A Season of Eden (22 page)

Disgusted with myself, I closed my eyes to prevent more tears from falling. I heard Dad move and my eyes flashed, shocked that he’d actually brought himself closer.

“You sure you’re okay?”

There was worry on his face. It had been so long since he’d looked at me that way. Stacey had been his focus. The years of neglect had created a constant storm I wasn’t sure either one of us knew how to navigate our way through.

“I’m sure.” If I didn’t shut up, he’d keep questioning.

“You want dinner tonight? I thought maybe we could go out.”

My eyes widened with surprise. “I’m not really up for it.

But you can go.”

“Who am I going to go with, Eden?” There was sarcasm in his voice.

I shrugged, continuing to pet William. “So you and Stacey aren’t going to try to work it out?” Though I’d wondered, with the furniture gone, I pretty much figured she was gone for good.

“I don’t know.” I hated hearing hope in his voice.

“Well.” Awkwardness returned. “I’ll eat here then.

Camilla made chicken pepperoni.”

“Yeah?” That was one of his favorites. He nodded, relieved that a subject as simple as dinner was all that was between us now. He started for the door. “Come down when you feel better.”

Eating was the last thing I felt like doing. Eating a meal with him was another, but I nodded anyway. He closed the door and I wept again.

I wanted to skip Concert Choir the next day, but that was cowardly. I’d never hidden from bad situations with guys before, and this wasn’t like a dump-job. I just wasn’t sure what James was thinking. I knew where my head was—lowered—with enough shame that I didn’t look at him when I went to my seat. But his classical music dove straight to my heart, working it like putty.

In my peripheral vision I saw him watch me. His interest strummed my insides, remembering how he’d kissed me, touched me, said my name. How whole I’d felt in his arms.

Noise filtered around me. Soft music, a theme song I recognized but he’d never played for us before. I tried to distract myself by searching my brain for what it was, but the movie never came to me.

At last I glanced at him. He’d watched me since I’d come in and his beautiful face was mixed with concern and curiosity, pleasure and wariness. He made no gesture of greeting, just reached for his music stand and adjusted it.

“Okay, let’s get started.” He scanned the group.

“Anyone know this music?” I rolled my eyes when Leesa raised her hand. “Leesa?”

“It’s from
The Notebook
.”

He gave her a nod. Leesa wiggled with glee. I was glad he didn’t tell her how great she was for knowing.

“We do both of our songs without the sheet music today because you guys should know this stuff by now, right?”

Mumbling followed. The routine of class comforted me, filling in the empty spots inside of me that I didn’t know what to do with. Able to watch James now that class had started, I realized the feelings I’d had for him had not disappeared after yesterday, but were more intense. As he spoke and sung along with us, I was captivated by his mouth, the way it moved. I stumbled over lyrics, unable to find room in my head for anything but the memory of his kiss, of how safe I had felt against him. Every time our eyes met, something pure and innocent sparkled in his. Guilt forced me to look away.

When class ended, I hoped to sneak out without notice, filled with a jumble of emotions I had to sort out without being near him.

“Eden.” When he said my name, I stopped in my tracks.

If I looked at him, I might explode or dissolve, both were frightening. “Can I talk to you, please?”

The class had nearly emptied, all but Leesa who loitered nosily. “Leesa, if you don’t mind, shut the door on your way out,” he told her.

His bold request shocked Leesa as well as me. She glanced at me, then at him, before sulking out.

“There’s not a lot of time.” He started toward me when the door shut with a thud. “I…” He looked me over, as if hoping to discover why I’d been weird yesterday. I nervously fingered the strap of my backpack. “I wondered if we could meet tonight.”

“Sure,” I said too soon.

“Starbucks?”

I nodded, my eyes finally meeting his. “Yeah. Sure.”

Confusion and urgency flashed on his face. I felt bad that I’d put it there. Unanswered questions hung in his eyes.

The door flew open and a rush of kids entered. Where our covert talks and after class visits had never bothered me before, I looked at the faces of those who had just come in, sure they sensed that something more than a teacher-student talk was between this teacher and student. No one seemed to notice.

He backed away, bumping into his music stand.

When I walked out the door, I found Leesa waiting for me. She stayed at my elbow like a dog begging for a scrap he knows is hidden somewhere in your pocket. I started toward my locker, wondering if she could see the emotions of happy and sad on my face.

“What did he want?” she asked.

I shot her a raised brow. If I didn’t answer, she’d be suspicious. Still, I wanted her to know I didn’t find her question appropriate. “He wanted to ask me something.”

For the first time, I saw jealousy flicker in Leesa’s usually happy eyes. “He did? What?”

“I imagine if he wanted you to know, he wouldn’t have asked you to leave.”

I turned the corner to our locker hall. She stayed with me.

“He likes you, doesn’t he?” she asked.

My heart pounded. I worked to keep my face even, my walk steady. “Likes me? He’s my teacher, Leesa. I hope he likes me. I try to be nice to all the teachers.”

I stopped at my locker and she did too, her face so close, I could see the individual hairs on her head blow in the breeze. I stared at her, afraid she could somehow see the truth.

“You’ve always been a kiss-up,” she said, her voice trembling. She looked like I’d just slapped her. I glanced around, shifting my feet. “You flirt with whoever and don’t care about the rest of us! It so unfair!”

Stunned, my fingers froze on my locker dial. I stared at her. “He’s the nicest guy too.” Her voice rose. “Why would you do that to him?”

