Read Dawn Page 7


  "I heard that Mr. Moore is considering you for the solo at the concert," she said, her eyes small and watchful.

  "So?" My heart was pounding.

  "He's considering me, too."

  "That's nice. Good luck," I said and started into the room, but she grabbed my shoulder and spun me around.

  "Don't think you can come here and take over everything, you little charity case!" she cried.

  "I'm not a charity case!"

  Clara Sue inspected me from head to toe, releasing a disdainful sniff. "Stop deluding yourself, Dawn. You don't belong here. You're an outsider. You're not one of us. You never have been and you never will. You're just poor white trash from the wrong side of the tracks. Everyone in school knows that."

  "Yeah," Linda threw in. "You're nothing but poor white trash."

  "Don't you dare say such things to me!" I protested angrily, fighting back the tears I could feel forming in the corners of my eyes.

  "Why not?" Clara Sue asked. "They're true. Can't bear to hear the truth, Dawn? Well, it's about time you did. Who do you think you're fooling with your wide-eyed 'Miss Innocence' act?" she sneered. "If you think my brother is interested in you, you're nuts."

  "Philip likes me. He does!" I declared.

  Clara Sue raised an eyebrow. "I'll bet he does." There was an undertone to her words . . . an undertone I didn't like. "What are you talking about?" "My brother loves girls like you. He turns girls like you into mothers once a month."

  Linda laughed loudly.

  "Really?" I pushed my way to Clara Sue. "Well, I’ll just tell Philip you said so." My words wiped away Clara Sue's smile, and for an instant she looked panicked. Without giving her a chance to retaliate, I left Clara Sue and her hateful words.

  Philip did sit with me and Jimmy at lunch and spent a lot of time convincing Jimmy he should join the intramural basketball program. Jimmy was reluctant, but I could see that reluctance chipping away. I knew he liked basketball.

  "So?" Philip asked me as we started for class. "Have you decided yet?"

  I hesitated and then told him what had happened between Clara Sue and me in the morning. I didn't tell him exactly what she had said, however, just that she warned me against him.

  "That little . . . witch is the only word that fits her. Wait until I get my hands on her."

  "Don't, Philip. She'll just hate me more and try to make more trouble for me."

  "Then come with me for a ride," he said quickly.

  "That sounds like blackmail."

  "Yeah," he said, smiling, "but it's nice blackmail."

  I laughed. "Are you sure you can get me home early?"

  "Absolutely." He raised his hand. "On my honor."

  "All right," I said. "I'll ask my daddy."

  "Great. You won't regret it," Philip assured me. I was so nervous about it, however, that I almost forgot to show Mr. Moore my guitar. I was really walking in a daze when I entered his classroom and took my seat.

  "Is there really a guitar in there or is that just the case?" he asked when I didn't mention it.

  "What? Oh, it's a guitar!" I exclaimed. He laughed and asked me to play. Afterward he said I had done very well for someone without any formal lessons.

  The kind look in his eyes made me reveal my secret hope. "My dream is to learn how to play the piano and have one of my own some day."

  "I'll tell you what," he said, sitting forward and bracing his elbows on his desk so he could rest his chin on his clenched hands. "I need another flute player. If you'll take up the flute for the school orchestra, I'll spend three afternoons a week after school teaching you the piano."

  "You will?" I nearly jumped out of my desk.

  "We'll start tomorrow. Is it a deal?" he said, extending his hand over the desk.

  "Oh, yes," I said and reached out to shake. He laughed and told me I should meet him in the music rooms right after the last class of the day tomorrow.

  I couldn't wait to run down and tell Daddy. When I told Jimmy, I was worried he would be upset that he would have to wait alone for Daddy in Daddy's office those afternoons. He surprised me with an announcement of his own.

  "I've decided to join the intramural basketball program," he said. "One of the boys in my math class needs another guy on his team. And then I might join the cross-country team in the spring."

  "That's wonderful, Jimmy. Maybe we can make friends here; maybe we just met the wrong people yesterday."

  "I didn't say I was making friends," Jimmy replied quickly. "I just figured I could kill some time twice a week."

