by Julia Day
I flopped into my seat and scowled at the back of his head.
Mundy was already there. “How was your date?”
“Amazing.”
“Did he ask you out again?”
I nodded.
“You don’t look happy.”
“Saturday is five days away.” I focused on her face. It seemed as if she’d been crying. “Is something wrong?”
“Grampa isn’t doing well.”
Before I could respond, Ms. Barrie stood. “Open your books…”
The rest of her statement was drowned out by the sounds of students following her instructions. I leaned over and whispered, “Hey, Mundy. I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do?”
She shook her head as she got out her book.
After talking with her between classes to arrange a coffee date later this week, I walked into statistics class. Written on the whiteboard was “Project Teams Today.”
Really? Ninety minutes, sitting beside him in a circle, trying to act normal? Not possible.
“Let’s get started,” Ash said, tapping his pencil on a notepad.
I sighed noisily.
He turned to me. “Is there a problem?”
Mundy’s distress had heightened mine. “Do you ever get tired of being in charge?”
Dev and Upala exchanged glances and then looked at Ash.
He kept his gaze on me. “Does someone else want to take over?”
There was silence.
He nodded at Dev. “Do you want to?”
“No, I’m good.”
Ash looked back at me. “Eden?”
I rolled my eyes. “Go ahead.”
The rest of the period didn’t get any better as frustration brought out the worst in me. I objected to whatever he said. Didn’t matter if it was lame or brilliant. I found flaws.
The rest of the team watched me in shock. I’d always been the stir-things-up-at-the-end girl. I had challenged Ash before, but never this much throughout. By the end of the period, all conversation had dropped to the two of us arguing and the other three staring at their notes.
When the bell rang, I leapt to my feet, pushed my chair back into its row, and took off for my lunch break.
Ash intercepted me in the hall outside the cafeteria, his entourage fanned out behind him. “Eden, got a moment?” His face was tight.
Dev and Upala openly grinned, as if he was a teacher who had the right to rip into me.
Yeah, I knew that was wrong. “Whatever.”
He placed a hand on my back and nudged me out of earshot.
“What was that all about?” His voice was low and controlled.
“Camouflage for what I really wanted.”
He studied my face for a long moment. “What did you really want?”
“To have your whole attention.”
“Oh, you had that.”
He deserved a better explanation, and I wanted to give him one. But what if it was too much, too soon? Insecurities bloomed inside me, and I forced them down into their corners. I had to trust this thing between us. Ash had asked me out on a second date. This wasn’t one-sided.
I stared at the top button of his shirt. “I wanted to be alone with you. I was afraid that my feelings would be obvious unless I hid them behind the pissy attitude.”
“I was fooled.”
“Good. Then the others were too.”
“Yes, they were. Eden?”
I raised my eyes. He wasn’t exactly smiling, but the tension had eased. “Yeah?”
“We’ll be alone Saturday. All day.”
“That’s a long way off.”
He glanced at his friends and back at me. “How are you getting home today?”
Okay, this might have potential. “The bus.”
“I can take you.”
My dad would be around. I couldn’t let him see us together, but turning down a few minutes with Ash? Not going to happen. “You could take me to the nursing home.”
“When does your stepmom’s shift end?”
“At four today.”
His lips curved into a wide smile, slow and sexy. “Then we’ll have to think of something to do for an hour.”
Holy shit. I’d better leave before I flung myself into his arms. I started to back away. “We could discuss those lame ideas you suggested in statistics.”
“Lame?” His eyes narrowed. “I thought you said that was camouflage.”
“My attitude was, but your proposal sucks.” I yanked open the cafeteria door and slipped inside, happy that we didn’t have to wait until the weekend to be together.
* * *
I quickly learned that Ash’s school nights were tightly scheduled. Since I spent mine on homework and babysitting, hanging out during the week would be a challenge.
It didn’t take long to discover that there was virtually no place on campus where a couple could be alone, especially when the two people involved had the Honors Committee scrutinizing all aspects of their lives. Heron High’s administration had my respect for how well patrolled the facilities were.
Fortunately, Ash and I were the two smartest students at the school. We were creative. We were figuring things out.
Like … Tuesday. I stuffed a change of clothes into my backpack and then hid with Ash in an obscure corner of the town park until I had to leave for the Fremonts. He told his parents he was studying with a friend.
Yeah, we were studying all right. Just not academics.
There were moments when I didn’t recognize myself and wondered if my classmates had noticed too. Maybe I should blame it on Mundy. I had purple toenails, which made me bold. And a guy who thought I was beautiful, which made me bolder. Could anybody tell the difference?
Thursday after school, Sawyer flagged me down on the front sidewalk. “How are things going?” he asked when he caught up.
There we had it. Proof. I was open to the universe, and Sawyer could tell. “Things are good. What about you?”
“Fine.” He strolled beside me, slapping one fist against the other palm. He looked at me and immediately looked away, as if he was ramping up the courage to say something big, which intrigued me, since we’d known each other long enough that he should’ve been comfortable with babbling about anything.