“Leesa,” I kept my voice low in hopes she would do the same, “I haven’t done anything to him.”

“Then why does he watch you all the time? Why did he ask you to pass out the sheet music? How come he wanted to talk to you alone?”

Visions of her storming into the principal’s office and ratting on us terrified me. I swallowed. But then, she sounded like a love-sick groupie with a bad crush on her teacher; surely Mr. Edwards would see that?

“Leesa.” I reached out and laid my hand on her arm, using the gesture to calm her. She looked down at my hand as if an angel had just touched her. Her face softened. “I’m sorry if you think I’m flirting with Mr. Christian. I’m not.”

“I know, I know.” She looked embarrassed now, and couldn’t meet my gaze. Her nearly-bald head flushed red.

“I’m probably just seeing things.”

“You like him, don’t you?” I kept my hand on her arm.

She blushed and nodded. “Can you tell?”

“Um, like a baby screaming in a chapel.” She laughed. I let my hand fall away. “It’s cute that you like him, Leesa. I’m sure he’d be very flattered.” We both opened our lockers.

My racing heart started to slow.

“Do you think he knows?” she asked.

“Uh, not sure on that one.”

“But you won’t tell him will you?”

“Cross my heart.” I made the crossing motion, and James’ face came into my mind. I smiled at Leesa and she smiled back.

“Hey,” she said as I started off to second period. I turned and walked backward so I could see her. “Maybe you and I could go somewhere, do something?”

“Um, yeah. Maybe.” I gave her a wave. She stood at her locker, her face happy.

James was waiting for me at seven o’clock. I sat in my car staring at him through Starbucks’ big windows. In jeans and a dark brown turtleneck, he looked like he’d just morphed from an old Beatles movie. The outfit was adorably wrong.

I could tell he was watching for me, the way he squinted into the glass trying to look beyond the reflection.

Though I wanted to be there, I wondered how it would all play out. I prepared myself for being dumped. I figured he’d had enough time to think about my odd behavior and had decided I was just too young and stupid after all.

The idea sickened me.

I got out and crossed the parking lot, making sure he saw me, but without looking at him. If he was tired of me, the pre-coffee sighting would confirm in his mind that he was glad to soon be rid of me. I honestly couldn’t believe that I was there for anything more than an “I think this is over” talk. I lowered my head.

Rather than extend the inevitable, I looked right at him when I entered. He stood, a small smile on his lips.

At the table, he pulled out the chair. “Eden, have a seat.”

“Thanks,” my voice cracked. I held onto my bag as if it was a life preserver and I was floating in the middle of the ocean and forced myself to meet his gaze.

“So,” I started.

He set his elbows on the table, clasping his fingers at his lips. I looked at his mouth, remembering how sweet his kiss was. He caught my stare. A guy ready to dump a girl would have had a look of disgust on his face, wouldn’t he? James’ intense stare held me pinned. I blushed and set down my bag, then clasped my own hands on the table.

“Want something?” he asked.

I let out a laugh. His unintentional innuendo didn’t slip by me. “You mean to drink, right?” He bit his lower lip, thought a minute, then turned a light shade of pink. “You kind of set yourself up for that one,” I told him, feeling a little more relaxed now that we’d shared a laugh.

He buried his head in his hands for a minute.

“I’ll take a drink, sure.”

He rose and dug into his front pocket for his wallet, his eyes on me. I couldn’t read his expression, and a knot formed in my heart. Was he offering me a drink to be nice, figuring I’d know better and say no? Was he offering so we could get this nasty deed over with? Maybe he was pissed that I’d made something of the innuendo.

I looked out the window while he ordered, the knot in my heart pulling tight. Part of me wanted to get this over with. Another part of me was reaching out for any last bit of him I could get. His scent, which was all but drowned in the smell of brewed coffee, his face, the sweet kindness in his eyes.

He came back with a caramel cappuccino for me and a hot chocolate for him. The light whiff of his cologne infused me with courage when he sat. As he lifted his drink to his lips and I watched, I realized I couldn’t give him up.

“I need to tell you something,” I said. His expression was patient. “Yesterday… I realized some things. Not to sound stupid or anything, but, all this time I thought… well… I wanted us, you know, to be more than friends.

I liked that you weren’t like the guys I know. That was a really big plus for me. I thought we’d click, and we did. But when you kissed me I knew how different we really are.  How wrong it was.”

His eyes darkened. I thought disappointment passed over his face. He looked away for a moment, holding his cup between both palms. “I disagree.”

“You… you do?”

“Yes. What was wrong about it?”

I blinked. “You mean besides the teacher-student thing?”

“That’s not what this is about anymore, Eden. Come on.” He leaned forward, the same electric passion flickering in his eyes I’d seen countless times when he conducted us.

“What’s really bothering you?”

“I’m serious.”

“Everything was fine before I kissed you,” he almost hissed. “What changed?”

I leaned toward him. “I don’t know… everything.”

“That’s bull and you know it.” Anger flashed in his eyes.

It dawned on me then that he wasn’t there to dump me.

The fire in his eyes was for me. It stirred me deep down and I wanted to kiss him again, right there at that table—in public—for the world to see.

I sighed and sat back, relieved that we could work this out. But I couldn’t dislodge the guilt I felt. This revelation didn’t change anything. He was still James, pure and sweet.

And I was Eden.

“Look,” he said, “if you don’t want to see me anymore, just say so. But don’t take me back to high school with all its games and crap, okay?”

“You said you didn’t date in high school,” I quipped.