been recently repainted so that the top half was a turquoise blue and the bottom half was white. It paired well with the white-painted wooden table and chairs.
“I like the new paint job,” I told them while pouring myself a glass of water.
“Oh, thanks, dear,” Mom called as she entered the dining room from the adjacent kitchen. She set down a bowl of rice with stir-fry vegetables and a casserole dish filled with warm mashed sweet potatoes.
“Some of the young officers came over to help us paint. So sweet. I need to invite them all over for dinner one evening. You could join us too, Skyla!” she suggested enthusiastically.
I knew what that meant. She was perpetually trying to set me up with a nice young Glow officer.
“We’ll see,” I said, serving myself some rice as a smile tugged at the corners of my mouth.
My mom sat down gracefully across from me and served herself some sweet potatoes. Dad was to my left at the head of the table, where he always sat.
“Did you hear?” Mom asked, leaning in excitedly for effect. She was a classy lady, always dressed in slacks or a skirt—never jeans—typically paired with a simple button-down sweater. Today her hair was curled up in a soft bun. She had on a bright yellow sweater with a white shirt and skirt, perfectly complementing her bright personality and the colorful room. She worked part time at a police station, helping field calls and filing documents. My father, a quiet, intelligent man, said nothing.
“What, Mom?” I asked, taking a bite of my mashed sweet potatoes.
“Well, there's a rumor floating around at the station—you know, they pick up D Glows all the time for bad actions, so they hear things.” She paused for a drink of water. “They heard that someone has requested testing for royalty!” The sweet potato on her fork went flying across the table as she flung her hands up in the air in nervous excitement.
“Eska, no need for dramatics,” Dad smiled calmly, peering over the top of his spectacles.
“What are you talking about?” I probed. I found myself leaning forward now, too. I had no idea what she was talking about, but it sounded interesting.
“You know,” my mom exclaimed. “For D Glow queen status.”
I looked at my father to see his reaction. His face revealed nothing.
“Well?” I said, looking at him. “Is it true?” He would likely be able to confirm the rumor since he worked directly for the Bureau of Light.
“It is true.” Dad paused, folding his hands together. “Someone from the LeBete family requested a test. But tests are requested every now and then—it doesn’t mean someone will actually be crowned.”
“What would this mean?” I pressed. “What would happen if someone was actually crowned?”
“It means darkness would have more power behind it,” Mom said nervously. I suddenly felt concerned. How are Light Glows going to be able to maintain goodness if the D Glows have a queen with magic? No one except those in the Bureau of Light know how many L Glows there are in the world. But maybe there are more Light than Dark Glows to help balance this type of power? I remember asking my dad when I turned eighteen if there were more than one hundred L Glows, and he had chuckled. “Yes, Skyla—there are more than a hundred just in New York alone,” he had said, not revealing any more information about our kind.
“No need to worry until there's something to worry about,” my father said reassuringly. He put his napkin to his lips and rose from the table. “Thank you for an excellent meal, Eska.”
“But you barely ate anything!” my mom protested.
“Don’t worry. I’ll have a snack later if I get hungry again, dear,” he said, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “I must go make some calls.”
I watched as he left the room to go to his study. He looked a little like a ship captain today with his white beard and white-and-blue outfit.
My mom handed me an advertisement for plants. “Let there be light!” she chanted. The paper transformed to reveal light news—hidden news only visible to L Glows.
“Look!” she exclaimed, pointing at a picture. “That's Pierre LeBete. I believe the woman standing next to him is the one who will be tested.”
There in the photograph stood Pierre LeBete, a notorious drug lord, businessman, and cartel leader with black eyes and a soulless smile. I shuddered at the image of him. Devilishly good looking but frightening at the same time, he was wearing a dark-red shirt and black-and-white pin-striped suit that looked like something out of the 1940s. A woman by the name of Esmerelda stood by his side. She was the woman my mom suspected would be testing, although no last name was listed for her in the article. I studied her for a minute. There was something about her that fascinated me—something almost familiar. She wore all black and a pair of large black sunglasses that contrasted with her creamy, high-cheekbones. Her lips were painted bright red and her hair was slicked back. Everything about her screamed expensive. The couple had opened a new luxury hotel and were enticing Normal city leaders to hold special events there. Several L Glow agents would certainly be sent to try and help sway influence at the hotel. I set the paper down and faced Mom.
“Like Dad said, there is nothing to worry about yet. Besides, in the end, light always wins,” I recited positively. That was what we learned in our classes, anyway. After helping my mom clean up the kitchen, I headed home. It wasn’t a long drive but it gave me time to think more about the D Glow queen situation. Maybe, if it happens, all the L Glows can band together to fight her? I was curious what Julien would have to say about it. Of course, I’d have to be careful what we discussed in an open setting. My thoughts turned to what I should wear to lunch with him and I stopped thinking about ways to counter darkness.
The next day I met Julien at a local sushi restaurant close to my work. I was ruffling through the menu when Julien rushed in.
