The Hourglass Door (19 page)

Jason pulled out a chair at a table two places in front of me and sat down without even looking at me.

Everyone else in the class, though, looked from Jason sitting next to Melissa Cooper back to the empty seat next to me.

The whispers rustled through the room like dead autumn leaves skittering across cement. The sound made the hairs on my arm stand up.

I let my head fall on my crossed arms on the table.
Don’t cry,
I told myself sternly.
It’s only one class. You can hold out for fifty-five minutes.
I deliberately didn’t think about the agony the lunch hour was sure to bring.

A dull thump sounded next to my ear. Peeking out of the corner of my right eye, I saw a black leather backpack blocking my view. The empty chair squealed in protest as someone pulled it back sharply across the waxed linoleum floor. A familiar musky-sweet scent reached my nose.

I sat up straight in my chair, my mouth dropping open in amazement as Dante sat down in the chair next to me. He raked his hair out of his eyes with one gloved hand and then flipped open his notebook, copying down the notes written on the board.

The whispers rose in the room like high tide. I felt the eyes jumping from me to Jason to Dante back to Jason and back to me, around and around in ever-tightening spirals until I could almost hear the instant the realization clicked for everyone in class: I wasn’t with Jason anymore; I was with Dante.

Knowing how fast the gossip would spread, I felt torn between wanting to make some kind of announcement that no, everyone had it all wrong, and feeling a secret thrill that maybe, yes, everyone was exactly right.

Did that make me a bad person? A bad friend? I chewed on my hangnail. Why couldn’t these things be painless? Why did someone always have to get hurt?

Melissa inched her chair closer to Jason, grinning.

On opposite sides of the room, Lily and Sarah both flipped open their cell phones, fingers flying over the tiny keys.

Robert turned around in his chair, muttering to Jason, flicking glances past Jason’s shoulder to me and Dante. I saw Jason shake his head once, then twice, cutting across Robert’s words with an angry gesture of his hand.

“What are you doing here?” I whispered to Dante.

He paused in writing down his notes. His changeling eyes were the color of clear white-blue water. “Transferring.” A small smile played around his lips. “I’m sorry, Abby, have I taken someone’s seat? Would you like me to sit somewhere else?”

“No, it’s fine. It’s just . . . I mean, I thought after Friday . . .” Flustered, I sighed, trying to organize my thoughts, trying to ignore the gossip and speculation churning around me. “How’s your arm?” I finally said.

A rim of frost hardened around Dante’s eyes. “It’s fine.”

“Good,” I sighed with relief. “Did you talk to Leo about what happened? I know you said you didn’t want to but—”

“Abby, it’s fine,” he said firmly, turning to a clean page in his notebook.

“Oh. Okay.” I fumbled my history book out of my backpack, plunking it down on the table between us. “Sorry I asked.”

He leaned close to whisper in my ear, “Thank you for your concern, but honestly, my arm is fine.” And to prove it, he reached around my shoulders with his left hand and pulled my chair closer to his. The squeak of the chair and the stares of the class only made his smile wider. For the first time, I noticed a dimple hiding in the corner of his grin.

I shook my head. What was I doing, noticing his smile at a time like this? What was
he
doing, flirting with me at all? Didn’t he know Jason had broken up with me mere hours ago? What game was he playing? He couldn’t get away from me fast enough on Friday night, and today, he couldn’t get close enough?

“
Rilassati,
Abby,” he continued to whisper into the shell of my ear, his breath sweet on my skin. “With any luck, Zo’s performance will have worked its way through the school in a few days. Don’t worry—things will be back to normal soon enough.”

Before I could respond to this confusing statement, Ms. McGreevey rapped her ruler against her desk, calling the class to order.

Dante scrawled a note, angling his notebook so I could read his perfectly flowing script:
Meet me before rehearsal?
The bottom of his “t” tilted up with a little hook.

I pulled the page closer and wrote a reply:
Sorry—Mtg Valerie.

