I don't like this," he complained. He'd been complaining since I'd scooted off the chaise ten minutes earlier, leaving him on it.
"Just a little longer.I know it's not your sofa, but it's not that bad."
He grimaced. "It smells like wet dog. But what I meant was that I don't think I like posing. How do I know you're not going to give me a beer gut or a third eye?"
"I've always thought a third eye would be pretty useful." I pictured the Indian miniature art Cat Vernon had introduced me to and imagined Alex blue, with multiple arms. It was, probably, just what he expected. "And in what universe would there be an even remotely compelling reason for me to give you any sort of gut whatsoever? You're gonna have to trust me, Sushi Boy.
I'm changing..." I said.
"Don't do that," Alex said into my hair. Then he scooped me up and over so I was below him, his knees bracketing mine, his arms curving around my head. "Don't change."
Truth: When he kissed me again, I couldn't have cared less about being a good person.I felt amazing.
Jareed tended to rush in and out of the dining room; he had Willing worlds to conquer every day. But he made sure to stop in the doorway on his way out and give Sadie a huge, flourishing farewell bow.It stopped traffic.
Melissa JensenThis is not exactly what I had in mind when I agreed to miss lunch," Alex said grumpily forty minutes later. He shifted uncomfortably and tried to see what I was doing.
I stared him back into submission. "Wait."
The art room is usually empty Thursday afternoons except for me. Ms. Evers leaves early to teach her UArts class and looks up.Of course, I am one of the few entrusted with the Secret Location of the Key.
A few feet away from where I sat perched on a stool,Alex was posed on the anchient chaise we use for figure drawing. It's a relic, probably from the Palladinetti years: chipped mahogany and dusty velvet, what little remaining stuffing pokes out from a century of holes. I was probably luxurious once. Now it's like sitting on a slightly smelly board. But I'd wanted to sketch Alex as I so often saw him, reclining with his head propped on one hand,listening or talking or coaxing me to put down the glass, already,Ella,and come here.
In spite of the cold I took a seat at one of the sidewalk tables. It felt like a slab of ice under my butt. I shivered,but stuck it out.
"Hey, Loco Girl!"
Shout out "Hey, Gorgeous!" or "Einstein," and I don't budge. But this one had me at "Loco." Go figure. I looked across the sidewalk to see Daniel's face, so much like Frankie's, framed in the window of his Jeep. I felt a sad little tug in my chest.
"You are aware it's only forty degrees out there,aren't you?" he asked. I shrugged. "Meeting someone?"
"No," I admitted.
"Then get in.Your hands look like wax. It's seriously creepy."
I looked down at the hand gripping the blindingly cheerful cup.He was right.
He also got out to open the passenger's-side door for me. I was a little charmed, until he pointed at my partially eaten cheesesteak in its wilted paper wrapper. "You are not bringing that thing into my car. It's an abomination."
I eyed the cigarette he'd dropped in the gutter. He did his teeth-baring thing. I tossed my cold meal in the trash, knowing I wouldn't have eaten it anyway. The inside of the Jeep wasn't all that much warmer than out. "Here." Daniel took off his black leather jacket and held it out for me. It was heavy and smelled a little bit like a burned cookie. It went on over my own coat; the sleeves went past my fingertips. "You look like frozen-"
"Don't say it," I muttered as I settled into the battered seat.
"You have no idea what I was going to say," he shot back, grinning. "Something rotten in the state of Marino?"
"And you ask that because...?"
"Really? It's four in the afternoon, and instead of being with Sadie and my brother or at home, eating something colorful, you're sitting outside by yourself here.Not exactly rocket science.
I don't have a girlfriend."
"Right."
Daniel looked at me just long enough to make me squirm, and only just avoid flattening a granny who was crossing against the light her shopping cart. "Excuse me?"
I sighed. "Let me guess. She's as tall as you are and looks like she spends her leisure time in a lace bra and angel wings."
"Jesus,Ella, what was in that cup?"
"What? Guys like you always have girlfriends like that."
He reached out and jabbed a button on the dash. It took two tries,but the music stopped. "Sounds good to me, but there's no girlfriend-"
I got it, a little late. Apparently, I'm slow that way. "Ah.I get it now." I slapped my forehead. It was unsatisfactorily silent; his glove was that thick. "Slow.Okay."
"You look like an ordinary girl, but in truth-"
I gave him the Hand.It looked silly in his glove. "Truth: I am a completely ordinary girl. There are tons of us around.Always have been.
I was halfway out the door before Daniel had even stopped. I slipped off his coat and gloves. "Thanks," I told him.
"Hey." Quick as a snake, he leaned across the passenger seat and thrust out his hand, stopping the door from closing. "Hey! I have something to say here."
"Absolutely.Shoot."
"You're welcome," he said.
"That's the something?"
"Nope.That's a something. This is the something..." He pinned me with those almost-black eyes, and I had absolutely no doubt as to why his invisible girl climbed happily into the back of the Jeep with him. "You listening?"
"Sure." A little hypnotized, maybe, but functioning.
"There is not a single ordinary thing about you,Loco Girl." He pulled the door closed with a snap and was gone.
He's right,you know," Edward was saying almost before I'd made it into my room. I had crept through the house unnecessarily. No one was home.
"Your assertions have lost a bit of their value these days, Mr. Willing."
"You know," he repeated.
I tossed my coat onto the bed. The stark black and white of my quilt was broken by a purple stain now, the result of a peaceful interlude with grape juice turning into a gentle wrestling match.The stain was the size of my palm and shaked like, I thought, an alligator. Alex insisted it was a map of Italy. Later, we'd dripped the rest of the juice onto the thick pages of my drawing pad, finding pictures in the splotches like the Rorschach inkblots used in psychology.
"Well," he'd said in response to my pagoda, antheater, and Viking, "verdict's in.You're nuts."
The pictures were tacked to my wall, unaccustomed spots of color. I'd penciled in our choices. Viking (E), pineapple (A). Lantern (E), cheese (A). Crown (E), birthday cake (A) were over my desk, over Edward.
I turned on my computer. It binged cheerfully at me. I had mail.
From: abainbr@thewillingschool.org
To: fmarino@thewillingschool.org
Date: December 15, 3:50 p.m.
Subect: Should you choose to accept...
Tuesday. I'll pick you up at 10:00 a.m. Ask no questions. Tell no one.
-Alex
"Ah, subterfuge" came from over the desk.
"Shut up, Edward," I said.
There was no doorman outside Harrison Kinuye's house, just a Phillite senior leaning into a huge stone urn. He extricated himself as I reached the door. "Hey," he greeted me, sending out plumes of condensed breath and beer fumes. "Thought I was gonna heave."
"Okay," I said. Apparently,that satisfied them, because he opened the front door for me with a clumsy flourish.
I was in.That simple. I'd spent the entire walk over worried that I wasn't going to get past the door,I'd watched Harrison's YouTube video (cleverly posted under the complicted name "Harrison Kinuye's Party") three times to be sure of the password. The whole video consisted of Harrison holding a piece of paper with the address, date, and time of the party. Of course,it read backward, but that wasn't much of a challenge, and I suspected it wasn't deliberate on his part. At the eighteen-second mark, he opened his mouth and let out a massive, echoing belch.Fade to black. I'd been afraid that was the password and that I would have to burn for admittance.
Is your nasty natural?" I heard myself saying. "Or did you get it implanted?
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