The House of Eve (11)

“Peachy.” Nadine leaned in so that he could light her cigarette. They kept up a steady stream of conversation while Eleanor fanned her throat.

“It’s hot in here,” Eleanor said to no one in particular. She was suddenly parched and could barely move an inch without bumping into Clarence’s friend, whose breath smelled of rotten cheese. He hadn’t said much, but he wouldn’t take his eyes off her lips. This was a bad idea. She should have followed her own mind and stayed in. Eleanor looked around the room for the waitress, and that’s when she saw him.

Mr. Back from the library. William. He turned toward her before she could render her eyes away. He smiled, and she gave a small wave in response. William waved back and then he was making his way through the crowd. Eleanor dipped her head, hoping he wasn’t coming to their table, while also wanting nothing more. She tried to turn her attention to the conversation Nadine was having and busied her hands by opening and closing the clasp on Nadine’s cigarette case.

“Finally going to fancy a smoke?” Nadine mocked her, and stuttering Clarence took her humor as a cue to inch closer, warding off the boys circling.

Heat rose up Eleanor’s neck as a shadow was cast over her.

“Eleanor?”

He had abandoned his sweater for a tweed jacket and a spear-point-collar shirt. Blue sure looked mighty good on him.

Curving her face up, she grinned. “William, right?”

“What are the odds of running into you twice in one day?”

“Pretty slim I’d imagine.”

The trombone player whined out a long curdling sound as the band leader sang a finale of high notes.

“Would you like to dance?” He held his hand out to her.

She flushed and her fingers shook as she extended her arm. “I’d love to.”

Nadine pinched Eleanor’s thigh under the table in excitement as she lifted out of her seat. William did not let her hand go once she rose, and his palm was warm against hers as they moved through the swarm of people. His fingers were smooth like they hadn’t known a day of hard work, not stiff and rough like her father’s—like most of the boys Eleanor knew from back home, in fact. The quartet was loud, and Eleanor was grateful that the music drowned out the thumping of her heart.

The moment she stepped foot on the parquet dance floor, the band slowed the pace. Couples brushed against each other. William took a step toward her, draping his arm around her waist, as if it was something he had done countless times before. He smelled divine, like bark, or maybe bergamot. Whatever it was smelled masculine.

“I didn’t expect to see you here tonight. I’ve only ever seen you in the library.” William’s voice was sultry at her ear.

She gulped. He had noticed her before? “My roommate dragged me out.”

“Let me guess, you’d rather be home studying?”

“How’d you know?”

“You work in the library.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I bet you spend more time with books than people,” he teased, showing perfectly stacked teeth.

“Sometimes they are better company.”

“Well, Miss Eleanor, I’m glad you came out. Everyone needs a break.” He spun her around and then dipped her. “It’s good for the soul.”

“What makes you so wise?” She lifted her head so that the light caught her eyes.

“Experience.”

They danced with ease, quickly spinning and bopping through three songs that felt like one. By the time the band took a break, Eleanor’s brows were clammy and she was sure her curls had flopped. While they applauded the musician’s set, a string of loud voices turned everyone’s attention to the front door.

“Say what? Say who? Say what? Say who?”

Through the crowd marched a single file of women dressed in lavender shirtwaist dresses, with silver belts. People parted a path for them as the ladies swayed their way onto the dance floor, moving their arms and legs in a synchronized movement. The drummer, who had been about to leave the stage, gave a few tap, tap, taps. The girls clapped their hands to his beat, and then called out in unison.

“Say Alpha Beta Chi, that’s who.”

The ABCs threw their hands in the air to hoots and applause. A few girls blew kisses, then broke away from their formation to greet friends and admirers around the dance hall. Eleanor gritted her teeth. She’d actually managed to put her dismissal by the ABCs out of her mind when dancing with William. Now it all came flying back.

William touched her elbow. “May I get you something to drink?”

While William ordered drinks, Eleanor stole a glance at the ABCs’ pledge line. These girls were outfitted in white dresses rather than the customary lavender. They wore silver ribbons in their hair. They stood against the wall, hands clasped in front of them, their stony faces waiting for instructions. Pledges on the line were to be seen but never heard as they assured their loyalty to Alpha Beta Chi. The pledgees wouldn’t earn their silver belts and the right to wear lavender until they crossed over in six weeks’ time. Eleanor should have been one of them. She couldn’t help feeling a twinge of envy as her eyes swept their faces, confirming that Nadine had been right: all the girls were light and bright.

William returned with an Orange Crush for Eleanor. “Salut.” He raised his glass of beer. Eleanor took a sip of pop, happy for the distraction of his attention.