by A. Destiny
“I love the tapestry room. And the artwork, too, like you. And the furniture.”
Mom and Don had taken Caroline and me to the art museum a few months ago. I was looking forward to seeing it again and hopefully getting more entrenched in the Renaissance world, living and breathing this era. Being surrounded by its art should work nicely.
And it would definitely help me keep my attention on school and the faire’s play, where it belonged.
The bus’s wheel dipped into a pothole. In unison, we were all jarred out of our seats. The whole bus cried out in surprise, then laughed as a group. I shifted and resettled myself on the faux-leather bench seat.
I found myself drawn to Jason’s face once again. It was in profile, the strong nose standing proud, teeth white, jaw firm, dimpled cheeks from his laugh. As much as I hated to admit it, he was magnetic. He made a perfect romantic lead.
He threw his head back and laughed at something the person across from him said. I couldn’t hear them, but could see the sweeping line of his throat. My own throat grew a little dry, and I swallowed.
I didn’t want to be attracted to him.
And yet I was.
In spite of everything, I couldn’t deny it anymore. I needed to stop lying to myself.
The bus drove on. We bounced along, people around me talking nonstop. Olivia talked too about nothing important, just flitting from topic to topic. I nodded and murmured in the appropriate places, but there was an odd flutter just beneath my skin. An awareness of Jason I couldn’t turn off. It was like I was hypersensitized to him, tuned in to the frequency of his voice.
How could I like him? When had it happened?
At some point in all of this mess, I’d stopped thinking of him as a complete jerk and started finding things I didn’t hate about him. Things I may even have admired. Or actually found myself drawn to.
His smile. His laugh. The way he helped others. His vulnerability at times. The easy relationship with his brother.
His love of music, equally matched by mine.
But so what if I did like him? It didn’t matter anyway. There’s no way things between us were going to go anywhere. He didn’t like me back, after all. Disappointment roiled in my stomach, and I fought back a sigh, leaning heavily against the seat. Besides, I didn’t want Jason to like me. Not at all. That would make things a hundred times more complicated.
At least right now I could keep my feelings to myself. Then once the play was over, it would fade away, and I could go back to feeling normal again.
I hoped.
The bus driver pulled into the front of the art museum. A few students cheered as we slowed to a stop.
Mrs. Gregory stood, sweeping her gaze over all of us. “I expect you all to be on your best behavior,” she admonished. “You represent our school. If you act up, you will spend the rest of the trip sitting on the bus. And I will be calling your parents.”
Some smart-mouthed guy behind me said, “Ooooh,” but quietly enough that Mrs. Gregory didn’t hear. I turned and shot him a small glare, which he didn’t even bother to acknowledge.
We exited the bus and made our way across the slick, clean tile floor and up the massive marble staircase, winding and weaving to the entrance of the armor room. Mrs. Gregory led the way, her plaid skirt swirling around her legs and her sandals flopping as she hustled forward.
She stopped, turned to the whole group. There was an excited smile on her face. “I want you to take your time and really explore this area, you guys. Take notes. Draw pictures. You’re being shown a window into a fascinating era. Take advantage of it. You can use this information to supplement both our class and your knowledge of the period itself. It will make your Renaissance faire all the more authentic.” She glanced at her watch then back at us. “Okay, meet me back here in an hour, on the dot. Do not be late.”
A group of guys took off, slowing down when one of the museum guards shot them a glare.
“Where to first?” Olivia asked me.
“Um, how about we just start along the walls and work our way around the room?”
We stepped inside, and the armored horse in the center of the massive room grabbed my attention instantly.
“Look how small the knight is,” Olivia said, pointing at the armored man mounted on top of the horse. “For some reason I thought he’d be . . . taller.”
I laughed. “I think people were shorter back then.” I stared up and at the tops of the walls, which were decorated with colorful woven tapestries and various weapons. “How cool is that?” I said, nodding at the walls. What would it have been like to live in a castle, adorned with those kinds of decorations?
