Eternity (v5)

by Heather Terrell

  He started down the hal way toward his own class, but then turned back suddenly with a devilish grin. “Actu-al y, you’re Ellspeth Faneuil, aren’t you?” With a wave, he walked away.

  Chapter Five

  To my surprise, Michael sought me out each day that week. I’d step out of class, and he’d be waiting nearby. I’d pop out of lunch and head to my locker, and he’d be strol ing alongside me down the hal way. His constant attendance never seemed weird. In fact, his easy manner and our effortless conversations—mostly about classes—made it feel real y natural. By Friday afternoon, my reserve about him had chipped away.

  Just before two o’clock, I stood in the back of gym, waiting for Ruth to join me before I sat down for the principal’s first assembly of the school year. The space was crowded with bleachers and chairs, instead of the usual sports equipment. Students were beginning to pour in.

  I spied Missy and her usual entourage approaching my spot, and I just didn’t want to interact with them. So I slid away into a darkened corner next to the bleachers. From there, I could stil see the doors to the gym and catch Ruth’s attention when she arrived, but didn’t have to deal with any of Missy’s annoying, ongoing efforts at friendship.

  As I watched the clock tick closer to two and the seats fil , I wondered where Ruth was. Ever punctual and organized, it wasn’t like her to be late.

  Not to something like this. I didn’t dare take one of the few remaining chairs without her; she’d be furious at having to sit alone.

  Ruth. Just thinking about her reminded me that I hadn’t mentioned Michael. Our somewhat conflicting schedules meant that she hadn’t seen me with him. And I hadn’t felt like tel ing her about our conversations yet. I just didn’t want to bump up against that overprotectiveness of hers when I wasn’t even sure that there was anything between Michael and me for Ruth to protect.

  The clock hit two, and the principal strode across the stage. Craning my neck, I scanned the room to be certain that I hadn’t missed Ruth. The gym was packed with students, but no Ruth. I settled back into my little nook and waited. I would give her one more minute before I snagged one of the few open seats nearby. At this point, she’d have to understand.

  Without warning, I felt a presence in my dark alcove. I hadn’t seen anyone approach my little corner, so I was confused by the sensation. I looked around. But there was no one standing to my left or right.

  Then I felt a hand on the smal of my back. The light pressure sent chil s up my spine, and my heart started racing. I did not need to turn around to see who it was. Somehow I knew it was Michael behind me.

  Removing his hand away from my back, he inched closer. “Is this spot taken?” he whispered, as he sidled up next to me.

  We’d never been so close to each other. I felt like I could hardly breathe, let alone answer. Where had this strong, physical attraction to him come from? Over the past few days, I’d grown to real y like him, but I hadn’t experienced anything like this with him. Or anyone else, for that matter.

  “No,” I final y managed, with a gulp.

  “Good. Maybe I’l just stay here with you instead of sitting down, if that’s okay. That way, we can scoot out early.”

  “Sure,” I answered with what I prayed was a calm voice. Even though I felt anything but calm.

  The lights dimmed, making our dark alcove even darker. The principal began to rustle some papers on the podium. He tapped the microphone, which let out an ear-piercing shriek. Michael and I turned to each other, covered our ears, and laughed. Then we stood next to each other in companionable silence while the principal started his speech.

  I heard Principal Robbins greet the incoming class of juniors and welcome back the seniors, but I wasn’t real y listening. I heard the crowd laugh politely at some lame joke the principal told, and I smiled along with them as if I were paying attention. But al I could hear and see and feel was Michael.

  Principal Robbins introduced the vice principal, and quiet fel over the crowd while he walked across the stage to the podium. In that brief silence, Michael leaned toward me. I could feel his warm breath on my cheek, and I wondered what he was going to do or say.

  He nudged me in the direction of the gym doors and said, “I think someone’s looking for you.”

  I looked over. In the darkness of the gym, a person stood silhouetted against the bright light streaming in from the opened doors. It was Ruth.

