“I’m so sorry.” I sobbed. “You were only being honest.
It was wrong of me to use that the way I did. I’m not used to the honesty. I’m sorry.”
“Shhh. It’s okay.”
I didn’t dare think he meant it was really okay. I was afraid to look into his face, to validate his words. I stayed locked onto him. When his hands went to my shoulders and he tried to ease me back, I forced myself to let go, knowing how it would look if I held on.
He kept his hands on my shoulders. I still couldn’t look up at him.
“I’m sorry too,” he said.
I let out a sigh then dared to lift my eyes to his. For the first time since I’d hurt him, I saw a break in the tight, soberness on his face. I wondered what that meant.
“Can you forgive me?” I asked.
He paused, holding my gaze for a painfully long time.
His hands fell away from my shoulders. “Of course I can forgive. I’m just not sure I can pick up where we left off.”
My heart hollowed. “You… you really don’t think so?”
“Maybe after school. Eden, I think this… our relationship… complicates things for us both.”
After school? I wanted to think he was joking, or that he meant at three o’clock when the school day was done. But I knew what he meant.
“I’m not sure what good it would do either of us to keep seeing each other, the whole secretive thing…”
“It would do me a lot of good.” I tried a laugh to lighten the air. “And you look relieved too, I can see it.”
His lips curved up a little. He dragged a hand through his hair. “I was sleepwalking last night.”
“You were?”
“I told you, I sleepwalk when I’m stressed.”
“I feel terrible. I’m sorry. I really am.”
He moved to the piano and aimlessly stacked an already neat stack of sheet music. “It’s no biggie.”
“When did you wake up? Where were you? I hope you weren’t in any danger.”
“No. I was in the garage.”
“The garage?”
He let out a laugh. “I guess I thought I was going somewhere.” I wanted to think his subconscious mind had been driven to see me, but I didn’t dare say that.
We heard rustling on the other side of the door. Then the door moved, as if someone was trying to open it. His eyes flashed to the large clock on the wall.
I wiped under my eyes. “Do I look okay?” I asked, afraid mascara might have tracked down my cheeks.
When he stole an extra moment to look at me, and I saw glints of admiration light his eyes, like I’d seen before.
I felt better than I had in hours. He nodded. “You look beautiful.”
I bit my lower lip and smiled. “Thanks.”
“Can you pass out the sheet music for me? Please.” He nodded toward the office as he headed to unlock the door.
“Sure.”
Brielle and I sat alone at our table in front of Fiasco’s.
Behind the safety of her black glasses, Brielle kept an eye out for Matt, even though we both knew he wouldn’t show up.
I sipped my Diet Coke. I wore sunglasses, too, but I wasn’t looking for anyone.
I had to step back, give James the time and space he needed. Amazingly enough, the distance didn’t hurt as much as I thought it would. Maybe because I knew it was only temporary. The longer I thought on something I wanted and the further away it seemed, the more I wanted it. I hoped that James felt the same way.
“I saw him, did I tell you?” Brielle said.
About four times, but I smiled. “Did you?”
She nodded. “He passed right by me in the hall without even looking at me. And he knew I was there, I know it.”
“Maybe you should make yourself scarce for a while.”
“I can’t help that we walk by each other between classes. And we have Econ together.”
“You could walk another way.”
“But he sits in front of me in class, one row over.”
“See if you can sit in front of him. Let him look at you for a while.”
“You think?” The hope in her voice made me sigh. I doubted anything would bring Matt back; he’d never been hers to begin with. She just didn’t know that.
“Two months,” I said, thinking of James, of June and graduation, “and we’re out of here.”
“I’m kind of sad.”
I kept my straw between my teeth. “Think of everything out there waiting for us.”
Her glasses couldn’t disguise the longing in her scan.
She wouldn’t want to do anything, go anywhere, as long as she kept looking for Matt.
“You coming to the final concert?” I asked.
“Yeah, planning on it. I was hoping to ask Matt if he wanted to come along, but…”
“Dad’s coming, did I tell you?”
She looked at me. “Really? Eden, that’s great.”
“Yeah.”
Brielle sat back and shook her head with a grin.
“What?” I asked.
“You always get what you want.”
“Yeah. I do.
Chapter Twenty-three
James said we could wear any dress we wanted for the concert, as long as it was in spring colors. He instructed the boys to wear pastel shirts. Most of the guys moaned, but the night of the show, they all came looking like Easter eggs.