  Daddy wasn't around, so I asked Jimmy to tell him I had gone for a ride and Philip would take me home.

  "I wish you wouldn't get involved with that guy," Jimmy said.

  "I'm not getting involved, Jimmy. I'm just going for a ride."

  "Sure," Jimmy said and slumped down sadly in a chair. I ran back upstairs to meet Philip. He had a pretty red car with soft furry white sheepskin covers on the seats. He opened the door for me and stepped back.

  "Madam," he said with a sweeping bow.

  I got in and he closed the door. The car was even prettier inside. I ran my hand over the soft covers and looked at the black leather dashboard and gearshift.

  "You have a beautiful car, Philip," I told him when he got behind the steering wheel.

  "Thank you. It was a birthday gift from my grandmother."

  "A birthday gift!" How rich his grandmother must be, I thought, to give him a car as a present. He shrugged, smiled coyly, and started the engine. Then he shifted into gear and we were off.

  "How did you find this wonderful place, Philip?" I asked as we headed away from the school and in the opposite direction from where I lived.

  "Oh, I was just cruising by myself one day and came upon it. I like to go for rides and look at the scenery and think," he said. He made a turn off a main street and headed quickly down a road without many houses on it. Then he turned again, and we began to climb up a hill. "It's not much farther," he said. We passed a few houses as we continued to climb, and then Philip turned down a rather deserted road that ran along a field and into a patch of trees. The road was only gravel and rock.

  "You found this accidentally?"

  "Uh-huh."

  "And you haven't taken any other girl from Emerson Peabody up here?"

  "Nope," he said, but I was beginning to have my doubts.

  We drove through the small forest and came out on a clear field. There really wasn't any more road, but Philip continued over the grass until we came to the edge of the hill and could look out over the James River. Just as he promised, it was a spectacular view.

  "Well?"

  "Beautiful, Philip!" I exclaimed, drinking in the scene. "You were right."

  "And you should see it at night with the stars out and the lights of the city. Think I can get you out at night?" he asked, with a crooked smile.

  "I don't know," I answered quickly, but I harbored a hope. That would be more like a real date, my first real date. He edged closer to me, his arm over the top of the seat.

  "You're a very pretty girl, Dawn. The moment I saw you, I said to myself, there's the prettiest girl I've seen at Emerson Peabody. I'm going to get to know her as fast as I can."

  "Oh, lots of the girls at Emerson Peabody are prettier than me." I wasn't trying to be falsely modest. I had seen so many pretty girls with beautiful, expensive clothing. How could I compare to then? I wondered.

  "They're not prettier to me," he said. "I'm glad you transferred to our school." His fingers grazed my shoulder. "Have you had many boyfriends?" I shook my head. "I don't believe that," he said.

  "It's true. We haven't been able to stay in one place long enough," I added. He laughed.

  "You say the funniest things."

  "I'm not trying to be funny, Philip. It's true," I repeated, widening my eyes for emphasis.

  "Sure," he said, moving his fingers to my hair and tracing a strand with his forefinger. "You have the tiniest nose," he said and
leaned forward to kiss the tip of my nose. It took me by such surprise, l sat back.

  "I couldn't help it," he said and leaned forward again, this time to kiss my cheek. I looked down as his left hand settled on my knee. It sent a tingle up my thigh. "Dawn," he whispered softly in my ear. "Dawn. I just love saying your name. You know what I did this morning? I got up with the sunrise, just so I could see the dawn."

  "You didn't."

  "Yes, I did," he said and brought his lips to mine. I had never kissed a boy on the lips before, although I had dreamt about it. Last night I had fantasized about kissing Philip, and here I was doing it! It felt like dozens of tiny explosions all over my body, and my face grew hot. Even my ears tingled.

  Because I didn't back away, Philip moaned and kissed me again, harder this time. Suddenly I felt the hand that had been on my knee traveling up over my waist until his fingers settled around my breast. The moment they did, I pulled back and pushed him away at the same time. I couldn't help it. All the things I had heard about him flashed before my mind, especially Clara Sue's horrible threat.

