Most of the questions were very specific and about Iceman and what happened after the ballroom and at the Memorial. The easy questions didn’t take me long to answer. But it would have been faster if I didn’t have to play like I was researching. Some questions had nothing to do with Iceman, though. They addressed my tour group and how we were holding up.
I only wrote one question,
Why haven’t the terrorists killed us yet?
I really wanted an answer. It seemed it would all be so much easier if they did just that.
“Could I take a look at your work again?” Ryan asked. It had only been a few minutes since I’d finished, and I wondered how he’d known to ask me for it.
“Great again,” he said with enthusiasm after reading through my responses. “Maybe we could change just a few things.” He wrote some follow-up questions, which he handed me to answer. He also added a few comments, his writing plain and easy to read.
They had located Iceman, who gave me the photo. He only worked for the head guy that had ordered the kill of the senator’s aide. I shouldn’t fear him; he was a little guy in the scheme of things.
I would anyway. He scared me.
Also, they’d gathered some blood evidence from the ballroom and had rescued the pictures from Alex’s toilet phone and were building a strong case against the leader of the terrorists and the Senator. The FBI would wait until we left D.C. to take them all into custody. Everything was going along as planned. They knew what they were doing. I should forget about the photo, and go about the rest of the trip like nothing had happened. I was being protected.
The note ended. He hadn’t answered my question. I turned and looked at him until he turned to me. I raised my eyebrows and said, “What about this one right here.” I pointed at my question.
“Hmm,” he said, taking the paper from me. He wrote a simple sentence.
We don’t know.
Great. Just great. They didn’t know why they kept us alive.
I also couldn’t forget the photo. Its personal nature felt like a serious warning to all eight in my group, not only Marybeth and me. The danger loomed over us all.
I wished I could have talked to Jeremy to calm my fears. He made me feel safe somehow.
Time flew by. I worked hard and did the best I could, but after answering the FBI’s questions, I had a harder time losing myself in my work. My mind wandered. I wondered who would read through my notes and what would happen to them. I looked at Ryan. He must have felt me look, and he turned and asked, “Did you have a question?” Could he read my mind?
“Yeah, I was wondering who’d be looking over my research.”
“Staffers do that. It slowly works its way up through the chain of power if it is any good,”
“Really?” I asked, not convinced. I wondered if I had been wasting my time. I mean, while interesting, I didn’t want to know all about immigration.
He looked me straight in the eye and said, “Really.”
I guess I’d have to accept his answer.
My intern, who will remain unnamed because I couldn’t remember his name, came at five and whisked me away to the daily question and answer session, with the interns this time. It seemed to go on forever. I wanted to get back to the hotel, and I’d just realized how famished I felt. I hadn’t eaten since breakfast because Ryan hadn’t thought to give me a lunch break. The FBI had dealt me another raw deal.
The question and answer period went long, so instead of leaving at five-thirty, we left closer to six. I hurried onto the bus and plopped onto a seat, looking out the window, when I felt someone sit next to me. My heart about failed me when I found Rick staring back at me.
I had been so distracted by my intense hunger that I hadn’t taken any precautions against him sitting next to me. My heart thundered at first, and then I looked into his big, sad, blue eyes, and my heart melted.
He took my hands in his and said, “Can we talk later?”
I’d never been so scared in this same way in all my life. This was painful-scary. I had hurt someone. My soul ached. I knew how it felt to be on his side of the fence and be hurt, I had hurt like crazy the last three months at high school, but I’d never been the one doing the hurting. I held my breath and nodded.
“I’ll come by your room and get you after dinner, okay?”
I nodded again and seeing Alex coming down the aisle, couldn’t help but panic. What if he saw Rick holding my hand? My heart pounded thinking about Rick’s hand holding mine. I liked it. Maybe I should just let things happen with him. Then another problem walked down the aisle. Kira.
She would freak out just seeing Rick sit next to me, let alone seeing him holding my hand. She got closer. He got closer. I felt sick. I looked around in hopes of finding something I could set on top of our hands. There was nothing. A few more feet and they would be here. I breathed deeply. I had to look at Alex.
