by JB Dutton
* * * * *
By the time I got to school I only had one goal – to confront Noon and find out what was behind the Temple of Truth. At lunchtime I grabbed a tray of food and scanned the crowded cafeteria but I couldn’t see him. Cruz was there though, alone at a table, looking straight at me. He gave me a half-smile and I found myself edging past the chairs toward him. All those feelings from the language lab flooded back.
“Hey,” he said, shifting over to make room for me. But as I got to the table, his smile faded. “You alright?”
Why was he asking that, I wondered? Was there something wrong with me?
“You look kinda tired,” he added.
Crap, I guess I must have looked like ass. “Yeah, had trouble sleeping last night.”
“Me too,” he said, nodding sympathetically.
I sat down and pulled the tab on my soda can. “Eff it!” The nail on my index finger had broken almost clean across.
“What’s up?” he enquired, genuinely concerned.
“Just a nail. I’ve got nine more,” I answered, shaking my hand in a futile attempt to get rid of the shooting pain. Why do people even do that anyway?
He laughed. “You’re being way too cool about it! If one of my sisters breaks a nail, that’s it! It’s a national frickin emergency. They’re kinda old-school.”
I took a big gulp of soda and noticed that we had both chosen the exact same thing for lunch – burrito and rice. Weird. I was feeling unusually shy but totally wanted to hang and chat.
“You’re Puerto Rican, right?”
“First generation. Luce and Terri – my sisters – act like they’re in West Side Story. If the dude doesn’t open the car door for them, there ain’t no second date.
I frowned at the reference. “What’s West Side Story?”
He stopped chewing and stared at me. “You’re frickin kidding.”
I shook my head.
“It’s a Broadway musical. They made it into a movie in the fifties. It’s kinda big in my family.”
“Oh, okay. I’ll check it out.”
“I guess when you’re the only guy growing up in an all-female house you see a lot of musicals.”
I laughed and took a bite of my own burrito. This explained something about why I found Cruz so attractive. It wasn’t just physical – he could have been a macho jerk and he would still have been the hottest guy I’d met all school year... those eyes, those mmm... muscles – but there was something sensitive about him too, and I guess it was because he just didn’t care about being a “big deal” or acting like a tough guy. He was soft inside and it drew me to him.
“What happened to your dad?” I asked.
“Left when I was four.” He shrugged like it was no big deal. “Never came back.”
“That blows. I was four when I lost my dad.”
Cruz seemed shocked to hear this. “Oh, dude, I’m so sorry.”
“Hey – I think I’m over it. My mom’s a superstar. I’m really lucky.”
“Mine’s awesome too. But I feel bad cuz she pays a fortune to send me here and I ain’t exactly a straight-A student.”
I wanted to encourage him. “I see you in class. You work hard and that counts for a lot.”
“Thanks. I’m bummed about getting fired from the café though. At least I was helping her out.”
I took a sip of soda, an idea taking shape. “What if I paid you for the Spanish conversation?”
He looked confused. “What do you mean?”
“My mom would be totally into it and she just got a new job so she’s flush with cash right now.”
“For real? No, no, I couldn’t do that. I mean, I’m totally into doing the Spanish thing with you, but there’s no way you’re gonna pay me.”
Okay, so maybe the Latino macho pride wasn’t totally absent.
“No prob,” I said and took another bite. I swallowed my mouthful and was about to speak when another tray appeared beside mine at the four-seat table. I looked up, surprised. It was Aranara.
“Hey guys!” she said, flashing a big, toothy smile at Cruz and taking the seat next to mine.
He smiled back at her. I felt a surge of jealousy and wanted to either leave the table or slap her. She put her hand on his forearm and kinda stroked it as she spoke to him, looking at him wistfully.
“I was thinking about you the other day.”
His eyes widened. “For real?”
“Yeah – I was watching West Side Story and one of the actors totally reminded me of you.”
You’ve got to be kidding, I thought.
“For real?” he said again, suddenly absorbed by her. She still hadn’t let go of his arm.
“I was imagining you in one of those tight white tee shirts, singing in the streets with the Sharks. Or the Jets – I get confused.”
I had to do something.
“I prefer the Broadway musical,” I said nonchalantly. Why did I lie? Why???!
Cruz switched his attention to me. “I thought you...”
Luckily he was interrupted by Noon clattering a tray onto the table beside him. Aranara withdrew her hand, the shine gone from her smile.
