by Nia Stephens
Sutton grimaced horribly. “I am. But Jordan lives three thousand miles away, and I’m not going to follow him to Stanford.”
“You haven’t gone out with anyone since Jordan left,” Bree pointed out. “Why Thomas?”
“Only a blind man would want to date me after going out with you. Conveniently enough, Thomas is blind, and I don’t think he’s going to mind if I make a move. But you’re my best friend, and if you tell me to back off, I’ll back off.”
“This has nothing to do with the fact that he’s blind, Sutton,” Bree said, rolling her eyes. “You know half the guys at Rittenhouse are after you and not me. You and Thomas just happen to have more in common.”
“I guess so,” Sutton said. “I can’t believe you thought he was boring! God, there’s so much I want to ask him about—”
“You know what? Go for it,” Bree said, giving Sutton a hug. “He’s all yours.”
“Really? You don’t mind?”
“Not at all. I just hope it works out for you. He’s kind of pushy. I think he’s used to getting his way.”
“So am I,” she said firmly. “And don’t worry, Bree. We’ll find the guy for you someday.”
“Maybe he’ll know a special trick with his cane too,” Bree said, opening the bathroom door. “But we can’t all be so lucky.”
THAT DIDN’T GO SO WELL FOR BREE, THOUGH SUTTON LUCKED OUT.
turn to page 155 to see what would have happened if Bree had dumped Thomas before he met Sutton, or turn to page 53 to choose another boy.
So you think Bree should end things with Thomas now? Read on to see what happens!
Chapter 6
Love Is Blind?
“So what happened between you and Thomas?” was the first question that Lucas asked when Kylian introduced him to the girls. Four hours earlier Bree had told Thomas she wasn’t interested in seeing him again. Of course, she had announced her decision to Sutton, who had probably called Kylian the instant Bree went upstairs to her apartment to call Thomas. It was entirely possible that if Lucas was with Kylian he may have known before Thomas did.
“Nothing,” Bree said, wriggling for a bit more room. The four of them were smashed into the back of Sam’s Mercedes, on their way to hear Teensie McPhoo at a small club in Alphabet City. Sutton thought it would cheer Bree up, since she was a little down since her chat with Thomas. She had chosen the “Let’s just be friends” line, which he had accepted gracefully. And though Bree didn’t want to date him, the next time her mother dragged her to some New York Philharmonic event, Thomas was just the man to take along. “We just don’t have all that much in common.”
Lucas laughed sympathetically. “Thomas is a bit one-sided, I guess. But he’s an absolute genius when it comes to music. You should hear him play sometime.”
“Maybe,” Bree conceded. “Do you play something?”
“Me?” Lucas blushed red as his hair, which was as red as a crayon. Bree thought he was adorable in an awkward, absentminded sort of way. “On a stage? Never! But Thomas is great. He actually seems more comfortable on stage than he does just hanging around.”
“What do you mean?” Bree asked.
“Oh, you know how it is.” Lucas shrugged, causing Sutton to whine about feeling squashed. “When you’re nervous, you just blab about whatever comes to mind. When Kylian and I first got together for coffee, I thought all he did was sit in his room and read sci-fi novels from the fifties.”
“That is all I do,” Kylian insisted.
“No, you read sci-fi i from the sixties, too. And the early seventies,” Lucas taunted. They sounded suspiciously couple-like for two people who had only gone out for a week. Of course, Bree knew that they had e-mailed each other for almost a month before meeting, and talked on the phone every day for three weeks. She was beginning to wonder if that was a better way to do the online dating thing, instead of meeting after one e-mail. “But I wouldn’t have known that after one date,” Lucas concluded.
“All right, if you two start staring into each other’s eyes, I’m going to hurl,” Sutton griped.
“Seriously,” Bree said, sticking her tongue out at Kylian.
Later on at the show, Bree bought a Teensie McPhoo CD and wrote a quick note for Thomas on a napkin:
Hey there,
You haven’t heard funk until you’ve heard it on bagpipes. I hope you enjoy it.
–Bree
“Give this to Thomas, would you?” Bree asked Lucas.
