I was so euphoric, I wanted to talk to someone, but that was impossible. Usually, I would call Brielle. We’d spend hours going over every detail of all things male. But whatever was happening between James and me, I held like a treasured secret box I alone had the key to.
I was relieved that Dad’s car was gone when I pulled into the driveway. Stacey and Dad always drove his Lexus when they went out. They were out, and that meant I wouldn’t have to talk to anybody about anything.
Camilla had left me a note on the butcher block saying that my dinner was in the refrigerator. I was too excited to eat, my stomach a jumble of giddy butterflies. I wanted to call him, to talk on the phone with him.
That was irrational. I’d moved into a league that required patience and timing. Nothing would turn him off faster than an overanxious girlie. Where allowing those feelings in my heart would only torment me, not acting on them would ensure things between James and I blossomed at a natural pace.
I fell onto my bed so ready to fly I wondered how I would ever come down from the euphoria. I wanted to see him again, my appetite whet by our tryst at Starbucks, but not satiated. I reached over to my bedside table for my iPod. I filled my head with his music, closed my eyes and pictured the way he had looked across the table, his smooth skin glowing under the soft burnished light, his eyes sparkling one minute, darkening with something that sent a soft ribbon of heat through me the next.
Thoughts of tomorrow danced in my mind, playing out an outrageous fantasy, one with me hugging him as the whole choir looked on. Of him kissing me, throwing silence into the air with the act. Though our relationship had to be kept under wraps, that didn’t stop me from enjoying the fantasy of everyone knowing. But exposing us would never happen. He loved his job, it was his life. That was okay. I just wanted to be a part of his life too.
I stared at my phone, so anxious to call and talk to him, I felt like I was filled with a million bees all buzzing for a way out. But then, I didn’t know his phone number.
Matt and I had spent hours on the phone talking about nothing. I couldn’t imagine wasting even a moment with James. There was so much about him I wanted to know.
Since I couldn’t satisfy my urge to talk to him, I ran our conversation at Starbucks over and over in an endless hot pink loop. He’d asked me questions. It seemed impossible, but I’d seen interest in his eyes.
He’d looked at my mouth.
I closed my eyes and imagined kissing him.
I let out a groan. That would never happen. He seemed too wary of just a friendship. I hated that I couldn’t have something – someone I wanted right now. I told myself that I couldn’t look at him like any other guy. I couldn’t think about him like one either or I’d be stalking him before I took my next breath. This was not going to be some fast and easy hook up. I couldn’t just call him because I wanted someone to be with, like I had with Matt.
Am I ready to wait? I’d had Matt at my fingertips for so long, snapping my fingers and not having access to a guy would be like sitting at Starbucks, smelling the coffee and not being able to drink anything.
James’ face came to my mind then, and the calm assurance I felt whenever I was in his presence. I was ready for someone that could show me something more than another requisite party—a quick buzz, a tasty drink.
Someone I could be content just to smell the coffee with.
I heard raised voices the next morning and looked at my clock. Six-thirty. Dad should have been gone already.
Stacey’s voice shrilled through the air like an angry opera singer. I threw back my covers and got ready for school. Snippets of conversation pierced the walls, jabbed under my closed door.
“That’s it. I’m serious, Stacey! ”
“So am I! ”
A door slammed. Dad’s heavy footsteps came down the hall. I froze on the off-chance fear that he might storm into my room and yell at me for no reason except that the two of them had had an argument.
His footsteps eventually vanished. My heart slowed.
I finished getting dressed in a pair of snug jeans and a bruised purple sweater that everyone told me made my eyes super blue. After dusting on some blush and brushing my hair, I was ready to go, more anxious than ever to get out of there.
Their arguments usually didn’t bother me, and the words never stayed in my head. But today, as I walked to school, the fierce anger I’d heard in both of their voices echoed in my mind. I couldn’t help but think about my feelings for James. I could never yell at him like that. I could never see him raising his voice at anyone. It seemed sick that arguing became a natural progression for most relationships that had years behind them.
My friends and I rarely discussed our parents but I knew most of them had overheard fights. Half of their parents were divorced or single. Some were into their second marriages like Dad.
Part of my heart ached for Dad. The part I held in reserve, a corner that waited for his return. I pushed the ache away as I walked onto campus rationalizing that he’d made his bed, slept in it and if the sheets and blankets weren’t doing the job anymore that was his problem. It would be easy to forget Dad and his entanglements in Concert Choir.
I walked down the hall with last night’s secret meeting tucked like a candle deep in my heart. The flickering warmth gave me a smile that wouldn’t leave my face.
Handel’s Watermusic was playing when I walked into the music room. Leesa was there, talking to him. The two of them stood at the piano. James leaned against it, while she jittered in front of him like a pup waiting for a treat.
