His Eyes (7 page)

“hello. Amy Turner, correct?”

Or not.

I choked, “Hi,” and numbly shook his hand.

He was tall, with thick black hair and endless brown eyes. All of his features were dark and very Mediterranean, very nice. Not that I noticed. He smiled an immaculately white smile, saying, “Joseph Eccles. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

Joseph Eccles, Joseph Eccles—why did that name sound familiar? Oh, yeah. “Congrats on being Valedictorian. Great speech, by the way.”

Joseph bowed his head and said formally, “Thank you. And I enjoyed your...demonstration. Tristan deserved to graduate, no matter the circumstance.”

So, I was right; the Clarencites
had
refused to clap because of the bribery. I nodded.

Suddenly, he offered his hand and asked, “Would you care to dance?” I glanced uncertainly toward the bathroom door. Oh well, one dance. I smiled and took his hand. “Yeah, sure.”

He led me onto the floor just as the music switched to a slow song—not just any slow song, a sappy slow song. Honestly. Songs with clichéd hooks and tenors trying to be impressive with their vibratos make me sick. Holding my right hand, Joseph smiled and stepped toward me. I placed my other hand on his shoulder as we began to slowly turn in a circle. I startled when he spoke in my ear, “You may rest your head, if you like.”

Yes, I was quite aware of the option, but I was currently watching the men’s bathroom door, watching for Tristan. I had to continually shift my head while we moved to keep it in my sight.

The moment Tristan emerged from the bathroom, Kristy approached him. He shook his head when she spoke to him and allowed her to lead him back to the table. I imagined that he asked where I was because she pointed toward the dance floor while she talked. Joseph and I again spun away and I had to practically twist my head completely around to see. From Tristan’s body language, I knew that he knew where I was.

And, unexpectedly, the realization was like a knife wound to my gut.

This wasn’t right; I couldn’t just abandon him.

I pulled away from the Valedictorian, apologizing over my shoulder, “I’m sorry. I have to go,” as I rushed toward the table. When I reached Tristan, Kristy bristled in her seat next to him. I said breathlessly, “Hi.” He turned his head to the side questioningly. “The song isn’t over.”

“I know.”

A smile flashed across Tristan’s face and Kristy glared. She said, “You weren’t much help to him on the dance floor, were you?”

I pushed a strand of hair behind my ear and said, “You’re right, I should have—”

“Danced with me,” Tristan finished, surprising both me and Kristy, by the look on her face. He rose to his feet and my stomach squirmed. “Amy?”

Kristy jumped to her feet, pulling at the short hem of her dress, and fumbled for words. “Are...are you sure you can dance?”

Tristan kept his head focused toward me and said dismissively, “I had three years of formal training while I was in elementary school. I haven’t had to look at my feet since I was six. I think I can handle it.” I took his arm and we moved onto the dance floor, away from a gaping Kristy. Oh yes, many heads turned in our direction. I clasped my hands around his neck and his hands found the small of my back.

The music had switched to a different slow song—one by Josh Groban that always made Ahna tear up, though she would never admit it. True to his word, Tristan wasn’t close to stepping on my feet. In fact, I became aware that we were dancing almost a foot apart. This wasn’t
junior high
!

I just knew that Tristan was still thinking about how I betrayed him the rehearsal. I carefully leaned my mouth toward his ear and whispered, “I’m sorry, about yesterday.” Ever so subtly, I felt him relax. He replied, “You didn’t have to do that out there.”

“Yes, I did.”

Tristan’s hand pressed against my back and I felt myself move closer until my head was resting against his warm chest. I closed my eyes and felt its steady rising and falling. I breathed in deeply and wrapped my arms more securely around his neck. The world was suddenly simply cinnamon and sandalwood. I couldn’t remember ever feeling quite so content.

All too soon, the song ended. I nearly moaned as Tristan stepped back and caught my arm. “Maybe we should head out.”

Maybe people shouldn’t move when other people are feeling so...

Oh, whatever.

The drive through the night was peaceful, but when I turned off my car’s engine, awkward silence returned with a vengeance. I sat, feeling strangely nervous, wondering why he wasn’t getting out and wondering if I was supposed to say something and wondering all those things you wonder at the end of a date—not that this was a date! Suddenly, Tristan broke the silence. “I want you to come inside, but I have to warn you about my mother. At these kinds of things, she tends to get pretty...tipsy.” Honestly, how drunk could she be? She’d only left, maybe, an hour before. I shrugged. “Hey, my mom’s been on a picnic for most of my life.”