“Sorry I’m late,” he said, appearing unusually flustered.
I looked at my watch. He was only three minutes late.
“It's OK, I just got here myself.”
He slipped out of his gray rain jacket, draped it over the back of his chair, and sat down across from me. “Don’t need this anymore today,” he smirked as he tore off his tie and carefully rolled it up and placed it into his jacket pocket. His sculpted collarbones peeked out from under the loosened neck of his shirt and I fought a blush.
“Everything OK?” I asked tenderly. I wanted him to feel comfortable enough to talk to me about work issues—or any issues, really. He initially looked taken aback by my harmless question but quickly rebounded.
“Oh, I thought my meeting would never end,” he sighed. “One guy just kept going on and on. I seriously thought I would have to excuse myself to call you and say I couldn’t make it because certain people aren’t competent enough to be succinct.” He flung his arms in the air dramatically.
I flickered a smile. He was so animated today.
“You don’t wear a tie normally?”
“I guess I could,” he said nonchalantly, “but I don’t really like them, so I just put one on when I have to go to a meeting.” He reached over and grabbed a menu. “Recommend anything?”
“I’ve haven’t been here before, but you can’t go wrong with California rolls.”
I enjoyed watching him as he surveyed the menu. He looked handsome all dressed up in his suit. His hair looked slightly more slicked back today and his cologne was more pronounced, as if he had recently put some on. I glanced at his wrist and noticed that he sported a Citizen watch today.
“No Patek Philippe today?” I asked mischievously.
Julien blushed. “No, I decided to stick to my everyday watch. I think I’ll save the other one just for special occasions.”
We ordered our food and chatted about his meeting and the folks he worked with.
I liked hearing about his ever-fluctuating work schedule and his demanding boss. I felt like he was opening up a little more to me.
“Did you hear about the testing?” I asked casually.
“Um, what test? Are you getting certified for something?” he asked, distracted. He picked up his phone that was laying on the table to look at a message that popped in.
“No, you know, in the news we read.” I emphasized the word “we” so he would know I meant Light news.
He looked up abruptly with a concerned look on his face. “No, I mean, I think I might’ve heard something, but I’m not really sure if we’re talking about the same thing.”
“Well,” I said leaning in. “It's something really crazy, right? I mean if it happens?”
“Oh yeah,” he said slowly. He looked a bit uneasy. Clearly he was as concerned about this testing as I was. “It totally would be crazy. But no point in thinking about it until it happens.” He gave me a half-hearted smile.
“That's what my dad said.”
“Are you finished?” He asked changing the subject. His eyes flashed to the remaining piece of sushi on my plate.
“Yea, I’m full,” I admitted. I guess he didn’t want to talk about it anymore. He probably didn’t feel comfortable discussing light issues around Normals. I could understand that.
After paying the bill, Julien suggested we go grab an espresso at one of the street stands he had seen on his way to the restaurant. This took me by surprise, but in a good way, of course. I think it meant he wanted to spend a little more time with me, so I glowed with happiness for the rest of the day.
“It was so nice,” I swooned to Lorana later that evening over the phone. “He's actually opening up more.”
“Did he kiss you yet?” asked Lorana eagerly.
“No, only on the cheek. That's OK, though—better to go slow, right?” My pulse fluttered as I imagined what it would be like, him gazing into my eyes and leaning in and…
“I guess so,” she said. I focused my thoughts back to the conversation. She was a funny one. I’m sure if he had already kissed me, she would’ve said it was too soon.
“Any sure signs he isn’t a D Glow?” she said, shifting the topic.
“He's not an agent, Lorana!” I exclaimed defensively. “He's never asked me once what my father even does. He drives an old VW Golf and he doesn’t drink. I’m pretty sure there's not a single D Glow in the world that doesn’t drink or smoke.” I’d better not mention the watch right now. She’ll just harp on me about it. Julien explained, after all, why he had it, and that explanation was good enough for me—there was nothing suspicious about it at all.
“He could be lying,” Lorana reminded me.
“He likes me, Lorana, I can feel it! It's not fake.”
“OK,” said Lorana, letting it go. She could tell I was getting agitated, so she changed the subject. I knew she was just trying to protect me, of course, like a good friend does.
“Are you going out again soon?”
“Um, that's what I wanted to talk to you about,” I said gingerly. I didn’t want Lorana to think that the second a guy came into the picture, she was second best.
“I know I said I would go out to the farmer's market with you on Saturday…”
“I see how it is,” Lorana said wisely, interrupting. “You want to go out with him instead?”
“He wants to take me to Coney Island.”
Lorana was quiet at the other end of the line. Now I felt bad.
“OK, no you’re right. I shouldn’t change my plans for a guy.”
“Are you loca?!” Lorana practically yelled into the phone. “I am just messing with you. Go out with him, girl! I am always here. Oh! You should borrow my blue-and-white sweater—it would look great on you.”
“Aw, you’re so thoughtful and understanding, Lorana. I promise to make it up to you!” I gushed. She was truly the best friend ever.