I paused in the door.
“I can do it,” she said, smiling that sunny-Leesa smile.
“Oh… well… thank you.”
Leesa then looked at the stack of sheet music next to his hand on the piano. She picked it up with a coy dip of her head and started setting the sheets on the empty seats.
A flash of jealousy shot through me. I took a step inside the door and the movement caught James’ eye. A smile broke on his face, but was quickly replaced a more guarded expression.
“Hey, Eden.”
“Hey.” I went to my seat and put down my books and bag.
“Hi, Eden,” Leesa piped. “I offered to pass these out for you.”
I bet you did. I smiled. “Oh. Cool. That’s nice of you, Leesa.”
James scratched his jaw with a nervous smile. Suddenly the classroom felt too warm. I couldn’t believe how peeved I was at Leesa. At James for letting her take my job.
I sat, crossed my legs and got out some homework I’d finished two days ago. Out the corner of my eye, James watched at me for a moment before turning and doing something at the piano. What did he expect? For me to bat my lashes at him? Blush? I was annoyed at what had happened with Leesa, but I meant to show him that I’d never give us away. Never.
The class filled with chattering students. The bell rang.
I kept my face down, my eyes on my assignment, even though I wasn’t actually reading any of it. When the music clicked off, everyone quieted.
“Okay, hey, everybody.” The tuneful sound of his voice urged my gaze to his and I softened like butter under the sun. Looking at him now, the light glow of his countenance, his smile, I couldn’t believe I had been upset by something so stupid.
Yet when I glanced at Leesa, the unmistakable gleam in her face told me that she, too, had it for James. As he spoke about the piece of music he had chosen for us to sing, I casually checked out the other girls in class, trying to gauge their interest. All of them stared at him with lively curiosity. Most of the guys on the other hand listened as if half bored.
“So, does that sound like a compromise?” he was asking when I finally tuned back in. There was general agreement. I wondered what we were all agreeing to.
“I think those songs suck,” Josh mumbled.
“You think all songs suck,” Leesa tossed over her shoulder. I’d never heard her talk back to anyone above her social station before. I didn’t know she had it in
her.
Her comment flashed red across Josh’s face. He sat up, stared at the back of her nearly-bald head and made a face.
My frustration at Leesa dissolved when Josh mocked Leesa.
A pang of pity rang through my heart.
James continued, “We’ll be singing two songs for the spring concert. I’ve passed out Summer Moon first. We’ll work on My Heart Will Go On tomorrow.”
My Heart Will Go On? He seemed to have been waiting for my reaction. His gaze held mine for a millisecond that felt like a hot hour, then he reached for his music stand and placed it aside before he crossed to the piano.
He played Summer Moon all the way through for us, explaining our various parts and then we started to sing.
He conducted from the piano, pounding out the alto, bass, tenor and soprano parts with his usual enthusiasm. Hearing him play something contemporary was exciting. All I’d ever heard him play was classical. His body moved as if he was holding himself in check—like at any moment he could break out in the most perfect dance moves ever. I grinned, imagining him dancing—with me.
He looked hot.
The class enjoyed the change of tempo that was obvious. Everyone jittered, swayed, moved and clapped.
When the hour was over, the pop of disappointment deflated everyone as if a helium balloon had just burst. No one wanted to leave. Singing had been fun. Begrudgingly, everybody vacated the room. I noticed Leesa immediately started to pick up all of the music. That left me with no reason to stay.
James followed my stare at Leesa as I walked down the risers to the floor.
“You think they liked the song?” he asked me.
He was looking right at me, but Leesa piped from the back row of chairs anyway, “They liked it a ton, couldn’t you tell?”
“It was a lot of fun to sing,” I said and headed for the door. Competing for James’ attention felt like I was back in junior high school again. My first reaction was that I refused to do it. I don’t know what I expected. I had the brief, fantastic vision flash through my head of him walking over and stopping my exit. Of him kissing me there in the door before I left, telling me that Leesa didn’t matter, that I was all that mattered. Boys never did stuff like that. Did men?
I walked out of the room cowering behind foolishness and let out a sigh.
Rustling behind me caused me to glance over my shoulder. My hope that even part of my fantasy would come to life was dashed the minute I saw Leesa’s smiling face and wispy head.
She fell into step with me. “Hey, Eden.”
“Hi.”
“I like our new songs, don’t you?”
“Yeah.”
“Isn’t he the coolest?”
“Yeah, he is.”
She squeezed her books to her chest. “And so hot. I can’t take my eyes off him.”
“Have a crush do we?” I asked.
“He’s gorgeous.”
“He probably has a girlfriend, Leesa.”
She shrugged. “I can dream, can’t I?”