  More than anything in the world, I wanted to stay alone in that alcove with Michael. But I knew I couldn’t. I had to signal to my friend.

  Before I motioned for Ruth’s attention, I turned back to thank Michael for pointing her out. But he was already leaving.

  As he walked away, I thought I heard him say, “Maybe I’l see you this weekend.”

  Chapter Six

  The weekend that fol owed was long and fil ed with misgivings. Michael never reached out to “see me” like I thought he had said. So I had way too much time on my hands to stare at my neglected cel phone and think about him.

  I couldn’t help but wonder why Michael had been so persistent in seeking me out over the preceding week. Not that he’d declared a specific interest or anything, but he clearly went out of his way to see me during the school days—for friendship or more I couldn’t quite tel . Could it real y be that we had connected on that Guatemala trip? And why me? He seemed to have made other friends in the short time he’d been in Til inghast, the sort of guys who hung out with the most popular girls and ignored the rest of us. I couldn’t help but feel like Michael would start ignoring me, too, one day.

  By Monday morning, I had my guard back up. So when I stepped out of English and spotted him talking to a group of jocks instead of waiting alone for me, it seemed that my fears were confirmed. Fears that he’d given up on our tenuous relationship, fears that he hadn’t been genuinely interested from the start. I let my hair hang in front of my face, and walked in the opposite direction to avoid passing him. Even though it was the wrong way to my next class.

  Darting down the hal way as quickly as I dared, I heard my name being cal ed out.

  “El ie.”

  I knew it was Michael’s voice, but I was so embarrassed that he might have caught my glance and my hasty exit that I kept moving.

  “El ie.” His voice was getting louder, and I could hear his footsteps approach. But I kept pretending I couldn’t hear him.

  Michael reached my side, and reached out for my arm. It tingled where he touched it. “El speth,” he whispered, and his breath sent shivers up my spine. The long, disappointing weekend had done nothing to change his physical effect on me.

  I stopped walking and turned to look at him. He seemed upset.

  “I know you saw me. Why did you walk away?”

  “You seemed”—I reached for an explanation—“busy. I didn’t want to interrupt.”

  “You should know that I’m not interested in them. I’m interested in you.”

  “Real y?”

  “Real y.”

  Our eyes locked for a brief second, when I realized that Piper and Missy were walking nearby. And watching our every move.

  Michael must have realized it too, because he broke my gaze and changed the subject.

  “Sorry I didn’t get a chance to cal you this weekend. Did you have a good one?” he asked as we started walking down the hal again.

  “Yeah, I guess so.” I desperately wanted to ask what kept him from cal ing, but I didn’t want him to think I’d fixated on his parting words from Friday.

  “How’d you like the movie on Saturday?”

  “You were at the Odeon?” I was shocked. No self-respecting Til inghast upper-class guy would be caught dead at the Odeon, which only showed foreign movies and independent films. From what I remember, the theater was almost empty.

  At the mere mention of the Odeon, Piper and Missy giggled and walked away. In that split second, they clearly decided that Michael—no matter how cute and how senior—wasn’t worth their attention. He h
ad revealed himself as an indie-movie-watching geek. I was relieved.

  Michael answered as if total y unaware of, or even better, uninterested in, the judgment just passed by Missy and crew. “I came in late by myself.

  You and your friend looked like you were having so much fun that I didn’t want to interrupt you guys.”

  “You were there by yourself?” I blurted out and then my cheeks flushed. Of course I wanted to know if he’d brought a date, but why did I have to be so obvious?

  He smiled. “Yeah, I was. That’s probably not very cool, is it? To go to the movies on a Saturday night without any friends?” But he didn’t seem the least embarrassed. In fact, his ability to do whatever he wanted without worrying about the social consequences was one of the things I liked most about him.

  If possible, I got even redder. I hadn’t meant to insult him, but at least he didn’t grasp the real reason I’d asked the question. Or at least he had the decency to pretend that he didn’t.

