“Ugh, indeed,” I agreed.
“Oof, not so loud.” Natalie pulled off her sunglasses and pressed her hands to her closed eyes. “I keep thinking this headache will go away, but I can’t seem to shake it.”
“Do you need some aspirin?” I reached for my purse but Natalie waved it away.
“I’ve got so much Extra-Strength Excedrin in me, I don’t dare take anything else.”
“How long—”
“Friday.” Natalie folded her arms and rested her head on the table. “If this is what a hangover feels like, I’m glad I’ve never gotten drunk.”
“Are you going to make it the rest of the day?”
“I have to.” Natalie roused herself from the table and scraped her hair back with her hands. “I have a test in math I can’t miss.”
“But if you’re sick . . .”
“I’ll be fine,” she said unconvincingly. She pasted on a crooked smile. “Tell me what’s going on with you, Abs.”
“You mean before or after my life ended?”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“What do you mean what do I mean? I figured it would be all over school by now. Jason broke up with me. On Valentine’s.”
Natalie waved away my words. “Yeah, you and the rest of the school.”
“What do you mean?”
“What do you mean what do I mean?” she parroted back. “Everyone broke up on Valentine’s. Ben and Sarah. Lizzy and Chandler. Eve and Will.” She ticked the names off on her fingers. She made a face. “Natalie and Chris.”
“What? It was your first date!”
“First and last, apparently.” She shrugged.
“So what did happen?”
“Valentine’s happened.” She stole the cookie from my lunch, crumbling it between her fingers.
“Hey—” I swiped the cookie back and stuffed it in my lunch bag. “Now talk. Tell me everything.”
“What’s to tell? Chris picked me up Friday night. I looked stunning, by the way. We were having a great time at the dance. Zero Hour played and we danced to every song. Then Chris took me home and as we pulled into my driveway—bam—he told me he didn’t want to see me again. Said he’d been thinking about one of the songs Zero Hour played—you know the one: ‘The world is older than we imagine, Time more fluid than we think.’ ” She sang the lyrics in her low alto voice and I felt the hairs stand up on my arms. She shook her head. “Anyway, Chris made up something about how he didn’t want to waste what little time he had left dating just one girl. How he wanted to branch out and live life to the fullest. I swear it’s like he was going through a midlife crisis. He’s only seventeen, Abby!” She jammed her sunglasses back on. “That’s when this killer headache started and it hasn’t left yet.”
I sat stunned for a minute. I didn’t know what to say. Finally, I managed, “Oh, Nat, I’m sorry,” but it came out sounding as helpless as I felt.
“Maybe it was for the best, you know? I mean, I just said yes to the dance to be nice. I don’t know if I really saw a future with Chris.”
I couldn’t help it. My glance darted to where Jason sat with Robert. He ran his hand through his curls, and I felt my skin prickle. How many times had I seen him do that casual gesture? Hundreds, if not thousands. I knew so much about Jason—his habits, his quirks—could things really be over between us? I couldn’t quite believe it. Yes, we’d still be friends, but I knew it wouldn’t really be the same. What had happened to my future with Jason?
Dante walked through my field of vision, heading for the doors. Hunched down in his dark coat, he flipped up his collar with a snap and pushed out into the afternoon light. I thought I saw him favoring his left arm, but maybe it was my imagination. The cut Zo had inflicted had been deep. I worried I hadn’t patched Dante up well enough, despite his demonstration in history.
Natalie followed my gaze. “So he is still alive.”
I startled, the feel of Dante’s hot blood and hotter skin a tangible memory on my fingers. “What? Why do you say that?”
“Oh, just that no one has seen him around school much lately. Rumor was he’d had a run-in with an old enemy”—Natalie lowered her voice dramatically—“who was looking for vengeance.” She laughed. “How do these stupid rumors get started anyway?”
