by Abigail Boyd
I had been trying to ignore Henry as much as possible. I didn't like the effect he had on me, making me forget about what should be important. It was as if he lived in a parallel world that occasionally dipped into mine. Despite whatever promise he had made me give to continue our chat, I had little interest in picking the conversation back up.
Being the new guy, he got a lot of attention, especially from the girls, as I was well aware. It had been my experience that anyone who flirted with one girl, did it with all the girls. And so I tried to be as cautious as possible.
In History, I noticed everyone turning in their desks as he spoke, although I couldn't hear what he was saying. For a fleeting moment I wished I could, and tried to read his lips. His mouth had become an unconscious obsession for me, the first place I gazed when I saw his face.
Ambrose Slaughter, who was sitting next to him, frowned beneath the golden mass of his hair. Ambrose had always been as interesting to everyone as Henry was now, although I had never understood the attraction. He had the personality of a dripping towel. I turned back around in my seat, scribbling a tornado in the margin of my History notes.
In Art class, I got around to apologizing to Theo for Becky and the others at lunch. I hadn't wanted to mention it in the lunch room, worried it would bring up hurt feelings. But she didn't seem fazed.
"It wasn't right for them to act that way," I said.
Theo shrugged, putting the finishing touches on a feather of a bird in her book.
"I'm used to being picked on, Ariel," she said softly. "It's not a big deal. People leave me alone here, most of the time. I don't really care what they think of me as long as they don't say it. I was getting tired of being called Tinkerbelle every day."
"But Tinkerbelle's basically a fairy pinup," I said. "That's like a compliment."
She smiled slyly and shook her head.
"I was teased some last year," I said, turning my art gum eraser over in my fingers. "By you don't have to guess who," I continued, and nodded towards Lainey. "She's actually being nice to me this year so far in comparison. You know how you said you weren't Goth enough or normal enough for people? That's how it is here. I just never realized it before, back when..."
I trailed off. I hadn't mentioned Jenna once to Theo, and I preferred to keep it that way. To her credit, she never asked, although I assumed she had heard something about it.
Henry sauntered past our table then, causing me to straighten. I had gotten to the point where I could tell it was him just from seeing him walk in my periphery vision. He started digging in the supply cabinet behind us. Not wanting him to hear me badmouth his new best friend, I changed the subject.
"I think I'm going to fail Geometry this year," I groaned. "This morning Mr. Vanderlip held me after class to lecture me about my abysmal quiz score."
"That's no good," Theo said sympathetically. "I'd offer to help, but I don't do that great in math myself. I usually pull a little over a C."
"He told me I should get a tutor," I said. "But I don't know where to find one."
"Maybe ask one of the seniors?" she suggested.
Suddenly, Henry came around and put his elbows on the side of the table across from me. He leaned his face in his hands, his fists squishing up his cheeks. I tried to ignore how cute it made him look.
"May we help you?" I asked, and I heard Theo snicker beside me.
"Geometry is my second favorite subject, right up there next to physics," Henry said. "If you ever need any help, I'd be happy to offer my qualified services." He grinned at me, turning his charm up another notch.
"You want to be my tutor?" I asked, raising my eyebrows. The day was suddenly veering off into the bizarre.
"Sure, why not?" He stood up, and tapped his knuckles on the table. He had beautiful hands, I noticed, the rigid veins trailing like rivers beneath his skin. Really, he had beautiful everything. "If you can handle being around me for long without wanting to run far away."
"I don't know if that's possible," I said dryly. Though I was attempting teasing, I could feel my pulse racing in a peculiar way. Suddenly his attention didn't seem so unwanted. He lowered his voice to a throaty whisper and gazed into my eyes.
"Maybe I won't let you run away."
My throat tightened, my breath catching. I had no idea what to say. I couldn't look away from him.
After a second, his face broke into his usual smile, his eyes softening. "Okay, that was too big bad wolf, huh? I try for cool and it comes out corny."
