Lunangelique (The Lunangelique Series) (12 page)

I grab Cole’s hand. “I didn’t know he was an artist?” I implore at the same time Cole says, “I didn’t know he was going to be here.” Cole has a surprised and
scared
look on his face.

“Are you okay?” I ask him.

“Yeah,” his face softens. “I’m just surprised and a little mad that he didn’t tell me.”

I reach up and stroke his face reassuringly. I feel bad for him at the moment but before I can say anything comforting to him the curator begins to present Edmund and Cole to the audience and he has to leave my side. There is much clapping before the curator gently quiets everyone and then leads them into the wing where Edmund’s art is displayed.

Cole quickly disappears into the wing to begin playing for the guests as they mingle and move throughout the room. I hang back until everyone is inside before I walk in.

Edmund’s theme is a mix of mythology and religion. The paintings depict the story of Creation told through Greek mythology and ends with a war among the Angels. Why he chose to mix the two themes is beyond me. If it was me, I would have separated the two so I can have two art exhibits.

I have to admit the flow of it creates a beautiful effect. He uses a softer palette, choosing to blend colors, instead of contrasting bold colors. Something that I favor in my artwork too, like Michelangelo or Monet.

Cole’s music creates a lovely dreamscape for the worthy VIP viewers. I’m lost in the artwork as my body sways to the ebb and flow of the music. As I stand in front of a painting of Hermes I image what it would be like to fly through the sky with the Earth far below me. Flying would be the ultimate adventure.

I slowly move to the next painting, forcing my feet to lift into the air and take off on winged sandals. I don’t take my eyes off Hermes until I’m standing directly in front of the next painting.

What I see makes my throat constrict. I swallow hard at a nervous lump in my throat as I stare mesmerized by the painting of
Selene
, the Greek moon goddess. The picture depicts her sullenly straddling a crescent moon, she has her elbows propped up on the tip of the crescent and her head is resting in her hands as she sadly gazes down at the Earth, watching a blond haired man sleep in the shadow of a mountain. She is wearing a subtle transparent silver Greek gown but Edmund depicted her in such a way as to not show her nudeness beneath the gown. On her head is a gold crown shaped like the crescent moon.

What makes my throat constrict, causes a nervous lump in my throat, my body to sweat and my hands to start shaking is, when I look at Selene, I’m looking at me. It seems like Edmund has put my face into his artwork!
How is that possible!

I feel people moving in from behind me and I turn to make my way across the room before someone can point out the resemblance and assume I’m one of Edmund’s models. I don’t want to be caught standing in front of my own resemblance. I’m so embarrassed.  Before I can flee the painting, a hand grabs my arm and I look up to see it was Edmund who had come up behind me.

“It’s not you. I promise,” he says to me as he senses my embarrassment.

“How can it not be?” I say in a low, husky tone as my voice breaks. My throat still feels constricted, disabling me from talking further. I start to take deep breaths to calm myself and Edmund offers me a glass of water he had been carrying. I take it greedily, wanting to clear my throat and calm down before I hyperventilate in front of everyone.

He releases my arm. “For one thing,” he starts as I chug the water and continue to take deep breaths, “I painted it before I met you.” He points to the date on the description card. “And for another thing, the muse was someone I loved and lost. The similarities are coincidental,” he assures me.

It doesn’t seem very coincidental to me and I’m still not convinced. I stare Edmund down until I notice that Cole is no longer playing and I excuse myself to go find him. When he sees me, his mouth drops open and he rushes to my side, embracing me and asking me what happened. I let him take me back into the atrium where a buffet is laid out with drinks. He grabs me a glass of wine and then leads me into a wing that holds Egyptian artifacts.

“What happened?” he asks me again after he sits me down on a bench before sitting next to me, running his hand up and down my bare back.

“I don’t know,” I admit my confusion and try to choke back my tears. He takes my glass of wine and holds it up to my lips to coax me to drink it, in the hopes I’ll calm down. I take a gulp and cough.

“Shh… Shh...,” he soothes me, putting the glass down and cups my head in his hands, wiping the tears from my face with his thumbs as he makes me look at him.

