But—and believe me, I look closely—there is not a tail. Thank you, universe.
I can deal with the horns. Not happily, but I can deal with them, as long as I don’t also have to deal with a tail.
Macy gives me a minute, several minutes actually, before she finally says, “See, you look amazing. Total badass.”
“I look like a statue.” I raise one brow. “Although I guess I could wait out a fight and win that way. Eventually. Boredom be thy sword.”
Macy shrugs as she picks up a can of Dr Pepper and drinks it through a strawberry Twizzler straw. “I’m sure gargoyles have all sorts of cool powers.” She waves a hand, and a second Dr Pepper floats across the room to me.
“See?” I pluck my drink out of thin air and take a long sip—also through the Twizzler straw because, while I might be a gargoyle, I’m not a total animal. “You can do cool things like wiggle your fingers and get a full face of makeup. All I can do is—”
“Save the world?”
I roll my eyes. “I’m pretty sure that’s a bit of an exaggeration.”
“And I’m pretty sure you don’t know enough about who and what you are to decide if it’s an exaggeration or not. Grace, being a gargoyle—” She breaks off, blows out a long breath, even as she runs a hand through her bizarre pink hair. “Being a gargoyle is, like, the coolest thing ever.”
“How would you know? Marise told me there hasn’t even been one for a thousand years.”
“Exactly! That’s what I’m saying. You’re one of a kind! Isn’t that awesome?”
Not really, no. Being the center of that kind of attention has never exactly been my vibe. But I’ve come to know Macy—and the current look on her face—well enough to know that there’s no use arguing with her about this.
Still, I can’t stop myself from saying, “‘Awesome’ might be a little bit of an exaggeration.”
“No, it’s not. Everyone thinks so.”
“And by everyone, you mean you and your dad?” I joke.
“No, I mean everyone! They’ve all seen you and—” She breaks off, suddenly becoming incredibly interested in her soda.
Which seems like it bodes badly for me. Very, very badly. “Exactly how many people have seen me, Macy? You said I was in your dad’s office and then tucked away in the library.”
“You were! But you’ve got to understand: you were frozen in stone for almost four months. Dad and Jaxon nearly lost their minds with worry.”
“I thought you said being a gargoyle is cool.”
“Being a gargoyle is cool. Being stuck as a gargoyle…not so much. They tried everything to get you to turn back—and ‘everything’ meant consulting as many different experts around the world as they could find. And the experts all wanted to see you, because they didn’t believe you were a gargoyle. They thought you’d been cursed by a witch or a siren or something. And then, when word got out that you really were a gargoyle…well, they all demanded to see you before they would consult.”
I get up and start to pace the room. “So, what? They all just flew to Alaska to get an in-person chance to examine me?”
“Of course they did!” She shoots me an exasperated look. “I feel like you’re not fully comprehending the whole only-one-in-existence thing. The experts would have flown to the moon, if that’s where they had to go to see you. Not to mention, Jaxon and my dad would have flown them to the moon themselves if they thought it would help you.”
I get that. It even makes a twisted kind of sense to me. And yet I still can’t get over feeling squicked out at people I don’t know examining me when I was totally out of it. And Jaxon and my uncle allowing it.
It’s not even that I don’t understand why they did it. I think about if my parents had survived that car accident and were in comas or something. If they needed medical care, I would have done anything I could to make sure they got it.
Not going to lie, though. It just feels like one more thing I’ve lost. And one more thing I couldn’t afford to lose.
I stop pacing and sink back onto my bed in defeat.
“Grace?” Macy comes over to sit next to me, and for the first time since we ran into each other in the foyer, she looks concerned. “Are you okay? I know this is a lot, but I swear, it’s a good thing. You’ve just got to give it a chance.”
“What about my memory?” I swallow the lump in my throat, because I don’t cry in front of people, even my best friends. “What if it never comes back? I know I was turned to stone, and maybe the reason I don’t remember anything is because there’s nothing to remember.”