I stepped quickly back to my seat. While my friends tried to muffle their explosive laughter, Cici whispered, “He watched you the whole time they worked on your eyes. I think he knows you.” I glanced over my shoulder to see if he was still watching, but he’d plugged his headphones into his ears, leaned his head back against the seat, and closed his eyes.
Grace interrupted my thoughts, asking bluntly, “Have you talked to Jason since you pushed him in the pool?”
“No! Are you kidding?” Only Cici knew Jason had sent me dozens of texts every day since then and that I’d ignored them all.
“I heard he was just comforting Kara because her puppy died,” said Meri.
Grace pouted her lips. “Oh, poor, poor Kara in her teeny tiny white bikini. Look, do you want us to tell him you don’t want to talk to him?”
I looked out the window. “No,” I answered miserably. I’d have to talk to Jason sooner or later. Leo, snickered behind us. He thought the whole situation was funny. Worse, I knew he was right. But when I’d seen my boyfriend, holding hands with Kara, his ex-girlfriend, whispering in her ear, sitting with his back to me next to the pool, fully clothed, the urge to play “Dunk the Dick” had been overwhelming. Unfortunately, Leo had witnessed the whole thing. And told everyone.
By the time the bus rolled up in front of the school, my heart was racing again, but I remembered my early morning message on the radio. Just thinking about the song, “Turn the Page,” slowed my heart back down.
Baby, it’s gonna be okay.
Baby? Was that the line? Oh hell, did it matter? I stood up and took one last look behind me to see if I recognized Meri’s mascara retriever. He was too busy stuffing his headphones into his backpack to notice me staring. I searched my brain, absently rubbing my wrists and recalling the subtle, static-like feel of his touch. It was there, some memory of him, but it kept slipping away as if it didn’t quite fit into the current picture. It would come to me. I slung my backpack over my shoulder and followed my friends off the bus.
Our high school was a squat, two-story, brick building built smack in the middle of a working class Cleveland suburb. Orderly rows of glass windows fanned out from the main entrance, which was cast in shadow under an enormous concrete overhang. The cantilevered concrete was embellished simply with a copper cross within a sunburst. A sword slashed through the base of the cross, and next to it, also in copper, were the words:
Saint Joan of Arc High School
“I place trust in God, my creator, in all things; I love him with all my heart.”
--Saint Joan of Arc
1412-1431
As I passed into the cool shadow near the doors, I stopped and looked for Cici to see if she needed help, but she’d already found her friends. I smiled, glad she was here at school with me. We shared a study hall on Friday at the end of the day, and we looked forward to spending it together.
Meri and Grace waited inside, motioning impatiently for me to join them.
“Has anyone seen Finn and the guys?” Meri asked. She bounced up and down, trying to see over the wall of bustling students that surrounded her. Patrick Finnegan and Meri DiMaro had been going out since the first day of freshman year, and Grace and I had adopted his friends as our own. We did almost everything with Finn, Spencer and J.C., even going out with them on and off, but fate kept interfering, and whatever couple formed always ended up just friends again. They were like brothers now, teasing us mercilessly and waiting to drive off any undeserving guy who showed any interest in us.
Seeing Meri look for Finn reminded me to be on the lookout for Jason. As I scanned the hall, a tall, lanky figure with red hair swooped in behind Meri and caught her up in his wiry arms. Spencer and J.C. were close behind.
“Hey! Put me down!” Meri laughed. Instead, Finn buried his face in her shiny, shoulder-length hair and nibbled her neck. “Finn! Stop! You pervert!”
Finn ignored her protests.
“A little help?” she pleaded with Spencer, who at six foot two, could still look down at her even though she was hoisted up to Finn’s eye level.
“Hey now, a dude don’t get between a bro and his, er…girlfriend.” He crossed his arms over his chest. J.C. crossed his arms over his chest, too, shaking his head in solidarity. Nice. Peer pressure at its finest.
Unfortunately, the boys hadn’t noticed the principal, who stood behind them.
“Mr. Finnegan! That is an entirely unacceptable public display of affection!”