“Would you say that you’re good friends with Mundy Cruz?”
“Yes.” It was a rhetorical question. Sawyer saw us everywhere together.
“I think she’s amazing. And hot.” He stopped, his face split by a wide grin. “And amazing.”
Oh, man, he had it bad. I could empathize. “I’m guessing you think she’s amazing.”
“Yeah. Is she dating anyone?”
“No.” Uh-oh. My heart sank. I could feel what was coming.
“Does she ever talk about me like—you know?”
She hadn’t mentioned him in that way. Not once. Should I give him false hope?
Much as I hated to be the person to squash him, I couldn’t bring myself to lie. “No. Do you want me to ask her?”
His smile twisted. “No. Thanks.”
I watched him walk away, his attitude dejected, and it made me sad. I was adored by someone, and I wanted everybody else to be adored too. Maybe I should drop a few hints with Mundy anyway, even if she had said Sawyer wasn’t her type.
Ash had never been mine either, until he was.
“Eden?” Upala stepped in front of me, a determined look on her face.
Every muscle in my body locked down. I would not react. I would not give into the desire to run screaming away and not listen to whatever she had to say, because there could only be one purpose for her to approach me. And if she expected to learn anything about that topic, she would leave disappointed. “Uh-huh?”
“What’s going on with you and Ash?”
“Ask him.”
“We have. He won’t say.”
“I won’t either.”
She shook her head, her eyes pitying. “No matter what it is, it can’t last. When his parents fin
d out, they’ll stop it.”
The statement echoed inside me, unwanted but familiar. I’d had the same thought often. “Why haven’t you told them your suspicions?”
“The members of our study group have many secrets. We’re hoping that Ash gets tired of you before any of us risk speaking out.”
Mutual blackmail. Nice. “Thanks for the warning.” I turned to go.
She reached for me. I gaped at the sight of her fingers wrapped around my wrist.
Upala looked down, too, and gasped. She jerked her hand away, as if afraid of being contaminated.
I kept walking.
“You are not worthy of him.”
I paused and glanced over my shoulder. “Who could be?” Her eyes narrowed in surprise. I gave her a nod and continued down the sidewalk.
Not worthy. As hard as I tried to shield myself from that idea—to reject it from my body—the damn thing snuck back, doing its best to worm its way inside.
No. She was wrong. They were all wrong. Ash and I were good together. I wouldn’t give up that easily.
* * *
The computer lab was deserted when I entered it before school Friday morning. Not even Mrs. Barber had arrived yet. The custodian let me in before disappearing through the emergency exit door for a cigarette break.
I booted one of the desktop computers and combed through my webmaster e-mail. There were several messages from Tiffany, each with attachments.
“They’re candids,” she said from behind me.
“Yeah, I can see that.” The volume of images made me tired, and it also pissed me off that Tiffany had managed to slip into the lab without me noticing. “Why don’t you tell me your favorites?”
“The third one.”
I clicked it open. It was a shot of the dance team, moments before they were about to run onto the football field at a halftime show. One of the girls looked like she was about to have a meltdown and several others had gathered around, giving her a pep talk. The color, the lighting, and the framing of this image were all wonderful. Tiffany was improving with every photo she took. “That one is good,” I said and uploaded it to the web site’s staging area for Mrs. Barber’s approval. “You get better at telling a story with each shot.”
“I’ve been thinking I might be good at photojournalism.” She eyed me warily. “They have it as a major at Carolina.”
“Is that why you want the Peyton?”
“If I won the Peyton, I could study abroad. Daddy would never pay for me to do that.”
“I can imagine.” I felt a twinge of sympathy for her. Her parents had a decent amount of money, but that didn’t matter when her father ruled the checkbook.
“Look at the last image, Eden.” Her voice held a weird edge.
When I opened it, I instantly knew why Tiffany was nervous about my reaction, and she was right to be.
This shot had been taken during the fire drill on Wednesday afternoon. Students were standing outside the main building. There was a small group of emos looking bored. A couple who looked as if they were on the verge of a breakup. Two kids standing in their own isolated worlds, one defiant, one simply alone.
Yet all of those students served as a mere backdrop for the two couples in the right foreground.
Mundy was pretending to punch Sawyer in the arm while he was giving her a mock scowl. I was trying not to laugh. Ash was watching me with unguarded adoration.
I shivered. The photo was layered and charming and the most nuanced thing Tiffany had ever done. The kind of shot that could get her some attention. No way could I allow its use. “There are five students at the high school who haven’t signed a photo release,” I said as I deleted the image. “One of them is me.”
“You can give permission.”
“I could, but I won’t.” I logged out of the mail app.
“Eden, I need this for my portfolio.”
“You know I would rather take the pictures than be in them.”
“You can make an exception. It’s the best thing I’ve ever done.”
She was right. If only it hadn’t included me and Ash. That look on his face? Both beautiful and disastrous. “You’ll take others.”
Clogs clip-clopped into the lab. “What’s going on?” Mrs. Barber slurped from her coffee mug.