“If you like those, you should see the tapestry room,” a deep voice said from just over my shoulder. Soft puffs of his breath caressed my cheek.
I bit my lip to hide my surprise. “I saw it for a minute the last time I was here,” I told Jason. “But I’ll have to go back in and see it again.”
Olivia noticed Jason beside me. Her eyes went from him to me then back to him, opening wider. She smiled. “Let’s go check out some of the weapons.”
Jason stayed between us as we walked over to the fringes of the room, looking at poles, axes, swords, and rapiers. I kept a smile pasted on my face for so long my cheeks began to hurt. He and Olivia talked about the different weapons; I merely followed along and smiled, trying to not notice the richness of his cologne or the heat coming from his body as his arm brushed against mine.
Every nerve on my skin was on high alert and focused on him. It was maddening, and yet bizarrely intoxicating at the same time. Had I ever been so aware of another person before? I didn’t think so.
He laughed at something Olivia said and we kept walking.
“Imagine trying to fight with a helmet like that on,” Olivia said, pointing to a strange spiked one. “How difficult would that be?” Her voice was breathy, full flirtation engaged and locked on Jason.
My smile slipped a bit, guilt twinging my stomach. Guilt and irritation. And guilt because of my irritation. Olivia had a right to flirt with him all she wanted. I’d told her I wasn’t interested in him. And here he was, talking and flirting right back, showing her all those dimples and neat rows of blazing white teeth. Eyes flashing in response to everything she said.
I was pretty much forgotten by both of them.
My irritation swelled to include him, too, and the rest of my smile slid off my face. I stepped back from them and forced myself to relax. This was getting ridiculous. I needed a moment to collect myself.
“I’ll be back in a minute,” I mumbled and turned on my heel, fleeing into another room right off the main armor room.
Olivia was too busy laughing at something Jason said to notice my departure. The sound followed me out.
A few students flitted around the room, looking at various paintings with rich colors and lush brushstrokes, women in fluffy gowns and coiled hair. I kept my distance from them, sitting down on a bench to look at a painting of a sunset in a valley. The colors and gentle image soothed me a little bit.
Things were starting to get out of control. If I was this frustrated from Jason and Olivia just having friendly conversation, how much worse was it going to get by the end of the year? How was I going to continue to fake my way through this?
I leaned over, elbows on my knees, and dropped my head in my hands. Why did I have to like him, of all people?
A hand tapped my shoulder. I jerked, looked up to see Jason peering down at me, a deep frown between his eyes.
“You okay?” he asked, concern pouring through his voice.
I couldn’t help the warmth that flooded me at the genuine emotion coming off him. “Um, yeah. Sorry, I’m fine.” I gave a small, polite smile to mask my feelings. “Where’s Olivia?”
“She went to the restroom. Apparently it’s a trek downstairs.” He slid onto the bench beside me, his muscled thigh not even an inch from mine. All that exercise with baseball and golf sure was working.
I tore my gaze away from his toned physique to stare fixedly back at the art on the wall. Stop acting stupid, I ordered myself. Who cared if he smelled amazing? Don’t forget why you didn’t like him in the first place.
It was getting harder to remember the reasons.
“We need to talk,” Jason suddenly said, and the quiet force behind his words grabbed my attention.
I looked at him, my heart thudding so hard I was sure he could hear it. “What about?”
He stared back, his eyes intense. “I think you know.”
My throat went dry again. I swallowed twice. “No, I don’t. What could we possibly have to discuss?”
“Hey!” The exclamation came from a couple of Jason’s friends who came into the room, scooting onto the bench beside Jason.
“There you are,” a tall guy named Camden said. He glanced over at me then back at Jason. “What are you doing?”
I stood. “Nothing. I need to go.”
I got a step away before my hand was captured in a warm, firm grip. Instant heat flooded me. I turned to see Jason looking up at me, his gaze just as firm as his hand.
