暮色-第40部分

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He　squeezed　some　dish　soap　onto　his　plate　and　swirled　it　around　with　the　
brush。　〃And　you're　sure　you　can't　make　it　back　in　time　for　the　dance？〃　

〃I'm　not　going　to　the　dance；　Dad。〃　I　glared。　

〃Didn't　anyone　ask　you？〃　he　asked；　trying　to　hide　his　concern　by　focusing　
on　rinsing　the　plate。　

I　sidestepped　the　minefield。　〃It's　a　girl's　choice。〃　

〃Oh。〃　He　frowned　as　he　dried　his　plate。　

I　sympathized　with　him。　It　must　be　a　hard　thing；　to　be　a　father；　living　
in　fear　that　your　daughter　would　meet　a　boy　she　liked；　but　also　having　to　
worry　if　she　didn't。　How　ghastly　it　would　be；　I　thought；　shuddering；　if　
Charlie　had　even　the　slightest　inkling　of　exactly　what　I　did　like。　

Charlie　left　then；　with　a　goodbye　wave；　and　I　went　upstairs　to　brush　my　
teeth　and　gather　my　books。　When　I　heard　the　cruiser　pull　away；　I　could　
only　wait　a　few　seconds　before　I　had　to　peek　out　of　my　window。　The　silver　
car　was　already　there；　waiting　in　Charlie's　spot　on　the　driveway。　I　
bounded　down　the　stairs　and　out　the　front　door；　wondering　how　long　this　
bizarre　routine　would　continue。　I　never　wanted　it　to　end。　

He　waited　in　the　car；　not　appearing　to　watch　as　I　shut　the　door　behind　me　
without　bothering　to　lock　the　deadbolt。　I　walked　to　the　car；　pausing　
shyly　before　opening　the　door　and　stepping　in。　He　was　smiling；　relaxed　—　
and；　as　usual；　perfect　and　beautiful　to　an　excruciating　degree。　

〃Good　morning。〃　His　voice　was　silky。　〃How　are　you　today？〃　His　eyes　roamed　
over　my　face；　as　if　his　question　was　something　more　than　simple　courtesy。　

〃Good；　thank　you。〃　I　was　always　good　—　much　more　than　good　—　when　I　was　
near　him。　

His　gaze　lingered　on　the　circles　under　my　eyes。　〃You　look　tired。〃　

〃I　couldn't　sleep；〃　I　confessed；　automatically　swinging　my　hair　around　my　
shoulder　to　provide　some　measure　of　cover。　

〃Neither　could　I；〃　he　teased　as　he　started　the　engine。　I　was　being　
used　to　the　quiet　purr。　I　was　sure　the　roar　of　my　truck　would　scare　me；　
whenever　I　got　to　drive　it　again。　

I　laughed。　〃I　guess　that's　right。　I　suppose　I　slept　just　a　little　bit　
more　than　you　did。〃　

〃I'd　wager　you　did。〃　

〃So　what　did　you　do　last　night？〃　I　asked。　

He　chuckled。　〃Not　a　chance。　It's　my　day　to　ask　questions。〃　

〃Oh；　that's　right。　What　do　you　want　to　know？〃　My　forehead　creased。　I　
couldn't　imagine　anything　about　me　that　could　be　in　any　way　interesting　
to　him。　

〃What's　your　favorite　color？〃　he　asked；　his　face　grave。　

I　rolled　my　eyes。　〃It　changes　from　day　to　day。〃　

〃What's　your　favorite　color　today？〃　He　was　still　solemn。　

〃Probably　brown。〃　I　tended　to　dress　according　to　my　mood。　

He　snorted；　dropping　his　serious　expression。　〃Brown？〃　he　asked　
skeptically。　

〃Sure。　Brown　is　warm。　I　miss　brown。　Everything　that's　supposed　to　be　
brown　—　tree　trunks；　rocks；　dirt　—　is　all　covered　up　with　squashy　green　
stuff　here；〃　I　plained。　

He　seemed　fascinated　by　my　little　rant。　He　considered　for　a　moment；　
staring　into　my　eyes。　

〃You're　right；〃　he　decided；　serious　again。　〃Brown　is　warm。〃　He　reached　
over；　swiftly；　but　somehow　still　hesitantly；　to　sweep　my　hair　back　behind　

my　shoulder。　

We　were　at　the　school　by　now。　He　turned　back　to　me　as　he　pulled　into　a　
parking　space。　

〃What　music　is　in　your　CD　player　right　now？〃　he　asked；　his　face　as　somber　
as　if　he'd　asked　for　a　murder　confession。　

I　realized　I'd　never　removed　the　CD　Phil　had　given　me。　When　I　said　the　
name　of　the　band；　he　smiled　crookedly；　a　peculiar　expression　in　his　eyes。　
He　flipped　open　a　partment　under　his　car's　CD　player；　pulled　out　one　
of　thirty　or　so　CDs　that　were　jammed　into　the　small　space；　and　handed　it　
to　me；　

〃Debussy　to　this？〃　He　raised　an　eyebrow。　

It　was　the　same　CD。　I　examined　the　familiar　cover　art；　keeping　my　eyes　
down。　

It　continued　like　that　for　the　rest　of　the　day。　While　he　walked　me　to　
English；　when　he　met　me　after　Spanish；　all　through　the　lunch　hour；　he　
questioned　me　relentlessly　about　every　insignificant　detail　of　my　
existence。　Movies　I'd　liked　and　hated；　the　few　places　I'd　been　and　the　
many　places　I　wanted　to　go；　and　books　—　endlessly　books。　

