Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Darlene shake Todd off. It didn’t take a genius to see why she was being cool to him so suddenly, and I knew he was hurt and angry. He glared at Summer Dante and fell back as Darlene, wearing her inviting smile as obvious as a car’s front bumper, slowed when she reached Summer first. He barely acknowledged her, made a sharp turn to his left, and fell back to speak to our homeroom teacher. Disappointment fell like a window shade across Darlene’s face as she caught up with the rest of us.
“I’m curious,” I said. “You were so enamored of Todd Wells that you’re still wearing red this morning.” I nodded at the red ribbon in her hair.
“So?”
“What happened to your being so desperate for Todd’s affections?”
“Summer Dante happened,” she replied without the slightest bit of shame.
Everyone but me smiled with approval.
“So you’re no longer interested in Todd?”
“Why? Are you going to chase after him now?”
“No. I was just curious about how this works,” I said.
“How what works?” Darlene asked.
“Being in love with someone one day and not the next or when someone better-looking comes along.”
“Hello! We’re not love slaves, Sage. If Todd saw he had a chance with Scarlett Johansson, he would drop me so fast my head would spin. He’s always talking about her. We’re not committing ourselves for the rest of our lives when we go out with someone, even when we go steady,” she said. She looked at the others for support. “Give me a break, right?”
“Right,” Ginny said. She looked at me. “Sometimes you do seem like you’re out of another time, Sage. Relax. We’re all just drooling and enjoying it.”
“So are you,” Mia said under her breath. “So don’t act like Miss Goody-Goody.”
“Pardon?”
“I saw the way he looked at you and the way you reacted,” Mia said as we continued down the hallway. “The others weren’t in position to see, but I did.”
“And?”
“I’m not blaming you for anything. I wished he looked at me that way,” she said, and walked faster.
Really? I wondered. Was there something special about the way he had looked at me as opposed to how he had looked at each of them after all they had told me? I looked back. Summer was just coming up behind us, talking to Ward and Nick. What had drawn them to him so quickly? Whatever he said to them made them laugh. They looked like they had been friends forever, patting each other on the back and nudging each other playfully for superior position the way boys who were good friends often did.
He obviously made friends more easily than I did. A ton of questions about him cascaded through my mind. Where he came from and what brought him and his father here were at the top of the list, along with what had happened to his mother. Obviously, whatever tragedy had befallen him and his father had eventually made him stronger and never detracted from his personal strength. He looked so centered, self-confident, and determined. How did he get that way? What was his secret, and could I steal it for myself?
He caught me looking at him, his eyes shifting quickly to capture mine as if he was highly receptive to my gaze. He smiled, and I turned away and kept walking. Unlike the reaction to him that my girlfriends had, I was feeling some uneasiness about drawing his attention. A strange black veil suddenly seemed to fall between us. Of course, no one else could see it. I felt blinded.
It wasn’t difficult for me to read and handle any of the boys I had met in this school. To me, they were all open books, talking to me with heads made of glass, their thoughts and real intentions written across their foreheads. But Summer Dante looked invincible, like someone beyond me. I didn’t tremble, but I told myself to be careful. From where the warnings came, I couldn’t say, but they came from someplace deep inside me, a place that existed in my old visions, maybe even one I had yet to realize.
He sat behind and away from me in our first class together. Despite how much I wanted to, how much the urge to do it banged away at my resistance, I did not turn around to look at him. I did have trouble concentrating on the lessons, and when I looked at my girlfriends, I saw how often they were turning to look at him and wink a smile.
After the bell rang to end class, I rose slowly, taking extra time to gather my things. I was hoping he would leave ahead of me. From the way my girlfriends were exaggerating their preparations to leave, I guessed he was still in the room.
Tired of hearing them giggle and fantasize about him, I decided to walk to my next class myself and shot forward. Just as I reached the door, I felt him come up beside me.
“You have extraordinary self-control,” he said. “You must be special.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I think you know,” he said with a smile, and hurried ahead to catch up to Skip and Jason.
He was making friends quickly with every boy in class, I thought. How was he doing that?
“What did he say to you?” Ginny demanded first as the girls caught up with me.
“Who?” I asked, even though I certainly knew. It was important for me to pretend indifference, as if I had an obligation to show them how to behave around boys.
“Don’t play games, Sage. We all saw him hurry to catch you, and we saw him talking to you.”
I looked at them, all so intent on knowing. “I made no sense of it,” I told them. “He babbles.”
“Babbles? I wish he’d babble to me,” Ginny said.
“Babbles what?” Mia practically shouted.
“He told me I had great self-control. Well?” I followed when they all stared blankly. “Can anyone tell me what he meant by that?”
“You didn’t know him from before, did you?” Darlene asked suspiciously.
“No. Don’t you think I would have said so?”
“Maybe you would; maybe you wouldn’t,” Kay offered.
“What’s that supposed to mean? Does everyone have to talk in riddles?”
Kay laughed, and everyone kept walking.
“What?” I yelled after them.