Dante nodded his understanding.
After?
The tail of his “f” reached all the way to the next line; it looked like an “s” sliding across the page.

I hesitated, wondering what I was getting myself into, then wrote:
OK.

“I have a couple of announcements before we begin today,” Ms. McGreevey said. “First, Mr. Thompson has asked us to remind all students that tickets for the school play,
Much Ado about Nothing,
will be on sale beginning next Monday. Opening night tickets for February 27 are buy one, get one free, so make sure you purchase your tickets early.”

Butterflies beat their slow wings in my stomach. I wasn’t ready to think about opening night so soon.

“Second, Principal Adams has been receiving reports of suspicious activity on school grounds—fights, graffiti, and the like. There have also been some thefts from the school library
and
the workshop on campus. He is urging us all to keep a sharp eye out for individuals who are not students enrolled in the school who may be hanging about the building or grounds. I hope it goes without saying that if any of you see anything suspicious, you will report it to me or to Principal Adams.” Ms. McGreevey peered at us over her long nose.

I glanced at Dante, who had grown still and thoughtful next to me. On an impulse, I jotted a name on his paper:
Zo?
I bumped his elbow, flicking my eyes to the paper.

He followed my gaze, saw what I had written, and his gray eyes clouded over. He drew a thick X over Zo’s name and then closed his notebook, resting his hand on the cover.

Curiouser and curiouser,
I thought, tapping my pen against my finger. What was going on between those two? I would have thought they’d be good friends since they had a shared history, but instead, they had clashed almost every time I’d seen them together.

“Pop quiz,” Ms. McGreevey announced, and I, along with the rest of the class, groaned, but pulled out a sheet of paper.

During the quiz, Dante hummed a lilting, haunting melody under his breath, and before I knew it, class was over.

Maybe sitting next to Dante wouldn’t be so bad after all.

~

I sat alone at the lunch table, not sure who, if anyone, would be joining me. I wasn’t betting on Jason—not after history—and sure enough, he walked past me to sit down two tables away with Robert and his other friends. I tried not to show my hurt. I didn’t even have my hopes up that Dante would join me. Ms. McGreevey had asked him to stay after class. As long-winded as she was in class, she was generally even worse
after
class. There was no telling when Dante would be released.

I hadn’t seen Valerie all day, which was bad since we’d planned to meet before rehearsal. I set my sandwich down as I spied Natalie strolling into the lunchroom, a pair of dark sunglasses banded across her eyes. I half-stood and waved my hand to get her attention. She picked her way carefully through the crowd, wincing and flinching at every loud laugh, every bang of the trays on the tables.

Collapsing in the seat across from me, she dropped her head in her hands and proclaimed in tones of profound hurt, “Ugh.”

“Ugh, indeed,” I agreed.

“Oof, not so loud.” Natalie pulled off her sunglasses and pressed her hands to her closed eyes. “I keep thinking this headache will go away, but I can’t seem to shake it.”

“Do you need some aspirin?” I reached for my purse but Natalie waved it away.

“I’ve got so much Extra-Strength Excedrin in me, I don’t dare take anything else.”

“How long—”

“Friday.” Natalie folded her arms and rested her head on the table. “If this is what a hangover feels like, I’m glad I’ve never gotten drunk.”

“Are you going to make it the rest of the day?”

“I have to.” Natalie roused herself from the table and scraped her hair back with her hands. “I have a test in math I can’t miss.”

“But if you’re sick . . .”

“I’ll be fine,” she said unconvincingly. She pasted on a crooked smile. “Tell me what’s going on with you, Abs.”

“You mean before or after my life ended?”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“What do you mean what do I mean? I figured it would be all over school by now. Jason broke up with me. On Valentine’s.”

Natalie waved away my words. “Yeah, you and the rest of the school.”

“What do you mean?”

