Rainbow Rowell - Wayward Son
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For Rosey and Laddie May you know that youre loved, even when youre lost
Simon Snow did what he came to do.
What they all said he would do someday. He found the big baddiehe found twoand he finished them off.
He didnt expect to live through it. And he hadnt.
Baz once told him that everything was a story, and that Simon was the hero. Theyd been dancing at the time. Touching. Baz was looking at Simon like anything was possible for them now, like love was inevitable.
Everything was a story. And Simon was the hero. He saved the day. Thats when stories endwith everyone looking ahead to happily ever after.
This is what happens if you try to hang on after the end. When your time has come and passed. When youve done the thing you were meant to do.
The theatre goes dark, the pages go blank.
Everything is a story, and Simon Snows is over.
Simon Snow is lying on the sofa.
Simon Snow is pretty much always lying on the sofa these days. With his leathery red wings tucked up behind him like a pillow and a can of cheap cider hanging off his hand.
He used to hold a sword like that. Like it was attached.
Its finally summer in London. Ive been studying all dayexams next week; Bunce and I are buried in books. We both pretend that Snow is studying for his exams, too. He hasnt been at uni in weeks, Id wager. He hasnt been off the sofa unless its to go down to the corner to buy chips and cider; he ties his tail around his waist and hides his wings under a dreadful tan mackintoshhe looks like Quasimodo. Or a flasher. He looks like three kids in a trench coat pretending to be a complete wanker.
The last time I saw Snow without wings and a tail, Bunce had just got home from a lecture. She cast a concealment spell his way without even thinking about itand he went feral on her. For fucks sake, Penny, Ill tell you if I want your magic!
Her magic.
My magic.
It wasnt very long ago that all the magic was his.
He was the One, wasnt he? The most. The magic-est.
Bunce and I never leave him alone now if we can help it. We go to lectures, we study. (Thats what Bunce and I do. Thats who we are.) But theres always one of us aroundmaking Snow tea he wont drink, sharing vegetables he wont eat, asking questions he wont answer
I think he hates the sight of us most days.
I think he hates the sight of me. Maybe I should take the hint.
But Simon Snow has always hated the sight of mewith a few recent and bittersweet exceptions. In a way, that face he makes when I walk in the room (like hes just remembered something awful) is the only thing that still feels familiar.
Ive loved him through worse. Ive loved him hopelessly.
So whats a little less hope?
I think Im going to get a curry, I say. Do you want anything?
He doesnt turn away from the television.
I try again. Do you want anything, Snow?
A month ago, I would have walked to the sofa and touched his shoulder. Three months ago, I would have dropped a kiss on his cheek. Last September, when he and Bunce first moved into this flat, I would have had to pull my mouth away from his to ask the question, and he might not have let me finish.
He shakes his head.
Maya Angelou said that when someone shows you who they are, you should believe them.
I heard that on an inspirational television show. It came on after Law & Order, and I didnt change the channel.
When someone shows you who they are, believe them.
Thats what Im going to say when I break up with Baz.
Im doing it so that he doesnt have to.
I can tell he wants to end this. I can see it in the way he looks at me. Or in the way he doesnt look at mebecause if he did, hed have to face what a tosser hes saddled himself with. What an absolute loser.
Baz is at uni now. Thriving.
And hes as handsome as ever. (More handsome than ever. Taller, bolder, with a beard now anytime he wants one. Like adolescence isnt quite done dealing him aces.)
Everything that happened last year
Everything that happened with the Mage and the Humdrum just made Baz more of who he was meant to be. He avenged his mother. He solved the mystery thats hung over him since he was 5. He proved himself as a man and a magician.
He proved himself right: The Mage really was evil! And I really was a fraudthe worst Chosen One whos ever been chosen, just like Baz used to say. He was right about me all along.
When someone shows you who they are, believe them.
When someone fucks up absolutely everythingthat person is an absolute fuckup.
I dont know how to make it any more clear to him. I lie here on the sofa. And I dont have any plans. And I dont have any promise. And this is what I am.
Baz fell in love with what I waspower and potential unchecked. Nuclear bombs are nothing but potential.
Now Im what comes after.
Now Im the three-headed frog. The radioactive fallout.
I think Baz would have broken up with me by now if he didnt feel so sorry for me. (And if he hadnt promised to love me. Magicians get hung up on honour.)
So Ill be the one to do it. I can do it. One time, an orc-upine shot a needle into my shoulder, and I tore it out with my own teethI can handle pain.
I just
I wanted a few more nights of this. Of him being here in the room with me, mine on the surface at least.
Ill never have someone like Baz again. There is no one like Baz; its like dating someone out of a legend. Hes a heroic vampire, a gifted magician. Hes dead handsome. (I used to be someone out of a legend. I was Foretold, you know? I used to be part of the oral tradition.)
I wanted a few more nights of this.
But I hate watching Baz suffer. I hate being the reason he suffers.
Baz, I say. I sit up and set down my can of cider. (Baz hates cider, even the smell of it.)
Hes standing at the front door. Yes?
I swallow. When someone shows you who they are
Penny bursts in then, jamming Bazs shoulder with the door.
For Crowleys sake, Bunce!
Ive got it! Penny drops her backpack. Shes wearing a baggy purple T-shirt, and her dark brown hair is scraped into a messy knot at the top of her head.
Got what? Baz frowns.
Weshe points at Baz and me bothare going on holiday!
I rub my palms into my eyes. Theyre crunchy with sleep, even though Ive been up for hours. Not going on holiday, I mumble.
To America! she persists. She pushes my feet off the sofa, and sits on the arm, facing me. To see Agatha!
Baz barks out a laugh. Ha! Does Agatha know were coming?
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