Alex looked at us and then said, “Riiickk”, his eyes resting on mine while he raised his hand to high five Rick. Rick let go of my hand and slapped Alex’s while he smirked. I pulled my hand quickly into my lap and breathed deeply, staring at Alex, hoping he hadn’t seen my hand in Rick’s. Had he? Did he care? Then, I felt even a deeper guilt for hoping Alex hadn’t seen. I had to treat Rick better.
Kira pushed Alex forward, laughing and flirting.
“Keep it moving, Alex,” she said.
She didn’t even notice us. I remembered what Rick had said about Alex being a bigger fish in Kira’s eyes than he. What Rick had said was true. The sad part was that I felt the same as Kira. My face grew hot; and I felt a bit sad, like I’d lost something. I watched Alex and Kira head for the last bench and sit down. My heart burned with jealousy, while my soul ached.
Rick grabbed my hand again. I turned, and we looked at each other for a few seconds, and then I looked away, my heart speeding along. How could I make this right? He didn’t release my hand until we reached the hotel. This time it had been my hand that was sweating, and I was exhausted. Why didn’t I feel the same way about Rick that I did about Alex? This guy really liked me—the first guy ever. If there were no Alex, would I feel differently about Rick? Would my heart be pounding out of my chest because a great guy was holding my hand?
Herded into a conference room back at the hotel, we sat around big round tables for dinner and apparently, another question and answer period with Mrs. J. Our mini-group barely fit around the one we chose. The tables were set for seven, but Josh, the last one to arrive, grabbed a chair from the table adjacent to ours and crammed it between Summer and Alex’s, which forced us all to sit a bit further away from the table than normal.
“As you eat your dinner,” Mrs. J. said, “we’ll be discussing the issues you heard about as you shadowed your intern. We’ll start as soon as everyone has their food.”
A bunch of waiters and waitresses brought the food out impressively fast. Food at last.
“You all have paper and a pen on your tables for notes,” Mrs. J. continued. “As you know, we’ll be debating the same issues on Friday and Saturday with other groups, so pay attention. We’ll start with this table over here. Each table has a mic for you to use.”
I tried to pay attention to the speakers. It was the polite thing to do, right? But when the fourth person almost bored me to tears, I decided the polite thing was meant for good speakers, and I tuned out. I had better things to do, like concentrating on eating and watching Alex, who conveniently sat directly across from me. I was hyper-aware of Rick, who sat next to me, but who didn’t seem as sad now as he had been. I kept picturing Alex walking up to Rick and me on the bus and seeing us holding hands, wishing I could go back in time and change it. Shame burned my cheeks. I had to get a grip.
At last, everyone’s attention fell on our table. I looked at the clock. Eight. It seemed like the waiters had cleared our tables hours ago.
Josh started to tell us about the issues he’d heard about and was about as interesting as a blade of grass, so I turned off
again. I felt a nudge on my arm and looked at Marybeth. “You’re up, Christy,” she said.
Caught off guard, “Uh, uh…,”escaped my lips.
Alex smiled at me, raising his eyebrows.
Mrs. J., who stood at the front of the room, behind Alex, caught my attention, too, giving me a stern look that knocked me back into reality. My natural desire to “please the teacher” took over, and I spoke about immigration and what I’d learned for a full five minutes. When I took my eyes off Mrs. J., it looked like everyone was staring at me, mouths ajar and eyes wide. I felt my face go hot, sure it was cherry red by now.
I swallowed hard and bent my head down.
What had I said that made them all stare?
“Wow, Christy!” Mrs. J. exclaimed. “That was amazing. Everyone, was that not amazing?”
I heard people clapping, and I looked up. Almost everyone clapped and looked at me, except for some at my table. I shouldn’t have been surprised. My speeches always received roaring reviews from crowds—but I didn’t want that here. I didn’t want anyone to know how good I was.
