The Islanders (14 page)

“HOW CAN YOU BLAME ME?”
Lucas demanded for the hundredth time. “I did my best to
lose.
I called everyone I know. I called people I didn't know. No one could have tried harder to lose than I did.”

He was trailing just a few steps behind Zoey, who was marching down the street from school to the homeward-bound ferry Monday afternoon. Nina marched beside Zoey and Aisha in solidarity, although frankly, Nina could see Lucas's point. It wasn't really his fault he had been voted homecoming king. It was funny, but it wasn't his fault.

“If I could find a way to quit without offending everyone in the entire student body, I would,” he said.

“You and Louise Kronenberger.” Zoey snarled the name. “You and dial-a-slut.”

“It's not my fault I won, and it's not my fault you came in . . . that you didn't win.”

“Third,” Zoey said. “I believe what you were going to say
is that I came in third. Not even runner-up, while you, Mr. I'm-Too-Good-for-All-This-Juvenile-Stuff, Mr. Tough Guy, Mr. Way Too Cool, you win.
You
win.” She threw up her hands.

Nina looked over her shoulder at Lucas. “You thoughtless bastard,” she said, mimicking Zoey's tone.

“It's just a dumb contest,” Lucas said. “You yourself said you lost student council last year to Thor.”

Zoey spun around. “I did not lose to Thor. I
beat
Thor, I'll have you know, by eight votes.”

“Yeah, she lost to Captain America, you insensitive jerk,” Aisha said, giving Nina a wink that avoided Zoey's notice.

“K-berger,” Zoey said. “She's slept with every guy in school already.”

“Well, she hasn't slept with me yet,” Lucas grumbled. He winced, and sucked air in through his teeth. “I mean—”

“Too late, Lucas,” Nina advised, shaking her head sadly. “Now you're really in trouble.”

“Tell him he can do whatever he wants with the home­coming queen,” Zoey said to Nina. “Tell him he's the homecoming king, after all.”

“She says if you so much as look at Louise Kronenberger, you're a dead man,” Nina interpreted.

“Tell him I'm sure I'll find
someone
who's willing to take me to the homecoming game and dance, since my alleged boyfriend
will be busy,” Zoey said.

“I'll take this one,” Aisha said. “Lucas, Zoey plans to find a really great-looking, possibly rich, probably older date who will make you feel absolutely insecure, so that your whole night will be ruined thinking that she may be off making out with him.”

Lucas reached out both hands and grabbed Nina and Aisha by their shoulders. He pulled both girls to a halt. Zoey went marching on obliviously. “You two stay out of this,” Lucas said.

He broke into a trot and went after Zoey.

“He's so forceful and manly,” Aisha said mockingly.

“Twenty seconds to major lip lock,” Nina predicted.

“He's not that fast, and Zoey will mess with him for at least another minute,” Aisha said.

Nina held her arm up so that both could see her watch.

“She's stopped,” Nina said.

“Come on, Zoey,” Aisha muttered.

“Boom,” Nina announced. “Twenty-four seconds.”

“Damn.”

“By the way, Eesh, it
was
you who started the move to nominate Lucas, wasn't it?” Nina asked.

“Of course. Just don't ever tell Lucas or Zoey. I thought they'd both win.”

“That was very romantic of you,” Nina said as they resumed their walk. “I didn't think that was your style.”

“It won't be again,” Aisha said. “You see how well this worked out.”

“Down, forty-two, hut, HUT.”

The ball snapped and Jake sprang forward. One step, sharp left turn, see the ball in the quarterback's hand, grab, tuck, right turn, there's a hole!

He ran. Two yards, three yards, first down and nothing in his way—

Something like a truck hit him from out of nowhere and he went flying. He hit the grass on his back, gasping for air, but still holding the ball. He was staring up at the clear blue sky when the grinning face of his teammate appeared above him, hand outstretched.

“Didn't hurt you, did I?” Mark Simpson asked.

“Didn't hurt
me
,” Jake said, grinning ruefully. “But if you hit the running back from Bath like that next week, we might just win our homecoming game for once.”

Mark slapped him on the back. “Hey, your girl is over there again.”

“What girl?” Jake asked.

“What girl?” Mark echoed, not convinced. “I think you know what girl. But look, man, if you don't want her . . .”

“She's too smart to go out with a lousy lineman,” Jake said.

“That's it for today, ladies!” the coach yelled out. “Hit the showers. And, uh, McRoyan?”

“Yeah, coach?” Jake answered.

