Open Thy Heart

Prologue

THE FIERY hot sun melts down, down, down, away from the lavender sky, and into the dark horizon. A gentle breeze dances across your skin. The light scent of salt surrounds you, inspiring you to take one of those breaths that fills your lungs and leaves you so relaxed when you let it out that you have to question whether you’re still standing. You curl your toes into the sand to anchor yourself, close your eyes as the waves crest, crash, and try, ever so desperately, to pull you back with them. But the waves cannot take you. You hold your ground. For today, you’re with your love. You’ve met for months at night at various places, but for circumstances beyond your control, up until this moment, you’ve never really seen their entire face.

So here you are together, before the most beautiful hombre sky, heat crashing through your veins and water lapping at your legs, your heart swelling at the realization of what’s just happened.

Shocker of shockers: You were not prepared for this. Not for the way their full lips curl up at the corners, not to finally see their strong, defined chin. And the left dimple that, really, you should have seen coming? It shocks you. Makes it difficult to focus.

And they’re on their knees in the ocean, declaring their feelings for you using your favorite lines from your most favorite play as if it’s the most normal thing there is.

It’s the moment of moments, the big finale. The time when everyone breaks into applause and the curtain closes and they rise to their feet and give you a standing ovation.

As you take all of that in, the seriousness of it clicks in your brain. This may be the biggest thing that has ever happened to you, but you can’t tell anyone about it when you get home. Not your sisters, not your mom, not even your best friends. No one can know, because you’re stuck in some time/world difference thing, and the guy who’s standing in front of you is, well, he’s basically your everything.

This is exactly what happened to me recently, at the beginning of summer break. But let me back up some, so things will make more sense.

From the day I turned six on, two odd things on my birthday always happened. First, a yellow dahlia would mysteriously arrive on my porch early in the morning. Second, at night, when I went to sleep, I’d have dreams of going to a forest.

No witnesses were ever found regarding the deliverer of the dahlia; no evidence or explanations found. The only true consistency, beside the flower’s arrival itself, was that Helen would go into a hand wringing, window and door locking panic every time she saw it. The older my sisters and I grew, the more we realized life would be easier if we hid the flower and pretended it stopped coming. So that’s what we did.

As for the dreams, it was always nighttime in the forest. I got so used to going there alone over the years that I would walk to the clearing by the light of the moon, find a cluster of rocks next to what became my favorite creek, and hang out there, until waking the following morning.

Considering how many years this happened, and knowing I was always there by myself, imagine my surprise when, on the night of my sixteenth birthday, a man wearing a dark mask appeared on the other side of the creek, and told me to leave. I didn’t even know I could go home, until he said that. And where did he suddenly come from after all of these years?

Unlike other birthdays where the dreams would gradually stop after a couple of weeks, this time, I continued going back. Rowan, the masked man, would be there when I arrived, ready to talk, introduce me to his horse, Ebon, ask me about my family.

Months passed. Rowan and I got to know each other better with every dream. We spent more and more time together until there was no denying there was a serious connection. And I’m not talking your normal, I think this guy is hot kind of connection, either. I could actually feel warmth beneath my skin when we were together, and it grew even stronger when we touched. That didn’t seem dream-like to me. But I didn’t dare tell anyone, because who would believe it?

Eventually, I learned my dreams weren’t dreams at all. I was being brought to Rowan’s world of Ambrosia by Rowan himself. And get this: Rowan was a Prince!

Come to find out, my own family had roots in Ambrosia also. I would have loved to ask my father how we ended up in present-day Shaver, California, but sadly, he passed away when I was five. He did, however, give my twin sisters, Aster and Acacia, and me something of his to share from there: the middle name, Hastings. Being as that’s our Royal name in Ambrosia, I’m pretty sure he knew at least something about it.

As for my mother, Helen, I haven’t figured out how to ask her about Ambrosia without openly admitting that I’ve been going there behind her back since winter. Doing that would mean never leaving the house again. Helenium does mean tears, after all, and that’s basically who Helen is. A teary, flustered mess, who’s so scared something bad will happen, she still treats me like I’m five. Hence why I call her Helen. I’ve sorta had to distance myself from her emotionally, in order to not lose my mind.

Over the past six months, a lot has happened, but I’d have to say the most trying event was Rowan getting captured by the Townsends. The Townsends say Rowan’s uncle, Oleander, should be king, and are adamant that Rowan’s side of the family is not the rightful heirs. Following Rowan’s escape, tension amongst the Royal family; Oleander and Rowan’s cousin, Hawthorne; the Townsends; and the Ambrosians grew. The Townsends began to feed the Ambrosians lies about the Queen, saying she had grown careless and selfish and other horrible things. And Hawthorne, who used to practically be Rowan’s brother, was banished with Oleander to Crowe Island, for having a hand in Rowan’s capture.