“Hi,” said Noon.
“Hey!” I answered. “What are you up to?”
He sat down and looked at me like I was speaking Chinese. “I’m having lunch.”
Right. Retard.
Aranara glanced sideways at me, then at Noon. Wheels were turning in her head.
“So, you were saying, Kari?”
She blinked at me innocently and I was caught like a deer in the headlights. No, like a deer that has just told a big fat lie to impress a boy and is sitting in an interrogation room under one of those blinding spotlights they use on prisoners to make them spill the beans.
“Um...” was all that came out until Noon mercifully intervened.
“Up late studying, Kari?” he said. “You look exhausted.”
I’d been so distracted by Cruz that I had totally forgotten about what I’d seen through the grille in the tunnel. Had Noon recognized me? I started to sweat. There was a silence that seemed to last forever.
“I, uh...”
Then I realized that it was easier to say something truthful than dig myself in deeper with another half-lie.
“I lost my cat yesterday.”
“And you went looking for it?” asked Noon.
Damn, this was getting worse, like a noose tightening around my neck. Cruz was only half-listening, and part of me felt disappointment that he wasn’t showing any sympathy toward me for losing Flash. I followed his eye-line without really meaning to, and realized that he was fixated on Aranara’s voluptuous chest. She leaned back in her chair and stretched, groaning. Cruz’s eyes widened again, even more this time.
“Aaaahhh,” she breathed out, shifting in her seat. “I had a late night too.”
I looked at Noon. He was frowning. No, wait – he was concentrating – with his hands together in front of him on the table, not eating or even acknowledging the food on his plate. He was staring at me with those piercing eyes, yet somehow focused beyond them, like he could see into the very core of my being.
A loaded silence had fallen over the four of us at the table. I was lost in Noon’s eyes, he was lost somewhere else. Aranara was like a cat basking in the glow from a fireplace, and Cruz was the fire. But while my stomach began to dissolve in its own acid, a voice in my head nagged at me:
“They... they know each other. Noon and Aranara know each other. They never even said hi when he arrived at the table, never even looked at one another. Something has gone on between them in the past.”
In my peripheral vision I noticed something else that disturbed me: after clasping her hands together over her head while she was stretching, Aranara had kept them locked together and was resting them on the table in front of her untouched tray while she made eyes at Cruz. She was like a mirror image of Noon.
Suddenly Noon broke off eye contact with me and asked Cruz softly but
somehow insistently, “Have you been to the football tryouts?”
Cruz snapped out of Aranara’s aura and shook his head slightly. “Yeah... no,” he stammered. “I’m going to this afternoon’s session.”
Then Noon switched his attention to me. “Would you like to come watch the try-out with me?”
At least, I think he said that. I couldn’t swear that his lips even moved, but I heard the question, and before I could think about my schedule after lunch I found myself nodding enthusiastically, “Oh yeah, I’d love to!” What had come over me? Football was practically the last thing I was interested in.
Cruz looked at me for the first time since Aranara’s arrival. “Cool!” he said, and I could feel her tense up next to me, her frustration palpable. Cruz asked her, “Can you make it too?”
“No. I... have something,” she answered through gritted teeth.
A flicker of a smile played over Noon’s lips. He had this incredible calmness that acted like a gravitational field on me. He was so different from Cruz, but just as hard to resist.
This entire lunch scene had been a crazy-ass roller-coaster of emotions for me. Maybe even for Cruz too, because he pushed back his chair and wiped what I think were sweaty palms on his jeans. “Alright, gotta run, do some stuff before Math,” he announced.
I had to get out of there too. “Yeah, it’s been a slice,” I said as I stood up with my tray.
Cruz hurried out of the fast-emptying cafeteria. I tipped my leftovers into the garbage and put the tray on top of the pile. Before heading out I looked back and saw Noon and Aranara at the table, staring at their untouched food. Each still with clasped hands. It was freaky. Almost like they were praying. Then I remembered – I needed to confront Noon about the Temple of Truth. As that thought formulated he unclasped his hands and looked up, straight at me. The jolt I felt was like a mental taser. The blood rushed to my cheeks and I turned swiftly away.
I wandered out of the cafeteria in a bit of a daze. I should have been excited about the prospect of watching Cruz at the tryout, but suddenly all I could think about was Noon – his searching gaze, his intelligent mouth, and his hypnotic presence. How did all this happen so quickly? In fact, what was really happening?