In my memory, I could see clearly the white-hot slice of Zo’s blade as it cut through shadows and skin. I managed a smile for Natalie, grateful I didn’t need to formulate a reply. Apparently the news of our breakup wasn’t the only story Jason had been telling over the long weekend. I was relieved that the tale had quickly devolved into rumor. I just hoped Dante didn’t think I’d been the one telling his secrets.
“Rumors or not, he’s a strange one, isn’t he?” Natalie continued, stealing a swallow from my water bottle.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, he seems so secretive. He’s unpredictable—never where you think he’s supposed to be. And he’s always wearing those strange gloves.” Natalie rubbed her own hands together. “I don’t know. There’s just something—odd—about him. Janey tried to talk to him every day in biology for a whole week but he just ignored her. I would think he was being rude, but he ignores everyone. Well, everyone but you. He must really like you.”
“And that makes him odd?”
“No, no,” Natalie stammered. “I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just that you’re the only person he talks to or spends any time with.”
“I’m sure he has other friends . . .” I started to say, trailing off as Natalie shook her head.
“If he does, they’re not from around here. Haven’t you noticed, Abby? Practically the entire female population of the school would kill for the chance to get close to him, but every time they see him, he’s with you.”
“And that’s a bad thing?”
“Yes!”
“Because . . . ?”
“Because you’re Jason’s girl. You’re off the market. Dante should be up for grabs, but he’s not playing by the rules. I personally know of at least four girls who asked him to Valentine’s—Holly even asked him back in January!—but he turned down every single one of them.”
“Maybe he’s not into dances . . .” I said lamely.
“And maybe he wanted to go with you,” Natalie finished.
“He didn’t, though,” I said quietly. Yes, he had come to the dance, but it hadn’t been to see me. He’d been there to stop Zo from doing something dangerous.
I remembered what he had said in history: Zo’s performance will have worked its way through the school in a few days. Had Dante been there to stop Zo from performing at the dance? But why? How could singing a song be dangerous?
I shook my head, dislodging a string of unanswerable questions.
Natalie finished off my water. “I bet he would have if you hadn’t been going with Jason.”
“But I’m not Jason’s girl anymore,” I said softly, watching my one-time boyfriend crumple up his lunch sack in his hands.
“I know,” Natalie said just as softly, her eyes on him as well, a strange mix of emotions crossing her face.
I felt a catch in my throat. My friend was in love with my ex-boyfriend. I knew I should be willing to step aside for her, but I wasn’t sure I could do that. My past was filled with memories of Jason. Letting him go would be like letting go of myself. And then there was Dante. I counted him as a friend—and maybe as something more—but did pursuing a relationship with him mean I’d have to cut Jason out of my life entirely? Couldn’t I have both? Couldn’t I find some balance between them?
The bell rang. I watched Jason stand up from the table and walk away, surrounded by his pack of friends. Natalie grabbed her sunglasses and followed him down the hall.
I felt myself teetering on the edge of tears. Everything was such a mess. I waited until the cafeteria was empty before I slowly got to my feet and made my way to class, my steps filled with uncertainty.
~
“Valerie! Wait up!” I hitched
my backpack higher on my shoulder and jogged across the courtyard toward her. She was standing by the edge of the parking lot talking to someone—V. I missed a step when I recognized him.
I saw her lean forward, give him a quick kiss, and then shoo him away. He disappeared in the maze of cars before I reached Valerie’s side.
“What are you doing? Didn’t you hear the announcements this morning? You know he’s not supposed to be on school grounds.”
“What? He stopped by to see me.” Valerie tossed her jet-black hair over her shoulder. She hadn’t dyed it again after the dance and it looked almost purple in the afternoon light. “Some of us have nice boyfriends.”
I cocked my head, confused by the harsh remark. “Principal Adams said—”
“Oh, please, Abby, I thought you didn’t pay attention to rumors.” Valerie headed back to the school and I walked in her wake.
“It’s not a rumor if it’s the truth.”
She stopped, turning on me. “What are you talking about?”
“The bad stuff that’s been going on? I think V has had a hand in it. V and Zo and Tony.”