  "Easy," he said quickly. "I'm not going to hurt you."

  My heart was pounding. I pressed my palm against my chest and took a deep breath.

  "Are you all right?"

  I nodded.

  "Didn't you ever let a boy touch you there before?" he asked. When I shook my head, he tilted his skeptically. "Really?"

  "Honest, no."

  "Well, you're missing it all then," he said, inching toward me again. "There's nothing to be afraid of," he coaxed, bringing his hand back to my waist.

  "Haven't you at least been kissed like that before?" he asked. His fingers started moving up my side. I shook my head. "Really?" He brought his hand firmly to the side of my breast. "Just relax," he said. "You don't want to be the only girl your age at Emerson Peabody who's never been kissed and touched like this, do you? I'll do it slowly, okay?" he said, barely inching forward over the top of my breast.

  I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. Once again he pressed his lips to mine.

  "That's it. Easy," he said. "See." The tips of his fingers surrounded a button on my blouse. I felt it open and then felt his fingers against my skin, moving like a thick spider in and under my bra. When the tips of his fingers found my nipple, I felt a surge of excitement that took my breath away.

  "No," I said pulling back again. My heart was pounding so hard, I was sure he could hear it. "I . . . we'd better start back," I said. "I've got to help Momma with dinner."

  "What? Help your mother with dinner? You're kidding. We just got here." He stared at me a moment. "You don't have some other boyfriend already, do you?"

  "Oh, no!" I said, nearly jumping out of my seat.

  He laughed and traced my collarbone with the tip of his forefinger. I felt his hot breath on my cheek. "Will you come back here with me one night?"

  "Yes," I said with abandon. He was so handsome, and despite my fears, his touch had made my stomach feel like butterflies were flying around in it.

  "Okay, let you slip out of my hands this time then," he said and laughed. "You're really cute, you know." He leaned over and kissed me quickly again. Then he lowered his eyes to my opened blouse and quickly buttoned it.

  "Actually, I'm glad you're shy, Dawn."

  "You are?" I thought he would hate me because I wasn't as sophisticated as most of the girls he knew at Emerson Peabody.

  "Sure. So many girls are know-it-alls these days. There's nothing fresh and honest about that. Not like there is about you. I wait to be the one who teaches you things, makes you feel things you've never felt before. Will you let me? Will you?" he pleaded with those soft blue eyes.

  "Yes," I said. I wanted to learn new things and feel new things and be just as grownup and sophisticated as the girls he knew at Emerson Peabody.

  "Good. Now, don't bring any other boys up here behind my back," he added.

  "What? I wouldn't."

  He laughed and got back behind the steering wheel. "You're definitely something else, Dawn. Something good," he added.

  I gave him the directions to take me home and finished buttoning my blouse.

  "Our section of town isn't very nice," I said, preparing him. "But we're only living there until Daddy can find something better."

  "Yeah, well," he said, looking at the houses along the streets in my neighborhood, "for your sake I hope that's not much longer. Don't you have any family here?" he asked.

  "No. Our family is all in Georgia, on farms," I replied. "But we haven't seen them for a while because we've been traveling a lot."

  "I've taken trips here and there," he said, "but summers, when most of the other kids go off to Europe or to other parts of the country, I have to remain in Cutler's Cove and help with our hotel," he said, smirking unhappily. He turned to me.

  "It's expected that someday I'll be the one to take it over and run it."

  "How wonderful, Philip."

  He shrugged.

  "It's been in our family for generations. It was started as just an inn way back when there were whalers and fishermen from everywhere. We've got paintings and all sorts of antiques in the attic of the hotel, things that belonged to my great-great-grandfather. Our family's just about the most important one in town, founding fathers."

  "It must be wonderful to have all of that family heritage," I said. He caught the note of longing in my voice.

  "What were your ancestors like?"

  What would I tell him? Could I tell him the truth—that I hadn't ever seen my grandparents, much less known what they were like? And how could I explain never seeing or knowing or ever hearing from any cousins, uncles, or aunts?

