Cross My Heart (10 page)

I watch
that same gaggle of sophomore girls from lunch
pass
throug
h the lobby. This time
they do
n’t stop to stare
or whisper
.
They don’t even notice me. It’
s as if, with Parker, I might be someone w
orth talking about. Alone, I’m
just Jaden
McEntyre
, pushing another human rights campa
ign onto the masses. I swallow
hard.

“You know,” I continue
as they disappear
behind a corner.
“I don’t think he’s as bad as everyone thinks. He’s smart. He has . . . things to say.”

“It’s fine, Jaden. Okay? I don’t have a problem with you and Parker, but you should p
robably talk to Blake.”

I turn back to her, lips pulled into a frown.
“
Why? What’s wrong with Blake?”

“Let’s just say
he wasn’t very happy with the idea of you and Parker Whalen sitting outside eating lunch together.
”

“It’s
sch
oolwork
.
”

“I know,” Savannah replies
. “Just talk to Blake.
I mean, he
is
your boyfriend.”

I let out a sarcastic laugh. “There’s absolutely
nothing
for him to worry about. Thi
s is . . . literature. That’s all
.”

Sa
vannah stands, picks up her
bag, and tosses
it over her shoulder. “It’s fine. Just kee
p Blake informed, k?
I don’t really want to get caught in the middle of this
. . . whatever it is
.
” She turns and walks
away, leaving me alone at the table—saving the children of Bangladesh—all by myself.

“Okay,” I reply
. But she’
s
already halfway down the hall, min
g
ling
into the
crowd
.

I sigh,
remove
my cell ph
one
from
my purse, and punch
in Blake’s digits.

On Monday afternoon, as I open
my locker door j
ust before the final bell, I’m
surprised to see a little white note card flutter
end over end
to the floor. I bend
do
wn to
pick it up, then turn
it over, examining the words written in dark, block print:
Zeena
Sucks
.

The words draw a smile.
I
fan
my
face w
ith the card
and wonder
how Parker knew
which locker was mine. I turn
around
,
half expecting him to appear—to
find him watching me. But I’m alone. I study
the card in my hands, my heart wave
ring momentarily when I realize
that, at some point between
the
last trip to my locker and now, Parker thought of me—thought enough to write a message, and then enough to search out my locker and give it to me. I
brush
my fingers across the Harvard crest and
shut the
metal door as the final bell ri
ng
s. If the note
is true, it means
Parker might’
ve finish
ed reading the book, which means
he might be ready
to
discuss it. There
’s
only one way to find out.

The library i
s
nearly empty
,
the only noise
com
ing
from the librarian and her assistant,
the latter
checking i
n various books at the counter—
slipping
cards in the back pocket
s
and
setting them
aside, one by one—and the former
typing information into the computer databas
e, the keyboard clacking with every strike
.

I move toward Parker—the same circular table we occupied the week prior—
breathing
in the s
mell
of
o
ld cardboard and mildewed pages.
I
suck
i
n a
quick
breath
as I approach
,
then calmly release
it.

“So?” I ask
, sitting down in the chair across from him.

“So?” he repeats
, not taking his eyes off his
text
book
, so nondescriptly that I
begin to
wonder if this—
me
being here—is a mistake
.

“What do
you think
? I mean, besides ‘
Zeena
Sucks.’
” I
offer
a bright smile, letting him know,
in my own little way, that I found
his note—and I appreciated it.

“I don’t know,” he replies
, closing his
book
, sitting back in his chair, slouching
.
I’m
surprised to see
Geometry II gracing th
e cover. Second-year Geometry i
s an elective—an elective
that
I
didn’t even sign up for.
I
unzip
my
bag, pulling out my English note
book and, with it, the notes I
already jotted down about Ethan and Mattie and their story.

“It wasn’t ro
mantic, that’s for sure,” I say
. “I hated that Ethan kept tiptoeing around his feelings. So you love
her: tell her already.” I turn to a clean sheet and wri
te the date at the top.

“I don’t think it was
that
easy for him,” Parker says
. “The guy was already married . . . and you’re not exactly supposed to go around with feelings for your housekeeper when you have a wife.”