Once Rowan escaped, we knew I was going to have to stay away from Ambrosia until things calmed down. I had come back to see him one last time when I finally saw him. He was so much better more beautiful than I had imagined. And those lines—I was totally taken by surprise when he quoted The Tempest.

We clung to each other as the sky grew dark and stars became glistening lights, speckled across the water.

I have something for you, Rowan said, after a while.

Do you, now?

A zing of heat shot through my chest as I watched him bite his lip, and reach underneath his shirt. After six months of seeing nothing but his eyes, it was strange being able to watch his expressions.

Resisting the urge to lean over and kiss him, I eyed the leather cord as he pulled it over his neck.

Not yet, he warned, dropping it into his palm and shoving it behind him.

I should have been more curious about what he was hiding, but his face was a total distraction. His nose was almost perfect, and it was shocking how the roundness of his cheeks totally fit his personality. I could see every twitch of his lips, the slight crease in his chin when he was serious, the left dimple when he smiled. There wasn’t a single doubt in my mind when he said those lines in the ocean. He spoke true. His face proved it.

Rowan tilted his head. Do you not want to know what it is? You do not seem very curious.

"Only because I already know you’re going to show me. You are so horrible at keeping secrets, my Prince."

He feigned surprise, and both of us laughed. Pretty much our entire relationship had involved secrets up to that point. Actually telling me them was what he was horrible at.

So? What is it, then? I asked.

Open your hands.

Hanging at the end of a thin, leather chord was a nickel-sized, metallic disc. It reminded me of what people in Ambrosia wear to show what they stand for; whose family they belong to. The only thing missing was a crest.

Is that a— I gasped.

A dahlia, he finished. Yes.

Dahlias have a lot of petals. Much more than a daisy, for instance. The whole, he loves me, he loves me not deal people use daisies for? It would take forever to do that with a dahlia.

I ran my fingers over the miniscule flower, etched into the metal with incredible detail. It’s gorgeous. Thank you so much.

Sparks scattered beneath my skin as he placed the chord around my neck.

And, much like my feelings for you, Rowan said, kissing me on my temple, This flower will never tarnish. Oh, go ahead with it, then. He laughed.

I’d been caught staring at his lips.

Well I mean, if you insist...

We stayed on that damp sand until early morning, sharing kisses and making brand new secrets. We were together by choice and connection now. There was no going back.

Chapter One

FUNNY HOW for a whole ten months we whine and complain for summer break and then when we finally get it, everybody’s bored out of their brains in a couple weeks. I figured this summer would be different, considering the big ole’ senior year coming up, but nope.

Colorado!

Where? I don’t see it. You’re lying.

The air is hot and dry, the sky blue and littered with clouds reminding me of those cute sheep on the mattress commercials. Eva and I are running errands in her Bug because we are bored and desperate to do something (like getting Mrs. Heaton masa harina for her tamales, or me a new hairbrush yesterday because my sister, Aster, decided to use mine on the neighbor’s cat). I’m sick of playing this game but Eva is hardcore now and won’t let up.

I’m not one to go to the lake all of the time, so aside from not having homework, my schedule hasn’t changed; I’ve just gotten more free time. And that free time is wasted time, considering everything I’d love to be doing has nothing to do with being anywhere near Shaver.

You don’t believe me?

I crane my neck toward the window in search of proof of the license plate. Umhm…

You really think I’d stoop so low as to lie about something like this? she asks, glancing over. Her dark ponytail whisks across her shoulders when she looks back at the road. You’re just jealous because I’m three ahead of you. She smirks.

Three’s easy to catch up with. I shrug. Note to self: stop daydreaming about Rowan and pay better attention to the road. I can’t pinpoint when this started exactly, but not long after release for summer break, the state/license plate competition we hadn’t played in ages came back into full swing again. At first, I was doing pretty well. The weird ones like Utah and Montana and Alaska, even—Alaska! In Shaver, California, of all places—were popping out of nowhere, and I was calling all kinds of states.

But, over the past few days, my eyes have started slacking.

Not a good thing, as Eva is a big time gloater. If she wins, she’ll rub this in my face at Sir Scoops A Lot every Friday for the rest of the summer.

Why I offered to pay for our insane sherbet and ice creams every week, plus drinks from A Latte Coffee once a week, too, I have no idea.

Oh wait. Yeah, I do. I thought I’d win.

