Halo (9 page)

I could feel myself starting to blush and I backed away from him. I felt so feverish that I was sure I must be radiating heat.

“I’m late for French,” I said, snatching up the closest books I could find and half stumbling along the corridor.

“The language center’s the other way,” he called after me, but I didn’t turn back.

When I did eventually find the right room, I was relieved that our teacher had also only just arrived. Mr. Collins, who didn’t look or sound very French to me, was a tall, lanky man with a beard. He was wearing a tweed jacket and cravat.

It was a small classroom and almost full. I glanced around for the closest empty seat and stifled a gasp when I saw the person who was sitting right next to it. My heart somersaulted in my chest as I moved toward him. I took a breath and steadied my nerves. He was just a boy, after all.

Xavier Woods looked mildly amused as I took my seat beside him. I tried my best to ignore him and focused on opening my textbook to the page Mr. Collins had written on the blackboard.

“You’re going to have some trouble learning French from that,” I heard Xavier murmur in my ear. I realized with a flood of embarrassment that in my confusion I had picked up the wrong book. In front of me lay not my French grammar book but one on the French Revolution. I felt my cheeks flush scarlet for the second time in less than five minutes, and I leaned forward, attempting to conceal them with my hair.

“Miss Church,” Mr. Collins called out, “would you please read aloud the first passage on page ninety-six titled:
À la bibliothèque
.”

I froze. I couldn’t believe I was going to have to announce to everyone that I had brought along the wrong books to the very first class. How incompetent would I seem? I opened my mouth to begin an apology just as Xavier slid his book inconspicuously across the desk toward me.

I gave him a grateful look and began to read the passage with ease, although I’d never read or spoken the language before. That was just the way it was with us—we only needed to start something before we excelled at it. By the time I was finished, Mr. Collins had come to stand beside our desk. My reading had been fluent—too fluent. I realized that I should have mispronounced a few words or at least stumbled once or twice, but it hadn’t occurred to me to do so. Maybe part of me was trying to show off in front of Xavier Woods to make up for my previous clumsiness.

“You’re as fluent as a native speaker, Miss Church. Have you lived in France?”

“No, sir.”

“Visited perhaps?”

“Unfortunately, no.”

I glanced across at Xavier, whose raised eyebrows indicated he was impressed.

“We must put it down to natural ability then. You might be happier in the advanced class,” Mr. Collins suggested.

“No!” I said, not wanting to attract any more attention and wishing Mr. Collins would let the matter drop. I vowed to be less perfect next time. “I’ve still got plenty to learn,” I assured him. “Pronunciation is my strong point, but grammatically I’m all over the place.”

Mr. Collins seemed satisfied with that explanation. “Woods, continue from where Miss Church left off,” he said, then looked down at Xavier and pursed his lips. “Where’s your textbook, Woods?”

I quickly passed the book back to him, but Xavier made no move to accept it.

“Sorry, sir, I forgot my books today; had a late one last night. Thanks for sharing, Beth.”

I wanted to protest but Xavier’s warning look silenced me. Mr. Collins glared at him, scribbled something in his notebook and muttered all the way back to his desk.

“Not setting much of an example as school captain. See me after class.”

The lesson over, I waited outside for Xavier to finish with Mr. Collins. I felt I at least owed him a thank-you for saving me from embarrassment.

When the door opened Xavier strolled out as casually as someone taking a walk on the beach. He looked at me and smiled, pleased that I had waited for him. I was supposed to be meeting Molly at morning break, but the thought floated into my head and straight out again. When he looked at me it was easy to forget to breathe.

“You’re welcome and it was no big deal,” he said before I could even open my mouth.

“How did you know what I was going to say?” I asked irritably. “What if I wanted to tell you off for getting yourself into trouble?”

He looked at me quizzically. “Are you angry?” he asked. There was that half-smirk again, playing around his lips, as if he was deciding whether the situation was amusing enough to warrant a full smile.

Two girls walked past and looked daggers at me. The taller one waggled her fingers at Xavier.

“Hey, Xavier,” she said in a syrupy voice.

“Hi, Lana,” he replied in a friendly but dispassionate tone.

It seemed obvious to me that he had no interest in talking to her, but Lana didn’t seem to notice.

“How’d you do on the math test?” she persisted. “I thought it was
sooooooo
hard. I think I might need a tutor.”

I couldn’t help but notice the way Xavier looked at her—blankly, like someone might look at the screen of a computer. Lana was chatting away and arching her back so that Xavier could get the full effect of her curvaceous figure. Any other boy would have been unable to resist giving her body an appreciative appraisal, but Xavier’s eyes didn’t move from her face.

“I think I did okay,” he said. “Marcus Mitchell does tutoring; you should ask him if you really think you need it.” Lana’s eyes narrowed in annoyance at having given so much and received so little.

