"What was it?" Theo sat up on her hands, blades of grass sticking up between her fingers.
"My parents and I went out to dinner, and I saw Principal McPherson there."
"You mean he eats like a normal person?" she quipped.
"Maybe. He was sneaking around, having some kind of weird meeting behind a closed door. There were three or four other people with him, but I couldn't identify their voices."
"Even out of school he can't stop having meetings," Theo observed.
"But it wasn't normal, Theo. They weren't talking about budget cuts or banning books. There was something wrong about it. I can't put my finger on it, but he was being really suspicious." I felt like I sounded really paranoid...maybe Theo would think I was weird for paying attention to McPherson at all.
"What do you think he was up to?"
"I don't know. But I intend to find out."
###
I paced back and forth in my room on Sunday, my phone in my clenched fist. I had been repeating the same routine for twenty minutes. Maybe the number was fake? Walk, pause, look at phone, walk. Maybe Henry offering me his number was some horrible prank that Lainey and Madison concocted over a tanning session.
Finally, pushing my paranoia aside, I typed out a text and forced my thumb to hit send. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Except possible humiliation. Having the text forwarded to everyone in school....
The phone shook in my hand. Every second I waited for a reply, I grew more anxious. Thirty seconds later, the phone vibrated. I almost dropped it on the cement floor.
Tomorrow after school is good, he replied to my suggestion.
I let out a relieved breath and sank down beside my bed. What was I doing? Maybe I was just distracting myself.
###
When I went to sleep that night, I had a different kind of dream. Henry was standing at the end of a thin ribbon of sidewalk, waiting patiently. Waiting for me. His held on to one wrist with his other hand, his posture unusually formal. A pale gray suit, fitted perfectly to his slender, athletic frame, replaced his usual sweatshirt and jeans.
It was springtime around us, petals lazily falling from flowering trees and whirling towards the ground. The grass was pastel green and bouncy, dotted with violets. I inhaled the fresh promise of a new season.
I traveled towards Henry down the sidewalk. There was nowhere else I wanted to go, nothing I wanted more desperately. His eyes were trained on my every step, but he never surrendered his position or moved an inch. I couldn't walk fast enough. My legs moved of their own accord at a sedate pace, caught on a predetermined slide.
When I reached him, relief flooded through my body. He gazed into my eyes, the brown of his irises dark and complex, lighter facets dancing within.
Our mouths met instantly, matching perfectly. He ran his hand through my hair, the strands gently tugging at my scalp. His lips were featherlight against mine, moving as though he were whispering at the same time. Then suddenly we were on my bed.
He ran his hand slowly in between the waistband of my jeans, brushing against my skin. His touch made me shiver. Our mouths broke apart and he pulled his shirt up over his head, leaving his hair messy. There was only a blur underneath, where his chest should have been.
A distracting knocking started up nearby. I tried to block it out and focus on Henry kissing me, but I couldn't ignore the sound. As much as I feverishly wanted to continue, I pulled away from him. I instantly regretted the loss of contact. "I have to go."
His face retained its patience, his eyes soft and watchful.
"I'll be right here," he assured me, his voice echoing in the open air of my room. There was no ceiling above us—I could see the darkening evening sky, lousy with stars.
I walked out and down the hallway, towards the back patio doors. I passed a girl leaning against the wall, a faceless girl in a gingham dress. Her chin-length bob hung in a solid sheet, combed over her face, obscuring her features. I didn't know her now, but I had known her later.
The knocking was getting ever louder. I had to answer, or it would drive me mad. Someone stood out in the darkness beyond the doors, but I couldn't see who.
That's when I woke up, sweat soaking my pillow. Black, heavy air filled my room, suffocating me.
###
Nerves plagued me throughout the next day, to the point where I couldn't eat lunch. I pushed the food around on my tray, listening to Theo tell a funny Vanderlip story from her math hour, and tried to laugh at the appropriate cues. The dream that I'd had about Henry made me both more aware of my feelings and more conflicted.