“Christy is a born politician,” Mrs. J. continued. “Didn’t you all want to stand up and support her?”
I heard a lot of “yeahs”. Rick squeezed my knee, and Alex mouthed, Born politician, and he chuckled.
Born politician? I sure hope not.
I felt the red deepen in my face as Marybeth whispered in my ear, “Smarty pants,” and then grunted.
It did feel good to get all the positive attention, but the negative sat like a boulder sitting on me and it seemed to press out the positive. I wished I’d done a boring presentation like everyone else. No one would have noticed me and everything would have been normal. Why did I have to be such a great speaker? I didn’t want everyone to know I was smart—I just couldn’t help myself—a horrible habit.
“If we would’ve known she’d be so excellent, we would’ve had her go first.” Mrs. J. said, putting the final nail in my coffin. Marybeth huffed this time and turned her body away from me.
It seemed like the past few days I had been on an emotional rollercoaster that took me soaring, only to drop me crashing below where I had begun. I had no time to relish the good, because the bad lurked only seconds behind, ready to pounce if I felt any happiness at all.
Rick’s hand still sat on my knee and he pressed it again. I turned and gave him a weak smile. His returned smile genuinely comforted me. Maybe he understood what I was going through. A part of me really wanted to like him and let him make me tingle again with another kiss.
The rest of the table finished their presentations, and they weren’t half-bad. Of course, Alex’s was the best, but everyone was anxious to get out of there by the time we were done. Three hours dissecting political issues with this crowd dragged on too long.
“Tomorrow, you’ll be with the lobbyists,” Mrs. J. said. “You’re dismissed to go get some rest….uh, Christy, could I see you a minute?” I was already out of my chair and heading for the door when she called me.
“Teacher’s pet,” Josh snickered.
I felt so stupid, like I was back home and a total dork. I walked as slow as molasses to meet her.
“I repeat, wow!” Mrs. J. said. “You truly are a natural. You packed so much feeling and information into your presentation. Enthralling. I think I’ll put you with someone special tomorrow, if that’s okay.”
I figured it really wasn’t a question and just nodded.
“Great. Go get some rest. Tomorrow will be an amazing day for you.”
In no hurry, I walked down the hall toward the lobby, but felt a hand on my arm before making it out of the hall and into the lobby.
“Christy,” Alex said. Apparently he had been down the hall in the opposite direction of the lobby. Great. Now he could ridicule me some more.
I met his stare. He looked excited. My heart pounded.
“A bunch of us are going to a club tonight. You wanna come?”
I expelled a puff of air that showed how unbelievable his offer sounded to me.
“A club? Don’t you have to be twenty-one to get into clubs?” I asked before thinking. I let my goody-goody side talk.
“Usually,” he said with a smile, “but a guy in another mini-group has a connection and can get us all in to a club in Georgetown. What do ya think?”
His look was intense and his brown eyes melted into mine. My whole body felt like it shook, but I don’t think it did. How could I refuse? Alex asked me out. I stood there staring, still in shock.
He reached out and took one of my hands in his, which gave me goose bumps all over, and said, “You have to come.” I wanted to die. Was this really happening?
“’Kay,” I finally sputtered, while a voice in my head screamed for me to refuse. I did need my sleep and I knew bad things could happen at clubs, but I would be with Alex, and he would protect me, and everything would be okay. I couldn’t refuse.
“Cool. Sneak out front at eleven,” he said. “It’ll be fun. You won’t regret it.” He paused, his eyes amazingly soft, then he shouted out, “Race you to the elevator.” He flew down the hall.
After a second of pulling it together, I took off and almost caught him.
“You can run. You almost beat me,” he seemed to complain, although his eyes shone.
I laughed, trying to catch my breath as we walked into the elevator.
It was only nine when I got to my room and it hit me. He said to sneak out. I took a deep breath, wondering if I could work up the courage. Was Alex worth it? What if something bad happened again? That little voice in my head told me to forget about it and go to bed, when I heard a slight rap on my door.