  Michael continued, “I’ve lived in enough places that I’ve learned not to care what is cool. I’ve learned to suit myself. And anyway, Til inghast is a smal place. It helps to get out of it for a while, even if it’s just at the movies. If that makes any sense at al .”

  “It does.” He made it sound acceptable, rather than strange, to spend a Saturday night at the Odeon. And I real y did get what he said. Having spent so much time in other cultures, I shared his compulsion to escape from the confines of Til inghast into other worlds.

  He changed the subject back to the movie, a French film. Before long, we were back on track and engrossed in a discussion over the best French movies. I favored the Three Colors Trilogy, while he advocated for La Femme Nikita with its stylized action scenes.

  We arrived at my calculus class door too quickly. For me, anyway. The embarrassing moment of departure arrived once again. But before I could say anything sil y, Michael said, “I wanted to ask you—”

  “El ie, there you are!” Ruth bounded over and landed directly between us. “You almost forgot this in my car this morning, and you ran out of English before I could hand this to you.” She stuck out a folder and handed it to me. I took the folder from her, careful not to touch her directly. Since the flashes started, I always took extra care to make sure I didn’t get any from Ruth. Late last school year, I accidental y brushed up against her arm as she was looking at Jamie, a junior guy she often described as “thick,” and I saw that she actual y had some pretty intense feelings for him. I didn’t want any more flashes from Ruth. It would make our friendship real y weird.

  I stared down at the folder Ruth had jammed into my hand and realized that it contained my calculus homework. “Oh, wow, thanks, Ruth. I can’t believe I almost left it behind.”

  Looking up, I saw that Ruth was gaping at Michael—and speechless. I realized that Ruth had leaped between Michael and me without realizing that we were talking. Why would she think that I’d be talking to him? After al , I’d made a conscious decision not to mention him to her. But based on her reaction, it was clearly a very bad decision. I definitely wished that I had brought up Michael already.

  What else could I do at that moment but introduce them and try to act normal y? “I don’t think you two have met. Ruth Hal , this is Michael Chase.

  Michael, this is Ruth.”

  “Nice to meet you, Ruth,” Michael said.

  Stil Ruth said nothing, just kept staring. You’d think she’d never seen a guy speak to her best friend before.

  Since he was getting no response from Ruth, Michael turned back to me and continued where he left off. “Anyway, El ie, I know it’s early in the week, but I wanted to ask if you were free this Saturday night. Maybe we could go to the Odeon together?”

  I shot a glance at Ruth, whose mouth had literal y dropped open. We had talked about going to see the new Odeon release ourselves, this upcoming Saturday night. “Actual y, Ruth and I had plans—”

  With a start, Ruth came out of her spel . “El ie, I forgot to tel you that I have a family party to go to on Saturday night. So you’re free, you’re total y free.”

  Family party? Ruth didn’t have any family besides her dad. That was one reason she’d gotten so close to me and my parents, and her dad had gotten so tight with my mom and dad. That, and the fact that her dad and my parents shared a near-obsession with the environment. Ruth was real y looking out for me, despite the shock at seeing me talk to Michael.

  “Great,” Michael said with a smile at Ruth. He looked at me again. “Should we meet there at six thirty?”

  I was a little surprised that he didn’t offer to pick me up, but then what did I know about going on a date? This would be my first. “Sure. I’l see you there.”

  He laughed. “Okay, but it’s only Monday. I think I’l run into you before then.”

  I blushed yet again. “Right, right.”

  Just then the bel rang. We al said a hasty farewel , and went our separate ways to class.

  Chapter Seven

  I expected Ruth to be waiting for me at the end of the day. I knew I had some explaining to do. I’d never mentioned Michael to her before, and suddenly we were going on a date. It was kind of a big deal, and Ruth only knew about it because she walked up to me at the right moment. I wasn’t sure what her reaction to the news would be, but the fact that she’d sacrificed our plans so I could go out with Michael was a good sign. I hoped.