Henry and I didn't acknowledge each other in school, which just made the anticipation stronger. He passed me by in the hall on two occasions. Both times he didn't even look my way, but I caught the scent of his cologne, making my hands sweat, my tongue darting out to lick salt from my lips. I could almost feel his hand tugging at my hair, his insistent kiss, even if it had just been a dream.
I wondered several times if he had changed his mind. I even scrolled through my text messages under my desk to make sure his reply was still there. It was, of course.
At last, the final bell rang at the end of the day. I stayed behind at the art table, waving goodbye to Theo as she left.
"You really like to linger around, don't you?" she asked cheerfully.
"I'm a slowpoke."
I hadn't told her that Henry and I were getting together, even though she'd been there on the day he asked. I knew she'd be interested, but I was still too self-conscious to let anyone else know.
Lainey started to walk out the door, but turned back, cocoa eyes staring quizzically at Henry. I knew that they normally walked out together. I observed, almost like watching a play, as he said goodbye to her. I couldn't help but be a little pleased at the stunned look on her face as he strolled in my direction. A little afraid of her glare, I dropped my gaze to the floor.
"Are you ready?" Henry asked me softly. I nodded. "Do you need me to carry anything?"
He held out his arms, almost as if to hug me. I bit down on my grin as I hunched my backpack over my shoulder.
"No, thanks."
"Is somebody picking us up?" he inquired. He grabbed his own books as we passed his table and cradled them beneath his arm.
"I actually walk home," I said. I hadn't even though about transportation and now I felt dorky. "I don't live far." My speech stuck behind my tonsils and I cleared my throat.
"Great." The familiar smile arrived. "We can take advantage of the warmer weather before it says goodbye."
We passed out of the emptying school and through the parking lot. Out of nowhere, shyness had overtaken me, rendering me speechless. Possibly due to my obsessive thinking about him during the day, replaying a kiss that had never happened.
I watched student cars whipping out into traffic; I couldn't even glance at Henry, afraid I would either start giggling and be unable to stop, or simply faint. He didn't need to witness the severity of his affect on me.
"What did you think of the quiz in history?" he asked.
We crossed the street to the sidewalk. I shrugged, feeling the tension between my shoulders like an overstretched rubber band. The quiz hadn't been hard, just full of multiple choice questions. Why couldn't I just say that?
"Half the time, I don't know if Wick is being serious or not," he said. "I have a hard time editing my notes down with all of his stories."
When I didn't respond, Henry started up talking again. I remained mute, berating myself inside my head. What was wrong with me? I was making a fool of myself, but I didn't know how to stop it, like watching a slow-motion video of someone about to fall to their doom. I made eye contact with the sidewalk, watching silica flecks sparkle.
"What's with you?" he asked finally and stopped in his tracks. "You've barely said a word this whole time.
"Sorry," I croaked, finally turning towards him. We were looking straight into each others' eyes, since he was about the
same height as me. I liked that we were on the same level.
"I don't mean to be so awkward," I continued. "I just...I've never been great at talking to guys. They all think I'm weird."
Why did I tell him that? Embarrassment rushed to color my cheeks. He smiled then, not a smirk, but a genuine, nice smile.
"Don't worry, I'm safe," he said. "Nothing freaks me out. You could tell me anything and I wouldn't think you're bizarre." He paused, as if reconsidering. "Well, almost anything. You've never murdered anyone, have you?"
A short laugh rushed out of me.
"Ha! I knew I could do it," he declared triumphantly.
"Do what?"
"Make you laugh. You're always so serious around me. You've made my day, dear." He nudged me with his shoulder.
The old-timey affection wasn't missed, nor the physical touch, but I chose to comment on neither. The dam on my words had broken, however.
"You promised you'd continue our discussion the other day," Henry reminded me.
"I did."
"Why is it so bad that I'm friends with Lainey and the others?" he inquired. "Ambrose, I understand—he's an asshole. But the rest of them seem normal."
I looked down at my shoes, the rubber soles were beginning to peel away. "They're awful."
