In Harmony(62)
“How are you holding up?” Angie asked as I slid into my seat. “You look tired.” Today’s t-shirt was white with black lettering: If you don’t have something nice to say…we have a lot in common.
“I’m great,” I said. “Considering the guy my dad wants me to hook up with is a complete douchebag and the guy I want to see is literally forbidden.”
Angie’s jaw dropped open. “Really? Isaac? You want to see him, see him?”
“Shh. I don’t know. Maybe. It’s so stupid because he’s leaving Harmony in a couple of months. But I can’t stop thinking about him. He doesn’t make me feel trapped.”
“Trapped by what?”
I plucked at the long sleeve of my dark green shirt. Underneath, a new army of little black X’s marched along my forearm. “Nothing in particular,” I said. “I just don’t like feeling pressured by guys. And I don’t feel that from him. At all.”
“Holy shit,” Angie said. “Do you think he’s into you? He has to be, right? Picking you up in your time of need…?”
And dancing with me.
I played every detail over and over in my mind while curled up on my floor in a blanket, waiting for sleep that wouldn’t come.
“I’m sorry I ruined your night,” I said.
“It’s—”
“I know, I know. You told me over the phone it wasn’t a big deal. But I need to tell you in person. I’m trying to get better at this whole being-a-good-friend thing.”
“You’re doing all right, Holloway.”
Her eyes dropped to my notebook where hundreds more little black X’s crawled all along the margins.
She frowned, a fingertip tapping the paper. “What’s all this about?”
“Nothing. Just doodles,” I said. “Hey, did you start your poem yet? The one Paulson assigned us last week?”
“Yes,” Angie said slowly, “I’ve been toying around with this one, tell me what you think. Roses are red, violets are blue, when you’re ready to talk, I’m here for you.” Her bright smile dimmed with sadness. “Okay?”
I nodded and whispered, “Okay.”
While eating lunch, my phone pinged an incoming text. Isaac’s name and number flashed on the display, making my heart pound and my stomach flutter.
Hey, had a question about rehearsal tonight. RU free to talk?
Smart, I thought.
The coast is clear, I typed back.
Wanted to make sure you are OK. I would’ve texted earlier.
I’m OK. Thank you.
A pause and then he started typing again.
Do you want to run lines today after school?
Was this code for something else, I wondered? It didn’t matter. I just wanted to see him.
He’s leaving. Be smart. Don’t try to crawl your way out of the darkness by falling for some guy who can’t be with you.
My fingers flew as I typed a text. Love to. Where?
The same place as last time?
I remember. 3:00?
CU then.
A text from a boy I liked, and I had to delete the entire thread.
“I need two little favors,” I told Angie after school. “I’m meeting Isaac at the amphitheater to run lines.”
“Is run lines code for sex and no one told me?”
A shiver slipped down my spine but it was a heated one, not icy.
“It’s code for running lines. Can you cover me?”
“Cover you how? Put a mannequin with long blonde hair in the passenger seat of my car and drive around town?”
“Now that you mention it…” I grinned. “Just tell anyone who asks we’re studying together.”
“Oh my God.” She pinched my cheek. “Look at that smile. You love him.”
“What? I do not.”
“Mm. And I’m not the best friend anyone could hope for.”
“Just let me be a little bit happy about this right now, okay?” I said. “He’s leaving in a few months, and at the very least, I want to make this experience with the play special.”
“Okay, Holloway,” Angie said. “I got you covered. But girl, this town is small and Isaac Pearce is big. He gets noticed and if you’re seen together…”
“I’ll be careful,” I said and kissed her cheek. “You’re the best.”
“That’s the word on the street. What’s the second favor?”
“I need a ride to the amphitheater, like right now.”
She sighed for five whole seconds and rolled her eyes. “Oh woe is me, woe is me, my kingdom for a car for my friend.” She slung her arm around my shoulder. “Come on princess, let’s hit the road.”
I got to the amphitheater first. I climbed up on the cement block and sat, waiting, remembering the feel of Isaac’s hands when he helped me down. Hoping he’d do it again today.
“Hey.” Isaac stood at the northern edge of the theater. He wore jeans that looked new, a white T-shirt and a hoodie with the hood pulled up. He had a backpack slung over his shoulder.
“Hi,” I called, and my heart did that rabbity thumping it always did in Isaac’s presence.