“Thanks,” she snapped before flouncing away.

Xavier didn’t seem to notice that he had offended her, or if he did, he wasn’t perturbed by it. He turned back to me with a very different expression. His face was serious as if he were trying to solve some sort of puzzle. I tried not to feel a rush of pleasure at this; he probably looked at lots of girls in the same way, and Lana was just an unlucky exception. I remembered what I’d been told about Emily and scolded myself for being so conceited as to think he was showing interest in me.

Before our conversation could resume, Molly spotted us with a look of surprise. She approached cautiously, looking a little worried that she might be interrupting something.

“Hi, Molly,” Xavier said when it became apparent that she wasn’t going to initiate conversation.

“Hi,” she replied briskly and gave my sleeve a proprietary tug. When she spoke, it was in the wheedling voice of a small child. “Beth, come to the cafeteria with me—I’m practically dying of starvation! And after school on Friday I want you to come back to my place—we’re all getting facials from Taylah’s sister, who’s a beautician. It’s going to be awesome. She always brings lots of samples so we can do our own at home.”

“That does sound awesome,” said Xavier with a feigned enthusiasm that made me giggle. “What time should I come over?”

Molly ignored him.

“Will you come, Beth?”

“I have to ask Gabriel and let you know,” I said. I saw a look of surprise cross Xavier’s face. Was it the idea of a night spent having facials or my need to ask my sibling for permission that puzzled him?

“Ivy and Gabriel are welcome to come too,” Molly said, her voice picking up.

“I’m not sure it would be their cup of tea.” I saw Molly’s face fall and added quickly, “But I’ll ask anyway.”

She beamed at me.

“Thanks. Hey, can I ask you something?” She glared at Xavier who was still standing there. “In private?”

He raised his hands in mock defeat and walked away. I resisted the urge to call him back. Molly’s voice dropped to a low whisper. “Has Gabriel . . . um . . . said anything about me?”

Neither Gabriel nor Ivy had mentioned Molly since our encounter at the ice cream parlor, except to repeat their general warning about the danger of making friends. But I knew from her tone that she was captivated by Gabriel, and I didn’t want to disappoint her. “Actually, yes,” I said, hoping I sounded convincing. There was only one circumstance when lying was permitted: in order to avoid causing someone unnecessary pain. But even then it didn’t come easily.

“Really?” Molly’s face lit up.

“Of course,” I said, thinking that, technically, I hadn’t really lied. Gabriel
had
mentioned Molly, just not in the context she hoped for. “He said it was good to see I’d found such a nice friend.”

“He said that? I can’t believe he even noticed me. He’s so gorgeous! Beth, sorry, I know he’s your brother and all, but he is seriously hot.”

In an elated mood Molly took my arm and pulled me in the direction of the cafeteria. Xavier was there, sitting with a table of athletes. This time when our eyes met, I held his gaze. As I looked at him, I felt my mind go completely blank and I couldn’t think about anything except his smile—that perfect, endearing smile that made his eyes crinkle ever so slightly at the corners.

Partay

Molly hadn’t failed to notice my interest in Xavier Woods and decided to offer some unsolicited advice. “I really don’t think he’s your type,” she said, twirling her curls around her fingers as we stood in line at the cafeteria.

I was standing close to her in order to avoid being jostled by students eager to reach the counter. The two careworn teachers who were on duty tried to overlook the pandemonium around them. They kept sneaking looks at the clock and counting down the minutes before they could return to the sanctuary of the staff room.

I tried to ignore the elbows digging into me, as well as the sticky patches on the floor from spilled drinks, and listen to what Molly was saying.

“Who are you talking about?” I said.

She gave me a shrewd look that said she was unconvinced by my naïve act. “I admit Xavier is one of the hottest guys at school, but everyone knows he’s trouble. The girls that try only end up brokenhearted. Don’t say you weren’t warned.”

“He doesn’t seem deliberately cruel,” I said, overcome by a desire to defend him even though I knew next to nothing about him.

“Look, Beth, falling for Xavier is only going to get you hurt. That’s just the truth.”

“What makes you such an expert on him?” I asked. “Was yours one of the hearts that got broken?”

I had asked the question in jest, but Molly’s face was suddenly serious. “You could say that.”

“I’m sorry. I had no idea. What happened?”

“Well, I liked him for ages and finally got sick of dropping hints, so I asked him out.” She said it offhandedly as if it had happened a long time ago and no longer mattered.

“And?” I prompted.

“And nothing.” She shrugged. “He turned me down. He was polite about it, told me he saw me as a friend. But it was still the single, most humiliating moment of my life.”

I couldn’t tell Molly that what she’d described didn’t sound so bad. In fact, Xavier’s conduct could have been seen as honest, even honorable. When Molly had talked about broken hearts she’d made him sound like some kind of villain. All he’d really done was decline an invitation in the best way he knew how. But I’d learned enough so far about female friendship to know that sympathy was the only acceptable response.