Valerie arched an eyebrow with deadly precision. “Really.”
I squirmed a little under her piercing regard. “Yeah, I think—”
“I think you’re jealous.”
“What?”
She nodded. “It’s obvious, isn’t it? You wanted to be the only one with a good-looking Italian for a boyfriend, and now that I’m seeing V, you’re jealous.”
“That’s not it at all!” Anger and surprise snaked through me, making my hands shake. “Since when have I cared about the guys you date? But I don’t trust Zo and I don’t trust his friends, either. I’m worried about you, Valerie. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
She shrugged, which only made me angrier.
“Why are you acting like this? I had a really hard weekend and I don’t want to fight with you—”
“Whatever, Abby. Listen, I’m meeting V after rehearsal so can we talk about this some other time—like never?” She turned on her heel.
The words poured out of me without a chance of me stopping them: “I hate you so much it hurts.” For the first time I realized I meant them. My fingernails dug half-moons into the palms of my hands. My whole body shook with emotion.
Valerie waved at me over her shoulder. “I love you too.” Her voice was venomous-sweet.
Speechless, I watched her walk away from me. What was happening? First Jason. Now Valerie? Where was all this anger coming from? Had everyone around me gone crazy? For a moment I wished I could have those strange white flashes of the future again. At least then I might have some warning. At least then I might not get hurt.
~
I stumbled into rehearsal a few minutes late, but Dave didn’t notice. I was pretty sure no one noticed. I blotted my eyes with a wadded-up tissue, making a mental note to have more on hand. I would need a steady supply if breaking down at school was going to become a regular habit.
“Okay, people, let’s run that scene one more time. And with feeling, please!” Dave’s voice crashed through the speakers.
Taking a deep breath, I grabbed my clipboard and a pen. I marched up to Dave, tapping him on the shoulder. “Hi.”
“Oh, Abby. You’re here. Good. I’m trying to convince Claudio and Hero that they really are in love with each other, but it’s impossible. And don’t get me started on Benedick and Beatrice! I don’t understand it. You’d think we were running the show for the first time instead of practically being at dress rehearsals—”
“What would you like me to do?”
“Dante’s been helping Jason put the finishing touches on Leonato’s house. Would you check on their work, please? I swear, I don’t know what I’d do without Dante today. He’s about the only person besides you willing to work. At this point, I’m willing to forgive him for missing the last few rehearsals.”
“I’m on it,” I said, though my heart didn’t want to play along. Dante? Working with Jason? This should be fun. I sighed and trudged up the stage stairs.
Slipping behind the back curtains, I crept up on Leonato’s house. Maybe I could check on them without being seen . . .
I peeked through the curtains. Jason and Robert were hanging the shutters on the side windows of the house. I could hear the rise and fall of their voices, asking for tools and discussing the basketball team’s chances for a win on Thursday. A few other crew members bustled around the building, weaving the plastic grapevines through the lattice-work roof and painting the inside of the house light blue.
Dante sat on the floor of the porch, a screwdriver in his gloved hand, affixing the railing to the banister poles. Everyone gave him a wide berth, and he seemed happy to be left alone with his work. He wore a simple gray tank top and jeans, and was scrubbing the sweat off his forehead with a bare arm. I realized with a start that the deep slash that Zo’s blade had left on his arm was gone. No bandage. No gauze. Nothing but smooth skin.
“Not even a scar to show the ladies,” I said to myself. I thought I was quiet, but Dante’s head perked up and he looked straight at me.
“Abby?” Dante’s voice, full of happy surprise, reached out to me through the darkness.
I parted the curtains and stepped lightly onto the porch. I saw Jason see me and then turn away.
“Don’t mind him,” Dante said, motioning me closer. “He’s angry.”
I grimaced. “Popular emotion today.” I sat down on the floor next to him. It was cool in the shadows backstage. I wondered how long I could hide out back here before Dave would need me again.