  "They were . . . farmers. We used to have a big farm with cows and chickens and acres and acres," I said, but I looked out my window when I said it. "I remember riding on the hay wagon when I was just a little girl, sitting up front with my grandfather, who held me in his arm while he held on to the reins. Jimmy would be in the hay, looking up at the sky. My grandfather smoked a corncob pipe and played the harmonica."

  "So that's where your musical talent comes from."

  "Yes." I continued spinning the threads of my fantasy, nearly forgetting as I went on that my words were as false as false could be. "He knew all the old songs and would sing them to me, one after the other, as we went along in his wagon, and at night, too, on the porch of our big farmhouse, while he rocked and smoked and my grandmother crocheted. The chickens would run loose in the front yard, and sometimes I would try to catch one, but they were always too fast. I can still hear my grandfather laugh and laugh."

  "I don't really remember too much about my grandfather, and I've never been very close to my grandmother. Life's more formal at Cutler's Cove," he explained.

  "Turn here," I said quickly, already regretting my lies.

  "You're the first girl I've driven home," he said.

  "Really? Philip Cutler, is that the truth?"

  "Cross my heart. Don't forget, I just got my license. Besides, Dawn, I can't lie to you. For some reason, it would be like lying to myself." He reached over and stroked my cheek so softly I could barely feel the tip of his finger. My heart dipped. Here he was being so thoughtful and truthful, and I was making up stories about my imaginary family, stories that made him sad about his own life, a life I was sure had to be a thousand times more wonderful than

  "Down this street," I pointed. He turned onto our block. I saw him grimace when he saw the cluttered lots and the sloppy front yards. "That's our apartment building just ahead, the one with the toy red wagon on the sidewalk?'

  "Thank you," I said as soon as he pulled up.

  He leaned over to kiss me, and when I leaned toward him, he brought his hand up to my breast again. I didn't pull away.

  "You taste real good, Dawn. You're going to let me take you for another ride soon, right?"

  "Yes," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. I gathered my books into my arms quickly.

  "Hey," he said,
"what's your telephone number?"

  "Oh, we don't have a phone yet," I said. When he looked at me strangely, I added, "We just didn't get around to it yet."

  I got out of the car quickly and ran to my front door, positive he saw through my foolish lie. I was sure he never wanted to see me again.

  Daddy and Momma were sitting at the kitchen table. Jimmy, who was on the couch, peered over a comic book at me.

  "Where you been?" Daddy asked in a voice that made me start.

  I looked at him. His eyes didn't soften, and there was that darkness around his face again, a darkness that made my heart pound hard and loud. "I went for a ride. But I got home early enough to help with dinner and Fern," I added in my own defense.

  "We just don't like you riding around with boys yet, Dawn," Momma said, trying to calm the treacherous waters of Daddy's anger.

  "But why, Momma? I bet the other girls my age at Emerson Peabody go for rides with boys."

  "That don't matter none," Daddy snapped. "I don't want you riding around with this boy anymore." Daddy looked up at me and his handsome face was lit with a fiery rage—my mind raced, searching desperately for a reason for Daddy's anger.

  "Please, Dawn," Momma said. It was followed with a cough that nearly took her breath away.

  I looked toward Jimmy. He had the comic book up high, so I couldn't see his face and he couldn't see mine.

  "All right, Mommy."

  "That's a good girl, Dawn," she said. "Now we can start on dinner." Her hands were shaking, but I didn't know what caused it—her coughing or the tension in the room.

  "Aren't you home early, Daddy?" I asked. I had hoped to beat him and Jimmy home anyway.

  "I left a little early. It don't matter. I ain't as crazy about this job as I thought I was," he said to my surprise. Had he found out what the girls had done to me? Did that turn him against the school?

  "Did you have a fight with Mrs. Turnbell, Daddy?" I asked, suspecting his temper had reared its ugly head.

  "No. There's just so much to do. I don't know. We'll see." He gave me a look that said there'd be no more talk about it. Since Daddy had started working at Emerson Peabody, these looks and his temper had disappeared. Suddenly it was all returning and I was frightened.