Gravity, a young adult paranormal romance (23 page)

I answered the door and Henry stood there in a
long sleeved shirt with his books held at his hip. He leaned with
the palm of his hand against the siding.

"Hello, doll," he said, lifting his eyebrows
at me like he often did. "You're mine now."

I felt giddy. He affected my brain like
depression medication.

"Are you ready to learn?" he asked as I let
him in.

"Ready as always," I said, and we went to the
den, which had become our tutoring room.   

"How are you doing?" he asked more cautiously
after I had shut the door and we sat down. His cautious brown eyes
went to the mark on my head.   

"Why does everyone keep asking me that?" I
asked, rubbing my temples. "I'm sick to death of saying I'm fine.
My head is healing up, so is my arm, and I didn't have a
seizure."

"I've never seen anyone have a seizure
before," he admitted. "But that's what it looked like to me." He
inspected my arm for himself. "Your cuts look better, though.
You're lucky you didn't get tetanus."  

We pulled out our books and followed the
normal routine, wading knee-deep in numbers. He seemed surprised by
how much better I was doing.

"You don't even need me anymore," he
said.

"I need you," I said quickly, and then blushed
at how I had blurted the words. He chuckled.

"Well, alright then. I'll stay."

We finished early and started chatting about
the rest of school.

"I wish there was a way to make Ms. Fellows
more interesting," Henry said, echoing my sentiments. "I almost
fall asleep in her class every day."

I laughed, agreeing. "She almost makes me hate
reading. And I thought that was near impossible. English is my
favorite."

"I told you mine is physics, right?" he
asked.

"I vaguely remember that," I said, nodding.
"When you offered to start tutoring me. What do you like so much
about it?"

"Everything is physics," he said simply. "Like
gravity, the attraction of one body to another. Why we stay on
earth instead of floating. Or between you and me, for example," he
teased with one of his token smiles.

"Yes, gravity is what keeps us together," I
said, rolling my eyes. "Or just my terrible skill at
math."

"If you don't stop saying that, I'm going to
stop helping you," he said, but I could tell he was only vaguely
irritated. "You need to stop beating yourself up."

"I have my reasons," I said.

"Really?" he asked, curious. "What are those
reasons? I'm always telling you my secrets, but I've yet to hear
any of yours."

"I don't have any secrets," I said, knowing it
wasn't true.

"Everyone has secrets, Ariel," he said. The
sound of his voice saying my name thrilled me more than was
logical; I wanted him to say it again. 

"Maybe I'll tell you someday," I
offered. 

He checked his watch, and as if on a timer, we
heard a car pull up outside.

"Time to go," he said, standing up.

"One of these days I have to find a way to
repay you," I said, following him to the den doors. He stopped in
front of me and turned around.

"Well," he started, rubbing the back of his
head, "I know it's late notice but — what do you think about the
dance coming up?"

"I think it's so stupid how into it everyone
gets," I complained, not understanding where he was going with the
question. "Two hundred dollars for a dress you're going to wear for
one night? No thanks."

"Oh." His beautiful face fell. "Then I guess
you wouldn't want to go with me then."

I nearly choked. I coughed and he patted my
back, his face concerned.

"You're asking me to go with you?" I asked
finally when I regained the ability to speak. He nodded.

"Sure," I said, the giddy feeling returning.
"I'd love to." I had imagined this moment, complete with what we
would be wearing and what his facial expressions would be, but I
figured that jinxed me from ever having it come true.

"Even though you think it's silly?" he
teased.

"Well, I'm returning the favor from you going
with me to the haunted house," I offered. Inside I had the heart of
a hummingbird, fluttering like crazy. We walked out of the den, me
behind him, grateful that he didn't see how absolutely thrilled I
was. I had to stop myself from doing a little dance.

It wasn't Henry's father who had arrived, but
Claire, who had come home from work. She was waiting for us in the
dining room. She had still not met Henry yet, and pestered me about
it endlessly, as if I should have waited for her to be home to have
him over just so she could. 

"Hi, you must be Henry. I'm Claire," she said
brightly, holding her hand out to shake. Her blonde hair was pulled
into her usual work up-do, and she wore a pinstripe suit, looking
as though she had just gotten ready instead of working for ten
hours.  

"Nice to meet you," he said. I think she was
disappointed he didn't say she looked like my sister.

"My daughter and my husband have said nothing
but great things about you," she beamed. I groaned internally. "You
really have me impressed by how much her grades are
improving."

"Well, Ariel did all the work herself," he
said modestly. "I've just been sitting there."

"I'm sure that's not true," she said, smiling
coyly. I could tell by the way she was looking at him that he had
worked his charms on her.

"It's completely true," he said. "Your
daughter is a very smart, capable girl. And I hope you don't mind,
but I asked her to be my date this weekend for the Halloween
dance."

I think I could have pushed Claire over with a
piece of paper. The excitement that glimmered in her eyes made them
sparkle. "That is just wonderful!" she said. "When did this
happen?"

"Just a few minutes ago," I said, and she
looked at me as if she had forgotten I was still in the
room.

"Well, we have to make sure you
get a great dress, and new dancing shoes..." she put her arms
around me and led me to the living room as I glared at
Henry.
I'm sorry
he mouthed with a grin.

I'm surprised Claire let Henry out of the
house when his dad showed up. By the time we said goodbye, I had
been asked about so many dance plans my head was spinning. I hoped
it was a good idea to accept, after all.   

The next day in Art, we were starting to move
on to painting. Small easels with blank canvases sat on all the
tables when we walked into the art room.