“I
guess
not,” I say
, pausing for a moment. “But you know . . .
Zeena
wasn’t much of a wife. I mean, she was sick all the time, and spending money on medical treatments she didn’t even nee
d. It’s so obvious she was
jealous. And the way she just jumped up and took care
of Mattie like nothing was
wrong with her?
It totally pissed me off
! I mean, if she would’ve done her job in the first place none of it would’ve ever happened. Ethan probably wouldn’t have fallen for Mattie.”

“You think it’s
Zeena’s
fault,” Parker clarifies, after I finish
my spiel.

“
I don’t think she helped.” I wri
te
a few notes down on my paper, scribbling quickly. “Let’s
go over
our impressions today,
and maybe in a day or two we can meet back here and
work on
our themes.
” I stop.
Maybe Parker didn’t come to the library to talk about
Ethan
Frome
today. Maybe he’s busy. Maybe he has other plans.
“Unless, you know, another time is better,
”
I swiftly add.

“No. It’s fine
.”

It’s fine. He wants to stay
.
“
Okay.
So
. . . . W
hat did
you think about Ethan?” I ask
, eyeing him
cautiously
.

“I don’t know. I kind of felt sorry for him.”

“
I
know.
I mean, I hate that he and Mattie
couldn’t be together. They
deserved to be happy, you know?
” I think
for a moment before continuing.
“
I couldn’t imagine not being with the person I had feelings for. And
then
not being able to tell people about my feelings.
It would suck.
”

“Yeah,” he replies
. “But it’s more than that. He was smart. He had plans. He wanted to get out of town and actually be somebody. Then his parents get sick and he has to come home and take care of the farm. When they finally die he’s lonely, so he marries
Zeena
to keep him
company. Everything is cold and sad. I don’t know. You have to feel bad for a guy who wanted so much for himself and ended up with nothing.”

I listen
to Parker
, digesting what he’s saying
.
The truth is
I
never really paid attention to Ethan outsid
e of Mattie. To me, the story is tragic because nothing ever comes
of their f
eelings
for each other
. To Parker, the story is tragic because Ethan has
potential he never lived up to. Same story. Two entirely different interpretation
s.

“Wow,” I finally mutter
.

“What?”

“It’s just that . . . that was really insightful.”

He smirks
, eyebrows lifting
. “You’re surprised I’m capable of
thought-provoking conversation.
”

“No,” I reply
, smiling
back
. “So
. . . they’re poor,” I continue
, writing down Parker’s comments.

“
Zeena
i
s sick and crabby,” Parker adds
.

“Mattie is Ethan’s
only happiness.”

Pa
rker leans back in his seat, clasping
his fingers behind his head. “You know . . . I don’t think Ethan did it on purpose.”

“Did what?”

“Fell for Mattie.”

“Why not?”

“Because I just don’t think he did. I don’t think you can control something like falling in love.”

How could something like falling in love be uncontrollable?
“You
think it just happens?” I ask
, curious
. “Unplanned? Unannounced?”

“I think you fall in love with s
omeone when you least expect to. W
hen it’s the last thing you want. That’s what’s so great about it.”

My heart skips a
hit
or two at this—
my insides going all fluttery on me. The idea that Parker Whalen would even think a
bout falling in love this way . . . a
bout it being great.
. . .  It
’
s
just . . .
not a typical boy attitude,
I guess
.
He leans
forward; a trace of his aftershave, or
some kind of body spray, hovers in the air between us. It’
s awfully enticing, an
d I fi
nd myself
migrating
closer to him—
drifting—
like
h
e’
s some sort of black hole,
sucking me in.
I clear
my throat
, trying to ignore this
, curious
. “Have, um, you ever been in love before?”

As soon as the words escape my lips,
I regret having asked them. It
’
s not even any of my business,
not something I need to know. It only makes
me look . . . desperate. Like I
’
m actually interested.
Which I
’
m not, obviously.

His eyes narrow.
“Why do you
ask
?”

“Insight,” I say
, shrugging
casually, working to keep my tone level.
“I was just wondering if you were speaking from experience.”

He pauses
for a
beat.
Two beats.
But he answers.
“Nah.
”