“We need to talk. After school.”
All I could do was nod. I extricated my hand from his grasp and walked back toward the armor room, my fingers tingling.
Chapter Ten
It was hard to concentrate on anything meaningful for the rest of the field trip. Our class spent another couple of hours wandering the exhibits, absorbing the artwork. After coming back from the bathroom, Olivia had found me and grabbed my arm, keeping me firmly tucked by her side the rest of the time.
Normally I wouldn’t be suspicious of that. After all, she was a friend who always liked to hug and be really close, with no personal boundaries. But now that Jason was a “thing” between us, I couldn’t help but wonder if she was keeping me with her so she could track my whereabouts.
After all, if I was at her side, I wasn’t at his.
It was ridiculous to think that, and I was embarrassed to be suspicious this way. Embarrassed, but not enough to stop me from worrying about it.
Still, I played along with her and talked, laughed, and smiled as we wove our way through the exhibit rooms. Large pieces of antique furniture, rich paintings, compelling sketches drew our attention quite easily from any uncomfortable topics. We didn’t run into Jason at all, and I couldn’t help wondering where he was.
And what he wanted to talk about with me.
Did he know about my conflicted feelings for him? Why had he touched my hand earlier to get my attention? I could still feel his fingers wrapped in mine for that brief moment. Warm, firm. Compelling.
Around noon, Mrs. Gregory rounded us back up. We had lunch in one of their art rooms, sandwiches and chips provided courtesy of our school, while a curator discussed the ins and outs of finding, acquiring, and displaying medieval art, armor, and artifacts. The woman spoke drolly, her tone flat and unengaging; it was hard to keep my attention on her and not look behind me to see where Jason was.
But I didn’t want Olivia to know I was even thinking about him, much less wanting to see where he sat.
Ugh, this was getting ridiculous.
I finished the last of my sandwich and balled up the wrapper and brown paper bag in my fist.
Mrs. Gregory stood in front of us, leaning against the front wall. “The bus will be here any moment to pick us all back up. When we return to school, you guys will spend the rest of the day in the library, working on researching your projects, costumes, whatever you need to do. I’ll be checking in with you individually on Friday to see how you’re progressing.”
At least we didn’t have to go back to class. Several cheers around me confirmed that other students felt the same way. I grinned.
“Can you help me work on my play?” Olivia asked me. She crammed a few chips into her mouth, chewing fast.
I nodded. “I have a copy of the play in my book bag. We can draft your puppet play quickly, I’ll bet. It’ll be fun.” I recalled the teasing lilt to Jason’s voice when we’d had our planning meeting last week.
Nope, not thinking about him. I pushed that aside and made my smile even bigger. Fake it till you make it, right?
The bus ride back to school was louder than the ride to the museum. For the most part, I managed to tune out everyone around me. Olivia didn’t say much, busying herself with writing notes and sketching in her notebook, so I was able to escape into my own thoughts, carefully maintaining my concentration on my lap, my notebook drawings, anywhere but on him.
Even still, his presence seemed to beckon me.
It felt like ages before the bus pulled into the parking lot. We made our way off the bus and back into school, heading to our lockers to grab supplies and then to the library, where our two elderly librarians waved us inside.
“Our books on the Renaissance era are back here,” Miss Wallingham said. Her wiry white hair was pulled into a sharp, crisp bun, and she wore a mauve dress with mauve flats. “Let me or Miss Lasko know if you have any questions. We’re happy to assist with research if you need it.”
Miss Lasko, who looked nearly identical to Miss Wallingham except for having on a blue dress and black vest, nodded. “We have a lot of great material at your disposal. Make good use of it.”
Olivia and I went right for a corner of an empty table, tucked near the back of the library, by the massive windows. We plopped our stuff down and leaned back in the old wooden chairs.