  I saw her standing just inside the main doors, looking distracted, and tugging at some strands of her long, red hair—clearly lost in thought. Ruth was quiet as we walked out of the building toward the parking lot. We’d planned to go to the library to work on our first serious English project, and she was driving. My eco-friendly parents didn’t believe that we should own more than one car—the whole carbon footprint thing. They figured I could

  —and should—walk anywhere I needed to go in Til inghast, even in the winter. It irked them that I circumvented their wishes by driving everywhere with Ruth.

  I was quiet, too, waiting for her verdict.

  “Why didn’t you tel me about Michael?” she final y said.

  Stil unsure how to read her, I tread cautiously. “Tel you what?”

  “About your relationship with him.”

  “Relationship? We’ve only been in school for a little over a week, and Michael and I have talked a total of maybe five times. Today’s the first time that an actual date came up.”

  “Don’t be literal with me, El ie. You’ve obviously been talking to him, and you haven’t mentioned him even once. And you had plenty of opportunities; we were together al Saturday night.”

  I had my answer: Ruth was mad. As mad as the reserved Ruth got. I guessed that her anger wasn’t from jealousy of my marginal success with a guy, but because I hadn’t told her. I knew that the very thought of keeping secrets from each other was beyond her comprehension. In fact, to her, it was tantamount to betrayal. It offended her sense of loyalty.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t think there was real y much to say.”

  “I thought we told each other everything. Whether it seems inconsequential or not.”

  “Ruth, no one knows better than you that I have absolutely no experience with guys. I didn’t know if he was just being friendly because we’d both been on that grueling summer program to Guatemala a few years ago. So I didn’t real y know what to tel you—”

  “He was on one of your parents’ trips?” She paused to process that little nugget. “So that’s why he was staring at us on the first day of school. . . .”

  Ruth saw Michael that day. I was shocked that she noticed him but never mentioned him and offended that she thought the only reason he’d stare at me was familiarity. But I was in the hot seat, not Ruth, so I said, “Yeah, our parents do similar kinds of work. He recognized me in the hal way, and it was so awkward because I didn’t remember him—”

  Ruth’s anger couldn’t hold. She interrupted me. “I get it, El ie. Even though I’m stil a little mad that you
kept it from me, I’m excited for you,” she said and sounded like she real y meant it. “So, what are you going to wear on Saturday?”

  I was forgiven, and Ruth was off and running, mental y cul ing through my limited wardrobe. My parents were not big believers in amassing goods beyond the absolutely necessary. This dismayed Ruth, who was a secret student of fashion although you’d never know it from her bland school

  “uniform” of jeans, T-shirts, and sweaters. After listening to Ruth debate the merits of jeans versus skirts, I ventured a question about Michael. One I’d wanted to ask al week, but I’d hesitated to bring up to the very protective Ruth. Until now.

  “You don’t know anything about him, do you?” I asked, and there was that crimson flush on my cheeks again. “I mean, have you heard anything about Michael’s move here?”

  “Wel , sure, let’s see.” I could practical y see Ruth ticking through her internal file folders on every person in the upper school—another one of her secret hobbies. She col ected gossip, but she didn’t spread it. At least, not to anyone other than me. She claimed that she cul ed this information out of necessity rather than true interest; she said that, as we learned in The Art of War, which we read for history last year, we needed to “know our enemies.” We’d had enough unpleasantness with the popular crowd and wannabes for her taste. Again, part of her protective personality—for herself and me.

  “His family moved to Til inghast this summer. He plays footbal and is supposedly amazing. That is what the new footbal coach has been saying, anyway. Al the different groups of guys are friendly with him—the footbal players, the soccer guys, even the stoners—but he hasn’t latched on to one group. He seems to prefer his own company, by his choice, not anyone else’s. Oh, and he’s smart. Scary smart, I hear.”

  Blush notwithstanding, I plunged back in with the question I real y wanted to ask. “Has he dated anyone?”

  “No.” She laughed. “A couple of girls have crushes on him already, but I haven’t heard about him paying any particular attention to anyone.” She paused and smiled at me. “Until now.”