James warmed us up in the music room, smashing the choral groups together in a sweaty, but nevertheless fun variety of scales. He wore his soft yellow button down shirt, khaki slacks and a pastel plaid tie. I didn’t know they made ties in plaid. I couldn’t believe he had a new jacket. The soft fawn shade flattered the glow of his skin, accentuating the halo of his toffee curls.
I wanted him more than ever.
“Everybody,” he quieted us after the warm ups. “This is our last concert for the year. Let’s sing it with all we’ve got.” He let out a sigh and lowered his head for a moment.
The quiet emotion silenced everyone. “It’s been a great semester.” He looked into our faces. “You guys are a good group of kids, and I want you to know this has been a dream for me, teaching you.”
“You going somewhere?” somebody asked.
“No, but a lot of my seniors are. I want everybody to know how much I appreciate your support. It’s not easy adjusting to someone new. Thanks.”
Some of the boys started to clap and soon the room rocked with applause. I glanced at Leesa. She was, as always, in the front row—beaming.
James’ full-room scan finally fell on me and his eyes held mine for a second before he continued smiling at everyone else. The moment seemed to string us together over the raucous noise and busy bodies all herding out the door, readying for the concert.
Mrs. Christian was back as our pianist. She looked like an elegant Madame in her long peach dress and single strand of pearls, her dark hair back in a conservative knot.
When I walked by her, she smiled. “Hello, Eden.”
“Mrs. Christian. I didn’t think you’d remember me.”
“How could I forget such a lovely young woman?” She patted my arm.
Concert Choir was supposed to sing first and after I’d taken my place on stage, I strained to see Dad in the audience. With lights blinding me, I couldn’t, but knowing he was there lit me from the inside.
James held his baton up and gave us that special smile he kept in reserve for performance. Then Mrs. Christian started playing the sweet, romantic melody of My Heart Will Go On.
The words tugged my heart. I thought it ironic, the song, the movie, the way that Rose and Jack had fallen for each other even with the obvious differences that seemed insurmountable. Their story reminded me of James and me.
As I continued to sing, occasionally James’ gaze would light on me and hold. My heart fluttered. For that moment, no matter how brief, I was sure that his eyes were clear and free of the pain I’d brought us both. I hoped that when he saw me,
he remembered his first feelings for me and not what had come between us.
After we sung, the audience gave us a standing ovation.
I saw Dad then, the spotlight skimmed his tall frame about six rows back. He beamed.
Concert Choir filed off the risers and waited in the music room with the other groups waiting to be called on stage. With a few weeks left of school, most kids felt free to drop the social boundaries that usually separated us.
That included me. I joined a group of kids playing cards, coming face-to-face with some I hadn’t said more than ‘hey’ to.
Leesa hovered. There was something she wasn’t telling me. I knew she wanted me to ask her about it. I figured it had something to do with James and flowers, and I’d already taken care of that so I didn’t care what she’d done.
When she couldn’t hold it in any longer, she followed me into the bathroom. I stood at the mirror, patting powder on my chin. “You look excited,” I finally said.
“I am,” she gushed. “I got Mr. Christian a Michael Bublé CD to go with yellow roses.”
“That will be nice.”
“His mother told me yellow was his favorite color.”
“Yeah? You talked to his mother?”
Her head bobbed like a dashboard toy. “I called her.”
“Wow. That was… brave.”
“I know. I called one hundred and twenty six different Christians in the book before I got the right one. And guess what?” She leaned close, her voice dropped to a whisper, “I know where he lives.”
“Seriously?”
She bubbled. “In the Rivera. He lives with his mom, isn’t that cute?”
“Uh… why is that cute?”
“Men that like their mothers are the kind you want to marry, at least that’s what my mom always says.”
Knowing first hand the kindness between James and his mother, I couldn’t disagree. I smiled. “Getting a little ahead of yourself, aren’t you?”
She shrugged, eyes gleaming. “Might as well dream big.”
I’d always dreamed big. And my dreams usually came true. I snapped my compact shut and stuck it back in my purse. “Show’s almost over. Better go get your roses.”
Each choir gave James something different. By the end of the show, his arms were laden with bouquets and brightly wrapped gifts. The way he grinned, the soft glow illuminating from his skin, I could see that he was pleased.
I stood out in the reception area with the rest of the choirs, mingling with parents and friends. Brielle made her way through the laughing, talking crowd. She handed me a pink rose and hugged me.