“What do you mean what do I mean?” she parroted back. “
Everyone
broke up on Valentine’s. Ben and Sarah. Lizzy and Chandler. Eve and Will.” She ticked the names off on her fingers. She made a face. “Natalie and Chris.”

“What? It was your first date!”

“First and last, apparently.” She shrugged.

“So what
did
happen?”

“Valentine’s happened.” She stole the cookie from my lunch, crumbling it between her fingers.

“Hey—” I swiped the cookie back and stuffed it in my lunch bag. “Now talk. Tell me everything.”

“What’s to tell? Chris picked me up Friday night. I looked
stunning,
by the way. We were having a great time at the dance. Zero Hour played and we danced to every song. Then Chris took me home and as we pulled into my driveway—bam—he told me he didn’t want to see me again. Said he’d been thinking about one of the songs Zero Hour played—you know the one: ‘
The world is older than we imagine, Time more fluid than we think.’ ”
She sang the lyrics in her low alto voice and I felt the hairs stand up on my arms. She shook her head. “Anyway, Chris made up something about how he didn’t want to waste what little time he had left dating just one girl. How he wanted to branch out and live life to the fullest. I swear it’s like he was going through a midlife crisis. He’s only seventeen, Abby!” She jammed her sunglasses back on. “That’s when this killer headache started and it hasn’t left yet.”

I sat stunned for a minute. I didn’t know what to say. Finally, I managed, “Oh, Nat, I’m sorry,” but it came out sounding as helpless as I felt.

“Maybe it was for the best, you know? I mean, I just said yes to the dance to be nice. I don’t know if I really saw a future with Chris.”

I couldn’t help it. My glance darted to where Jason sat with Robert. He ran his hand through his curls, and I felt my skin prickle. How many times had I seen him do that casual gesture? Hundreds, if not thousands. I knew so much about Jason—his habits, his quirks—could things really be over between us? I couldn’t quite believe it. Yes, we’d still be friends, but I knew it wouldn’t really be the same. What had happened to my future with Jason?

Dante walked through my field of vision, heading for the doors. Hunched down in his dark coat, he flipped up his collar with a snap and pushed out into the afternoon light. I thought I saw him favoring his left arm, but maybe it was my imagination. The cut Zo had inflicted had been deep. I worried I hadn’t patched Dante up well enough, despite his demonstration in history.

Natalie followed my gaze. “So he
is
still alive.”

I startled, the feel of Dante’s hot blood and hotter skin a tangible memory on my fingers. “What? Why do you say that?”

“Oh, just that no one has seen him around school much lately. Rumor was he’d had a run-in with an old enemy”—Natalie lowered her voice dramatically—“who was looking for vengeance.” She laughed. “How do these stupid rumors get started anyway?”

In my memory, I could see clearly the white-hot slice of Zo’s blade as it cut through shadows and skin. I managed a smile for Natalie, grateful I didn’t need to formulate a reply. Apparently the news of our breakup wasn’t the only story Jason had been telling over the long weekend. I was relieved that the tale had quickly devolved into rumor. I just hoped Dante didn’t think I’d been the one telling his secrets.

“Rumors or not, he’s a strange one, isn’t he?” Natalie continued, stealing a swallow from my water bottle.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, he seems so secretive. He’s unpredictable—never where you think he’s supposed to be. And he’s always wearing those strange gloves.” Natalie rubbed her own hands together. “I don’t know. There’s just something—odd—about him. Janey tried to talk to him every day in biology for a whole week but he just ignored her. I would think he was being rude, but he ignores everyone. Well, everyone but you. He must really like you.”

“And that makes him odd?”

“No, no,” Natalie stammered. “I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just that you’re the only person he talks to or spends any time with.”

“I’m sure he has other friends . . .” I started to say, trailing off as Natalie shook her head.

“If he does, they’re not from around here. Haven’t you noticed, Abby? Practically the entire female population of the school would kill for the chance to get close to him, but every time they see him, he’s with you.”