"It was a bit corny," I pretended to agree. It had not been the least bit corny. "But I'd be grateful not to flunk." I really did need the help, I reasoned with myself. So what if it came from someone cute? It didn't make the potential knowledge any less useful. As long as I could focus enough on the math to retain it.
"Good. Here's my number." He flipped to a blank page in my sketchbook and scribbled the digits upside down, so that they were right side up for me.
"Text me and tell me when is a good day and time for you," he said.
He picked up the reference book that he had gotten out of the supply cabinet and headed back to his seat. My mind was foggy, as if I'd just been dosed with tranquilizers. A heady sensation of giddiness was speeding up my torso.
I ran my index finger over the penciled numbers, not believing they were real. The graphite smudged a little. Theo wacked me on the arm, knocking me out of my reverie.
"Ow."
"He totally wants you, you know that right?" Her voice was high and excited. "What I just witnessed was basically verbal foreplay."
"He does not want me!" I said in a loud whisper. The girls at the next table glared at us; I tried my best to smile so they would look away.
"Lainey has him tightly ensnared in her web," I continued, wiggling my fingers like spider legs. "There's no way to extricate him from that. If I so much as lay one finger on Henry, that finger is as good as torn off."
Henry put one knee on his seat. He looked back at me and quickly flicked his eyebrows up, smiling again as he shifted and sat the rest of the way down.
"Yeah, you just keep on denying it," Theo said, whipping her sketchbook open with a flourish.
The whole walk home, I debated my interpretation of the scene between Henry and me. With Jenna no longer around, it was possible that I was gullible. She had always been my logic for me, offering me advice that was more often than not very solid. Now that I didn't have a person to bounce ideas off of (I liked Theo, but I didn't feel completely comfortable talking to her about that stuff), I didn't trust my own feelings.
At dinner, both of my parents were home for once. It had been a while since I'd seen them eat together. Since my birthday, in fact, if cake could be considered a meal. I assisted Hugh in making spaghetti. As the garlic bread baked it made the whole downstairs smell heavenly. I set the plates and silverware out on the dining room table.
"Use up the party napkins," Claire suggested, breezing into the room and kissing my dad on the cheek. She tossed her briefcase and laptop on the counter.
I took the brown happy birthday napkins out of the drawer and nestled them beneath the forks and knives, glad to get rid of them. And to forget all about that strange day, and the dream that had given me more questions than answers.
Around the dinner table, I prepared my proposal, wanting to get it right.
"I got a D on my first Geometry quiz," I said. "And I thought I knew the material, too." I never would have been so open to telling them before.
Claire immediately crinkled her nose, a common gesture that also occasionally appeared on her sister's gaunt face. It meant annoyance, a rift in the predictable flow of her life. But I stopped them before they could start the usual "try harder" math lecture.
"So would it be okay for me to have a tutor from school over this week?" I asked. "Mr. Vanderlip, my math teacher, suggested it."
"Who's the tutor?" Hugh asked with some suspicion, fork poised in the air.
"Henry Rhodes," I said, trying t
o remain calm. Just saying his name made overexcitement appear in my voice. "He just moved to Hell."
"A boy?" Claire asked, in the tone of voice she would have used had I suggested a wild animal. Maybe she thought the two were one in the same.
"Yes, I believe so," I said.
"I don't know about that..." Claire said, leaning back in her chair. I watched the little vein in the middle of her forehead pulse.
"I need the help," I pleaded. "Without it, I'm sure I'll flunk. And Henry is in all of my Honors classes. He's smart. And he offered. It would be totally free, no strings attached." At least, I hoped so.
Hugh and Claire looked at each other. It was one of their moves that made me think they communicated by thoughts.
"All right," Claire said finally, pushing her plate away. "But I want him to meet one of us, first. If he's just some grabby-handed little..."
"He's not," I said firmly. "I wouldn't be asking if he was. I have better judgment than that." Her raised eyebrow indicated she wasn't so sure about my judgment.