“You guys were great!”
“Thanks.” I eased back and sniffed the rose. “How sweet of you. Seriously. You didn’t have to do that.”
Brielle shrugged. “You deserve it.” She wrapped around me again, with a longer hug this time. “Thanks for being there for me.”
“Aw.” I patted her back, touched by her display of friendship. “Anytime, baby.”
“I gotta run. See you tomorrow?” She backed into the crowd.
“Yeah, okay. See ya.” I sniffed the rose again.
I looked for Dad. We found each other in the outdoor common area next to the auditorium. He smiled. I hadn’t seen him look so happy in a long time.
“You did great, honey.” He hugged me.
“Did you like it?”
“It was great, really was. And that’s one of my favorite songs, that Titanic song. What’s it called?”
“One of your favorite songs and you don’t know the name of it? Dad.”
“Stacey kept track of those things.”
Did he have to bring her up? I ignored the comment and forgave him, knowing how hard it was to get somebody out of your head. I almost told him it was time to start keeping track on his own, but stopped myself.
Then I saw James.
He stood surrounded. Graciously, he greeted myriads of parents. I watched as casually as I could, awed that he took the compliments, the incessant gabbing from both students and parents with the sure confidence of a man.
Not a boy.
But then he was a man.
Dad must have followed my nonchalant stare, because he said, “Your singing teacher seems like a talented guy.”
“He is,” I said. “Um, will you excuse me a minute? I have to congratulate him.”
“Sure, sure. Do you want me to wait so I can drive you home?”
“No thanks. I’ll catch a ride.” He’d hate for me to walk, so I didn’t tell him.
Dad brought me in for a side hug. “You know your mom loved to sing. Do you remember?”
I didn’t, and was pleased to know. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. See you at home, honey.” He kissed the top of my head then he went on his way.
I dug into my purse for the large jewelry box and held it behind my back. Then I waited outside the boisterous circle that surrounded him. Finally, there was a break and he was left alone. He looked at me.
“Eden.”
“Hey. It went so great tonight. Everyone sounded good—even us.”
His eyes sparkled. “You guys sounded the best ever tonight.”
“You told us to sing our best and we did.”
He nodded. I saw his mother come up behind him.
Where she had been in the interim I wasn’t sure, but she smiled, nodded at me and touched James’ elbow. “I’ll be in the car, James.” Then she was gone.
Some students were still in the music room and their laughter filtered out into the hall.
“I have something for you.” I held out the box.
His eyes widened. He tried to balance the various bouquets, Leesa’s CD, and other gifts in his hands so that he could take it. We both laughed.
“You didn’t have to give me something, Eden.” He opened it. His brows knit tight across his face in confusion.
I could tell he was trying not to laugh. So was I. He lifted the two large black cat collars, crusted with silver bells, from the box.
“What in the—?”
“For when you sleep.” I grinned. “Just slip those on your ankles at night. You make a move to get out of bed, and—dingalingaling—they’ll wake you up.”
He let out a hearty laugh, the infectious sound filled the empty hall and echoed through my heart. “That’s… that is so funny.” He leaned over and kissed my cheek without realizing it. After, he glanced around. I did too. Empty hall.
Both of us broke into another smile.
“Eden, that’s really…” His smile settled and the green in his eyes flickered. “That’s sweet.”
“I don’t know how practical it is, but you can’t be out walking around when you’re unconscious. It’s dangerous.”
He studied the collars with a smirk. “I will definitely give these things a try.”
“You got quite a haul there.” I nodded at the bounty in his arms.
“Yeah.”
We started toward the music room together. He seemed to be walking as slow as me. “Leesa was so excited about the CD.”
“I could tell. Mom told me she called.”
“Watch out,” I laughed. “She’s on your trail.”
He cringed, but he wore a smile. We stopped at the door of the music room. Some of the kids from Renaissance were still partying. I didn’t go in. “Well, congratulations again.” I backed in the direction of the parking lot.
He stood outside the door of the music room, watching me. “Bye, Eden.”
Chapter Twenty-four
The weeks I went back to being just another student in James’ class were the hardest of my life. Nothing could take away what had happened between us. His whispered words floated in the air every time I looked at him—every time he looked at me. Fragments drifted in my mind of the feel of his body next to me, of how comforted I felt wrapped in his elbow-patched coat. The way he’d opened himself when he’d kissed me.
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