“Eden won’t upload my best candid.”
Mrs. Barber quirked an eyebrow at me in question.
“I’m recognizable.” I cut a glance at Tiffany. “I could crop myself out of it.” As well as Ash.
She looked horrified. “No. The composition would be ruined.”
“Then we’re done here.” I slung my backpack over my shoulder and stepped past my teacher.
“Aunt Gina!”
“I’m sorry, Tiff,” I heard Mrs. Barber say as I left the room. “There’s nothing I can do.”
19
Marginally Perpendicular
Saturday morning, Dad dropped me off at the Fremonts on his way to work. Once his car had disappeared around the corner, I jogged the half mile to the gazebo. Ash was waiting for me. Hello there kissing ensued under the domed platform.
He spoke nonstop on the drive to Jacksonville. I didn’t mind. I basked in the warmth of his voice, didn’t pay much attention to what he said, and focused instead on the touch of his fingers curled around mine.
A light drizzle was falling when we parked at the mall. Ash clasped my hand and ran with me through a back entrance. He took us straight to center court, stopped, and smiled expectantly, his body humming with excitement.
“What?” I scanned the scene. Shoppers milled around, dragging cranky kids. Marines from Camp Lejeune clogged the food court.
“The rink?”
The mall had a small ice-skating rink with a half-dozen people looping around. “What about it?”
“Let’s go.”
“Uh…” I eyed it warily. “I’ve never tried.”
“You’ll be fine. I’ll be beside you.”
Ten minutes later, we were on the ice, both standing, him because he was crazy-good, me because he was holding me up.
“What do you think?” he asked after we completed our first lap without mishap.
“Still not sure.”
“Let’s see how you do on your own.” He gave a little push and released me.
I slid forward a few yards, arms outstretched. Slowing to a stop, I concentrated on his instructions to move again. Push left. Push right.
Yay. My head was still five feet above the ice. I wanted to tuck my freezing hands into the pockets of my jacket, but I was afraid to move my upper body in any way.
“Keep going,” he yelled.
I nodded over my shoulder at him. Catastrophe struck so fast, I had no chance to react. My skates went up. My ass and head went down. Bang.
Déjà vu. I lay flat on my back with Ash bent over me, offering to help—except this time, the “floor” was frozen.
He lifted me onto my skates. “Are you all right?”
“Maybe.” I clutched his hoodie, sorry that I was too sore to enjoy the excuse for exploring his chest.
“I won’t let go again, not until you’re positive you’re ready.” He brushed icy slush from my butt. I was too sore to enjoy that either.
A grunt was the only reply he got from me. It took all of my concentration to keep myself above the ice.
We pushed off again, arms intertwined. There was, I soon figured out, feminine-wiles value in clinging to him with helpless abandon. But my natural competitiveness eventually took over. I wanted to be good.
After three laps around the rink, I graduated to holding hands with Ash as he skated backwards in front of me. Since I now felt secure, this was fun. Skating was oddly isolating for us. Even with dozens of other people on the ice, we were alone in our own little world.
I had reached enough of a comfort level to risk looking at him instead of my feet. “Where did you learn to skate so well?”
“Boston.” He smiled. “You’re doing fine.”
An out-of-control skater swooped past, surprising us with a near miss. To avoid a collision, Ash changed course without warning. When I balked, our hands separated. Before I realized what had happened, I was on my own, wobbling but marginally perpendicular to the ice.
I smiled at him, childishly pleased. “I didn’t fall.”
“Staying upright is an important goal in skating.”
“A goal I have achieved.” I gestured him closer. “Don’t disappear, though.”
“I won’t.” He drew up beside me, adapting to my pace.
One more incident-free lap gave me the confidence I needed to attempt a conversation. “How long did you live in Boston?”
“Fourteen years.”
I would’ve never guessed. He didn’t have a Yankee accent at all. “Were you born there?”
He nodded. “My mom went to med school at Harvard.”
Ah, yes. My stepmom cleaned toilets. My bio mom married men. Ash’s mother saved lives. Lovely. “Why did your family move here?”
“One of my sisters lives in Wilmington. My parents wanted to be closer to Priya and Raj.”
“You have more than one sister?”
“Yeah. My middle sister lives in Charleston. She and my parents aren’t communicating well right now.”
“Why?”
“Neela is living with her boyfriend.”
An odd thought struck me, which I blurted without thinking. “Did your parents have an arranged marriage?”
“They did, but it was arranged in America since they were both here.”
“Will they expect it of you?”
He looked away from me. “Your turn, Eden. Where were you born?”
So arranged marriage was something he didn’t want to discuss. I was filing the topic away for later. “I was born on Wrightsville Beach.”
“On the beach?”
“Yeah. I arrived quickly. A paramedic delivered me.”
“When’s your birthday?”
“March twentieth. Why do you want to know?”
“That should be obvious.” He took off and raced ahead of me. After performing a couple of show-off maneuvers, he returned. “Ready for some speed?”
