Taurus Eyes
Page 2
Jaffa is known for his interest in subjects off the beaten track. I can’t wait to see what he thinks about astrology.
2
THOSE WITH THE SUN IN TAURUS CAN’T HIDE THEIR
EMOTIONS, NOT WITH THOSE EXPRESSIVE EYES.
ALTHOUGH NOT GUARDED LIKE SCORPIO, NOR
SPARKLING LIKE AQUARIUS, NOR IMPISH LIKE GEMINI,
TAURUS EYES ARE PENETRATING AND THOUGHTFUL.
AND THEY CAN MAKE YOU FEEL AS IF THEY ARE SEEING
INTO YOUR VERY SOUL.
—Fearless Astrology
As soon as we returned to the dorms after the ghost tour, I’d gotten to work on my laptop and done some hasty investigating.
Online search: Henry Jaffa, author, February 14.
Online answer: Sun Sign, Aquarius.
Make that, another Aquarius. Another analyzer. Another want-to-change-the-worlder. Another same sign as mine. Please let him like my astrology slant. I had reworked my article outline. It was now called “Beyond the Sun: Understanding True Character through Astrology.” I threw the “True” in there because of what I had discovered when trying to define Hamlet as a Sun sign only. The change would make my paper deeper, and I couldn’t wait to get started on it. With Henry Jaffa on my side—which he would soon be—maybe I’d have a chance to publish my piece.
I stumbled out of bed into a day that smelled fresh and full of promise. The sea air and waves had soothed me to sleep last night, and I woke with the realization that my life was not over just because Vanessa from TexASS disliked me. Jaffa was the one who mattered. He had mentioned that he took a morning run on the beach every day, and I was tempted to do the same. Not yet, though. It would be too obvious.
After looking at my class information, I matched faces to names. The redheaded twins from New York were Darla and Andrea. Critter’s roommate with the shaved head was Brad, known as Brad Dog.
Only a mile from Monterey Bay, the campus was located on what used to be Fort Ord, an army base that closed in the mid-nineties.
“I’ve heard that this place is haunted,” Candice said as we walked to class. Her hair was perfect, in spite of the breeze, and although she had tried to help me with mine, it was impossible and frizzy as ever.
“Monterey is big on ghosts,” I told her. “That’s probably why Jaffa’s so interested in teaching here.”
“That’s my article topic,” she said. “The ghosts of downtown Monterey. My oldest sister is an English major, but she’s never been in a national anthology.”
Neither had I, and as she spoke, I realized that we were all in competition here, only that the competition was more blatant than it was in school. Only one of us, if that, would end up in the anthology.
“I think it’s a great topic,” I said.
“Your new friend certainly doesn’t seem interested in ghosts.” Candice nudged me. “Speaking of . . .”
I turned to see Jeremy behind us on the path.
“Hey, Logan.”
Wearing the Writers Camp tee and a pair of jeans, he was even better looking in the morning light. The breeze that was already cutting through my layered clothing didn’t seem to bother him.
“Hi,” I called back, and he hurried to catch up with us.
Candice gave me a knowing grin. “See you,” she said.
That left Jeremy and me face to face. The wind terrorizing my hair seemed to only toy with his.
He pushed a chunk out of his eyes and said, “I was hoping to run into you.”
“You were?”
“Yeah.” He moved so close to me that I was afraid to breathe. “I’m sorry I was an ass last night.”
I started to tell him he wasn’t an ass, but amended it to, “That’s okay.”
“It was a long flight from Jersey,” he said, “and, to be honest, I’m not into this Ghostbuster stuff.”
“Then why’d you want to study with Jaffa?” I asked. “Didn’t you know about his new project?”
“Sure, I knew. But he’s still Henry Jaffa, and I’d give anything to work with him.”
At last, common ground.
“Me too.” I tried to slow my voice and my heartbeat. “What’s your topic?”
“Sean Baylor. I’m going to prove he isn’t just your basic Monterey ghost legend.” His smile was pure, fixed Earth. “What’s yours?”
Before I could decide whether or not to admit my fascination with astrology, Vanessa came rushing up to us. Make that, to him. She wore her oversize glasses like a headband.
“There you are, Jeremy. Hurry up. I saved you a seat. Oh, hi, Logan.” She squinted at my yellow hoodie, reached up for her shades, and slid them down over her eyes. “You’re certainly bright this morning.”
I took advantage of my analytical Aquarian nature and decided that there was no reason to strangle her just then.
Instead I said, “No need to rush. There are only twelve of us.”
“Works for me,” Jeremy said. “In that case, let’s get something to eat, maybe some coffee.”
Food again. He had to be a Taurus, just like my brownie-loving English teacher at home.
“Afraid I can’t, hon,” Vanessa said in a sugary drawl. “Henry just went in, and I need to talk to him.”
Henry? How blatant could she be?
“See you,” Jeremy said.
“Okay.” I took a deep breath and walked into the building alone.
I I had learned from an early age that, in any classroom, there are front-row kids and back-row kids. Since discovering Fearless Astrology, I’d started suspecting that a lot of the front-row kids were Fire signs, and a lot of the back-row kids were Water signs—with Air and Earth signs chiming in from various corners of the room.