Kay paused. “We’re all friends, Sage, some of us since kindergarten, but we’re all in competition with one another.”
“For what?”
“Every good-looking boy out there. Is that breaking news for you?”
I just stared at her. I was afraid to say yes.
For the next two periods and until lunch hour, Summer paid no attention to me. I glanced his way a few times, but he was focused on schoolwork and barely looked up at any of us girls. They were all disappointed; Darlene was the unhappiest, since she had driven Todd away. Between classes, Todd was already talking to one of the prettier girls in the freshman class, Hannah Rose. I saw the tiny but distinct signs of regret in Darlene’s face as we gathered around our table to eat lunch. Summer wasn’t with any of the boys in our class. He was sitting with Nick, Jason, and Greg, which was strange. He was already involved with older boys. They were talking and laughing. Did boys bond faster than girls? I wondered. Obviously it wasn’t such a no-no for older boys to be friends with younger ones.
“I found out something new about Summer Dante,” Kay said when we were all settled. She wore a look of self-satisfaction, even superiority.
“How could you find out anything new so fast?” Mia asked, jealousy seeping out of her eyes and smeared across her lips.
“I have my ways,” Kay teased. Then she sat forward, as we all did to hear what she had learned. “He was homeschooled for the last five years. That’s why he’s in our class, even though he’s older.”
“He’s older? How much older?” Mia asked.
“I don’t know, exactly. His father is a romance writer. He publishes under the name Belladonna, and his books are supposed to be very, very sexy.”
“What?” I asked. I felt the blood rush up through my neck and into my face.
“What what?” Kay asked.
“That name he writes under—Bella
donna?”
“So? Why? Does your mother read his books?” she asked, looking at the others and smiling. “Or have you been sneaking them into your room or something?”
I shook my head. “No, I just . . . I’ve heard that name,” I said, fumbling my words.
Ginny was busy working her iPhone and leaned in with her discoveries. “Atropa belladonna is a perennial herbaceous plant whose berries are extremely toxic. They can cause delirium and hallucinations.” She looked up at me. “Is that where you heard it?”
“No,” I said quickly.
She continued to read from her Internet search. “The name means ‘beautiful lady,’ and the plant was used in a risky cosmetic practice in Italy. The belladonna berry juice was used to enlarge women’s pupils, giving them a striking appearance, but it can be poisonous, and many died unexpectedly, chasing their dreams of beauty.”
“I love it,” Mia said. “I’m getting one of his books today after school.”
“That’s good. Wait! I have a terrific idea.” Darlene leaned in like a conspirator, and we all did the same. “Let’s all get one of his books and bring them to school tomorrow and display them in front of Summer Dante,” she said.
Everyone but me giggled with anticipation. I was still thinking about his father’s pen name.
“I’ll take care of it. I’ll buy a copy for each of you,” Kay said.
“I can’t wait to see the expression on his face,” Mia said.
“I hope Jason is inviting him to his party this weekend,” Ginny said, looking toward the boys.
Kay turned to me. “Who do you predict will hook up with him first, oh great romance guru? Should we wear any specific colors or do our hair any specific way?”
I looked at Summer and then back at them and shook my head. I wasn’t getting any vibes. That black veil had fallen again. In fact, it was almost as if he wasn’t there. “I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe none of us.”
They were all quiet for a moment, and then Mia practically growled at me. “Don’t dare tell us you think he’s gay.”
I looked at him again. I still had no visions, no flow of energy coming from him that I could read. “I don’t know what he is,” I said softly, almost too softly for any of them to hear, “but I can tell you this.”
“What?” Ginny pounced.
“He’s different, very different.”
“You sound like you’re afraid of him,” Darlene said, smiling. “Afraid you might lose your virginity?”
They were all smiling at me now, waiting for my reaction.
“Maybe she has already,” Mia said.
“None of you has,” I said.
“How the hell do you know?” Kay asked, as if I was insulting them.
“I didn’t for sure, but from the way you reacted, you just told me I’m right,” I said.
No one disagreed.
Darlene changed the conversation, probably to avoid any more talk about it. All of them seemed eager to do that. I listened and nodded at some of the comments about hairdos and nail polish, but my mind drifted away constantly, and my eyes, as if under his control, turned toward Summer.
Before the bell rang to send us to class, he looked my way, but he didn’t smile.
It was strange. It was as if he was throwing down a challenge, daring me to try to ignore him.
More important, I had no doubt that I would lose that dare.
And even more important, despite the act I had put on for the girls, I didn’t care about losing to him.
10
I was the only one in our group of girls who had chosen to take the vocal music elective and therefore the only one who was in the school chorus. It was my next-to-last class of the day. I had just started singing in the chorus in my previous school before my parents had decided to transfer me.
A vision of myself singing in a church choir had haunted me until I had joined the chorus, but when I sang at my old school, even though our choral director, Mr. Hertz, was sweet and gentle, I often had flashes of a dour-looking elderly lady berating us for not putting our lungs fully into it and being stingy with God. I still decided to continue singing at my new school.