Finn reluctantly set Meri down on her feet, winked at us, and then turned around to face the tiny, gray-haired woman who was barking at him. “Aw, Sister Lawrencia, I haven’t seen her for days! I was just trying to let her know how much I missed her.”
Sister Lawrencia waved dismissively at Finn and squinted through watery eyes at Meri. “Everything all right, Merideth?”
Meri bit back a grin. “Sure, Sister. Thanks.”
“All right, then. Come with me, Mr. Finnegan.”
Finn mouthed “See you later” to Meri and then followed the small, blue suit clad nun, who was making a beeline for the office.
“Busted!” howled J.C. after him.
“How much time you think he gets?” Spencer laughed.
J.C. stood for Juan Carlos Aquila, and his deep brown eyes crinkled as he grinned. “A lot. That was a pretty flagrant PDA.”
Meri stared after Finn, shaking her head in disbelief. “He never learns.”
Spencer smiled very sweetly down at her. “That’s why we keep him around, Mer. He’s like a diversion for the rest of us.”
Meri punched his arm.
“Dude, don’t go physically assaulting me, or I’ll have to call Sister Larry back.” Meri narrowed her eyes. Spencer backed up. “Right…time to go,” he said to J.C., and the two boys took off down the hall, almost taking out a small herd of freshman as they rounded the corner.
Grace and I dropped our stuff off at our lockers and headed to homeroom, which we shared. I wouldn’t see Meri again until the end of the day. Our schedules diverged widely this year, with Grace and me taking mostly math and science courses and Meri spending more of her time in the Art Annex.
We arrived in homeroom just as the last bell rang to find Spencer sitting in the middle row flirting with some girls I knew. Shawn Fowler sat in the back.
I slid into the seat next to Spencer. “Hey, Spence. I didn’t know you were in here.”
He pulled his attention away from the girls just long enough to say “hey.” Spencer was on the hunt for his next ex-girlfriend, his favorite sport after basketball.
The announcement bells rang. “Welcome to a new year here at Saint Joan,” droned Sister Lawrencia over the loud speaker. “Let us begin with a prayer. In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit…” My mind wandered as she went on and on, praying for blessings, guidance, and strength for all sorts of trials we might face this year. She finished with an appeal to God and his Angels to watch over us and a reminder that Club Day was Friday. Then the burly teacher at the front of the class addressed us.
“Everyone rise so I can evaluate your conformity to the dress code.”
There was a collective groan from the class as chairs scraped backwards, and students shuffled to their feet. She grabbed a yardstick off her desk and moved up and down the aisles, appraising each student. I went through the standards in my head. White blouse tucked in, plaid skirt less than two inches above the knee, white knee socks pulled up over my calves—can’t show off those sexy calves—and only one earring per ear. I felt my earlobes to make sure I’d taken out the extra earrings that morning. Then I glanced around at the rest of the class.
Several boys were stuffing their shirts into their pants, and a few of the girls were inching their skirts as far down over their hipbones as they dared. Despite their efforts, two girls were admonished about the shortness of their skirts. One boy’s hair was too long. Those kids were lucky. They would just have to make the corrections tonight and bring forms signed
by their parents tomorrow. The boy who forgot his tie, however, was sent to the office to wear whatever tie Sister Larry had requisitioned for such a dire situation.
When the teacher reached Shawn Fowler at the back of the class, my thoughts unexpectedly turned to the new boy I’d met on the bus, the one with the soft, familiar eyes and the forbidden tattoo. I didn’t think his short sleeves would shield him from discovery, and I shuddered to think how the administration would make him conform. They couldn’t possibly require the tattoo be removed, could they? Why hadn’t he thought to wear long sleeves today? It was such a simple solution. I was still inexplicably lost in thought about him when the bell rang signaling the end of the period.
The rest of the morning passed with no Jason sightings. Four periods down, four to go. I hoped my luck would hold. At lunch, I missed having Meri around. It was too bad our schedules didn’t match up, but with Finn talking about her every second, she might as well have been there. J.C. and Grace finally told him to shut up.
