Play of Light

by Debra Doxer

  When they finally reached Riley and Colby, Colby yelled to him above the noise, “We might want to rethink the plan. It’s too fucking crazy here tonight.”

  Spencer didn’t reply as his eyes scanned the packed room. My heart seized up when I thought his gaze was going to land on me, but I was still obscured by Riley and Colby, and he looked right past where I stood. “I’m just gonna head home,” he told them.

  My eyes closed at the sound of his voice being so close. It was deeper and a little rougher than I remembered, but it was still the voice I once looked forward to hearing the most.

  “Don’t be lame, Spencer. Let’s all go to the Beach Club or something,” Riley said. Then she turned to look over her shoulder. Her wrinkled brow smoothed out when she spotted me. She extracted herself from Colby’s arms.

  “I thought we lost you. It’s ridiculous in here. This has to be a fire code violation or something.” She reached for my hand and pulled me beside her, which was directly across from where Spencer was standing.

  “This is Sarah,” she told Colby. I swallowed hard and turned to smile at him.

  Colby’s friendly grin was warm and welcoming. “Hey. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  I wondered what he’d heard and if Spencer had noticed me yet.

  Then Riley said, “You remember Sarah.”

  She was talking to Spencer. I turned, bracing myself as my eyes scanned up and clashed with a pair of achingly familiar brown ones. Seeing him from a distance was one thing, but having his gaze meet mine felt like a kick to the stomach. Slowly the sides of his mouth turned up and his expression softened. “Hi, Sarah.”

  My eyes widened a fraction. I’d put so much apprehension into his possible greeting, fearing he’d be angry at me or completely indifferent. But a casual hi somehow threw me.

  “Hi,” I said back, making sure to sound as blasé as he had, trying to seem calm and unaffected, which was far from the truth.

  The odd thing was, after our initial greeting, when everyone went back to their conversations, Spencer kept looking at me. Riley was polling the group to see what everyone wanted to do, and I tried to keep my attention on her, but I felt his eyes on me the entire time.

  When I dared to look in his direction, he’d avert his gaze, but not quickly enough, and a moment later, I could feel it return to me again. It was like he was as focused on me as I was on him, and I couldn’t help but wonder if I was imagining the strange vibe passing between us.

  Beside Spencer, Annabelle seemed to pick up on something too. She leaned into him, actually using her hand to turn his face away from me, and she said something in his ear.

  “So,” Riley said, placing a hand on my shoulder. “No one wants to go to another club. They’re all tired,” she complained, rolling her eyes as if they were too boring to be believed. I was still too rattled by Spencer and the subtle glare Annabelle was now aiming at me to give my full attention to her.

  In the end, Colby and Riley decided if they weren’t drinking anymore, they wanted something sweet. They made their plans, and I nodded when they included me. Then I heard them ask Spencer to join us. But Annabelle declined for the both of them and everyone else begged off too. The next thing I knew, Riley and Colby were leading me outside, away from Spencer and the unwelcome pull I still felt toward him.

  We were already at the Dairy Queen when my surroundings came back into focus. Relief that we weren’t at another club and that ice cream was imminent caught my attention. We stood in the long line while Colby asked me how it felt to be back in South Seaport. It took a moment for my scrambled brain to focus. Then I wondered how much he knew and what I should tell him. I figured Colby was just making conversation and not intentionally stepping into a mine field. By the time I thought through my answer, it was our turn, and I was saved by a teenage boy in a paper hat behind the window.

  Once we got our order, we found a battered picnic table to sit at. I had to admit, it was nice being out in the warm night air with Riley and Colby. Since the band had the next few nights off, Riley said she wanted to go to the Beach Club at some point. She told Colby to bring the guys.

  He shrugged, pushing his long hair off his face. “Annabelle’s here. So Spence probably won’t go, and Ben has to be up in Boston to help his sister move. Rick will say he’s coming, but then he won’t show or he’ll keep us waiting forever. To be honest, I don’t even want to ask him.”