“Keep
both
your eyes open and you don't get hit so often.”

Jake gave a genial raised finger to the rest of the team, which laughed appreciatively at his expense.

He began to trot back to the gym, but he lagged behind as if some invisible power were pulling him backward. He stopped and watched the rest of the team run on ahead. He turned. Claire was still there, sitting on the bleachers.

He looked at her, a lonely, exquisitely beautiful figure. She drew him like the gravity of a black hole might draw a passing comet. What did she want with him? Was it all just guilt, or was there really something more?

And did it matter? Despite all his vows to himself and to the memory of Wade, he had allowed her to help him when he needed help. He had gone to that disastrous barbecue the day before. And he wanted to go to her now.

They were looking at each other across a hundred feet of grass and too many memories. If he ran to her now, it would all be over. He would have betrayed Wade at last.

He began to walk, pulling off his helmet as he went. She came down from the bleachers, graceful, perfect. He took her in his arms. Her lips opened to him.

Wade had always said he was weak. Maybe Wade was right.

But he wasn't as weak as Claire thought he was.

He pushed her away. Not roughly, gently. Then he walked away and didn't look back.

Nina wandered around the familiar deck of the ferry, enjoying the cool crisp air of Claire's cold front. The storms had swept through and left the world washed and newly perfumed. A pair of harbor seals was playing in the wake of the boat, diving and reappearing, staring in bemusement at the humans who were smiling down at them.

She sat down next to Benjamin. He had earphones on, some faint music escaping in wisps. For a while she looked at him. He was just a few feet away but unaware of her presence.
Pretty much as usual
, she thought ruefully.
Pretty much the way it's always been.

She reached over and raised one earphone. “What are you listening to?”

“Music,” Benjamin said. He switched off the music on his cell phone and pulled down the earphones so that they hung around his neck.

“Don't ask me,” Nina warned.

“Don't ask you what?”

“Don't ask me how I'm doing. Zoey's asked me how I'm
doing. Jake asked me. Aisha asked me. Lucas. Tad Crowley. Two teachers and a cafeteria worker. The entire world is very concerned with how I'm doing.”

“News travels fast,” Benjamin said. “They're just trying to be nice.”

“I know. It's getting on my nerves big time. I feel like I'm walking around with a neon sign on my head that says
victim.
I'm not weird, strange, out-there Nina anymore. Now I'm poor Nina.”

Benjamin nodded. “Tell me about it.”

“I'm supposed to start seeing the all-purpose shrink. I hear you're not allowed to graduate anymore unless you've had at least one major psychological problem requiring professional help.”

“It's very fashionable,” Benjamin agreed. “Have you considered going on
Oprah
and turning your private life into entertainment for half the country?”

“I want to do
Dr. Phil
. It's much sleazier. But actually, you know, I happen to be acquainted with someone who is the world's best expert at getting people to treat you like you're normal.”

Benjamin grinned. “It's all an act.”

“It doesn't look like an act,” Nina said sincerely. “I've never seen you feel sorry for yourself, never once.”

“Well, you want to catch me sometime in the middle of the night. Around three or four when I wake up and I can't get back to sleep. I lie there just making lists of all the jobs I'll never be able to have, and all the great places and things I'll never see. I imagine the day when I'll be walking down the street and some guys will come up and realize how helpless I really am and beat the crap out of me.”

“I didn't know you did that,” Nina said sadly.

“I've had a pretty good share of bitterness. Try having a dream sometime where you can see, see everything perfectly and then . . . wake up, and see nothing.” He forced a wry smile. “God, now I'm even depressing myself.”

“Well, we're sitting in the Depressed Losers section,” Nina said.

“Are we? Damn. I meant to sit in the Giddy Optimists section.”

“How could you know? You're blind,” Nina pointed out.

Benjamin nodded. “You'll do okay, Nina. People will get past it. Soon you'll just be weird, strange, out-there Nina again. In the meantime, screw it. You can't let the pity get to you.”

“I know you never did,” Nina said.

Benjamin sighed, then smiled. “I did my best to make pity impossible.”

“The Jell-O,” Nina said, chuckling. “Classic. You made me
blow milk through my nose. Or how about the girls' locker room when the cheerleaders were all in there?”

Benjamin laughed. “Yes, I'm the happy blind guy,” he said with just a trace of irony. “I always figure, hell, if people are going to feel sorry for you, you have to surprise them. They think they know what you are and how you must feel. So I always try to keep them guessing. Do the thing no one expects you to do—like make fun of the way you can't eat very gracefully, or make people think you've somehow found a way to turn things to your advantage. There are guys who still think somehow, they don't know how, but
somehow
I got a look at all the cheerleaders naked.”