“I’m just really confused right now.” I give him some kind of answer as I try to pull myself together. He takes it the wrong way though.

“About us?” He looks hurt and confused.

“No, no, no. Well partly.” I wipe my nose with the back of my hand. “Edmund has a painting in there and the resemblance is a little too close for comfort.” Cole’s face drains of color and he swallows hard. I don’t let on that I notice his scared, guilty look, just like I don’t let on all the other things that are bothering me about him and his weird reactions. Things that are adding up and he will have to account for soon. But not here. I need to piece a few more things together.

“You should go back in there. I’m just going to collect myself and then clean up in the bathroom before heading back,” I tell him.

He doesn’t say anything. He quietly gets up and goes back into the visiting art wing. I finish the glass of wine and make my way into the bathroom to use lots of paper towels to blow my nose, dry my face free of tears and wash my hands. After I’m finished I smile at myself in the mirror, trying to put on a poker face to hide the feelings I have inside. I walk out of the bathroom, practicing my smile on two women who are walking into the bathroom. They seem convinced as they give me winning smiles back so I proceed to Edmund’s wing and continue my viewing of the paintings, avoiding the one that ruined my night. And avoiding Edmund, which turns out to be easy because he is surrounded by adoring fans and prospective buyers.

When Cole finishes his second set, he is bombarded with his own set of admirers. I stand back and watch him handle them all with comfort and ease, finally excusing himself to come to me. I give him my own adoring smile as he walks up to me and kisses me softly, which gives us some coos and awes from some older ladies standing near us. I smile, coyly at them and Cole nods his acknowledgement as he takes my hand and leads me back to the conference room so he can pack up.

“Are you feeling better?” he asks me while he gently lays his violin back in its case.

“I’m starting too,” I tell him, watching him zip up his case.

“Good,” he gives me a small smile. “Do you want to stay and walk around the museum or just go?”

“Let’s just go,” I breathe out restlessly.

“Want to get home early and rest up for school tomorrow?” he teases me.

“Not really,” I answer truthfully. “I hate that summer is over and I won’t be able to spend as much time with you as I want.”

His smile lights up his entire face in response to my answer. He looks at his watch. “It’s only eight o’clock. Let’s go grab something to eat.”

My stomach growls right on cue, liking the suggestion. “Yeah, I haven’t eaten since lunch time.”

“Me neither. What can you go for?”

“A sandwich,” I automatically reply.

He chuckles. “Of course, why did I even ask?” He grasps my hand and we walk out to his car.

He drives down toward the beach and we stop at sandwich shop to pick up some food. I feel so self-conscious dressed up in an informal restaurant. Everyone is eyeing us and I know they are talking about us amongst themselves. I’m relieved to take our food and leave instead of eating there.

When we get back to Cole’s house, he walks me back home so we can eat. I’m really happy that Cole is making an effort to make himself comfortable at my house. We greet everyone that is hanging back in the living room and take our food into the kitchen. After setting up our food at the counter, I change my mind and tell him to follow my lead as I lead him to the outside patio. There is a look of relief on his face.

“Sorry, I wanted more privacy while we ate. It felt a little weird having them watch us,” I tell him.

“I’m grateful,” he admits. “I’m not used to the whole ‘meeting the parents’ routine. It feels strange.”

“Yeah, I got the impression,” I tease him before sinking my teeth into my Asiago Roast Beef sandwich. “Mm…
almost
as good as your sandwich.” I watch as his dark eyes twinkle at my remark.

We sit in comfortable silence for the rest of our meal. And then I sit back, stuffed and just stare into the night for awhile before Cole remarks, “So, first day back at school tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” I huff out. “Don’t remind me. But at least it’s senior year. It’s almost over,” I encourage myself, like the ‘Little Engine that Could’,
I think I can, I think I can, I think I can.

“What’s your schedule like?”

“Um… Let’s see. I have AP English, Calculus and World History this semester. No fourth period but on Mondays and Thursdays, starting next week, I have to drive across town for a college art class at three o’clock. And its volleyball season right now, games start this Friday so I have to meet up with the girls for practice at least twice this week.” I sigh out a huff. It sounds like a lot but it’s really not. I didn’t even tell him about the school clubs I belong to or that swimming starts next month. He doesn’t know that most of my nights are free. “What about your schedule,” I tease him and push his leg with my foot because he is staring at the ground in deep thought.