“It’s not right,” Molly continued accusingly. “He walks around looking gorgeous, being friendly to everyone, but won’t let anyone get close to him.”

“But does he mislead girls into thinking he wants more than friendship?” I asked.

“No,” she admitted, “but it’s still completely unfair. How can anyone be too busy for a girlfriend? I know it sounds harsh, but he has to move on from Emily sometime. It’s not like she’s coming back. Anyway, enough about Mr. Perfect. I hope you can make it to my place on Friday—it’ll take our minds off annoying boys.”

“The point of us being here isn’t to socialize,” said Gabriel when I asked permission to go to Molly’s on Friday.

“But it would be rude of me not to go,” I objected. “Besides, it’s Friday night—no school the day after.”

“Go if you wish, Bethany,” said my brother with a sigh. “I would have thought there’d be more profitable ways to spend an evening, but it’s not for me to prevent you.”

“It’s just this once,” I said. “I won’t be making a habit of it.”

“I should hope not.”

I didn’t like the implication behind his words and the subtle suggestion that I was already losing focus. But I didn’t let that ruin my mood—I wanted to experience all facets of human life. After all, it might give me a better understanding of our mission.

By seven o’clock I had showered and changed into a fitted green wool dress. I teamed the dress with ankle boots and dark tights and even put on some of the lip gloss Molly had given me. I was pleased with the result; I looked a little less like my usual pale self.

“There’s no need to dress up, you’re not going to a ball,” Gabriel said when he saw me.

“A girl must always endeavor to look her best,” Ivy said in my defense and gave me a wink. She might not have been pleased about my plans to spend time with Molly and her gang, but she wasn’t the type to harbor a grudge. She knew when to let things go in order to keep the peace.

I kissed them both good-bye and headed out the front door. Gabriel had wanted to drive me over to Molly’s in the black Jeep that we’d found parked in the garage, but Ivy had managed to talk him out of it, telling him there was plenty of daylight left and it was perfectly safe as Molly’s house was only streets away. I accepted Gabriel’s offer to pick me up, though, and agreed to call when I was ready to come home.

I felt a rush of pleasure walking to Molly’s that night. Winter was drawing to a close, but the breeze ruffling my dress was still chilly. I breathed in the clean scent of the ocean coupled with the smell of crisp evergreens. I felt privileged to be there, walking on the earth, a breathing, sentient being. It was so much more exhilarating than observing life from another dimension. Looking down from Heaven on the teeming life below was like watching a show. Being on the actual stage might be more frightening, but it was also more thrilling.

My mood changed when I got to 8 Sycamore Grove. I looked up at the house, thinking I must have copied the number down wrong. The front door was wide-open and it seemed that every light inside was on. Music boomed from the front room and scantily dressed teenagers swaggered out onto the front porch. This couldn’t be it. I checked the address that Molly herself had written on a slip of paper and saw that I hadn’t made a mistake. Then I recognized some faces from school and a few people waved to me. I headed up the steps of the bungalow-style house and almost bumped into a boy retching over the side of the veranda.

I considered turning and going straight home, inventing a headache as an excuse for Ivy and Gabriel. I knew they would never have allowed me to come had they known what Molly’s “girls” night really involved. But my curiosity prevailed, and I decided to go inside just long enough to say hello to Molly and offer my apologies before making a rapid exit.

There was a crush of bodies in the front hallway, which was pungent with smoke and cologne. The music was so loud people had to shout into each other’s ears to be heard. The shaking floor and the lurching dancers made me feel like I was trapped in the middle of an earthquake. The driving beat was so loud it shattered against my eardrums, making me cringe. I could feel hot breath on my cheeks, smell beer and bile in the air. The whole scene was so painfully overwhelming I was almost knocked off balance. But this was human life, I thought to myself, and I was determined to experience it firsthand even if it did make me feel ready to collapse. So I took a deep breath and pushed on.

There were young people in every corner and recess, some smoking, some drinking, and others just draped over each other. I wound my way through the crowd and watched in fascination a group playing a game that I heard someone call Treasure Hunt. It involved girls standing in a row while boys aimed marshmallows at their cleavages from an easy distance. Once successful they had to retrieve the marshmallows using only their mouths. The girls laughed and squealed as the boys burrowed their heads into their chests.

I couldn’t see Molly’s parents anywhere. They must have gone away for the weekend. I wondered how they’d react to seeing their home in its current state of mayhem. In the back living room, couples lay entwined in drunken affection on the brown leather couches. I could see empty beer bottles strewn on the floor, and the snacks of corn chips and M&M’s that Molly had put out in glass bowls had been ground into the carpet. I spotted the familiar face of Leah Green, one of the girls from Molly’s group, and made my way over to her. She was standing by glass doors that opened onto a wide deck area and a pool.