A memory of Lainey putting gum in Jenna's hair flitted through my mind. Jenna and Lainey had been nine. Rachel had to hack half of her daughter's lovingly cultivated curls off. Jenna had sat bunched up in a chair while the scissors were snipping, sobbing into her t-shirt.
"They're not so awful," he argued.
"You haven't been here long enough. You don't know," I said bluntly. "They criticize and bully people constantly. Not to mention they act like royalty."
"Well, yeah. That's a bit of a character flaw. I know you feel like they're better than you, but...."
I felt my features snap into a look of shock until I smoothed it away. "Why do you think I feel that way?" He just looked at me. "I didn't know I was so obvious." I was slightly uncomfortable that the conversation had veered into my personal feelings, but I was intrigued, too.
"Not everything about you is obvious, but that is, if whoever is watching pays close enough attention. You hunch your shoulders. Look at people as though they're going to bite you. And you always seem to be pondering things. Not that it's bad, I like that part. I'd love to know what's going on in that brain of yours. I've seen a lot of parts of you that I have yet to put together."
"So I'm a human puzzle?" I asked skeptically. He had been watching me? It seemed like the tables had turned. It gave me a heady thrill to know he'd secretly kept that aware of me.
"You're a challenge. That's entertaining." He laughed again.
He looked up as a flocked of birds crossed the sun. The clouds were moving faster from the west, threatening to take over the sky. I almost outright asked him if he was flirting, but I knew it was a big part of his personality. And if he told me I was reading into things, I would die of embarrassment.
"Can you tell I wanted to be a psychologist when I was younger?" Henry shoved his hands in his pocket again.
"A bit."
"It looks like we're going to get rained on, dear." He was still gazing up at the sky, long lashes fanned out against his upper lids. Facets of light shone in his irises like in my dream.
I looked up at the sky too, so as not to get caught staring at him again. He was right. Even though the sun was still glowing behind the clouds, sheet-like rain clouds were moving in. Splotches began to patter the sidewalk.
Laughing, we started to run the rest of the way to my house. He reached out and grabbed my hand as he sped up, pulling me with him. My blood rushed with fresh adrenaline, my head buzzing, pulse throbbing. As we turned onto my street, the sky opened up, dumping rain on us and drenching our clothes and hair.
Running across the lawn, we arrived at the back door.
"This is home—tada," I said with a faux grand sweep of the arms. The navy blue exterior of my house was darker from the rain, water pouring off the gutters and down the white shutters. Hugh's decorations were getting soaked, water pouring through the eyes of the skulls dangling from the trees. Henry looked around, frowning, and it occurred to me that these weren't normal lawn decorations in other towns.
Looking at each other, taking in the state of the rain dripping down our faces, we burst out laughing. I pushed the door open and he followed me inside, still chuckling.
Hugh was standing in the dining room, waiting like a bouncer to either okay Henry or kick him out. I wondered if he'd been watching us come up the walk.
"You look like a couple of soggy sponges," he said.
Henry shrugged off his sweatshirt. Strands of dark hair clung to his forehead. I took the sweatshirt from him and hung it up on the back of one of the dining room chairs, liking the brief, soft feel of it against my fingers.
"It's raining," I stated.
"I can see that." Hugh said.
"Hugh, this is Henry," I said, watching my father's reaction for signs of trouble.
I prepared myself, ready to shield Henry from oncoming missiles. Hugh shook Henry's hand, his eyes like an airport scanner. No detail unnoticed.
"Nice to meet you," Henry said cheerfully, hair still dripping and a drop of water at the end of his nose. He didn't seem intimidated.
"Likewise," Hugh said. He was attempting gruffness, his voice deeper than usual, his shoulders squared. "My daughter hasn't told me much about you, other than your interest in helping her learn. So pardon me if I have some questions."
"Hugh..." I moaned, covering my eyes with my hands. Let the mortification begin.
"Sure, anything you want to know," Henry said.
"What do your parents do for a living?"