Dante glanced at me. “I told you—don’t worry. Things will be better tomorrow.”
“How can you be sure?”
Instead of answering me, Dante smoothed a soft cloth over the portion of the railing in front of him. “What do you think? It’s been a while since I’ve done any freehand woodwork. Do you like it?”
The banister was at eye level. As my eyes adjusted to the dimmer light, I could see a thick pattern of flowers carved into the curved wood. Blossoms blended into ribbons, which flowed around stems and leaves, which bloomed into more petals. Following the lines soothed my tired eyes and lifted my heart. I felt like I could almost smell the rich roses, touch the petals. I gasped when I realized that the delicate carvings covered the entire length of the banister railing.
“You did this?” I couldn’t take my eyes off the beautiful work. “By hand?”
I sensed Dante shrugging next to me. “I keep telling people I’m good with my hands, but no one seems to believe me.”
“It’s . . . it’s amazing,” I said, feeling the utter inadequacy of the word to describe what I saw.
A mischievous grin touched his lips. “Look here.” He pointed to the bottom of the railing where it curved into the banister pole. I thought I saw letters hidden in the labyrinth of vines in the dark wood. A name. Beatrice.
My eyes spelled out the letters, noting the small hook at the bottom of the “t.”
“Is that . . . ?”
“She’s an interesting character, wouldn’t you agree? Feisty and headstrong. Vibrant. I was imagining her as a young girl, lazing away a summer afternoon, bored with waiting for her life to begin, and then . . . daring to leave her mark.” Dante ran the ball of his thumb along the hidden name. “Declaring to the world, ‘Questo chi sono. Ero qui. Importo.’”
“In English, please.”
“‘This is who I am. I was here. I matter.’”
The passion in Dante’s voice tugged at my weary heart. I regarded him for a moment. “That’s my middle name, you know,” I whispered.
He turned his gray eyes to me, soft as a rain cloud. “I know.” He reached out his hand and almost touched mine. “If anyone sees this, they’ll think I did it for the play. But I did it for you.”
A stone fist clenched my heart. I didn’t have to look behind me to know exactly where Jason’s small carved butterfly hung frozen in the wood, quietly
floating next to my initials. Had it been only a few weeks since Jason had given me that gift? Why did it feel like forever ago? It seemed impossible that just a couple of days ago Jason had dropped me off at my house in my Valentine’s dress and driven away, and yet here I was with someone else. Everything was happening too fast. I wanted to be friends with Dante but I didn’t think I had the strength to try dating him just yet.
Tears welled up in my eyes. “I have to go. Thank you for showing me your work. It’s perfect.”
I stumbled through the curtains and across the stage, falling into the first available seat in the auditorium. Through tear-filled eyes I saw my whole life spread out in a tableau on stage: Dante, pushing aside the curtain, a concerned line creasing his forehead. Jason, standing behind Dante, a jumble of emotions on his face: seething anger, bewildering loss. Valerie, chatting with Lily, pointedly ignoring me.
What in the world was I supposed to do now? Just hang on until opening night, I told myself. Just play your part until then.
Maybe if everyone could just play their parts and leave me alone, I’d figure out a way to survive the intervening weeks. Somehow.
Chapter
13
Surviving the next week turned out to be the least of my worries. Surviving the afternoon was going to be hard enough on its own.
Rehearsal proved to be the worst we’d had since day number one. Afterward, as I walked toward the parking lot, Valerie sped by me in her cherry-red Lexus. So much for my ride home.
“Great,” I muttered, though after our earlier fight and an entire afternoon of frosty non-communication, I wasn’t particularly surprised that she had ditched me.
I was surprised, however, to see Jason drive past a moment later with Natalie in the passenger’s seat.
“Double great,” I sighed, slinging my backpack off my shoulder and unzipping the top. Fishing out my cell phone, I flipped it on, only to see a fat red line bisecting the battery icon.
“Triple great!”
“What’s great?” Dante asked from behind me.