Watery, emotional Pisces, Cancer, and Scorpio tended to hide, the way curly haired Critter and the shy brunette with long straight-cut bangs were doing, in the back of the room. The Air signs, Aquarius, Gemini, and Libra, tended to talk, so they didn’t care where they sat. The Earth signs of Taurus, Virgo, and Capricorn were so Fixed and reluctant to change that they didn’t care either—as long as it was the same seat they had occupied the last time. Fire signs Aries, Leo, and Sagittarius, tended to blaze their way to the front of any room lucky enough to have them in it. Or so they thought.
Sure enough, Vanessa was front and center, just opposite Jaffa’s podium. Candice sat at the end of the front row.
The back row was empty except for Tatiyana, the girl with the purple streak. She had made little horizontal cuts into her T-shirt—the seams, sleeves, and a couple of rows down the front—and wore it over a violet tank. Jeremy would probably end up hiding out back there, no matter how many seats Vanessa “saved” for him in front. For a moment I considered doing the same. Then I glanced up at Jaffa already at his desk. He wore a black turtleneck and jeans, his hair as untamed as ever.
He spotted me, and a wide smile spread across his professorish face. The Henry Jaffa was grinning at me as if we were old friends.
I took a deep breath, walked to the front of the room, continued the eye contact and said, “Good morning.”
“Hi,” Jaffa replied. “You’re Logan, right?”
I nodded and tried to forget that I was talking to one of the most famous writers in the country—a writer whose true-crime book on a strangler was going to be turned into a made-for-TV movie.
“Yes, I . . .”
“Have a seat.” He motioned in the general direction of the front row. I slid down into the seat beside my roomie Candice.
“Wow,” she whispered.
I didn’t dare look at Vanessa. I couldn’t begin to turn my head to see if Jeremy had come in.
“Shall we get started?” Jaffa said. “As you may know, I taught high school journalism prior to my writing career. I learned that a good journalist needs to do only three things in order to succeed. Be honest, be accurate, and be a good listener. That may be the toughest job of all, but if you listen, really listen, the other two rules will take care of themselves.”r />
I realized I was nodding.
“So you agree, Logan?” he asked.
I froze. I managed to nod again. “Yes.” My throat felt as if I’d swallowed sandpaper.
“Before we go on,” Jaffa said, “I’m sure you’ve all heard about the young adult anthology I’m editing.”
Had I ever. He was going to donate the proceeds to a literacy group—definitely a generous Aquarian gesture.
“So, what about it, Henry?” rude Vanessa asked.
“Because one of us might be in it,” Jeremy said.
My face was so hot that I didn’t dare turn around.
“That’s right.” Jaffa replied as if he’d heard my silent question. “I have permission from the publisher to include one student piece. I hope it comes from one of you. So, now, please turn in your article ideas.”
I noticed Vanessa scribbling something on a notebook page. Had she really failed to prepare for this workshop?
It didn’t matter now. I passed my sheet of paper toward the front of the room. Vanessa finished writing, ran to Jaffa’s desk, and slammed hers on top of the pile.
He didn’t seem to notice.
“Here’s what we’re going to do,” he said. “I believe the best way to hone your author voice is to get out of your comfort zone.”
Then, he grabbed the pile of papers from his desk, and tossed them up in the air.
“My topic!” Vanessa shouted.
“It’s here. Now, each of you pick up the paper closest to you.”
I reached down and picked up the neatly typed page that had slid under my desk.
“Ew,” Candice said, looking down at hers. “I don’t know anything about the Civil War.”
“I do,” Tati said. “But how to be a Broadway star? Give me a break.”
“That’s mine.” Vanessa’s voice was shrill.
“My point exactly,” Jaffa said. “Would you all read your topics, starting with you, Logan.”
I looked down at the page in my hands, evenly formatted into columns of type.
“Sean Baylor: Legend and Myth.”
“That’s mine.” Jeremy’s voice rang out from behind me.
I turned around. His expression was pure anger.
“It’s Logan’s now.”
“But I never even heard of the guy,” I said. “My subject is astrology.”
“Well, I have it now,” Vanessa said. “I can’t imagine anything more boring.”
“And I’ve got the downtown ghosts of Monterey.” Jeremy sounded disgusted. “I can’t . . .”
“Class!” Jaffa rose from his desk, as if pleased by our annoyance. “We write in order to discover. Please remember that. To discover. This exercise will make you better writers, I promise. And, yes, it will get each of you out of your comfort zone.”
Forget my comfort zone. How was I going to show what I could do as an astrology writer? That was how I had planned to impress Jaffa. Just as Fearless Astrology had hooked me, I had been certain my topic (now in the hands of Vanessa Clueless) would hook him. There had to be a way. Of course. I needed to write about Sean Baylor from an astrological perspective. That was it.
When the class ended, everyone was still grumbling.
Jeremy caught up with me outside. “You turned me down twice. I thought I’d try for coffee this time.”