But Eva is even quicker at noticing things than my other sister, Acacia. That reminds me. I need to hit her up soon for some pointers on how to distract Eva from this license plate madness.

See! Eva says, excited. She points to my left and the car swerves in the same direction. I grab hold of the handle on the side of my door. There it is right there. That green truck with a wheelbarrow in its bed.

A beat-up truck, the kind I would imagine my grandpa driving if I’d ever met him, sans automatic windows and most likely those wide, crunchy old seatbelts that take forever to adjust, turns the corner right before I can check out the plate.

Well, of course you would notice the green, I point out. Maybe that should be rule number ten. No zeroing in on your favorite colors.

Oh, genius, Dahlia. Eva laughs. I mean, really. We’re going to make up rules according to convenience now, is that how you’re going to play it?

Whatever I gots-ta do. I shrug. "You’re not gonna be the wiener— I say the word like she used to when we were in kindergarten and she blows hair out the side of her mouth and rolls her eyes toward Bertie’s ceiling. I will."

She moves around a biker on the side of the road, and I hold my breath until we’ve safely passed her. You know what? Make up whatever rules you want. At the end of the day, I’ll still be winning, and at the end of the summer, I’ll still have a whole lot more money than you. She licks her lips. Mmmm. I can taste the coffee already.

Confident much?

Taking her hand off the wheel to do the universal money sign with her fingers, she grins. "I’m going to get every topping there is on my insanes, and be so full by the time I’m done I’ll look like Violet on Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. You’ll have to roll me out and heft me into the trunk to get me home."

"And then we’ll have to call somebody to drive us home, because, I lean over, stressing every word, I. Do. Not. Have. My. Drivers. License."

We turn onto the main street that takes us away from the houses and toward the shops and businesses about a quarter mile up, and all the way home, Eva recalls each and every state she’s gotten. By the time she reaches number ten—Idaho—I-dunno if I’ll be able to handle this much longer.

Bets are fun and all, but there are way are way more important things to worry about this summer. Like the list I’ve had for years that still has a couple things not crossed off. So while I appreciate Eva’s willingness to take me places, and her divulging in this game with me because we’re so blasted bored, she is with Ethan now, and us three being in the same place at the same time have made for some pretty awkward moments. You know those one or two random times in life when you’re sitting on the edge of the bed, getting dressed, and accidentally stuff both legs into the same pant leg and almost fall over? Imagine trying to get a third leg in there, and trying to move around on top of that. It’s already pretty tight with two legs in there, and then here I come into the Eva and Ethan pant leg, the odd third limb stuffing myself in, and everything goes off kilter and we end up pitching sideways and fall to the floor and everybody’s all bruised and they’re annoyed at me and all I can do is slink away and hope they forget I was ever there.

That look you get when a person discusses something you know nothing about and you try to chime in? Or when two people are in the middle of making out and you walk up and stare at them and they want to know why you’re invading their little love bubble and shoot lasers at you? I’ve gotten that way too many times since summer break began.

Not fair, if you ask me. I’m used to being a third wheel at home. I shouldn’t have to be one with my best friend, too. My older sisters acted as though I was a buzzing fly and they desperately wanted me squished beneath the swatter. Acacia and I’ve grown much closer over the past year, though her summer has been super-packed with stuff. Hopefully soon I’ll be able to tell her a secret I’ve been holding onto for months.

And Aster, well, she seems to like me less and less. I haven’t even done anything different that I know of, but the older I get, the more Ass-y she gets.

And if you think that you’re going to know how to drive just because of sitting in my car watching me, Dalls, you’re crazy.

Huh? Eva’s lecture snaps me back to the inside of the car, and I let her words replay in my mind before responding. I know I’m not going to know how to drive by just watching you. Acacia already offered to take me somewhere to get the hang of it; I just have to convince Helen.

"Convince her? she snorts. Oh. Yeah. Very funny."

"She has gotten a little nicer since we got out of school. I remind her. I might have a chance now."

Nicer, yes. She flicks her blinker on and eyes her mirror real fast. But after a lifetime of strictness, I can’t imagine her all of a sudden giving you a crap-load more privileges just because you’re in a new class. What? she asks, when my mouth drops open in disgust.

Oh, I don’t know, maybe I thought I could depend on you, of all people, to be my support during these non-fun teenage years?

"I am supporting you, she says, turning into the parking lot. But what kind of friend would I be if I tried to convince you that after all these years, your mom is suddenly going to be any different? Bertie’s front tires hit the concrete block at the front of the parking stall, and we lurch to a stop, our heads bobbing like the hula-belly guy Ethan got her that’s sitting on the dash. Whoops. She smiles. Guess even pros mess up once in a while."