Theo looked excited. I didn't feel that way; I
inflicted more damage with paint than I did with pencils. Being
Theo's friend hadn't helped improve my skill any.  

"How are your sketches coming along for the
gallery?" I asked her as I zipped up my backpack.

"Pretty good," she said optimistically, laying
out several paintbrushes like surgical tools. "I'll have a batch
ready to show your dad by the end of November. I hate being a
perfectionist. It takes me forever to finish anything."

Suddenly, the lights flickered. I looked up at
the ceiling, pausing. Then the lights went completely out. Fear
bubbled up inside my chest for a moment, until I realized everyone
else saw it, too. Ms. Vore kept all her windows open, facing the
field, but a few girls giggled at the semi-darkness. After a moment
the lights blinked back on.

"McPherson needs to take care of that," Ms.
Vore muttered as she was walking down the aisle with a tub of
acrylic paints.  

"Is there an electrical problem?" I
asked.

Realizing she'd been heard, she grinned
sheepishly. "They've just been having wiring issues with all the
remodeling. They were flickering like crazy a few weeks ago during
parent teacher conferences. I heard they're going to schedule some
electricians soon."

I sat back in my chair, happy that for once
there was a logical reason for the lights going out.

"Why won't you tell me who your date is?" I
asked Theo, kicking a rock down the sidewalk. It was the Thursday
before the dance, and we were walking into town to go dress
shopping.

She stared straight ahead, her small face
resolute. "You'll see him on Saturday," she said. "Why is it an
issue?"

"That's precisely my question, why is it an
issue?"

She grimaced and remained silent. "Can't we
talk about something else?"

Thankfully, Claire couldn't get the afternoon
off, so we were on our own. I could only imagine the
ribbon-festooned monstrosity she would have unleashed upon me. The
air had dipped much colder, wintery, the smell of bonfires
seasoning the air. I was glad for the deep pockets of my coat as I
jammed my frigid hands into them.

A cheery bell dinged as we entered the dress
shop. The warmth inside was a relief. In the front window,
skeletons instead of mannequins were decked out in red formalwear.
Whether this was a comment on the fashion industry or just the
usual Halloween Town fun, I didn't know.

There were racks of bridal gowns and
bridesmaids dresses in a rainbow of colors, along with a bunch of
different styles of formal dresses. The store smelled strongly of
eucalyptus, jammed into tall white vases all around the
room.

"Where do we start?" Theo asked, dismayed. Her
brow puckered as she cracked her knuckles. I surveyed the dizzying
array of choices. For once, I wish I had the fashion sense of my
mother.

The eager saleslady descended on us, smelling
fresh meat. Her unnaturally tinted hair was piled tightly on her
head.

"Hello, ladies," she purred. "Looking for
dresses for the school dance?"

"How did you guess?" Theo asked, taken aback
not just by her words but by the spooky expression on the woman's
heavily made-up face.  

"My daughter goes to Hawthorne, too," she
beamed. "Shawna Jameson."

"Oh, yeah," I said, nodding. I had never heard
of the girl, but I wanted to be polite. 

Charleen, according to her nametag, guided us
over to a rack of dresses in darker tones of mauve and
olive.

"These are brand new for the winter season,"
she said. One leopard print, claw-like fingernail trailed along the
shiny, intimidating fabrics. She pulled out a pumpkin-colored two
piece with a flourish and held up to Theo. The dress dwarfed
her.

"Oh, wow," Theo said, the side of her face
twitching. I was worried she would have a stroke. "That sure is a
dress."

"Do you maybe have something
more...traditional?" I asked in the politest way I could think
of.

"Sure!" The woman crowed, and jammed the dress
back in with its companions. "Follow me, ladies!"

She led us to rack of dresses that
looked like they were leftover from my mother's prom, all poufy
sleeves and bright neon colors. Theo was biting her lip raw, trying
not to laugh. I felt the same way, although I really didn't
know
what
I was
looking for.  

"I don't know if that's exactly what we had in
mind, either," I said delicately, fiddling with the price tag on a
purple dress with blue sleeves.

"You know what, let me take a look in the
back," the woman said, not to be discouraged. She disappeared
behind a set of thick green curtains.

"This is some overpriced polyester," I said,
balking at several of the price tags.

"Yeah, we need cheap polyester, the way it's
meant to be," Theo said. "Everything in here is ugly. Let's scoot
before she locks the door and makes us play dress-up."

We escaped out of the store before Charleen
could come back out.

"What now?" Theo asked breathlessly as we were
chugging away on the pavement.

"We could try the thrift store," I suggested.
My breath was coming out in little puffs. I wondered how long snow
would hold off this year. "Not glamorous, but they might have
something. If you dig hard enough you can usually find some kind of
treasure."

It was a short walk down to the thrift store.
I hadn't been in a long time. Housed in a large building that used
to be a warehouse, the store was crammed with ceramics, dishes,
toys and clothes. As usual, the building was full of shoppers
picking through the goods. Theo followed me over to the section
with discarded dresses and costumes.

"Looks like they were cleaning out the theater
department," I observed. A decent amount of costumes hung on the
rows. We shifted the hangers and looked through the offerings. A
plaid shirt and fringed pants complete with a cowboy hat, a Native
American dress, something that looked like a deconstructed
spacesuit.

"Not seeing anything yet," Theo reported. We
moved on to the racks of formal clothes, although most of them
looked like something a hip grandma would wear.

"I like this..." Theo pulled out a long dress
covered in delicate blue and green sequins.