"You said they just moved here?" Hugh asked in passing.
I nodded, dipping a piece of bread in the leftover sauce puddle on my plate.
"I went to school with a Phillip Rhodes, from first grade on up. I think we graduated the same year. But I know he left after high school, when he got married." A very thoughtful look had crossed my father's face, a skinny line appearing between his eyebrows as he gazed off into space.
"Cheryl Glass, wasn't it?" Claire asked him.
Hugh nodded. "Yeah, I think so," he said.
"Biggest snob in our school," Claire divulged. "She acted like she invented the side ponytail." It sounded like a familiar story.
"Henry said something about his parents moving back here. It's probably the same family," I told them.
For some reason, Hugh looked troubled.
Chapter 9
I paced back and forth in my room with my phone in my clenched fist. I had been repeating the same routine for about twenty minutes. Maybe the number was fake? Walk, pause, look at phone, walk. Maybe the whole thing was some horrible prank Lainey and Madison conceived over a tanning session.
Finally, I typed out a text, and forced my thumb to hit SEND. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Except possible humiliation. Having the text forwarded to everyone in school...
The phone shook in my hand. Every second I waited for a reply, I grew more anxious.
Thirty seconds later, the phone beeped. I almost dropped it on the carpet.
Tomorrow after school is good, his reply to my suggestion read plainly.
I let out a breath, and sank onto the floor beside my bed. I set down the phone next to me and my hand bumped something beneath the dust ruffle. I slid the object out. It was a familiar photo album, the glittery pink front covered with heart stickers. The anticipation in my chest melted into a numb block.
I thumbed through the photos of Jenna and me together. Birthday parties, on vacation. Smiling gleefully in almost every shot. I pitied the girls in the pictures, who didn't know how much their life would change when they got older. Guilt slithered through me again. What was I doing? Maybe I was just distracting myself.
I leaned my head back against the side of the bed, and shut my eyes, the photo album still in my lap. Jenna wouldn't trust Henry for more than flirting, I was certain of that. But that was Jenna, or at least, Jenna the next generation, whose buoyant attitude had crashed in flames somewhere along the way.
I wondered if she really had run away. It wouldn't be that out of the question. I denied it initially because I couldn't imagine her keeping such a big secret from me. But even I had to admit that things had changed in the last months of our friendship. And then there were all the times she had complained about feeling trapped in Hell, and hating her parents.
I wondered what she would think of me now.
Of most people I've heard it said that if they were gone, they would want their friends to move on and be happy. Not Jenna. Jenna would want me to set up a shrine and stand vigil to it every night. And I knew I wasn't doing enough. Over the summer, I had walked through every street and inch of woods surrounding her house. I had put up flyers all over town. I had answered every question her parents and, eventually, the police peppered me with, and there were stacks of pages worth. But it wasn't enough, and I knew it.
When I went to sleep that night, I had a different kind of dream.
Henry stood at the end of a thin ribbon of sidewalk. He waited patiently for me, his arms crossed in front of him. I walked to him, because there was nowhere else I'd rather go. His eyes were trained on my every step, and I couldn't walk fast enough. I reached him and our mouths met. Hands sliding through each other's hair. Tongues twisting. I had never had a dream like this.
We were on the couch in the basement then. His mouth broke away from mine, as he pulled his shirt up over his head, tousling his hair. There was nothing but a blur underneath, where his chest should be.
Someone knocked on the door. Persistent, they wouldn't stop, even though I tried to block it out. As much as I feverishly wanted to keep kissing him, I couldn't ignore the sound.
"I have to go," I whispered. His face retained its patience, his eyes soft and watchful.
"I'll always be here," he said.
I stood up off of the couch and walked through the filmy haze. Then I was standing in front of the back patio doors, staring outside. Someone stood out in the darkness, I knew, but I couldn't see them.