Crap! Rick! I’d forgotten.
I pulled the door open a crack, hiding my body behind the door. “I’ll be right out.”
He nodded, and I shut the door with a soft click, trying not to disturb Marybeth. I couldn’t even hear her breathe. Already steaming mad at me for getting the scholarship and Mrs. J’s praise, I didn’t want to make it worse by waking her. I got dressed and slipped through the door.
The moment I saw him, the feelings of the kiss under the spray of the fountain took over my entire mind, and I stood there gawking. His face looked so soft and flawless. He grabbed my hand and led me down the hall, his blue eyes piercing my soul.
“Where are we going?” I asked, trying to ignore the fact that he could feel me shake.
“To my room, where we can have some privacy.”
I stopped in my tracks and the shaking stopped as I pulled him to a halt. He swung around to face me.
“I’d rather go somewhere else,” I said.
“Oh, okay.” He was quiet, probably thinking about where to go. “Maybe a conference room is open. Let’s go grab the elevator.”
Some strange, hunched over old man stood in the elevator. Not the friendly kind of old I was used to, but the mean-old. His beady eyes seemed to bore through me. When we hit the lobby, I hurried out.
Luckily, the first door of the first conference room we tried opened. Rick offered me a chair and pulled another one around and sat, facing me, our knees almost touching. He smiled at me, but I couldn’t smile yet, I was too nervous. My heart pounded so hard I was sure it bruised my ribs.
Rick didn’t even wait a few seconds before saying, “Why did you run like that? What happened? I don’t know what’s worse, you running away from me, or you avoiding and ignoring me after we kissed.” His eyes looked adoringly at me.
Man, he went straight to the point (just like with Kira), and the dagger in my heart dug deeper and twisted. Silent, I searched for a way to speak the truth, but I could only think of lies. Not to mention how distracting his lips were; I found it hard to look away from them. He was so genuine and forthright, I didn’t deserve the look in his eyes. He tried to lay everything out on the table, and I searched for a way to hide from the truth.
Stop looking at his lips, I kept telling myself. He deserved an answer, but my mouth was so dry no
w that I couldn’t imagine talking. It felt like an hour had passed since he asked me why I had run and yet he still sat across from me, silent.
He didn’t break eye contact. I felt exposed and wondered if he knew how much I wanted his soft lips to touch mine again. I had no right to them, no claim, but I still wanted them. Nervous, my mouth felt full of cotton.
I turned my head to try to hide from his searching eyes, but he reached up and with a firm gentleness turned my face back to his. How could such soft hands be so strong? I guess I couldn’t hide.
He moved his fingers gently over mine, glancing down at our hands.
“Christy, talk to me please.”
Every time I looked at him, my lips tingled and my heart raced. I tried to pull it together, to give him the answers he deserved; but instead, I started to lean ever so slightly into him. Luckily, he was far enough away, that my leaning was not enough to bridge the gap between our lips.
Somehow I pulled back, the voice in my head screaming that I wasn’t being fair to him. He hadn’t been my first choice, but it felt so good to be with him, and I wanted more of it. He did look good and I loved the way he cared for people. His kindness seemed unshakeable. At that precise moment, he was the one for me. I felt tingles deep inside. My chest burned.
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. Rick straightened up in his chair, expectant. “Christy, just tell me. Talk to me.”
I closed my mouth and swallowed, hoping to bring moisture back so that I could speak. I smiled.
“I don’t remember the question.” I squeezed his hand.
He let out a big sigh.
“Christy.”
“I’m sorry,” I tried to explain. “I’ve had so much on my mind, I’m not thinking clearly. I’m so nervous.”
All true statements….
“Why did you run?” he repeated.
He looked so vulnerable and my heart broke and yet thoughts of Alex jumped back into my head. Why was I still thinking of Alex? I looked at my knees and just started talking, “I’ve just never kissed anyone before, and I freaked out. I didn’t know if I should be kissing you or not.”
Watched (The Watched Series) Page 15