The moment I walked into the practice room and saw Summer Dante up front speaking with Mr. Jacobs, I knew all my girlfriends would regret not taking the class. All of us quickly took our places, the girls mesmerized by the sight of Summer and Mr. Jacobs laughing like old friends. Mr. Jacobs wasn’t dour, but he usually rationed his smiles and laughter like someone making his way through a desert of depression. He turned to the class and held his hand on Summer’s left shoulder.
“Class, I’d like to introduce Summer Dante, who just entered our school today,” he began, “and who has joined our team.”
Mr. Jacobs also coached varsity basketball and often used sports references when talking about our music class. He was working on getting us special chorus blouses and shirts with the school colors, black and gold. The joke was that they would have numbers on the back.
“As you all know,” he continued, “I have to be the piano accompanist during our practices, and then the school hires Mrs. Kerry, who gives private piano lessons, to play for our performances so I can be out front to conduct. I like Mrs. Kerry. She does a fine job for us, but yesterday, unbeknownst to all of you, I auditioned our new team member, Summer. I was very impressed with how well he played the piano, and he’s offered to be our new accompanist. So let’s all give him a big welcome.”
Everyone clapped. The chorus class had sophomores, juniors, and seniors in it. Most had seen Summer in the halls or in the cafeteria today, but a few hadn’t seen him at all. I could see their surprise and interest, especially the two senior girls in the chorus, Sandy Worth and Jan Affleck. Neither was very attractive. Sandy had a perpetual acne problem and was a good fifteen pounds overweight for her five-foot-four frame. Jan was tall and skinny, with a figureless body and poorly styled dull brown hair. However, they both had beautiful singing voices, and they took turns singing lead.
Summer didn’t look at me. He went right to the piano. Our first number was the Adele song “Someone Like You.” Mr. Jacobs liked to intersperse the selections he chose from classical music with some modern music so as to have something for everyone in the audience when we performed our concert just before the Thanksgiving break.
We all took our positions and Mr. Jacobs happily took his in front of the group, or team as he would call us. Summer didn’t need the sheet music. He impressed everyone, especially me, but I thought perhaps he liked Adele and had serendipitously memorized this one. Jan sang the opening verse solo, and then we all came in, never more perfectly on key and in sync according to Mr. Jacobs.
“With a pianist like this, you almost don’t need a coach,” he said.
I had never seen him so filled with enthusiasm and so light and happy. He had always struck me as too intense, as if everything he did in his life was in competition with someone. He was tall and lean, with chiseled facial features and deep-set dark brown eyes almost always soaked in a pool of intensity and determination. The motto he had hung over his classroom door was “Anyone can play, but not everyone can win. Practice!”
Although Summer used the sheet music for the rest of our numbers, I had the feeling he could play every one of them without it. Once he did play a song, I noticed that he didn’t refer to the sheet music again. Some people have photographic memories, and some have it along with a special ear for music, I thought. Summer was just one of them.
Or was he more?
We were all doing so well and getting so many compliments from Mr. Jacobs that we audibly sighed with disappointment when the bell rang to end our class. I noticed there wasn’t a girl who didn’t linger in hopes of walking out with Summer, but Mr. Jacobs kept him back with his compliments and enthusiasm. He was waving his arms and shifting his feet like he was talking excitedly to a team playing in a close championship game.
Before I walked out, I caught Summer gazing at me with his s
mall impish smile. Despite the caution I was feeling, it made me want to linger, and even though I felt a little foolish and obvious doing so, I waited just outside the doorway, fiddling with my notebooks, pretending a reason for my delay.
He was beside me so quickly and silently that I thought for a moment that he really could float. I looked up at him. He did have stunning deep black eyes. Most boys I had met rarely held their gaze on you when you looked intently back at them. Their eyes shifted, and they got a little nervous, as if they had been caught looking at you and thinking about you with lust. Some of the girls I knew liked that and washed away their prospective new boyfriends’ nervousness and guilt with their own obvious looks of desire. They would titillate each other with promises of sexual pleasure.
There was no nervousness in Summer’s face. He was filled with self-confidence. I wanted to be annoyed by it, to think of him as arrogant, but something restrained me, something pleaded with me not to drive him away. Of course, it had to do with his good looks, but there was more curiosity in me about him than anything else. Why was he so different from other boys I had met?
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey yourself. You play beautifully,” I said.
“Thanks.”
“How long have you been playing piano?”
“Not that long,” he said, with the sort of impatience someone would show if he thought the compliment was nothing unusual. “You should be the one singing solo.”
I pulled my head back. “Really?” I asked dryly. Because I gave him a compliment, he had to give me one? Did he think I would crumble quickly and maybe become his first female conquest at the school? “And you know this how?”
“It’s not a false compliment, Sage, just because you gave me one,” he said, reading my thoughts. Usually, I was much better at disguising them, from boys especially. “It’s not rocket science. I could distinguish your voice from the others’, and you have the timbre.”
“Timbre?”
“Your voice has that delicious complexity a good singer’s voice needs. I mentioned that to Mr. Jacobs.”
“And what did he say?”
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