Chapter Three

I smiled as i stared out over my yard. the blanket I was laying on was warm, and the book I was reading was good. And Devon was- of course- picking me up soon. But today we weren’t going to the park. Devon said that he was keeping it a secret about what we were doing.

I smiled to myself as I stood up and folded the blanket. I put my old cloth bookmark in my book and closed that, too.

Walking back inside, I threw my book on my bed and set the blanket next to my bed.

“Why are you so happy?” someone asked as I jumped face-first onto my bed. It was Isabelle.

“No reason,” I replied happily. She rolled her eyes and sat down on the bed.

“Is it that boy again?” she asked, “Devon?”

“Maybe.”

She didn’t have a chance to reply, because the doorbell rang.

“I’ll get it!” I exclaimed, jumping off my bed. I got to the door and opened it, it was Devon.

There was a gasping noise behind me that conveniently changed to a cough, Isabelle. I smirked.

Devon was wearing a plain black T-shirt and dark blue jeans, but he still looked magnificent next to me. I was wearing a light green quarter-sleeved shirt and light blue jean shorts.

“Hi, Devon,” I greeted. Isabelle made a choking noise again as Devon smiled.

“Is this your sister?” he asked, peeking around my shoulder. I could’ve sworn that if Isabelle wasn’t holding onto the wall she would’ve fainted.

“Yup, that’s Isi.” I replied, stifling a laugh.

“Nice to meet you,” Devon said casually, sticking out a hand. After Isabelle stumbled forward to shake it, Devon turned to me. “Well, let’s go.” I exited the house happily and saw that Devon had his motorcycle.

“So where are we going?” I asked as I sat down on the seat.

“Well, we’re going to my house first, I need to get a truck,” Another vehicle! I realized. “Then, well, you’re just going to have to wait and see.” He seemed almost as excited as I was.

He kicked the motorcycle to life and started off down the road. When we got to his house, my eyes widened. It was as elegant as the boy that lived there!

Tucked deep inside the hills, it was also made of wood. Even from the outside, you could tell it was three stories high. Its landscape was a beautiful green lawn and a few ancient oak trees.

“Want to come in?” Devon asked. I stopped staring and followed him. The interior of the house was beautiful. The dark wood paneling provided a warm atmosphere, but it didn’t dampen the mood. The mood inside the house was happy, hopeful, excited. The furniture was light colors, and there were countless beautiful paintings, all districting forests and forest animals.

“Hey, Ana!” Devon called as he walked inside.

“Be down in a minute!” a soft voice called back.

“I have to go get something, I’ll be right back.” Devon said and went off to a room that would probably be the kitchen.

“Hello,” a sing-song voice said. I turned around and saw who had to be Analee, Devon’s sister.

She had black hair that fell to her shoulders. She was small, too. She was almost pixie-like in her stature. Her cheek bones were as angled as Devon’s and her eyes were the same color as his.

“Hi,” I replied. She walked over to me and I felt a bit self-conscious. Her small frame was covered by a baby blue tank top and dark blue jeans. Her shoulders and feet were bare, and her skin was velvet soft. She was -put very lightly- very pretty.

“You must be Jenica. Devon’s talked a lot about you.” Analee told me casually. I blushed.

“Y-yeah, I’m Jenica.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“You too.”

Devon came in at that time, carrying something behind his back.

“Ready?” he asked. Ana waved to us both and flounced back up the stairs. “The truck we’re going to be taking is in the garage.” He led me across the clean white carpet to a door. “Through here,” he murmured, opening the door.

My eyes widened when we entered the garage. There were three vehicles in it. There was Devon’s mustang, a white, mud-spattered truck, and a bright blue Porsche.

“It’s actually Ana’s truck, but she’s going to let us borrow it today.” Devon explained. He led the way to the muddy truck, and then helped me onto the high floor of it. I looked around inside the small cab, trying to picture tiny Analee driving it, it was difficult.

“Alright,” I said, grinning. Devon nodded, pushed a button on a remote to open the garage door, and backed the truck out of the cavernous room.