He frowned as if he didn’t think I’d understood him and then opened the car door. “Okay.” I slid out of my car and then paused. Wait—
why
was he inviting me in? This was part of the job, right? I couldn’t, we couldn’t...date. Ignoring my brain, I walked with him up to the door. He asked, “You ready?” and pressed the doorbell. From inside, I could hear the sound of talking and piped classical music. There was a crash, followed by laughter, and then the door was thrust open.

Mrs. Edmund stood in the doorway, her hair slightly mussed and her eyes glistening. In the foyer behind her, I could see a waiter on his knees, wiping up the shards of a broken glass. A young server pressed a flute of champagne into the hostess’ hand, while she smiled largely at us. She oozed, “Oh,
how
lovely you both look,” and I tried to return her smile. She turned her head, presumably toward the retreating server, and continued to slur, “
That’s
my son and his babysitter.” Okay, she had definitely been knocking them back.

Several of the administrators, whom I recognized from the graduation, were standing in clusters around the den and they turned to look in our direction. Feeling embarrassed for Tristan, I tried to move toward the stairs. “Everything looks wonderful, Mrs. Edmund.”

“Thanks, dear. It’s all the cater—
whoops
!” The flute fell from her fingers and smashed onto the tile. She frowned. “Oh, those things are so
slippery
.” She held up a hand and tried to whisper to me, “I get so nervous hosting.”

“Don’t worry,” I said while we began up the stairs. “Maybe just try a little coffee?” When we reached the second floor, Tristan sighed. “Wasn’t that fun?” I squeezed his arm. “Hey, it’s okay. When I was four, my mom decided we should try to set all the animals in the zoo free. I was the youngest kid ever to spend time in the Grayfield jail. Boy, was Dad pissed.”

Tristan laughed. “Sounds like you have quite a family.”

We entered his bedroom and I swung his door shut to keep out the noise. I plopped onto the edge of the bed next to him and smoothed my dress. Tristan pulled off his tie and shook his head. “What a night.” My cheeks grew warm when I remembered the dance. “Yeah.”

I was so busy remembering, I almost missed his next words. “I want to see you.”

“What?” I gasped, my heart rate skyrocketing.

“I want to know you—what you look like,” he said quietly and held out his hand.

I breathed, “Oh,” and guided his hand to my face. His fingertips rested gently against the skin of my forehead and slowly brushed the line of my hair. I couldn’t suppress the shiver that ran down my spine. I closed my eyes and felt his fingers feeling their way downwards, tracing the arches of my eyebrows.

Softly, they moved over my nose to the bones of my cheeks. I could hardly breathe, but a question nagged Softly, they moved over my nose to the bones of my cheeks. I could hardly breathe, but a question nagged at the back of my mind. I whispered, “Why did you date all of those girls?”

“Sometimes, you’re just looking for something that’s right.” Oh, it was a line. It was
so
a line. But it was a good line.

For a moment, his hand cupped my cheek. I was sinking into his touch, anticipating his next movement as he discovered...me. In the darkness behind my eyelids, I was intensely aware of every noise, the sound of his steady exhaling. Mostly, as his thumb stroked my lips, I was overwhelmed by the desire to know everything about him. If only I could see him without his sunglasses. If only... His breath was warm on my skin and his hand had settled against my neck. I wanted to look, but—

“
Ahh
!”

With my heightened senses, the sound of the doorknob twisting brought me into a panic. I jumped away from Tristan just when the door opened. Chris stood in the doorway with his arms crossed. He was dressed in his pajamas, though he appeared very much awake. He knitted his eyebrows as he looked from me, and I was probably white as a ghost, to Tristan. His voice was suspicious. “What are you guys doing in here?”

Tristan frowned. “Nothing. You should be in bed.”

“Dad always told you to keep the door open.”

“Well, Dad isn’t here now, is he?” he snapped.

The boy’s eyes widened and his mouth formed a hard line.

“Listen, I...” Tristan sighed and explained, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was closed.” Chris looked down at the carpeting. “It’s okay... Mom’s just... It’s kinda loud.”

“She can get pretty...excited for parties, you know?” Tristan shrugged. “Sometimes grown-ups play loudly.”

His brother’s face brightened. “Do
you
wanna play a game?” Tristan’s laugh was bitter. “I don’t know if I’m much competition nowadays.”

“We can play together,” I chimed in quickly. “How does that sound?” Chris nodded eagerly and ran from the room to find a game. I took a deep breath to calm myself; I was trembling all over. If he hadn’t walked in before, would we have kissed? I tried not to dwel on it. I was here
working
to get money for
college
. I wasn’t falling—no. I swallowed hard and looked over at Tristan, who seemed to be lost in his thoughts. There was no reason for my trembling. None.