My luck ran out as I cleaned up my lunch. Jason was weaving his way toward me through the crowd in the cafeteria. Crap, I wasn’t ready for this. I got up and made for the trashcan near the exit, but Jason was quicker and cut me off.
“Cate! Wait!”
My face grew hot. People turned to watch and whisper.
“Look, later…okay?” I pleaded.
His ice-blue eyes flashed angrily. “No. I’ve been trying to talk to you all week! Why won’t you talk to me? First you—”
“Just…wait, not here. Call me tonight, okay? I’ll pick up.”
“No. I’ll drive you home.” It wasn’t a question. “Meet me at the front doors after school.” He turned and left without a backward glance. Behind me, a girl whispered, “Leo’s friend said she shoved him in the pool when she caught him with Kara. Psycho.”
Another girl whispered back in a voice meant to carry, “What does Jason even see in her?” Then she laughed. “If he were mine, he wouldn’t be cheating. I know what he needs.”
I hugged my books tight to my chest, resisting the urge to turn and hurl one at her face. Instead, I walked away, cursing myself again for losing my temper at the pool.
As bad luck would have it, Jason and I had the next two classes together, Honors Algebra II and Computer Lab, and even though I caught him watching me a few times, he didn’t say anything. I didn’t know if he was respecting my wishes or was just too mad to speak. How did I get myself into these messes? After the final bell rang, I asked Meri and Grace to make sure Cici got home okay and then walked toward the front of the building, nervous sweat prickling under my arms.
Jason King turned sixteen at the end of the summer and he already had his license and his mom’s old car. To her credit, it wasn’t a minivan or a clunky SUV but a practically brand new, black Audi coupe. She gave it to him when she bought her new maroon Mercedes. Yeah. The Kings had money.
As I neared the front doors, someone shouldered past me, knocking my books out of my hands. I squatted to pick them up, cursing under my breath, and heard a mumbled “Sorry.” A hand appeared to help me. I twisted to see who it was and found myself looking up into the face of the blonde boy from the bus.
His eyes widened, like he was surprised to see me. Then his expression hardened. He shoved one of my books at me. “Take it,” he said, roughly pressing it into my chest. “Take it!” As my hands closed around it, I wondered what the hell I’d done to piss him off, but before I could ask, he stood and pushed through the crowd, pausing for only a second to rip off a large bandage taped to the top of his arm and hurl it into a trashcan by the entrance. Then, I knew. They’d made him wear the monster bandage to cover up his tattoo. How humiliating. And though I didn’t even know him, I felt a strong urge to run after him and make sure he was alright.
But Jason was there to help me to my feet. “Let’s go,” he said.
We walked in silence to the car. He unlocked the door, and I slid onto the black leather seat, which was scorching hot from baking in the summer sun all day. He got in on the driver’s side, unrolled all the windows and flicked the air-conditioning on high.
“Do you think it makes sense to turn on the air with the windows down?” I asked without thinking. Jason gave me a withering look. Then he put the car in drive and steered out of the parking lot as The Blackout’s “Wolves,” a song I happened to love, growled its way out of the Audi’s high-end speakers. I waited for him to change the station. Jason didn’t like my darker, edgier taste in music, preferring instead his chest thumping hip hop.
Today, though, he opted for silence and switched the radio off. Without missing a beat, he glanced sideways at me, asking, “So…what’s up?” He raised his eyebrows expectantly. He wasn’t giving anything away. Nice play. He’d put me on the defensive right off the bat. I should have expected that.
Jason King was smart, the smartest guy I knew, and with computers he was brilliant. We became friends while working on the same freshman service project. A few weeks after he broke up with Kara, he came over to help me load some new software on my computer. He was miserable, and being the kind and helpful person that I am, I tried to comfort him. I had always thought he was hot—blue eyes, dark hair, athletic build, knew the meaning of the word bibliophile. Jason had to be the only guy I knew who’d suggest we read Paradise Lost out loud to each other, which we actually did over the summer, for extra credit. Too bad he had that player reputation.
In the end, it didn’t matter. I was hooked.