“People admire you,” Nina said sincerely. “No one's said poor Benjamin in a long time.”

“I don't think anyone exactly admires me,” Benjamin scoffed.

“I do,” Nina said before she could think about it and stop herself. “I think you're an amazing person.”

Benjamin actually seemed to be blushing. For once he was at a loss for words. “Oh, it's . . . don't . . .”

“And you know what else?” Nina said with sudden recklessness.

“What?”

Now a lump rose in her throat, threatening to choke her.
“Well . . .” she began lamely, swallowing hard. “I . . . I kind of . . . you know, I like you.” She ended in a mutter and immediately buried her face in her hands. She peeked through her fingers. Benjamin's brow was wrinkled.

“Really?”

Nina took a deep breath. “Look, it's no big deal. It's just that I happen to think you're a cool guy and all.”

“So, it's not like you're—”

“Yes!” Nina said, exploding. “Yes, that's exactly what it's like, Benjamin. You know, you're not just blind, you're dense. If you could see, you'd still be blind. I don't know why I do like you, because you are the biggest dolt on earth sometimes.”

“So . . . So, you want to go out?”

“Duh.”

“How about homecoming? I don't have a date.”

“Okay, I'll go out with you, but it's not going to be like when we went to that concert in Portland and you acted like I was your chauffeur for the evening.”

Benjamin smiled impishly. “No one would expect to see you and me at the dance together.”

“I always figure, hell, if people are going to feel sorry for you, you have to surprise them,” Nina quoted his words back to him.

“You know, dancing with a blind guy can be dangerous.”

“That's okay,” Nina said. “When you touch me, I'll probably get hysterical.”

“Then it's a date.” ‘

“Yes,” Nina said. “It's a date.”

AISHA SAID GOOD-BYE TO ZOEY
and Lucas at Zoey's house and started the climb uphill to her home. She had just reached the first big turn when she changed her mind. If she went home right away, her mother would probably draft her into some cleanup or fix-up chore, which, on top of her homework, would pretty well kill the night.

And it was Monday. On Monday nights Passmores' closed now, which meant Christopher wouldn't be cooking.

She took the turn that led back to Leeward Drive. Maybe Christopher would be home, maybe not. But she'd rather spend time with him than go straight home. Their date Saturday had been the most romantic evening of her life. And it had been followed by Sunday, when they had gone swimming together down at the pond. Far from making her feel that she had seen enough of him for a while, their time together seemed to have had the opposite effect.

Too bad he wasn't still in school. Too bad he worked so
much. She had to get an hour of him here and a few hours there. “It's official, girl,” she told herself. “You've got it big time.”

Maybe she should tell Christopher how she felt now. She never had, and he'd never asked her. At least, neither of them had spoken the dreaded
L
-word.

It would probably scare him to death
, Aisha thought. He'd probably think she was crazy.

But on the other hand, he might feel the same way himself.

Aisha savored that possibility, turning it over in her mind. If she said it first, maybe he would say it, too.

Although it would be better still if he said it first. That way she wouldn't face the possibility that he would just look at her with his mouth gaping and stammer.

She walked along the road, energized by the coolness of the late afternoon. The beach to her right was half-devoured by high tide, and the sun was already dropping precipitously toward the horizon. The days shortened early in Maine. Soon it would be dark as night by five.

She reached the ramshackle Victorian and, now familiar with the routine, went on inside and up the stairs, humming with anticipation.

Maybe she would tell him, and maybe she wouldn't. Maybe she would wait for him to be the first. It was a dumb game, but then, she had abandoned all pretense to being sensible where
Christopher was concerned.

She knocked on his door. There was a sound inside, and her heart leapt happily. He was home.

Aisha straightened her hair with a quick swipe of her hand just as the door opened.

He stood there in shorts and no shirt, and Aisha decided right then and there—she loved him. She should tell him and to hell with games.

“Hi,” she said, smiling.

“Aisha,” he said in a low whisper.

She stood on her toes to kiss him, but he pulled back. Over his shoulder Aisha saw a movement.

She searched his eyes, which had gone opaque and evasive.

“This isn't a good time,” Christopher said. “I didn't know you were coming over.”

Again the flash of movement, and now Aisha could see more clearly as the girl with impossibly long blond hair rolled off Christopher's bed and stood up.