“No problem,” he said, but he gave her a searching look. Bree didn’t feel any need to explain herself. She told Thomas she just wanted to be friends. Friends were allowed to give each other CDs.
That Monday night, Thomas gave Bree a call.
“That was a very strange CD you gave me,” he began. “Thanks!”
“Didn’t like it?” Bree asked, underlining the words she was going to emphasize in a script Fee had sent over.
“I do, actually. It reminds me of a trip to London we took one winter. Some guy kept walking past our hotel playing bagpipes for the tourists. He was great. When it was really late, he would play Elvis songs—‘Love Me Tender,’ ‘Can’t Help Falling in Love.’ Good stuff.”
“That sounds wonderful,” Bree said. “I love London, especially around Christmas.”
“We usually go to Venice for Christmas. We have a place near St. Michael’s Square, right over the water. It’s so different there—no cars, no motorcycles. You can hear water everywhere.”
They wound up talking for an hour, and music didn’t come up once. Bree was beginning to think that he might actually turn out to be a real friend, which was an exciting possibility. Her whole life she had been part of the Bree-Sutton-Jordan-Kylian crew, and with Jordan gone, she missed having a third partner in crime. Everything was different since Jordan had left for college. They couldn’t even fight anymore, because inevitably it was two against one. And that was no fun at all. Maybe Thomas could complete the square.
“I want to meet this Thomas guy,” Sutton said a few weeks later when Bree dropped her fifth “Thomas said” during their morning run.
“Get Lucas to invite you to the Gardner winter formal,” Bree suggested. “I’m going with Thomas.”
“Oh really?” Sutton puffed. “I thought you were just friends.”
“We are. But we’re getting to be good friends, and Thomas and I dance really well together,” Bree gasped. “Are you running faster on purpose?”
“I’m not running faster,” Sutton insisted. “You’re just talking too much.”
“Maybe. Mom says my cell phone bill tripled last month.”
“Fine. I’ll ask Lucas,” she agreed. “I’ve got to meet the guy who can triple your telephone time. But what’ll we do with Kylian? He’ll be ticked if he gets left out.”
“Doesn’t Lucas have a little sister at Gardner?”
“Ew!” Sutton moaned. “That’s too freaky!”
“What about Sarah Ribera’s girlfriend?”
“But then who’ll invite Sarah Ribera?”
“Who else is gay at Gardner?”
“Like I would know,” Sutton sighed. “But we’ll figure something out. I want to meet this Thomas guy before you decide that he’s the One.”
“It’s not like that,” Bree said. “He’s just a pal, like Jordan.”
Sutton shot Bree a dark look. “Thomas is not like Jordan.”
“Actually, he’s a lot like Jordan. Smart, funny, OCD about music.”
“If you say so,” Sutton said doubtfully. “How’re the new shoes?”
That afternoon Bree had a screen test for a role as a victim in a crime show, and immediately afterward headed over to Thomas’s house for popcorn and hot chocolate in what had already become a tradition. Bree analyzed her performance and Thomas either cheered her up or congratulated her, depending on how she felt. This was a night of congratulations—Mrs. Fira poured a little brandy in their hot chocolate before allowing them some privacy in the living room. They sprawle
d all over the vast, overstuffed sofa, completely relaxed. Bree had never felt so free with anyone, but Thomas wasn’t judging her looks, her behavior, her parents, or anything else. He accepted Bree for who she was, and, to her amazement, she had learned to do the same thing. She no longer thought of Thomas as a blind guy, but just a guy, one of her guys, who happened to be blind.
“How are things with Sutton?” he asked once Bree was finished rehashing her screechy death scene.
“Still weird,” she admitted. “She’s decided she has to come to the Gardner winter formal to meet you.”
He raised his eyebrows behind his sunglasses. “She could just come up here. Or I could meet her somewhere.”
“No, I think it would be better at a formal event. Even if she weirds out completely, she won’t do anything that will destroy her dress.”
“Why exactly is she making such a big deal about this?” he asked. “You’re not her only friend, and you have friends she doesn’t know, like Selah and Melikka.”