Comforting words turned into consoling hugs, consoling hugs turned into soothing kisses, and soothing kisses turned into never explored before, no holds barred make out sessions in his glorious, queen-sized bed and…okay Cate, you can stop thinking about that now.
Chemistry wasn’t our problem.
“Cate?” Jason asked. I shook my head to clear it.
“Um, Jason, I’m really sorry about last week. It’s just that when I saw you with Kara at the pool when you said you were busy, I was mad. You lied, and it really pissed me off.”
“Yes. I should know better than to light up that temper of yours. Swing first and ask questions later. Isn’t that your motto?”
“At least I listen to the answers…eventually,” I shot back.
That was our problem. We fought. Not just over music, but over everything. Jason had opinions on top of opinions, and they were always better than mine, in his opinion, of course. I’d always thought I was pretty smart, but Jason read voraciously—philosophy, the classics, history—and he was always pulling some obscure quote out of left field to back up what he said. I couldn’t compete with that, and the constant bickering was wearing me down. On top of that, I knew deep down he still had a thing for Kara. So, though the chemistry between us was hard to resist, I’d planned on breaking up with him even before the whole pool fiasco. And for my own sake, I needed to do it today.
“Cate, I was just holding her hand. She was upset—”
“You can’t tell me you don’t still have feelings for her. You see her almost as much as you see me.”
He pulled up in front of my house, put the car in park, leaned over the gear shift and dropped his voice into that self-assured, throaty growl he knew I loved. “And you can’t tell me you don’t still have feelings for me.”
Shit, I had to get out of the car before I did something stupid. I reached behind me, opened the door, slid out of the car, and then slammed the door shut. “I…don’t.” I said through the open window.
“So let me get this straight. You pushed me in the pool because you were jealous, even though you don’t like me anymore? You’ve got some serious issues.”
It was true. I definitely had issues. I nodded and lowered my head. Despite everything, I was pissed at myself for losing my temper, and I waited for further chastisement. Perhaps flogging would come next. I looked up when it didn’t come. He was staring out the driver’s side window, rubbing his forehead. In a strained voice almost too low for me to hear, he murmure
d, “Ah…maybe it’s for the best.”
“I’m really sorry, Jason.” I said, backing away from the car.
“Wait. Just…wait a sec.” I leaned back in through the passenger window, not sure what was coming next. “Look, I should have told you I was going to meet Kara. She just sounded so desperate on the phone.”
Of course, always desperate. I had to fight to keep from rolling my eyes.
“And maybe you weren’t so far off the mark last week. Maybe I do still have some feelings for her.” He turned to look at me. “And pushing me in the pool—Kara really feels sorry for me right now. Cate, are you sure this is what you want?”
“Yeah, Jason, it’s okay.”
“So…friends?”
“Friends,” I agreed.
Jason reached to put the car in drive, smiled, and then chuckled. “But you owe me a cell phone. Mine was in my pocket when you, um…” He let the statement dangle. I made a face, but nodded.
As he drove off, I smiled to myself, feeling warm and fuzzy, realizing that everything really had turned out okay, just like the song promised. Yeah, sure, I was certifiable. Nonetheless, Blue Pantaloons’ “Turn the Page” was officially added to my Playlist.
So. Now that my Jason problem was solved, my thoughts turned to the new mystery in my life. Who was that boy in the white Converse shoes?
TWO
THE BOY IN THE WHITE
CONVERSE SHOES
MY BEDROOM USED to be pink. Cinderella pink. Now it was a more mature, pale yellow, and my princess decorations were stored away. I’d left only my Guardian Angel statue out on my dresser. I told myself my Angel didn’t count as a princess. She had a job to do.
The sun reflected off the walls, creating a warm pool of light on Cici’s white comforter. Curled up in the light puddle were Lucky and Big Fat Maxwell, our two cats we’d rescued as kittens from a shelter. Maxwell was white and well fed, with a princely orange spot splattered across the top of his head. Lucky, his little brother, was a rangy tabby with a rabid taste for wild chipmunk. As I plopped down on the bed to pat the two sleeping felines, Cici slipped into the room.
The Guardian's Playlist Page 2