“Beth! You made it!” she shouted over the music. “Great party!”

“Have you seen Molly?” I shouted back.

“In the hot tub.”

I squirmed out of the grasp of an inebriated boy who was trying to drag me into the mêlée of dancers and dodged another who called me “bro” and tried to give me a bear hug. A girl pulled him off me apologetically. “Sorry about Stefan,” she yelled. “He’s wasted already.”

I nodded and slipped outside, making a mental note to add the new words to the glossary I was compiling.

More empty bottles and cans littered the ground outside, and I had to pick my way carefully around them. Despite the cold, teenagers in bikinis and shorts lounged by the pool and crowded the hot tub. The lights threw an eerie blue glow over the frolicking bodies. Suddenly a naked boy streaked past me and dived into the pool. He emerged shivering but looking pleased with the loud cheers he drew from the others. I tried not to look as horrified as I felt.

I felt a flood of relief when I finally located Molly sandwiched between two boys in the hot tub. Seeing me, she hoisted herself out, stretching like a cat, and lingered long enough for the boys to admire her wet, toned body.

“Bethie, when did you get here?” she said in a singsong voice.

“Just now,” I said. “Has there been a change of plans? What happened to the facials?”

“Oh, babe, we ditched that idea!” Molly said as if this detail was of minor importance. “My auntie’s sick, so Mom and Dad are out of town for the weekend. Couldn’t pass on an opportunity to
partay
!”

“I’ve just come in to say hello. I can’t stay,” I said. “My brother thinks we’re testing out face masks.”

“Well, he isn’t here, is he?” Molly grinned mischievously. “And what Brother Gabriel doesn’t know can’t hurt him. Come on, just have one drink before you head off. I don’t want you in trouble because of me.”

In the kitchen we met up with Taylah, who was standing behind the kitchen counter mixing something in a blender. An impressive array of bottles were scattered around her. I read a few of the labels: Caribbean white rum, single malt scotch, whiskey, tequila, absinthe, Midori, bourbon, champagne. The names didn’t mean much to me. Alcohol had been omitted from my training—a gap in my education.

“Can I get two Taylah Specials for Beth and me?” Molly asked, draping her arms around her friend and swaying her hips in time to the music.

“Comin’ right up,” said Taylah, filling two cocktail glasses almost to the brim with a greenish brew.

Molly shoved one of the drinks into my hand and took a big gulp of her own. We made our way into the living room. The music was blaring so loudly from two colossal speakers positioned in the corners of the room that even the floor was vibrating. I sniffed my drink cautiously.

“What’s in this?” I asked Molly over the din.

“It’s a cocktail,” she said. “Cheers!”

I took a swig out of politeness and regretted it instantly. It was sickly sweet but at the same time burned my throat. Determined not to be labeled a buzzkill, I continued sipping at the mixture. Molly was enjoying herself and led me into the seething mass of dancers. For a few minutes we danced together, and then I lost sight of her, and a throng of strangers closed in around me. I tried to find a gap in the bodies to worm through and escape, but the moment one appeared it closed up again just as quickly. Several times I noticed that each time my glass was empty it was refilled as if by invisible servers.

By now I was feeling light-headed and unsteady on my feet. I blamed it on my being unused to loud music and crowds. I sipped at my drink, hoping it would refresh me. Gabriel was always going on about the importance of keeping our bodies hydrated.

I was just finishing my third cocktail when I felt an overwhelming desire to sink down to the floor. But I didn’t reach it. Instead, I felt a strong hand take hold of me and lead me away from the throng. The grip around my arm tightened when I stumbled. I let my weight be supported and allowed the stranger to guide me outside. There, I was helped onto a garden bench where I sat doubled over, still holding the empty glass.

“You might want to go easy on that stuff.”

The face of Xavier Woods came slowly into focus. He was wearing faded jeans and a fitted long-sleeved gray top. It made his chest look broader than it appeared in his school uniform. I pushed the hair out of my eyes and felt that my forehead was damp with sweat.

“Go easy on what?”

“Um . . . what you’re drinking . . . because it’s pretty strong,” he said as if stating the obvious.

The liquid was starting to churn in my stomach now and my head was throbbing. I knew I wanted to say something, but the words failed to form, interrupted by waves of nausea. Instead I leaned weakly against Xavier, feeling close to tears.

“Does your family know where you are?” he asked.

I shook my head, which made the garden spin dangerously.

“How much of that have you had to drink?”

“I don’t know,” I mumbled groggily. “But it doesn’t seem to agree with me.”

“Do you drink often?”

“This is my first time.”

“Oh, jeez.” Xavier shook his head. “That would explain why you’re such a lightweight.”

“A what . . .” I lurched forward, nearly tumbling onto the ground.

“Whoa.” Xavier caught me. “I think I’d better drive you home.”