Pros? Ha. See? Getting my license is necessary for my sanity and for my survival. I close my eyes, let my equilibrium to settle back to normal. There’s got to be a way to convince Helen to let me drive, a way to see my boyfriend without constantly having to sneak away or depend on other people. Which would be nice. No, beyond nice. It would be… fantastical.

When we step out of the car, the sun’s rays greet us like a long-lost pal, warm, and welcoming. There are a lot of super-hot areas of California, but Shaver isn’t one. This is why I don’t go to the lake often; it’s not warm enough for me to warrant actually getting into the water. And it’s pretty hard to stay out of it when my other best friend, David, is around.

Delicious, freshly-brewed coffee enters my nostrils. I turn my face to the sky, and soak in its warmth. Then Eva and I lock eyes and practically float across the gravel parking lot to A Latte Coffee.

We are getting a drink first, right? Not only breakfast? I ask, wrapping my fingers around the handle.

Is Mars full of monkeys?

I arch my eyebrows. Not that I know of.

What I meant was, she motions for me to open the door already, did you really think we could help David decorate without any liquid energy ruckusing through our veins?

In a little over forty-eight hours, our best friend, David, is throwing a party for his eighteenth birthday. Technically, it’s not for a couple of weeks on the first of August, but this was the only weekend the lake property was still available. Turns out, Mr. William, the guy who runs the area of the lake where David works and all of the water rentals that go with it, actually gave him permission to throw a party at the north end. At night. Which never happens, but David just has this personality, this touch of charisma, that makes everyone like him and want to do whatever it takes to be a recipient of one of his amazing smiles. I’m sure all it took was one peep of his grill and dimples, and Mr. William probably begged him to throw it.

To prepare for everything, David requested today, tomorrow and the day after that off. So here we are, picking out a few decorations because David’s our best friend and he’s turning the big 1-8. Considering the fact that Uppers—the more financially stable people here in town who are very uh, privileged, we’ll say, and make sure everyone knows this—are usually the only ones who throw parties on shore, this party is a Big Deal. Soon as Lowers started talking about it, word hopped around town quicker than a frog on steroids. One minute a small group of us were planning David’s birthday get-together, the next, Haydenite Lowers were popping up all over town, asking when it was and if they could go.

Hayden High isn’t large—a few years ago Shaver’s population was only about 700—so the amount of people coming won’t be a problem, long as we make sure it’s the right kind of people. David has had this thing against Uppers for years now—long story—so he doesn’t want them ruining anything. We—Lowers—care about other people and their feelings filters are still on, therefore, we’re not so into ourselves that the few parties we do throw ever spin out of control. We stand up for individuality and think nothing of people not conforming to one category, both of which are kind of necessary to keep a party from turning into one big click-fest full of gossip and attitude and finger pointing. Uppers are known to not only part a crowd faster than you can say, I think I’m going to vomit. They also hold no regard for people’s possessions at all—that lack of being financially responsible for anything showing. You really have no choice but to shake your head and clean up whatever Hurricane Upper has left in its wake when they leave your party.

Hence Uppers not coming to the big shebang, and hence Eva and I going shopping. If this is going to be a thing, a big Lower thing that most of us hardly ever get to take part in, we want it to be something David will never forget.

Speaking of David, I’m really looking forward to seeing him. We haven’t gotten to hang out much due to his job at the lake and mine at Shoreline Books. It’s been strange. During school, and pretty much every other summer, we saw each other practically every day. I can’t wait for us all to catch up at the lake.

A few minutes and sips of liquid energy later, Eva and I are slightly more awake and sauntering through the party supply store three spaces down from A Latte Coffee. Days ago, we hit Everything You Always Wanted, and got pretty much everything, with the exception of one particular thing.

I still don’t see them. What were they called again? I take a slurp of my iced mocha latte, and head down the lights and accessories aisle. And how come I can’t remember what they’re called for the life of me?

Eva pops out from the next aisle over, nearly making me drop my drink. Lanterns?

Right. I nod. Yes. Lanterns. The Green Lantern. That’s how I’ll remember it. Lantern, lantern, lanternnnnnn.

She sucks in her cheeks until her lips are sticking out all funny, and holds up some sort of inflatable fish. I’m taken back to feeling the squish beneath my finger when I poked a fish’s eye at the meat market as a kid. The thing’s hideous and covered head to tail with leathery-looking scales; and its overly realistic eyes look like they’re about to pop out of its head and roll down the aisle.

"That is the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen." I say, choking down my coffee.

Right? She wiggles her eyebrows. "I say we get a bunch."