I felt a little shiver and looked up into those riveting eyes again. Taurus eyes, I was betting.
Then, I glanced down at the cup in his hand. “You must be addicted.”
“I’m taking that as a yes,” he said. “For the coffee, I mean.”
“Sounds good,” I managed to reply.
We stopped at the snack bar, ordered, and took our drinks out onto the patio with its glimpse of the ocean. Even in summer, the air this close to the water was chilly. My senses seemed to slow down, as if photographing every moment. The biting cold breeze through my hoodie, the warm paper cup in my hands. Gull cries. The smell of coffee mixed with a soapy, masculine scent when he moved beside me.
“Beautiful,” he said. “Can you believe how close the beach is? I’m going to spend the rest of the afternoon out there.”
“It’s really isolated,” I said, “not like the beach at home.”
“I like the whole place. I could move here tomorrow.”
I loved the thoughtful, sincere way he talked, the careful manner in which he seemed to choose his words. “Would you do that?”
He nodded, and the breeze tangled his hair. “I graduated early and was accepted to college for the fall semester. But I wouldn’t let that stand in the way of something I wanted.”
“Do you mean . . . ?” Was he actually saying that he’d consider going to school here?
While I was still trying to figure that one out, he said, “Jaffa had no right to scramble our topics.”
Where had that come from?
“Maybe he knows something we don’t,” I said. “Maybe getting out of our comfort zones will make us better writers, the way he says it will.”
“I doubt it.” He took a swallow of coffee and moved closer to me. “You don’t care about Sean Baylor, do you?”
“Not really,” I admitted. “I don’t know anything about him.”
“That makes it simple. You don’t want to write about Baylor, and I do.”
I tried hard not to sound defensive. “I care about my topic, too, Jeremy, but a good writer should be able to write about anything, don’t you think?”
“Not if he’s trying to get published in a national anthology. I’ve studied Baylor’s music all of my life. I want to be a singer too.”
“You’re not an English major?” I asked.
“I’m a musician. My article in that anthology will be read by a lot of people. All I need is for the right person to read it.”
So he was hoping the anthology would launch his music career. His dreams were even bigger than mine. That made me like him more.
“Everyone in the class wants to be in the anthology,” I said. “I certainly do.”
He grinned, and his face seemed to light up. “Cool. Friendly competition, then.”
“Friendly competition,” I said, happy that we’d avoided an argument.
“I’m still going to write my article on Baylor.”
“How can you do that?”
He looked down at his cup, then at me. “I was thinking that we could just trade topics.”
“Jaffa would kick us out of class. I have to write about Sean Baylor, and you have to write about the ghosts of Monterey.” Then it hit me why the hottest guy in our workshop was pretending interest in me instead of Vanessa, who’d made it beyond clear that she was available. “Is that why you asked me to have coffee with you? So that you could talk me into trading topics?”
“I’m not going to lie. It’s one of the reasons. Not the only one, though.”
“I can’t do it, Jeremy.” How could I explain to him how hard I’d fought to get this far, and how important it was for me to convince Henry Jaffa that I was worthy of mentoring? “I wish I could. I really do.”
“So you’re not going to trade with me?”
“I can’t.”
“Fine.” He looked at me as if I were a stranger. “I’ll do what I have to.”
Then he turned and headed back toward the campus.
“You do that,” I shouted to his back.
The wind swallowed my words, but I already felt better. And, yes, I felt worse, too.
NOTES TO SELF
Well, this day certainly sucks. First my mentor-to-be shuffles our topics. Now, I’ve gone from competing with Vanessa for Jeremy to competing with Jeremy for an article topic. I can still see his dismissive expression when he realized I wasn’t going to trade with him, those veiled eyes. And I’m still betting that he’s an Earth sign, probably that proud, Fixed Bull. I’ll read up more after lunch with Candice. First, I just need to mull it all over. And right now, as much as I love being an Aquarius most of the time, I really hate that mullin
g-it-over aspect of my sign.
ARE YOU FIRE, EARTH, AIR, WATER?
By Logan McRae
Before you even attempt to guess someone’s sign, you need to figure out the element. Yes, “What’s your sign?” sounds way cooler than, “What’s your element,” but you need to start with the basics. Understanding your own element will also help you understand why you behave as you do. Each element has an up side and a down side, just as people do.
Fire
First, check out the body language. If someone is all over the place and trying to take charge—like the dreaded Vanessa—she is probably Fire. That means an Aries who wants to run everything but is often unable to be a finisher. A fiery Leo (like Nathan, my first and last boyfriend) wants to star in everything. A Sagittarius, with a mouth to rival Gemini’s, is too busy running and talking and everything-elsing to know what he wants. Fire signs can be energetic, attractive, generous, and fun. The world would be dull without them.
Earth
Earth signs are all seeking stability. When they have it, the Taurus will relax, the Virgo will stop nitpicking, and the Capricorn will discover that there is more to life than work. Earth signs are comforting and consistent. These no-nonsense types can never be accused of having their heads in the clouds.
They can be slow to respond to a question or to render an opinion. But once that question is answered and the opinion rendered, you can bet it’s forever.