The Shadow and the Rose

by Amanda DeWees

  Chapter 15

  With so much on her mind, Joy didn’t perform well on her finals. Great, she thought, yet another thing to hide from Dad. Their Skype conversations these days were filled with awkward silences, since most of what was going on in her life had to be kept from him, and she couldn’t help wondering if he was also hiding things from her. She tried to act as if everything was fine, but she knew he could tell something was bothering her.

  It made things even harder that she couldn’t confide in Maddie or William—either about the pregnancy or about her new knowledge of the supernatural forces at work at Ash Grove. With so much she couldn’t talk about, she felt cut off even from her closest friends, and she knew they felt it too; sometimes it felt like they were talking to each other across a chasm as wide as Linville Gorge. She longed to tell them everything, because the weight of all this unwanted knowledge would be easier if she could talk it over with them; even the dread she felt would be lessened if they were sharing it with her. And as angry as she had been to find she’d been kept in the dark, she guessed that they would be just as ticked off if they knew she was keeping something so enormous from them.

  But she had no choice but to keep silent. The council had been very clear about that.

  Then came summer, and summer was brutal.

  Ash Grove didn’t hold a regular summer session, so most of the students departed. Only a few, with a skeleton staff, stayed behind—for makeup classes or to keep current with their practice. Or to keep from being a weight of anxiety on their ailing fathers.

  Even with piano practice, Joy had too little to do, too few friends left to distract her. Tasha was doing an internship in Asheville. Maddie had departed for Atlanta to spend the summer with her father. “I’ll come up sometimes on the weekend to visit,” she promised, but Joy knew that sleepy Brasstown held few attractions compared to the big city, and predicted that she would see very little of her erstwhile roommate. She was only half sorry; Maddie persisted in her belief that Tanner was a jerk, more now than ever since she knew he wasn’t in touch with Joy, and Joy found it exhausting to live with her disapproval.

  William stayed, though, and for that Joy was glad. He was doing an independent study in composition, and he had also started a band with some of the other music students, so he was busier than she was; but in the evenings when he didn’t have a gig they hung out together, playing video games or watching DVDs or listening to music, and that helped keep her from brooding too much about the two very different men who were on her mind.

  Unfortunately, another acquaintance who stayed behind was Sheila. Ever since Melisande had left town, she had gone from merely unpleasant to outright mean. Still blaming Joy for the departure of her idol, she made constant snarky comments on Joy’s habits, abilities, looks—especially her looks. And since Joy was already nervous about people noticing her weight gain, Sheila’s cutting remarks were especially aggravating. Joy was lucky that her already plump figure disguised her condition well, but it would only take one sharp-eyed person to blow her cover.

  Things came to a head one day in July. Her morning sickness had persisted, and Joy had had to make yet another dash for the girls’ restroom after her music lesson. When she emerged from the stall, Sheila was standing in front of the sinks, sniffling and blotting her face with a damp paper towel. When she looked up and their eyes met in the mirror, Joy saw that her eyes and nose were red. Had Sheila been crying? Before Joy could ask, Sheila tossed the paper towel in the trash and turned to face her.

  “I’m glad you’re finally doing something about your weight,” she said. “But you’ll have to do a lot more puking before anyone will see a difference.”

  Joy rinsed out her mouth at the sink before responding. She had run out of patience with Sheila’s bitchiness. “Sheila, what’s your problem with me? What have I done to you that you’re always on my case? You can’t seriously blame me for Melisande leaving.”

  “Oh, like that’s all you’ve done. You’ve only screwed up my best chance to get ahead as a dancer.” Joy stared at her uncomprehendingly, and Sheila rolled her eyes at her slowness. “Look, I’m not lucky enough to have a dad who can pull strings for me. I’ve had to work my ass off to stay at Ash Grove, unlike you.”

  “No one pulled any strings for me,” Joy retorted. “I took the same admission exams for Ash Grove that you did, and I work really hard to keep my grades up.”