For David’s party? I shake my head no.

Duh. She pets it on the head. Why else?

Uh-uh. It’s so ugly. David would not be happy.

The point isn’t for David to like it. The point is to make people laugh. A few dark strands of hair fall in front of her eyes. She pulls her shoulders back, and sets a hand on her chest. Sometimes, opportunities appear out of nowhere like this, and it’s our job not to let them pass us by. I swear I hear the national anthem blaring through the loudspeaker as Eva makes the big, inflatable bass wiggle around, tail down, in some sort of fish dance. And this is one of those times I speak of—a time to enjoy the comical moment before it’s lost forever to the world of seriousness and boring nonsense. This is too good to pass up, Dalls. Think of David. Think, she taps her chest twice with a fist and then salutes me, of the people.

I’m still trying to think of what to say to that when Eva salutes me and walks away, chattering to her new friend. Shaver Lake at night under a bright, full moon, our friends dancing under old-school white lights—no wait, we changed that to white lanterns—lanterns strung everywhere and music blaring and… hideous inflatable fishes blowing around?

He’s going to kill you if you use those ugly things, I yell out. And I’m not talking minors, here. You won’t be swimming with the fishes, Eva. You’ll be swimming with the sharks.

Silly Dalls. There are no sharks in Shaver!

The fish comes flying at me from over the top of the shelves. I catch it like it’s a hot potato and chuck it back over. Stahp!

But this is gold, man. This idea. She’s by my side now. I am so proud.

My phone vibrates. I find a place to set my coffee, and fumble around for it in my pocket.

Call me Elfish. Eva says, squeezing the fish’s inflated, plastic lips. Thank youuuu. Thank you very much.

It’s David. I motion for her to shush. Birthday party decorators deluxe. Dahlia speaking. How may I help you?

Ice cream. Tomorrow night. That’s a Friday, in case you forgot. David doesn’t believe in wasting time with unnecessary formalities such as hello or good afternoon or how are you? He just starts talking.

Tomorrow night… I glance at Eva. She’s wrapped the fish, now being referred to as Billy Boy, around her neck like a scarf, and is dancing in front of the exit. Uh, ice cream?

What could I do around the house that might make Helen willing to let me go out twice in one week after sundown? I think how I might be able to get on her good side. It’s only been a few weeks since I was grounded after going to see my boyfriend, Rowan. At the time, I had no idea things aren’t the same here as they are where he is in his world, so when I accidentally showed up early in the morning instead of sneaking back in at like, eleven, well, Groundation happened. It was a mess. Helen’s already very strict as it is, so aside from going to Eva’s, she’s only allowed me out after dark on one occasion since. And that was to take something to the White’s house two doors down. For about five minutes.

Considering me getting to go to David’s party is a big deal, especially since neither of my sisters are going, the usual precursor to Helen allowing me to do those sorts of things, the ice cream idea probably isn’t going to fly. But maybe I could manage it. If I came up with the perfect angle.

I might be able to. Maybe—

What!

Will you tell me when so I can ask? You know how my mom is—

What! He yells again, ever so loudly.

David, stop! Tell me when—

What!

Seriously! You’re not funny!

What!

Okay fine. Call me back when whatever it is you’re on has worn off. I’m hanging up.

Wha—

Click.

Speaking of being on someone’s good side, when you’re on David’s, he can get really annoying.

Somebody excited for their par-tay? Eva points Elfish at me in sword form this time.

I throw my hands up in surrender.

Whoa. She frowns. What’s wrong?

Nothing. Why?

Well, you have stink-face, Dalls.

David’s a tad hyper at the moment, that’s all. My ear is still trying to recover.

That’s because his little sweetheart is coming to his party and he is very excited about this. Her voice gets higher and higher with each word she says and grabs my arm, and then it’s my turn to frown. Because Eva knows I’m so not David’s… ugh. And he knows too, after our talk at Sir Scoops A Lot right after school got out for the summer. It was so awkward having to admit to liking someone but not be able to tell him about Rowan.

The whole Ambrosia thing is plain ole awkward.

My stomach sinks. Not knowing when I will see Rowan again makes every day feel so much longer. Though I have gotten to see him a few times, the indefiniteness of anything, the lack of being in control of things, is something I’ve yet to get used to. It’s made this summer very frustrating.

What? Bringing Elfish to her ear, Eva gives an emphatic nod. Oh, okay. She turns to me. He says let’s check out because he knows where to find the lanterns.

I paste a smile on my face, and follow her to the register.

Chapter Two

SUN BURSTS through the window, lighting up the north side of my bedroom. The brightness reminds me of the dahlia