  Riley licked her ice cream cone and scowled. “I’m just talking about a fun night out. I’m not trying to drag you all to a Justin Bieber concert.”

  Colby chuckled. “You scored Bieber tickets?” Then he started singing, “Baby, baby, baby,” loud enough that people turned to look at him, but he didn’t care. He kept right on going in that amazing voice he had that could even make a Justin Bieber song sound appealing.

  Cringing, Riley blocked her ears, and I couldn’t help laughing at the two of them. In fact, I felt kind of happy hanging out here and listening to their easy banter. The night had gone well, I thought. I’d seen Spencer and survived. It was nerve-racking and his reaction threw me. But if I didn’t see him again while I was in town, at least I’d gotten to hear his band play, and I got a glimpse of what his life was like now. It wasn’t enough, not even close, but it was more than I had before, and it was better than nothing.

  At least, that was what I told myself as I bit into the hard chocolate dip on my vanilla cone and watched the ice cream drip down the sides and flow over my fingers.

  Before . . .

  After valiantly saving my life on the beach that day, Spencer started walking to school with us.

  I already walked with Riley, who lived next door. Mom made my sister walk with us too, but Emma usually stayed a few paces behind, not wanting to ruin her reputation by being seen with a couple of kids. That was, until we discovered that Spencer was Riley’s second cousin, and she was supposed to wait for him at the corner. Once Emma learned this, she stuck to us like glue, waiting until Spencer came strolling down the sidewalk.

  We were all quiet watching his approach. He had on faded blue jeans and a long-sleeved navy blue shirt. Without the baseball cap on, I could see that his dark hair was thick and shiny, pushed back off his forehead and curling just over the top of his collar. He was tall and lanky with narrow hips and broad shoulders. I could practically sense Emma’s mouth watering.

  “Hey, Spence,” she called to him as if they were old friends. I’d already found out that Emma met him on Friday. He was in her last period math class, and they’d walked home together after school. Fridays were when I took my art class with Mrs. Davis. Mom picked me up and drove me, which was why I missed the monumental occasion of Meeting Spencer.

  “Hey, Emma,” Spencer said, smiling at her, revealing a row of perfect white teeth. She preened and giggled. Then his gaze shifted to us. “Morning, Riley. Hey, Sarah Smile.”

  My lips curled happily while Emma’s grin dropped like a rock. “How’d you know her nickname?” Emma asked in an accusing tone. “Only our family calls her that.”

  My cheeks grew hot with embarrassment.

  “I heard your dad use it,” Spencer replied calmly, then he turned to me. “Does it bother you if I call you that?”

  “Not at all.” I gave Emma a hard look.

  Emma was clearly annoyed at me for some reason, and I got a kick at how Spencer wasn’t reacting to her.

  “Whatever. It’s a stupid nickname anyway,” she said, pasting on a fake smile and taking his arm to turn him in the direction of school.

  “‘Sara Smile’ is an old Hall & Oates song, right?” I heard him ask. He actually knew the song! I couldn’t believe it.

  “I guess. I don’t know,” Emma replied, lying through her teeth.

  “Your sister’s a bitch,” Riley whispered as we began following behind them.

  “I don’t think we’re supposed to use that word,” I mumbled, feeling disappointed now at how Spencer was letting himself be monopolized by Emma.


  Riley looked sharply at me before saying, “She’s jealous.”

  “Of what?”

  “Of how friendly he was to you. She didn’t like it. Don’t worry, though. Spence is too smart to fall for your sister. I don’t know him all that well, but I know he’s not stupid.”

  I eyed her curiously. “But he’s your cousin. How come you don’t know him well?”

  “Second cousin,” she corrected. “Not close enough to spend holidays with, just family enough to see at weddings and sometimes hear about.”

  We watched the way Emma leaned into Spencer, and he didn’t seem to hate it. Why would he? Emma was gorgeous, tall, and filled out in all the places boys liked to look, and Spencer was looking.