I　couldn't　remember　the　last　time　I'd　talked　so　much。　More　often　than　
not；　I　felt　selfconscious；　certain　I　must　be　boring　him。　But　the　
absolute　absorption　of　his　face；　and　his　neverending　stream　of　
questions；　pelled　me　to　continue。　Mostly　his　questions　were　easy；　only　
a　very　few　triggering　my　easy　blushes。　But　when　I　did　flush；　it　brought　
on　a　whole　new　round　of　questions。　

Such　as　the　time　he　asked　my　favorite　gemstone；　and　I　blurted　out　topaz　
before　thinking。　He'd　been　flinging　questions　at　me　with　such　speed　that　
I　felt　like　I　was　taking　one　of　those　psychiatric　tests　where　you　answer　
with　the　first　word　that　es　to　mind。　I　was　sure　he　would　have　
continued　down　whatever　mental　list　he　was　following；　except　for　the　
blush。　My　face　reddened　because；　until　very　recently；　my　favorite　
gemstone　was　gar。　It　was　impossible；　while　staring　back　into　his　topaz　
eyes；　not　to　remember　the　reason　for　the　switch。　And；　naturally；　he　
wouldn't　rest　until　I'd　admitted　why　I　was　embarrassed。　

〃Tell　me；〃　he　finally　manded　after　persuasion　failed　—　failed　only　
because　I　kept　my　eyes　safely　away　from　his　face。　

〃It's　the　color　of　your　eyes　today；〃　I　sighed；　surrendering；　staring　down　
at　my　hands　as　I　fiddled　with　a　piece　of　my　hair。　〃I　suppose　if　you　asked　
me　in　two　weeks　I'd　say　onyx。〃　I'd　given　more　information　than　necessary　
in　my　unwilling　honesty；　and　I　worried　it　would　provoke　the　strange　anger　
that　flared　whenever　I　slipped　and　revealed　too　clearly　how　obsessed　I　
was。　

But　his　pause　was　very　short。　

〃What　kinds　of　flowers　do　you　prefer？〃　he　fired　off。　

I　sighed　in　relief；　and　continued　with　the　psychoanalysis。　

Biology　was　a　plication　again。　Edward　had　continued　with　his　quizzing　
up　until　Mr。　Banner　entered　the　room；　dragging　the　audiovisual　frame　
again。　As　the　teacher　approached　the　light　switch；　I　noticed　Edward　slide　
his　chair　slightly　farther　away　from　mine。　It　didn't　help。　As　soon　as　the　
room　was　dark；　there　was　the　same　electric　spark；　the　same　restless　
craving　to　stretch　my　hand　across　the　short　space　and　touch　his　cold　
skin；　as　yesterday。　

I　leaned　forward　on　the　table；　resting　my　chin　on　my　folded　arms；　my　
hidden　fingers　gripping　the　table's　edge　as　I　fought　to　ignore　the　
irrational　longing　that　unsettled　me。　I　didn't　look　at　him；　afraid　that　
if　he　was　looking　at　me；　it　would　only　make　selfcontrol　that　much　
harder。　I　sincerely　tried　to　watch　the　movie；　but　at　the　end　of　the　hour　
I　had　no　idea　what　I'd　just　seen。　I　sighed　in　relief　again　when　Mr。　

Banner　turned　the　lights　on；　finally　glancing　at　Edward；　he　was　looking　
at　me；　his　eyes　ambivalent。　

He　rose　in　silence　and　then　stood　still；　waiting　for　me。　We　walked　toward　
the　gym　in　silence；　like　yesterday。　And；　also　like　yesterday；　he　touched　
my　face　wordlessly　—　this　time　with　the　back　of　his　cool　hand；　stroking　
once　from　my　temple　to　my　jaw　—　before　he　turned　and　walked　away。　

Gym　passed　quickly　as　I　watched　Mike's　oneman　badminton　show。　He　didn't　
speak　to　me　today；　either　in　response　to　my　vacant　expression　or　because　
he　was　still　angry　about　our　squabble　yesterday。　Somewhere；　in　a　corner　
of　my　mind；　I　felt　bad　about　that。　But　I　couldn't　concentrate　on　him。　

I　hurried　to　change　afterward；　ill　at　ease；　knowing　the　faster　I　moved；　
the　sooner　I　would　be　with　Edward。　The　pressure　made　me　more　clumsy　than　
usual；　but　eventually　I　made　it　out　the　door；　feeling　the　same　release　
when　I　saw　him　standing　there；　a　wide　smile　automatically　spreading　
across　my　face。　He　smiled　in　reaction　before　launching　into　more　
crossexamination。　

His　questions　were　different　now；　though；　not　as　easily　answered。　He　
wanted　to　know　what　I　missed　about　home；　insisting　on　descriptions　of　
anything　he　wasn't　familiar　with。　We　sat　in　front　of　Charlie's　house　for　
hours；　as　the　sky　darkened　and　rain　plummeted　around　us　in　a　sudden　
deluge。　

I　tried　to　describe　impossible　things　like　the　scent　of　creosote　—　
bitter；　slightly　resinous；　but　still　pleasant　—　the　high；　keening　sound　
of　the　cicadas　i