Bree felt blood rushing to her cheeks. She knew why Sutton was being so odd. Thomas wasn’t just a friend, at least not to Bree, and she was pretty sure he felt the same. And Sutton was still so hung up on Jordan, she hadn’t said yes to a single date the entire school year. If Bree and Kylian both had boyfriends, Sutton would feel left out—and Sutton didn’t have much tolerance for feeling left out.
“Sutton’s pretty complicated,” Bree said. “I never know all the reasons for the things she does. But we’re not twelve anymore. She’ll get over it.”
“Well, if you want her to come to the ball, we’ll find a way,” Thomas said, squeezing Bree’s knee. Her skin tingled from scalp to foot, wondering if Thomas would take it any further or keep it friendly. His hand lingered, but it didn’t travel. Between her growing feelings for Thomas and her worries about Sutton, Bree thought she might go crazy. But, as usual, Thomas pulled her out of her circling thoughts and distracted her with Gardner gossip and two new CDs. When Bree finally left, she felt calm, happy and hopeful—better than she ever felt at the end of a date.
It took some maneuvering, but Kylian, Sutton and Bree all got invitations to the Gardner winter ball, sharing a table with Thomas, Lucas, Sarah Ribera, Jenna Renard, who was Sarah’s girlfriend, and Sarah’s date—one of Jordan’s cousins. It was an odd combination, and no one could keep the dates straight, but Bree didn’t care. She had been looking forward to it for days: two of her oldest friends getting to meet her newest. Thomas and Kylian got along just fine, but, to Bree’s amazement, Sutton took an immediate dislike to Thomas.
“He’s so pompous,” Sutton sneered when she and Bree headed to the restroom after dinner, before the dancing began. “Did you see the way he holds out his glass to be refilled, like he really is some kind of royalty?”
“He’s blind,” Bree pointed out, dabbing on a bit on translucent powder around the edges of her mouth. “He can’t see the water pitcher, which would make it hard to fill a glass.”
“True. But it’s the way he holds it,” Sutton insisted, blotting the oil from her cheeks. “And the way he holds back from conversations, like he’s too good to join in.”
“You can’t expect him to have a whole lot to say about Sarah’s new dye job or how gorgeous Jenna’s gown is.” Bree straightened up. “Sutton, you know all this. What’s your problem?”
“He’s not Jordan,” Sutton said, turning from her reflection to face Bree directly.
“I noticed. But neither am I, and you don’t hold that against me.”
“You want him to be the new Jordan, but it’s not going to work.”
“Because you don’t like the way he holds his water glass?”
“Because I don’t like him.”
“Come on, Sutton,” Bree sighed. “You know perfectly well that if you had met him first, you’d adore him.”
Underneath her foundation, Sutton went red. “I would never go for a guy you were dating,” she insisted.
“That’s not what I said,” Bree pointed out.
“You implied—” Sutton began, gesturing violently with a powder brush.
“Sutton Marie Harris!” Bree hissed. “My dress is not the same color as your skin. Stop powdering it.”
Looking her friend in the eye, Bree was startled to realize that Sutton was near tears.
“That isn’t waterproof mascara,” Bree said, giving her a hug. “Settle yourself, or you’ll have to wash your face and start all over. What exactly is the problem?”
“I don’t want a new Jordan, unless he’s my Jordan,” Sutton said, exaggerating her own whininess. “It’s not fair for you to be lucky in love while I’ve gotten nowhere since Jordan left.”
“For the record, I haven’t gotten lucky yet,” Bree pointed out.
“But you will,” Sutton sniffed. “A blind man could see Thomas adores you.”
“That doesn’t mean our relationship has to change. I’ve known Thomas for a month. I’ve known you since we didn’t have teeth.”
“Things will change,” Sutton said. “They always do.”
“Exactly. Thomas and I might break up, and you might meet someone new. But we’re still best friends. Right?”
“Right,” Sutton sniffed. “But I don’t want to see you screwing on the dance floor or anything.”