  “Oh, please. Everyone knows that your audition for Mo sounded worse than a one-armed monkey on crack. And yet somehow you got to change tracks anyway. Don’t tell me your dad had nothing to do with that.”

  Startled, Joy was silent. It had never occurred to her that Mo’s decision might have had something to do with her father.

  Sheila hadn’t finished her grievances. “Not to mention that if they graduate someone as talentless as you, it’s going to wreck any credibility my Ash Grove diploma has.”

  “I don’t—”

  “And then, when it looks like I might get a career boost from Melisande herself, a once-in-a-lifetime chance, you start chasing her boyfriend and she has to actually, like, take him to another state to get him away from you. Are you happy now? Because honestly, every time I see you I just want to push your ugly little face in.”

  Joy had never had so much hatred directed at her before, and she couldn’t help but be a little shaken. “I’m sorry that’s how it looks to you, Sheila,” she said, glad that her voice sounded steady. “As for Melisande, I heard that she’s coming back here in the fall. But I honestly don’t think she’s interested in mentoring girls.”

  “She certainly won’t be now, thanks to you,” Sheila snapped. “What were you thinking, anyway? A superstar like Tristan isn’t going to settle for a troll like you. He might throw you a pity lay, but that’s all.”

  Joy’s hand clenched on the edge of the sink. The last thing she wanted to do was discuss Tanner with Sheila. “Are you done?” she asked coldly.

  “No, I’m not. It made me sick to see you with him.” Sheila’s eyes raked across her, making her sharply aware of her pudginess. “You’re not even in the same species as Tristan.”

  It was an effort to keep calm. Think of the baby, Joy. “You mean because I’m not pretty enough for him?”

  “Well, duh! Honest to god, if I looked like you, I’d kill myself.”

  “Seriously?” That was such a ridiculous thing to say that her anger dissipated. “Wow, Sheila, that’s really sad. If all you have to live for are your looks, getting old is going to be hell for you.”

  Sheila stalked toward the door. “At least I won’t be alone when I’m old,” she shot back, and then the door swung shut behind her. Joy gave it a rueful smile. Well, neither will I, she thought, realizing she was holding her arm protectively across her stomach.

  She told William about their run-in that evening. He was hanging out with her in the lobby of her dorm, playing quietly on the piano as they talked.

  “I think she literally meant it,” she said, still amazed. “Can you imagine that? I think she actually believes that something as meaningless as the arrangement of their facial features makes some people better than others.”

  “Probably all of us believe that a little bit, deep down,” he said mildly. “I think we all expect beautiful people to be as special on the inside as they are on the outside. But then we learn better, when someone like Sheila opens her mouth.”

  “There’s something else going on with her,” Joy mused. “Something had upset her. Maybe she really does think she needs Melisande’s help to make it as a dancer.”

  “That doesn’t make sense. A bitch she may be, but she’s a fantastic dancer.”

  That made Joy prick up her ears. “Are you interested in her?”

  “No, of course not. I’m just saying she’s talented, is all.”

  “She didn’t perform with the other ballet students on Beltane,” Joy recalled. “I wonder what’s up.”

  William didn’t answer. He had started
playing a melody that she thought she recognized, but changing it into something new. It was plaintive at first, gradually moving into a crescendo of piercing sadness, then subsiding at last into a kind of wistful resignation. Joy was transfixed. As much as she tried to keep Tanner out of her thoughts, he was always there, and William’s playing brought her feelings to the surface with painful intensity. She stayed silent until the last melancholy notes faded away.

  “That was amazing,” she said. “Is it something of yours?”

  He nodded and shuffled the music to the back of the stack. “I call it ‘Elvira Madigan Revisited,’” he said.

  “Oh,” she said. So that was why it was familiar. Then, as light dawned, “Oh.”

  “Yep.” He didn’t look at her. “That’s the way it is.”

  “William, I had no idea,” she said. “Has it been for a long time?”