I didn’t even want her dreaming. Common sense told me James wouldn’t be interested in Leesa as anything more than a student. Still, I had just extended my feelings to him—in a small, protected way—so I was insecure about us. There is no us, you retard. You’re getting way ahead of yourself. I lifted my chin and navigated my way through the bodies coming toward us down the hall. Not surprisingly, Leesa trailed at my elbow.
“You going to your locker?” she asked.
Just because she’d said more than two words to me about James did not mean that I was open to a full discussion. I shook my head. “No. Gotta run. See you later, Leesa.” Without looking at her again, I went on my way.
“See ya,” she called.
The rest of the day hovered like the thick, wet fog that had crept in that morning. I couldn’t stop feeling jealous. I scanned the halls between classes, as if I might see him. But I’d never seen him walking down the halls. I wasn’t sure he even left his room until school was over.
When lunch came, I waited for Brielle at her car, but she never showed. Something clawed in my stomach. I hadn’t heard from her for a few days, and my disassociation from Matt left me out of the loop.
I walked to the plaza to check things out.
Josh, Tanner, Matt and Brielle sat at our table, laughing and talking, the hole that my absence made apparently not significant enough for anyone to notice or care about. A few other students occupied the half-dozen other tables, and the scent of bread and coffee hung in the foggy air. I almost didn’t go over, but that would have seemed like I cared more than I should, so I did. A smile plastered on my face. “Hey.”
They looked up at me with surprise, their laughter dying.
I sat in the empty chair as if nothing was wrong, ignoring the prickly silence. “Bree, what’s up?”
“Uh… nothing.”
“Didn’t look like that when I walked over. Come on, we’re not going to be all weird because you and Matt have hooked up, are we? You have hooked up, haven’t you?”
Matt’s brown eyes narrowed. “Why do you care?”
“She’s my friend. I don’t want you hurting her because you’re on the rebound from me.”
“News flash, Eden, you weren’t worth a rebound.”
I stared at him. Cold fog drifted behind Matt, nearly veiling the plaza. A chill raced through me. “Just weeks ago you were at my door, begging.” I shook my head, held his gaze tight unable to keep from jabbing back. “You weren’t worth a rebound either.” I looked at Bree then. “Don’t say you weren’t warned.”
Matt shot up from his chair and stormed to me. He stood over me with fire in his eyes. “Shut up!”
I lifted a shoulder. “You were being honest. That means I can’t be? It’s a double standard with Matt, Bree. Be careful.”
Matt pulled me to my feet. The raw strength in his grip terrified me. My mouth fell open. I knew he had a temper, he’d grabbed me once before, but never in front of people.
“Let go of me!”
Before I knew it, he was dragging me away from the table. My whole body shook with fear. I’d never been handled before. I tried to stop, batting at him, but he wrapped his arms around me.
“People are watching us,” I hissed.
“Good for them.” He stopped a good forty feet away from any ears, though plenty of eyes were still watching.
His arms fell away from me. “Look, I don’t want you screwing things up because you’re getting back at me.”
“I could care less that you like Bree. Haven’t I made that clear about a hundred times now?”
“Then what are you doing here?”
“Having lunch with my friends.”
“We’re not your friends anymore. Forget it, Eden.
Nobody wants you around so screw off.” He stormed back to the table.
Stunned, I couldn’t move, wondering if I had just had some freakish nightmare. I’d hung with these kids for four years, and now they were telling me it was over?
I walked back to school feeling skinned and hollowed.
I couldn’t believe that Brielle hadn’t even tried to come after me. I couldn’t believe she’d chosen Matt over me. The water through which I now saw my reflection was painfully shallow. I didn’t want to think about the past four years and the ease with which I had leapt from stone to stone, boy to boy, kicking aside the last without care. Though I felt empty, I didn’t cry. The impossibility of what had just happened kept me in a daze.
I spun my locker dial, staring at the flesh-colored paint covering the metal closet. A hideous color. I wondered who’d been so color blind to have chosen it. Graffiti and scratches looked like scars etched into skin.
“You okay?”
To my left, Leesa glanced at me from her open locker. I hadn’t even heard or seen her.
“Yeah.”
“You look sad.”
With her I was happy or sad. So basic. There was something to living your life that simply. “
It’s nothing.” I shut my locker.
“Oh. Okay.” Leesa waited, her worried gaze on me. I felt a gush of need to talk to her, unload. Purge. She’d listen.
She’d never judge. She wasn’t like my friends. I smiled at her, easing the concern in her eyes, then turned and left.
I walked toward my last period class dead inside. Not even the image of James’ face lifted my spirits. Wretched abandonment resurfaced inside of me like water ready to drown me. My knees buckled. Tears pounded for release behind my eyes.
A Season of Eden Page 12