“That was a fun trip,” she said, eyes shining. “My mom said she was going to buy me some fabric this weekend and help me sew my costume. We already found a pattern I can use for my gown. It’s simple but flattering.”
“That’s great,” I replied, digging into my bag and procuring my script. “You’ll still be walking around, even when you’re not doing your puppet show, and it’ll get some good use. And I bet you could reuse the dress for a Halloween party or something.”
“That’s a good idea!” With a smile, she flipped to a clean page in her notebook.
Students settled at the tables around us as Olivia and I spent the rest of the school day working on her play. It was easy for me to slip back into the dramatic work, shed my real-life concerns, and focus on something else. And it helped that Olivia was grateful for my assistance. She nodded and hmm’d as I offered ideas on how to rework passages for her puppet show.
The uneasy tension that had threaded between us started to unravel, slowly but surely. Maybe we were getting back to normal again. If she and I could maintain this, things would be great. I even found myself loosening up and laughing at her silly ideas on how to make the puppets exaggerate the romance and drama.
Plus, Jason was nowhere around us. Out of sight, out of mind.
Until the final bell rang. With it, my stomach started its mad fluttering again, reminding me of his words. He wanted to talk to me after school.
Thankfully, Olivia seemed oblivious to my nervousness. She gathered her stuff and crammed it into her backpack, shooting a grateful smile my way. “That was awesome. We got a lot of great work done, and I couldn’t have done it without you. You have play practice tonight, right?”
I nodded.
“Have fun. I’ll talk to you later, okay?” She waggled her fingers and swept out of the library, quickly weaving out of sight.
I closed my script and put it into my own bag, taking mental notes on what homework I needed to make up because of today’s field trip.
“You heading home?” Jason said not a moment later from right behind me, appearing out of nowhere.
I jerked and looked up, giving him a small glare. “Stop scaring me like that,” I whispered hotly. “And yes, I am.”
He grinned, not put off in the least from my words. “Sorry ’bout that. Can I walk with you?” There was nothing upset or angry in his demeanor. He seemed casual, normal, totally at ease. At least whatever he had to talk about wasn’t negative—or so it looked.
After standing and tossing my bag over my sh
oulder, I nodded in answer, my unease dissipating just a smidge in my stomach. In its place furled a little bit of warmth at our proximity. We made our way out of the library, down the hallway, out the front door. I was aware of his arm swinging lightly beside me, his long stride, the soft sounds of his breathing.
Most of the other students had already cleared out, so we were pretty much alone. Again.
A few minutes into our walk, Jason cleared his throat. “So, I need to ask you something.”
And just like that, the nervous flutter in my stomach started again. “Um, sure,” I said, trying to sound casual. “What is it?”
He paused, lightly touching my arm and stopping me right in front of him. His eyes were intense as they stared down at me. It took him a moment to finally speak. “Why do you dislike me so much?”
My jaw dropped; that was the last thing I’d expected to hear from him. “What?”
He glanced away, letting go of my arm and turning his attention just over my shoulder. “You’ve been very standoffish with me for a long time, and it’s gotten worse since we started with play practice. I want to know why.”
A couple of upper-class girls passed us on the sidewalk. I stayed quiet as their light whispers and laughs flitted on the breeze, waiting until they passed to speak. “What makes you think I don’t like you?” I replied, knowing it was a ridiculous question but needing to hear his evidence.
He raised one eyebrow, looking back at me. “Come on. I’m not stupid. You either ignore me or you snip at me. You dislike when I give you any feedback on your acting, and you avoid me like the plague whenever you can.”
I crossed my arms, flustered. Partly because he was right but also because it wasn’t my fault I was always on guard with him. “If I do behave that way, it’s only because you started it by—” I stopped.
Wow, I was about to tell him my vulnerable secret. How could I let that slip, and to him of all people?
“What? How did I start it?” There was an earnestness in his voice I hadn’t heard before. A slight plea for answers.