“Um, fine. I think I can manage that.” Bree let Sutton go and she carefully repaired her smudged eye makeup.
“How do I look?” Sutton asked.
“Gorgeous.”
“Takes one to know one, I guess.”
When they finally left the bathroom, their table was empty, except for Thomas. Everyone else was on the floor, slam-dancing to the Gardner fight song, which apparently was a tradition at every winter ball. Sutton joined the others on the floor, but Bree stayed with Thomas at the table.
“Not into slam-dancing?” she asked him.
“Not exactly my gig,” he admitted.
“And here I thought you were being a gentleman, impatiently waiting for your partner to return.”
He smiled, a completely unselfconscious grin. “Don’t you know I’d wait forever for you?”
“You don’t have to,” Bree told him.
Bree never had figured out how he always knew exactly where she was, but she wasn’t surprised when he leaned in to kiss her. Of course, kissing was one thing nearly everyone did with their eyes closed. Bree did too, the better to remember this moment—the ridiculous music, the absurd sweetness of his lips on hers.
Unfortunately, with her eyes closed, Bree didn’t see Sutton approaching.
“I thought I said not to have sex on the dance floor,” she said, trying to suppress a giggle.
“They aren’t on the dance floor,” Kylian pointed out.
“If I were you, I’d go for it,” Lucas said.
“Get lost,” Bree ordered the three of them, which they did obligingly.
“I was wrong the other day,” Bree told Thomas. “We are still twelve years old, apparently. Sutton was jealous. But everything is going to be okay now with her.”
Thomas kissed her forehead, then her cheek, then her lips again. “I said I would wait forever for you, Bree. I think I can wait until we leave the dinner table.”
“Then what are we waiting for?” she said, smiling as she helped him to his feet. She was still smiling on the way to the coat check and all the way home.
SHOULD BREE HAVE SKIPPED THE “LET’S BE FRIENDS” SPEECH AND JUST AGREED TO KEEP GOING OUT WITH THOMAS?
turn to page 147 to see what would have happened, or turn to page 53 to choose another boy.
Think Bree should go out with Matt and see if he can dance his way into her heart? Then read on!
Chapter 5
Matt
“Bree, I want you to promise me that I will always be the number one fag in your heart,” Kylian said as Bree began her message to Matt.
“I hate it when you say things like that,” Bree said. “How would you like it if I walked around calling peo
ple the N word?”
“You can’t even say the real word without flinching,” Kylian said. “But I can say fag all day long, no problem. Fag, fag, fag—”
“Ugh, stop it!” Sutton said, covering her ears.
“You two are such pansies,” Kylian said, kissing each of them on the cheek. “I’m going to class.”
From what Bree knew about public schools, even liberal ones like Lincoln, she doubted that Matt would be able to check his e-mail during the day. But she couldn’t help but wonder what was going on when he hadn’t answered her by nine o’clock. Didn’t everyone check their e-mail when they got home from school?
When Bree got up the next day, she finally had her answer, which was sent at eleven forty-nine the previous night:
Hi Bree,
Thanks for writing to me. Sorry I didn’t reply faster, but I just left the studio. We have a show coming up, and I’m dancing basically every minute I’m awake this week. I have next Wednesday night off, if you’re free. I see that you’re a fan of old movies, and I happen to know that there’s a Fred and Ginger fest going on at the Atlantic. What do you say? Looking forward to meeting you,
Matt
Bree was blown away. There was a saying that everyone loves old movies but no one likes to watch them, and, in her experience, it was true. But it made sense for a dancer to love Fred and Ginger. She typed up a quick response and printed out the original to show Sutton before their run.
Sutton was not impressed. “Next Wednesday? What can he possibly have to do on Friday and Saturday night?”
“It is possible to have a rehearsal on weekend nights,” Bree pointed out, finishing her stretches. “You ready?”
“Sure.” Sutton took off a little faster than usual, forcing Bree to scramble to keep up. “Maybe he goes out with his boyfriend on the weekends?”
“Some people actually do work hard all week long, Sutton,” Bree puffed. “Dancers have it tough. Worse than actors, even.”