"They're both attorneys. My father is in criminal defense and my mother deals with real estate disputes. They left their positions back home. Dad got a partnership with a firm here, and my mother is flying solo."
I was impressed, but Hugh was unfazed. It probably counted as points against Henry's parents, considering how much the legal system irritated Hugh.
"Where did you live before?" he asked.
"Westchester, Pennsylvania. I was actually born in Hell, but we moved when I was a toddler."
"Any siblings?"
"I have a sister, Andrea. She's a freshman at Villanova."
"Okay, I think that's enough of the third degree," I burst in. Odds were Henry would never want to come back. "We need to be studying."
Henry looked down at his chest. I had put my hand there protectively without realizing it. I yanked my arm back, as if I'd burned myself. Heat prickled across my cheeks.
Seemingly satisfied with his interrogation, Hugh sat back down at his laptop. The bridge was now able to be crossed, apparently. He put his flip-flop clad feet up and lounged back.
"Just so you know, the walls are very thin in this house," he said to Henry pleasantly.
Henry grinned widely and ducked his head, his shoulders quivering as he contained a snicker. I didn't get Hugh's meaning at first, but when it hit me, I was horrified.
"Hugh! Please!" I implored him.
"Go study," he said. He slid his coffee mug closer and waved us away with one hand. I led Henry into the den and shut the accordion doors to give us some privacy.
"Since the walls are so thin and all," I groused, causing Henry to chuckle again. "I'm sorry about my father." I gritted my teeth.
Henry's good mood had only been bolstered by Hugh's quiz. He took in the den in one panoramic glance: the walls lined with bookshelves, the black and white framed photographs, Claire's tabletop sculptures and decorative touches.
"Are you ever negative? About anything?" I wondered.
"That's just the typical dad rundown. I would do much worse, if I had a daughter. She probably wouldn't date until she was twenty-five."
"I didn't know a study session qualified as a date," I said, my heart leap
ing again, pulse thrumming so loud I was sure he'd hear it.
"You know what I mean," he said. Without waiting for permission, Henry strode to the back and started browsing the titles on the bookshelves.
"Is Hugh your stepdad?"
"No, why?"
"The fact that you called him by his first name." He pulled out a brown book with a cover I couldn't identify and flapped the top up and down. "Just curious."
"Oh. My parents are just quirky." I shrugged, settling on the couch. I had set my backpack down at the coffee table, and I nudged it now with my foot. "They've always been about, like, friendly parenting. Like they're so cool and down to earth that I will tell them everything. It made the other kids tease me for a while, until they realized it wasn't a big deal."
"My parents would kill me if I did that," Henry said, depositing his books next to my backpack. He flopped down beside me, his proximity making me dizzy. "I have to call my dad 'sir.' They're really strict. It must be nice to have parents who are loose with the rules."
"I wish they were, but they're not really," I said. "Things haven't changed since I was a little kid. They watch my every move. Anytime I do go out, I have to check in every ten minutes. Especially...lately."
I'd almost slipped. Jenna still felt like too sacred of a topic to speak with him about.
"Why lately?" he asked.
"They just...." I trailed off, not knowing how to explain it without going into the whole maudlin tale. I had been spoiled by the fact that everyone around me knew as much as I did, so I never had to explain.
"Shouldn't we get started?" I asked instead.
He nodded, moving closer. It seemed so bizarre to have him in my house, sitting casually on the couch. At school, he was a distant, untouchable thing, but here he seemed truly real.
Opening our geometry books, we began to study. At first, it was hard to concentrate. Up close, the complicated details that made him so attractive were evident. His tawny eyes glowed with warmth, framed by long lashes. His features were totally in balance. A sprinkle of barely-visible freckles crossed his cheeks and the bridge of his slightly crooked nose.
I took every opportunity I had to glance at him, studying every feature, trying to preserve them in my head for later. When he spoke, I realized his tongue was pierced, the silver bar glinting in between his teeth, which fascinated me—maybe he was a little dangerous, after all.