He chuckles lightly. “Not as complicated as yours.” He ticks off his fingers as he tells me, “A freshman class, um, a sophomore class, a junior class, and I think a senior class.”

I laugh at his joke. “Wow! Sounds tough. How are we ever going to have time for us?”

I walk over to him and sit in his lap, resting my head on his chest.

“I don’t know. That’s what I was thinking.”

“We’ll have the afternoon and nights and weekends and school breaks,” I assure him. “Also, I will be practicing with Mrs. Senett on Wednesdays, during her freshman class, so we’ll see each other then. Though not like this.” I take his hand and start playing with our fingers, entwining and untwining them.

“You’re right. We’ll have plenty of time,” he admits with relief and I nod my head in agreement.

“Oh, and we have astronomy club on Friday nights. You should volunteer. Alex loves your telescope and you know so much about it,” I gush.

Instead of answering he just replies, “So, Friday nights are a no date night?”

“We don’t meet
every
Friday. I usually have a game that night that ends around seven, so Fridays are still good. And who says we have to wait till Friday to go out?”

His smile grows big. “Good.” He hugs me tighter to him before telling me, “I got to head out. I’m beat.”

I extract myself unwilling from his lap and walk him to the door in silence. When I have the front door open for him he turns to me and gives me a quick, sweet kiss that holds everything he wants the kiss to be but doesn’t feel comfortable portraying in front of my family. “Good night,” we whisper to each other and then he is gone. And I go to my room to get ready for bed and tomorrow.

Chapter 9

School starts in a fury of greetings, gushings, and acknowledgments that we are final seniors. Everywhere I go all I hear is, “Oh, my gosh, how are you,” “how was your summer,” “you cut your hair,” and “can you believe we’re seniors now.” It’s rather comical, how cliché it is.

Almost as soon as Alex and I get to school, I see Cole talking to Mrs. Senett in the hall outside their classroom. I smile to him and he smiles back with a nod and a little wave.

“Who’s the new guy?” My friend Clara walks up beside me and nods her head in the direction of Cole.

“He’s not a student,” I inform her, trying to hide the possession and jealousy in my voice. “He’s a new teacher and our new neighbor.” I keep it simple. No intimate knowledge. Just speaking the bare minimum facts.

“Is he the one…” she swings her fingers back and forth directing a connection between the two of us.

I freeze mid-step as she stumbles in her walk to come back over to me. “How…” I start to ask her how she knew.

But she sees the fear on my face. That I’m worried the story will get out. She cuts me off. “Don’t worry,” she consoles me. “No one is talking about it publicly.” She sees my next question written on my face and answers, “Nathaniel and Hope overheard Alex and Kaitlyn talking about it the other night. Don’t worry. It’s only
our
group that knows.” She refers to at least fifteen people in our inner circle of friends. My mouth drops open. “Don’t freak, please.” Clara cringes as my face turns a mean shade of red. “Really, hon, no one will purposefully give the two of you away. We’re your friends.”

I breathe a small sigh of relief. She’s right. Besides we all know so much dirt on each other that if one of us let a secret out,
all
the secrets would pour out. Clara links her arm with mine. “Come on. Let’s get this first day over with.” She pulls me to class, talking nonstop about a new guy she met at the beach.

We ignore the guys who catcall out to us. Men are so immature. When I was a freshman the guys were relentlessly slapping my butt in the hallways. I learned fast that if you hit them upside the head with a five hundred page history book, they’ll back off. It doesn’t stop them from calling you licentious names from across the hall though.

Ethan comes up to us as we are about to walk into our English class and gives us both a pinch in the butt. Clara squeals at him and I swing my bag around and hit him in the gut, making him release a gush of air with a grunt. My guy friends apparently haven’t learned a lesson about it yet. Clara laughs at him and we walk into the classroom as Ethan continues down the hall rubbing his stomach.