  “My mom went to his mother’s funeral in Boston,” Riley continued softly, sweeping a stray lock of dark hair behind her ear as we fell farther behind them. “She said it was really sad. Everyone felt bad for him. No one thought it was a good idea for him to move here and live with his uncle.”

  “Your mother is Spencer’s father’s cousin?” I asked, trying to figure out how close a second cousin was. Riley was somehow related to the Pierces, I recalled, even though her last name was different and they didn’t act like family. Her parents didn’t like Jackson Pierce any more than mine did.

  “Right and Spencer’s father was Jackson’s brother, which is weird because Jackson is so much older. I hear they hated each other. Spencer’s parents would never want him living with Jackson. That’s what my mom told my dad. But shit happens. My dad said that back to her. It’s because Spencer’s parents didn’t have a bill or something.”

  I turned toward her. “A bill?”

  She nodded.

  “You mean a will?”

  “Yeah, whatever. You know what I mean.”

  As I watched Spencer, I thought it might be nice to have a cousin like him, even as a second cousin. I had no cousins. Our family was small, just the four of us. My mother’s father died when she was in college, and my grandmother passed away last year. My dad had a sister growing up, but she died when she was little, even younger than me. His parents were gone now too. Emma remembered them, but I didn’t. The only other relative I had was Aunt Linda, my mother’s sister. She never got married and lived in Michigan now for her job, so we hardly ever saw her.

  Ahead of us, Emma was talking Spencer’s ear off. Since they were in the same grade, he had to be around fourteen, even though he seemed older to me. It was so sad that his folks died, but he didn’t look sad, although he didn’t look happy either.

  “How did Spencer’s parents die?” I asked softly.

  “His dad died in a car accident a few years ago, and I think his mom was sick with something bad. I can’t remember what,” Riley replied.

  I couldn’t imagine losing either of my parents, never mind both of them in only a few years. Poor Spencer. He was so brave. I wondered what might really be going on behind those deep brown eyes of his.

  “That’s a great song.”

  I looked up toward the voice, squinting against the sun shining in my eyes. Spencer moved to the side to block the glare with his body, and now I was peering into his shadowed face. “Huh?” I asked, feeling my cheeks grow hot under his attention.

  He laughed quietly. “The song you got your nickname from?”

  “Oh,” I said quickly, glancing around the schoolyard as I wondered where Riley and Emma were. “Yeah.” I tried to make more words come out, but my mouth wouldn’t work. Why did he make me so nervous? “My dad plays it every morning,” I finally managed to say.

  “He must really like it,” he stated, waiting for me to say something more because that was how conversations worked, only I was having trouble speaking. But he was watching me with an expectant look, and I had to make myself say something. “He plays it to get me out of bed,” I said softly, feeling silly.

  “To get you out of bed?” Spencer repeated, waiting for me to continue.

  I tried not to squirm, but his rapt attention made my tummy flutter. I didn’t want to explain, especially after Emma called it stupid. The truth was, it wasn’t a very interesting story. Like me, I wasn’t very interesting either. I thought if I didn’t look directly at him, I might be able to string together more than a few words at a time.

  Talking down to my sneakers, I said, “Well, my mom says getting me up in the morning is the hardest thing she has to do all day. I used to give her such a hard time that she gave the job to my dad. He plays this song from the living room, turns it up really loud, and comes into my room to sing it. Then he makes my mom and sister sing too. Believe me, having my whole family singing at the top of their lungs totally out of tune wakes me right up. They started calling me Sarah Smile because of the song. That’s it.” I shrugged at the end and made myself look at him.

  Spencer’s expression turned serious. “That’s a really great story.”

  The fact that he wasn’t laughing surprised me. “Not really. It shows how boring we are.” The moment the words came out, I realized my mistake, and I wondered if my story made him think about how much he missed his own family.

  “Are you calling me a liar?” Spencer asked with a challenging, but teasing, look on his face. He didn’t seem upset.

  Holding back a smile, I shook my head, trying to think of something to say to make him feel better in case he was missing his family. “I think you’re being nice,” I replied. “Because you are . . . nice, I mean. Really nice. Actually, you’re more than nice.” What? I froze, running the words back in my head, cringing inside and knowing I was blushing furiously.

