Shuffle: A Novel Part 15

"It's going to be awkward explaining to my mom why I need her to drive me to Denver tomorrow. Or, I mean, whenever they fix it."

"I'd be happy to chauffeur," offered Arbor.

Ellen stepped up to him. She was so short; she barely came up to his chest. But she poked him in the breastbone repeatedly as she said, "If it weren't for you being so creepy, I would never have had to come down here in the first place! Alone with you? Evi can chance it from now on, but me? No thanks."

Arbor nodded. He dug in his pocket and held out the keys. "I'll lend you my car, then. Until your usual mode of transportation is once again available."

Ellen threw her hands up, a confused and angry look on her face. "Who talks like that?"

"As you said, this little misadventure was my idea."

He was serious. Ellen still looked suspicious, but I could tell she was starting to soften.

"No," she waved the keys away. "I'll get Shelby to give me a ride. No big deal."

A tow truck swung around the corner and we were washed in light. Ellen went to talk to the driver, and Arbor and I hung back, waiting by his Benz.

"Arbor, I know you're not going to give me any answers, but I need something more to go on." I fiddled nervously with the hem of my t-s.h.i.+rt, looking down at my sodden feet. "I feel like lately my life has just become, like... a gigantic jigsaw puzzle. And a lot of the pieces are missing. I'm never going to be able to fit it all together."

"A jigsaw puzzle?" I lifted my eyes. His face was perfectly even, but I could tell he was considering what I had said. "An interesting metaphor. And I suppose, from your perspective, accurate."

"What do you mean, 'from my perspective?'"

He shot me a black look. "Things are not always what they seem."

This was his final word on the matter. Ellen got things sorted out with her car, and we set off for Stevens Peak through the last of the rain. The highway gleamed under a sheen of water and motor oil. Clouds parted behind the mountains and scattered drops fell from a turbid sunset.

It was one of those 'deafening silence' situations you read about.

G.o.d, I was glad to get home.

Chapter Nine.

I spent most of that night in a daze, hearing Arbor's words run through my mind in an endless loop. Things are not always what they seem.

So what? Isn't that one of life's main lessons? Seriously, big whoop! Does he mean that he isn't what he seems? That the statue wasn't what it seemed?

Okay Evi, stop being ridiculous.

I was getting absolutely nowhere. I ended up kissing Callie on the cheek and trudging up to bed a little early, at around nine o'clock. I made sure that my Arbor-catcher was set up. He'd implied that he wasn't the one who'd stolen the shoes out of my room. But if I know one thing about him for certain, it's this: Arbor lies.

And so I can't fully trust anything he says. Ever.

The night was blessedly dreamless, and the morning routine. Wednesday. School again. Le grumble.

Arbor met me at my locker and walked me to Latin. I could see Ellen giving us the old side-eye as we pa.s.sed her. I whipped my head around quickly and stuck out my tongue. She wrinkled her nose at me, then turned back to her locker to hang up her coat and grab her books before cla.s.s.

"So, this is new," I said.

"Do you mind?"

I shrugged. "No." We walked a few feet in silence. "But it does kind of bother me that people think I'm a s.l.u.tty Mcs.l.u.tmeister."

"A what?"

I shook my head. "Never mind. Technical term."

"Ah. Would it help if I asked you to the Homecoming dance?"

My heart leapt unexpectedly. Suddenly I felt light all over.

"Yes! But..."

And then reality hit. Darkness came cras.h.i.+ng in around me.

"... I can't go with you."

"No?" He stopped, drawing us out of traffic and backing me up into a wall. I could feel his heat, and this time the proximity of our bodies was almost too much for me to handle. I wanted nothing more than to lose myself in his arms. But go to the dance with Arbor? Ellen would hate me. Callie would insist on chaperoning us within an inch of our lives...

"My sister won't let me date." The words came tumbling out before I could stop them.

Two can play at the lying game.

Arbor brushed the back of his hand over my cheek, briefly, like he had the day he'd found me barely conscious by the side of the road. He left a trail of tingling sensation that I craved even before it faded. "That's a shame," he said. "You'll save a dance for me, won't you?" Then he drew back. I followed him into the cla.s.sroom on unsteady legs.

Hic, haec, hoc.

Shut up, shut up, shut up.

Arbor wasn't in all of my cla.s.ses that morning, but he might as well have been. I couldn't think of much else. I was a good enough student that I was able to take notes and still picture his face, the blank stare that only ever changed incrementally... Changes that I was just beginning to learn how to decode. The occasional fake smiles. As though with each feigned emotion, he were putting on a mask.

"'I go, and it is done; the bell invites me. Hear it not, Duncan, for it is a knell that summons thee to heaven or h.e.l.l.' Now, who can tell me about the emotions that Macbeth is experiencing in this scene? Evangeline?"

I didn't hear my name at first.

"Ms. Wild, are you with us?"

My eyes snapped into focus. Mrs. Larrabee, my AP Lit teacher, was staring down her bifocals at me, an expectant smile on her face.

"Huh? Oh... Murder. He's sort of regretting it, I guess. Regretting it in advance."

She nodded. "Not exactly poetic, Ms. Wild, but it will do. Now, who is the murderer?"

I shrugged. "Macbeth. He hears the signal that Duncan's guards are drugged, and he gets up to go kill him."

