L. Smith - Moonsong

Bonnie swal owed, then stepped up onto Zander’s hands and stretched for the ladder. Once she swung her leg up onto the bottom rung, it was a piece of cake, although the slightly rusty metal was rough against her hands. She spared a moment to thank al the powers of the universe that she had decided to wear jeans rather than a skirt tonight.

Zander trailed behind her up the fire escape from one landing to another until final y they arrived on the roof.

“Are we al owed to be up here?” Bonnie asked nervously.

“Wel ,” Zander said slowly, “probably not. But I come up here al the time, and no one’s ever told me not to.” He smiled that warm, wonderful smile at her and added, “This is one of my favorite places.”

It was a nice view, Bonnie had to admit that. Below them, the campus stretched, leafy and green and mysterious.

If anyone else had brought her up here, though, she would have complained about the rusty fire escape and the concrete roof, suggested that maybe a date should involve going somewhere. This was a date, wasn’t it? She froze momentarily in a panic, trying to recal exactly what Zander had said when he suggested meeting here. She didn’t remember the words themselves, but they definitely had a date-y feel to them: she wasn’t a kid anymore, she knew when she was being asked out.

And Zander was so cute, it was worth making an effort.

“It’s pretty up here,” she said lamely and then, looking around at the flat dirty concrete, “I mean being so high up.”

“We’re closer to the stars,” Zander said, and took her hand. “Come on over here.” His hand was warm and strong, and Bonnie held on to it tightly. He was right, the stars were beautiful. It was cool to be able to see them more clearly, here above the trees.

He led her over to the corner of the roof, where a ratty old army blanket was spread out with a pizza box and some cans of soda. “Al the comforts of home,” he said.

Then, quietly, “I know this isn’t a very fancy date, Bonnie, but I wanted to share this with you. I thought you would appreciate what’s special about being up here.”

“I absolutely do,” Bonnie said, flattered. A secret little cheer went up inside her: Hurray! Zander definitely knows we’re on a date!

Pretty soon Bonnie found herself tucked up against Zander’s side, his arm around her shoulders, eating hot, greasily delicious pizza and looking at the stars.

“I come up here alone a lot,” Zander told her. “One time last year I just lay here and watched a big fat ful moon get swal owed up by the earth’s shadow in an eclipse. It was nearly pitch black without the light of the ful moon, but I could stil see its dark red shape in the sky.”

“The Vikings thought eclipses were caused by two wolves, one who wanted to eat the sun, and one who wanted to eat the moon,” Bonnie said idly. “I forget which one wanted to eat the moon, but whenever either a solar or a lunar eclipse happened, people were supposed to make a lot of noise to scare the wolf away.” Zander looked down at her. “That’s a random piece of information to know.” But he smiled as he said it.

Bonnie wriggled with delight under the sheer force of his smile. “I’m interested in mythology,” she said. “Druid and Celtic, mostly, but myths and stories in general. The Druids were into the moon, too: they had a whole astrology based on the lunar calendar.” She sat up straighter, enjoying the admiring look on Zander’s face. “Like, right now, from late August to late September, we’re in the month of the Artist Moon. But in a couple of weeks, we’l be in the month of the Dying Moon.”

“What does that mean?” Zander asked. He was very close to her, gazing straight into her eyes.

“Wel , it means it’s a time of endings,” Bonnie said. “It’s al about dying and sleep. The Druid year begins again after Hal oween.”

“Hmm.” Zander was stil watching her intently. “How do you know so much, Bonnie McCul ough?” A little smile played around his mouth.

“Um, my ancestors were Druids and Celtics,” Bonnie said, feeling stupid. “My grandmother told me we were descended from Druid priestesses, and that’s why I see things sometimes. My grandmother does, too.”

“Interesting,” Zander said softly. His tone grew lighter.

“So you see things, do you?”

“I real y do,” Bonnie said, seriously, staring back at him.

She hadn’t meant to tel him that. She didn’t want to weird him out, not on their first date, but she also didn’t want to lie to him.

So blue. Zander’s eyes were as deep as the sea, and she was fal ing farther and farther into them. There was nothing above her, nothing below, she was ceaselessly, gently fal ing.

With a wrench, Bonnie pul ed her eyes away from Zander’s. “Sorry,” she said, shaking her head. “That was weird. I think I almost fel asleep for a minute.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Zander said, but his face looked stiff and strange. Then he flashed that warm, enchanting smile again and got to his feet. “Come on, I want to show you something.”

Bonnie stood slowly. She felt a little strange stil , and she pressed her hand briefly against her forehead.

“Over here,” Zander said, tugging her by the other hand.

He led her to the corner of the roof and stepped up onto the narrow ledge running around it.

“Zander,” Bonnie said, horrified. “Come down! You might fal !”

“We won’t fal ,” Zander said, smiling down at her. “Climb on up.”

“Are you crazy?” Bonnie said. She’d never liked heights much. She remembered crossing a high, high bridge once with Damon and Elena. They’d had to if they were going to save Stefan, but she never would have been able to do it, except Damon had used his Power and convinced her she was an acrobat, a tightrope walker to whom heights were nothing. When he’d released her from his Power, after they crossed the bridge, her retroactive fear had been nauseating.

Stil , she’d made it across that bridge, hadn’t she? And she had promised herself she would be more confident, stronger, now that she was in col ege. She looked up at Zander, who was smiling at her, sweetly, eagerly, his hand extended. She took it and let him help her climb onto the ledge.

“Oh,” she said, once she was up there. The ground swam dizzyingly far below her, and she yanked her eyes away from it. “Oh. No, this is not a good idea.”

“Trust me,” Zander said, and took her other hand so that he was holding on to her securely. “I won’t let you fal .” Bonnie looked into his blue, blue eyes again and felt comforted. There was something so candid and straightforward in his gaze. “What should I do?” she asked, and was proud when her voice was steady.

“Close your eyes,” Zander said, and when she’d done that, “and pick your right foot up off the ledge.”

“What?” Bonnie asked, and almost opened her eyes again.

“Trust me,” Zander said again, and this time there was a rich undercurrent of laughter in his voice. Hesitantly, Bonnie lifted her foot.

Just then, the wind picked up, and Bonnie felt like it was about to scoop her off the ledge and throw her into the sky like a kite whose string had snapped. She tightened her grip on Zander’s hands.

“It’s al right,” he said soothingly. “It’s amazing, Bonnie, I promise. Just let yourself be. Life isn’t worth living if you don’t take risks.”

Inhaling deeply and then letting the breath out, Bonnie forced herself to relax. The wind was blowing her curls everywhere, whistling in her ears, tugging at her clothes and her raised leg. As she relaxed into it, she felt almost as if she was being lifted, gently, into the sky, the air al around supporting her. It was like flying.