  Spencer laughed softly, making me want to sink right through the wood chips that covered the schoolyard. Eventually he said, “Thanks,” and shifted his gaze away from mine.

  After that amazingly awkward exchange, there were a few minutes of silence where I just wanted to disappear, but I couldn’t make myself walk away from him. Finally, Emma came out of the school building, pushing loudly through the side door, surrounded by her fashionable friends with their tight skinny jeans, black boots, and fitted T-shirts. They were all clones of one another. My sister’s jeans and boots weren’t designer brands, but most of her friends’ outfits weren’t either. I wore jeans and a T-shirt too, but my clothes hung on me, and no matter what I did, I never looked nearly as good as my sister and her friends.

  Still feeling mortified, I was relieved at how swiftly Spencer transferred his attention from me to my sister. It took a few moments for the sinking feeling to set in.

  “That’s Spencer,” Emma said, pointing him out to her friends. They all stared at him, and I watched as he looked them over too, running a self-conscious hand through his hair.

  The realization hit me. He liked their attention; that was all too obvious. He looked at them through lowered lids and smiled. It wasn’t the open, friendly smile he’d given me a moment ago. It was sly somehow, like he was flirting with them. He wasn’t too smart to fall for Emma like Riley had claimed. He was just like all the other boys.

  Disappointment took me over as I decided that he’d only spoken to me to kill time while he waited for them. After what I’d said, he’d probably never talk to me again.

  Several weeks later, I was over being embarrassed. Now I was just plain annoyed. Spencer had hardly glanced at me since that afternoon in the schoolyard. Other than a quick hello in the morning, we hadn’t spoken more than two words to each other. That was when I decided if Spencer wasn’t going to be my friend and he wasn’t going to talk to me anymore, I didn’t have to listen to him. So I was back to sitting on our roof at night.

  It was late, well after midnight when I climbed out my window. Looking out across the backyard and down the road, I watched the Pierce house. It was dark. It appeared that everyone was sleeping. After all this time, I doubted Spencer was watching for me anyway.

  Getting comfortable on the narrow slope between the gable window and the angled roofline, I settled in. I had my fleece pullover on top of my pajamas to pro
tect me from the cool night air, and my sketch pad was balanced on my lap. I sighed, loving it out here and realizing how much I’d missed it. Why had I been so willing to give this up for Spencer? Because he asked, and I wanted him to like me. I was an idiot.

  The moon was full, shining silvery beams of light down onto the white paper, and my hand wanted to draw one person. Spencer. At first, I wasn’t going to give in to it, but then I thought if I could draw him, maybe I could get him off my mind, like transferring him out of my head and onto the paper might keep him trapped there. It was ridiculous, but I needed a valid excuse. Also, I was obsessed with his eyes lately. There was something off about his eyes.

  He smiled and joked with Emma and her friends. He talked about nothing important the way all of them did. But his eyes were wrong. They didn’t smile when his mouth did. They didn’t twinkle with amusement when he laughed. Those dark brown eyes with their golden rims and yellow flecks always looked vacant, blank and turned off, as if nothing touched him, as if he didn’t really care about anything.

  On the outside, Spencer seemed sociable and friendly. He did all the right things to fit in. And he wasn’t only fitting in, he was becoming popular. But on the inside, I didn’t think it mattered to him. His eyes wouldn’t play along with his face, and I thought if I could draw his expression as happy and smiling with those eyes that didn’t match, I could somehow figure out what he was really thinking.

  I kept him in my mind’s eye as my hand flew over the paper. I gathered everything I knew about him, which wasn’t much, and used it to add character to the crevices around his chin and mouth. His straight nose appeared on the page above full lips that turned up into an easy grin. Then I drew his high cheekbones and the strong jaw that underlined them. But I spent the most time on his eyes, trying to remember them perfectly, shading them just right so they might reveal to me what went on behind them.