"But hear his words, Evi. I go, and it is done. Pa.s.sive voice. Macbeth does not say 'I do it.' He goes, and the deed is simply done. The bell invites me. It is a knell that summons thee to heaven or h.e.l.l. See, he considers himself to be the instrument rather than the agent of death. In Macbeth's head, he's not the murderer. More like an innocent, unwitting kitchen knife that someone just happened to pick up one day. And, you know, just happened to use to kill the king."

"So..." I tried to wrap my mind around that. "He's blaming the bell? That's cowardly."

"But what does the bell represent? Joe?"

She turned to pick on someone else. Fate, destiny, the inevitability of death. I forget what we decided on. As soon as I was out of the hot seat, I went right back to thinking about Arbor.

When the bell rang at the end of cla.s.s, Mrs. Larrabee trilled as we all filed out of the room something about "a knell that summons thee to lunch."

That I could get behind.

I plopped down in my usual spot. Ellen, Britta and Shelby were already there. The football ban had apparently been lifted, and Vi was sitting with Luke and the rest of the popular crowd. His muscular arm was draped around her, and they were feeding each other little slices of apple. Arbor was there too, talking about whatever he and the jocks found to talk about.

"Look at Amanda," hissed Britta. She was in full-on spy mode. "She's sitting next to Jim, but look at the s.p.a.ce between them." She grinned at this ominous sign. "It's bigger than the gap between Madonna's teeth."

"Bigger than the wage gap," said Ellen.

"Bigger than c.u.mberland Gap," said Shelby.

"So they're going to the dance together," I said, before the gap thing got out of hand, "but it's not exactly on like Donkey Kong."

"Fascinating." Britta was so enthralled, I figured she was about two seconds away from pulling high-powered binoculars out of her purse.

"Meanwhile Vi and Luke are being cute all over," said Shelby. "That's nice for them. She'll get invited to the cool afterparties."

"I'm going to a cool afterparty," said Ellen. "It's called my bathrobe."

"Tight."

I got up to go get a packet of chips from the a la carte line. I wasn't sure why, but I was suddenly craving salt. As I walked past the football table, I happened to catch some of the conversation. I didn't mean to... much. But what I heard made me freeze.

"So what's all this about you and that Evi Wild? You know, she was inst.i.tutionalized last summer."

Amanda swirled a french fry around in a dab of ketchup, leaning in across the table with a hungry look in her eye. I didn't think she'd seen me. But I couldn't be sure.

Arbor studied her coolly. I glanced over at him, panicking and unable to move away. He caught my gaze and held it as he answered. "Evangeline is my Latin partner," he said, "and I enjoy her company."

"But I thought you told George you weren't into her. Like, at all."

"My opinion has changed," said Arbor, simply. "It's not easy to resist the most beautiful girl at Peaks High."

What? Oh holy G.o.d. I hurried away, heart pounding.

I didn't stop at the a la carte line, either. I went straight to my locker and opened it, looking in the mirror for some evidence that what Arbor was saying was the truth.

Pudgy, freckly face. Nice eyes, I suppose, but lots of people have those. G.o.d, and the hair.

I slammed the locker shut.

Arbor lies, Arbor lies, Arbor lies...

"Hi ho."

When Callie came to pick me up after school, there was a tag-along in her car. Lieutenant Tobias Collier. He smiled warmly and winked at me as I got in the backseat. It's gross back there, all plastic-y because sometimes they have to arrest drunks. And sometimes the drunks vomit.

"Sorry," she said, apologetically.

"No worries. I can pretend I'm a crime lord or something. Is Lieutenant Collier staying for dinner?"

"Actually, I was going to drop him at his house, but..." Callie turned to Toby, casually. "Want to?"

"Sure," he said. "What are we having?"

"I don't know yet," Callie frowned. "It's either going to be marshmallow-chicken-soup-brownie-bars..."

"... or ketchup-deviled-egg-tater-tot-ca.s.serole," I supplied.

"At least," she shrugged, "that's what we've got lying around."

I could see Toby's shoulders shaking with laughter. "I would like to have all of those things separately."

"Ooh, tall order."

"Yeah," I shook my head. "VIP treatment. But you're worth it, right Cal?"

"Definitely worth it," said Callie. I think she blushed a little.

Um they should totally date like, right now. Too bad my sister is the most cautious person ever about romance. And from what I'd seen of Toby, he was pretty shy. Probably even more so around someone as young and beautiful as Callie. I wondered if he'd ever been married before. I wondered if he'd ever been in love before.

Questions were for later. First, the Wild girls would entertain.

We pulled into our driveway and Callie swept into the house ahead of us, probably scurrying to pick up whatever random embarra.s.sments were piled around the kitchen. I offered to hang Toby's coat and get him a gla.s.s of water. By the time we sat down at the table, everything was clean and as bright as a whistle. Callie had even put her roses in a vase. They were just on the edge of wilting, but still looked gorgeous. Toby noticed them right away.

"Nice flowers," he said.

This time Callie did blush. "I think so, too."

Toby pulled out his deck and started to shuffle. The worn cards riffled through his hands over and over again, like a nervous tic. Callie pulled leftovers out of the fridge, using both the stove and the microwave to heat everything up.

"It's not a cooking night," I explained.

"I see," said Toby The cards parted and melded, parted and melded. "We used to call this a smorgasbord meal when I was growing up. Smells delicious."

Callie came over and sat down, bringing us a plate of cheese, crackers and summer sausage.