  “Ever since I met her, I think.”

  “But you’ve never said—”

  “No, and I’m not going to, and neither are you.” His voice was still calm.

  “But why not?” she exclaimed.

  He heaved a sigh and flopped down beside her on the sofa. “Because it wouldn’t do any good. Look, we both know the kind of guy Maddie goes for, and I’m not it. She’d try to be nice and let me down easy, but it would be awkward as hell, and it would mean we would never be quite as close friends again.” He took off his glasses and polished them with his shirttail. His face looked vulnerable without them. “Being friends is rough, but it’s a lot better than nothing.”

  She still refused to accept it. “You can’t be sure, though, unless you talk to her. You never know.”

  “No. I do know.” She had never heard him speak so forcefully. “Believe me, I’ve given it a lot of thought. And you aren’t going to even hint about this to her.”

  “Of course not,” she said, injured. “I just feel so terrible for you.” What he must have gone through, as Maddie went through boyfriend after boyfriend—and complained about all of them. No wonder he had finally blown up at her. After a moment, she thought to ask, “Why did you tell me?”

  He gave her a tired smile. “It’s a relief to be able to talk to even one person about it, and I figured you know what it’s like. Not that your situation’s the same,” he added quickly. “But since at the moment we’re kind of in the same boat, it seemed like it might make things a little less crappy if you knew you’re not alone.”

  She gave him a grateful hug. “You’re such a great guy.”

  “Feel free to elaborate on that theme to Maddie,” he said, and she laughed.

  Her seventeenth birthday, which fell in July, was another small oasis in the gloom. Her father sent her flowers (not roses, thankfully) and some books she’d been wanting. Maddie sent her earrings and some CDs of loud, energetic grrl-power music. William gave her laptop a memory upgrade and some new games. And Tasha came back to town to take her out to supper at the café where William’s band, Aerosol Cheese, was playing. So far they were doing mainly covers of eighties synthpop, but they were working on some original material.

  “With all the eighties music, I guess that explains why you have ‘cheese’ in your name,” said Tasha, making a face.

  “What’s the matter with it?” demanded William. “The eighties produced a ton of great music.”

  Joy groaned. “Now you’ve done it, Tasha. William can argue about this for hours.”

  “Well, it’s so frustrating that everybody rags on eighties music, when there’s a lot of terrific stuff there,” he said. “There’s no irony to it. It’s not afraid to just be happy or enthusiastic or earnest. Or to have melody. Sure, you can blame it for being naive, but isn’t that refreshing next to the whiny navel-gazing that came after it?”

  Tasha held up her hands in defeat. “Okay, okay, you win! Just don’t you guys start wearing parachute pants and mullets, all right?”

  “That’s a deal,” said William, beaming, and left them to join his bandmates in setting up.

  “There’s kind of a Peter Parker thing going on with William,” said Tasha, watching him. “That geeky kind of cute. Don’t you think? I wish he could find a girl who’d appreciate it.”

  “Are you volunteering?” asked Joy, and Tasha, a bit embarrassed, admitted that she had her eye on Maddie’s current boyfriend, Jeremiah. “I’m thinking about asking him out once they break up. He’s not damaged enough to keep her interested for long,” she said bluntly, “so he might actually be stable enough for me. But what about you and William? You two are so close, you must have thought about it.”

  “No. I’m really fond of him, but not that way.” She wished she could tell her about William’s feelings for Maddie; Tasha would probably know if William’s case was genuinely hopeless or not.

  “Are you still thinking about Tanner?” asked Tasha.

  Joy decided she might as well be up front. “All the time,” she said.

  Tasha looked sorry to hear this. “I wish you could find someone else, someone better for you.”

  “I don’t want better,” said Joy frankly. “I want him.”

  “I get it,” said Tasha. “I just worry that you’ll get in over your head.”

  Too late, Joy thought but did not say. Then conversation stopped as Aerosol Cheese took the stage.