I stared out the window as we drove, taking in the scene, we were on a dirt road now, and I realized that they must take this truck out here a lot, considering all the mud that was plastered on it.

We drove without talking. I could tell that Devon was watching me, which honestly scared me a bit. But I wasn’t scared by the fact he was watching me, I was scared by the fact that he wasn’t watching the road.

“We’re here!” he announced as he put the car in park. I grinned as I looked all around. We were in a grass clearing surrounded by trees. On the far end was a small screek.

I jumped out of the truck and ran over to Devon, who had just got out of the truck and was retrieving something from the bed.

* * * * *

Thirty minutes later we were finishing the picnic Ana had made for us. Or rather, I was finishing it, because apparently, Devon wasn’t hungry. He hadn’t eaten a bite.

“Jen?” he asked. His voice was excited.

“Yes…?”

He paused.

“Can I tell you something?” he asked. I thought about my answer, but nodded. “Well, I know all about you past, but you know nothing about mine. Do you want to know?” his eyes gleamed; I knew what he wanted me to say. But I didn’t need any convincing.

“Of course,” I told him. He grinned.

“You need the whole story, I guess,” he said mostly to himself. I smiled encouragingly and kept drinking my water.

“Well…I was born in a time you would most likely remember from your history class.” I looked up at him curiously, and he continued.

“I was born in 1493.”

That stopped me. I set down my water bottle slowly, trying to do the math in my head.

“That means you’re almost six hundred years old!” I couldn’t keep the awe out of my voice.

“Yeah, April twenty-fourth will be my five hundredth and sixty-fourth birthday.”

“Oh.”

He looked at me critically. “Do you mind that I’m telling you this?” I shook my head.

“No, I just need to know more.” I looked at him and smiled sheepishly.

“Well, about fifty years later, people started thinking about witches, sorcery, vampires and stuff like that. My family and I weren’t like normal people, and that scared some. They knew “unnaturals” were killed only by fire. They caught my father, and-” his voice caught, but he continued, “-he protested, hurting any human that tried to catch him. He wasn’t paying attention, and he-”

“Fell into the fire,” I finished in a whisper.

“Well, yes. A few years after that, the same thing happened to me, my sister, my brother and my mother. They caught my brother and mother. Ana and I got away.

“We ran into the surrounding woods, and stayed there for quite a while. Centuries, probably, but it didn’t seem like that long.

“It took Ana that long to start to trust humans again. We moved away to France, where we lived for a few years. We couldn’t stay in one place for too long, our lovely talent for not aging made us keep moving. I could only pass from around sixteen to twenty without causing to much suspicion. High schools and collages are pretty much our lives.”

“How many times have you been to collage?” I asked, still in awe. He grinned.

“I have two masters degrees in literature and a masters degree in Historical Science.

“And I don’t even have my High School Diploma yet.”

He chuckled.

“So, what’s the deal?” I asked, “What kind of superhero are you?”

He took a deep breath. “I’m not a superhero. I’m an elf.”

An image danced across my mind of a tiny creature in a green smock and a pointed green hat. A giggle escaped my lips before I could stop it. Devon smiled.

“I know what you’re thinking,” he said, his eyes twinkling, “But that’s just a story. Real elves are creatures like me.”

“Do you have pointed ears?” I blurted.

“Actually, yes I do,” he admitted. He pulled back his hair to reveal the side of head head. For the first time, I saw his ears. They were shaped much like a human’s, but the tips formed yet another angle, adding to his already angled features.

“Wow,” I breathed, “Next I expect you’ll tell me you work for Santa Clause and make toys!”

“No, I don’t work for Santa. But I am a rather good craftsman . . . and I have been to the North Pole.”

“Of course.” He chuckled as I rolled my eyes. “But I still think you’d look good in a bright green smock.”

And he laughed. He actually laughed a real, genuine laugh. It was a beautiful sound, so joyous that I had to join in. we laughed for a while, lost in happiness.

“And so,” I stated quietly after we calmed down, “Devon is unmasked.”

“Unmasked,” he agreed, flashing me my favorite lopsided smile of his.