That's when I woke up. The black air in my room suffocated me.
Nerves plagued me all day, to the point where I couldn't eat lunch or I knew I'd throw up. The dream I'd had about Henry made me both more aware of my feelings and more conflicted. Henry and I didn't acknowledge each other in school, and I wondered idly if he had changed his mind. I even scrolled through my text messages to make sure his reply was still there; it was.
I didn't talk to Theo about it, even though she had been there when Henry had first brought the suggestion up. Instead we compared notes we had taken in Spanish, our other class together, and kept our chatter to mundane topics.
After the bell rang in Art class for school to be over, I stayed behind as I had the other day. Only this time I was waiting for Henry instead of trying to avoid him. My stomach was a pit of nerve soup as I stood up.
Lainey tried to walk out with Henry and he said goodbye to her. I couldn't help but be a little pleased at the stunned look on her face as she watched him walk back to my seat. I looked down at the floor; a little afraid her eyes would become lasers and bore a hole in me.
"Are you ready?" Henry asked me in a low voice. I nodded. "Do you need me to carry anything?" He held out his arms, almost as if to hug me. I bit down on my grin.
"No, thank you," I said softly.
"Is somebody picking us up?" he inquired, grabbing his own books off his desk and holding them underneath his arm.
"I actually walk home," I said. "I don't live far." My speech stuck behind my tonsils, and I cleared my throat.
"Great," he said, the usually-present smile arriving. "We can take advantage of the warmer weather before it says goodbye."
We walked out of the emptying school and through the parking lot. Out of nowhere, shyness had overtaken me, rending me speechless. I watched the cars pulling into traffic; I couldn't even look at him, afraid I would either start laughing and be unable to stop, or I would faint.
"What did you think of the quiz in History?" he asked as we made it to the sidewalk. I shrugged my shoulders, which had tensed up considerably.
"Half the time I don't know if Wick is being serious or not," he said, shaking his head. "I have a hard time editing my notes down." I knew I should respond with my own opinion, but I couldn't find the words.
We walked in silence for a few minutes, me berating myself inside my head. The sunlight made the gray sidewalk shimmer. I knew I was making a fool of myself, but I didn't know how to stop it. It was like watching a slow-motion vid
eo of a person jumping to their death from a skyscraper.
"Won't it be great when we can start driver's training?" he asked, still trying to get me to talk. "Finally be able to go wherever we want." I nodded noncommittally.
"What's with you?" he asked finally, stopping in his tracks. "You've barely said a word this whole time."
"Sorry," I said, finally turning towards him. He was almost exactly the same height as I was, maybe an inch taller, so I looked straight into his eyes. "I don't mean to be so awkward, I just...I've never been great at talking to guys. They all think I'm weird."
He smiled, not a smirk, but a genuine, nice smile. "Don't worry, I'm safe. Nothing freaks me out. You could tell me anything and I wouldn't think you're bizarre. Well, almost anything. You've never murdered anyone, have you?"
I shook my head, and a short laugh came out of my throat.
"Ha! I knew I could do it," he declared triumphantly.
"Do what?" I inquired.
"Make you laugh. You're always so serious around me. You've made my day, dear." He nudged me with his shoulder.
The old-timey affection was not missed, nor was the physical touch, but I chose not to comment on either of them. The dam on my words was broken, however, and I started talking back to him.
"You promised you'd bring up our discussion the other day," he reminded me.
"I did," I agreed.
"Why is it so bad that I'm friends with those people?" he inquired, searching my eyes.
I looked down at my feet. "They're awful."
"They're not so awful," he argued. "You just think they're better than you or something. Well, I'm here to tell you it isn't true."
I blushed, feeling my features become a little look of shock for a moment until I smoothed it away. "How did you know I felt that way?"
"You hunch your shoulders," he offered, looking up at the sky as he thought of other reasons. "You look at people as though you're afraid they will bite you at any moment. Why?" When he asked the question, he looked at me again.