Chris ran back into the room with a box in his hands. He slid onto his knees at the foot of the bed and proudly set the game on the floor. He smirked challengingly at me and proclaimed, “Battleship.”

“I’m ready if you are, kid.” I pinched Tristan’s knee as I took a seat on the floor. “And I’m counting on you to destroy his ships.”

Tristan smiled and turned toward Chris. “You heard her. Your naval days are numbered. A4.”

* * *

gate, which was closed. The night before, I’d gone straight to bed after three hours of Battleship and then I laid there forever while I tried to process everything that had happened. The ceremony, the dance, the...seeing.

I wanted to come up with something fun for Tristan and I to do—something that we would both be able to enjoy, something special. However, my list of things I knew he would enjoy and things that would be risky was one and the same: riding horses. The problem was that I’d only ridden horses twice in my life, to little success, and, well, he was blind. But I just couldn’t think of anything else.

Leaning out my car window, I pressed the call button. A minute passed and then a familiar boy’s voice crackled through the speaker. “What?”

“Chris, it’s me! Open up!”

There was a pause and then he replied, “
Sooo
, what’d ya do last night?”

“Beat a little cheater at Battleship,” I teased.

“You did not!”

“Did too!”

“You guys only won once! I won the rest!” the boy huffed.

“Only because you kept telling us we’d missed, when we’d hit your boats!” My comment was met by indignant silence.

“Chris,
come on
!”

There was a buzz and the gate swung open. By the time I pulled into the driveway, which was now empty of all the catering vehicles, he was waiting for me at the door with an evil little smile smeared across his face. I gave myself a quick pinch on the arm before exiting my car, just in case I’d really slipped into a Stephen King themed nightmare. I skipped up the stairs and tried to slip past him, but he blocked my way.

“So, before I came in, what
were
you doing in Tristan doing?” he asked coyly.

“Nothing. What
were
you doing snooping outside his room?” Chris raised his eyebrows. “Hearing you scream pretty loud.” I glowered and he casually kicked at the ground. “So, you and Trist are
friends
now?”

I shrugged and fought the urge to tweak his smirking little cheeks. “I guess.” He blocked me when I made another move to get inside.

“Wha’ch ya doing, today?”

I glared at him. “
Something
, okay?” I caught his shoulder and pushed him aside.

“You’re gonna try to get him to ride Aeris, huh?”

I stopped inside the foyer and spun around. The open door swung in the breeze, but Chris was gone.

Creepy little kid. I turned back around and jumped. Tristan was standing in front of me, at the base of the staircase. I let out a small squeak and his face lit with a mind-numbing smile. “Nice to see you, too.”

“I’m sorry. It was just your brother....” I sighed. “Never mind.” I walked forward and took his arm. “Let’s go.”

Tristan walked with me, but asked, “Where are we going?”

“Uh, for a drive,” I said evasively.

He turned his head toward me, skeptical. “Really, Amy?”

“It’s a surprise,” I said with a smile and swung the door shut behind us. I turned to see Chris sitting on the front steps. He jumped up when he saw us and, grinning at me, piped, “
I
know where you’re going!” I swatted at his head, but he ducked out of the way. I eyed him. “Come closer, kid. I dare you.” He laughed and slipped back into the house.

“What was that about?” asked Tristan as he climbed into the Camry.

“Oh, nothing.”

When I began to drive, I found that I’d forgotten to grab a cassette tape. I brushed my hair behind my ears, pondering turning on the radio, and then I realized that the silence between us was actually comfortable. A smile brushed my lips when I looked over to see Tristan’s perfect silhouette against the blue-gray sky. I found myself asking, “What are you thinking about?” He inclined his head toward me and I waited for his answer. Finally, he said, “Just surprised this car’s still running.”

“
What
?” I said in mock-anger and playfully punched his shoulder. He laughed at me. “Tristan, I’m serious!”

“Remember that music you had on when I was first in your car?” I nodded. “Yeah, Sting—The Police.”

“That was pretty awful,” he deadpanned.

“
Right
.” I rolled my eyes. “Do you even
listen
to music?”

“Of course I do.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Yeah? What’s your favorite band?”

“Coldplay.”

“What?” I cried. “Are you serious? I love them!”

Tristan laughed, “I didn’t think you liked any bands from this decade.”

“
Seriously
.” I pulled the Camry into a parking spot. “Sting is classic.” I switched off the engine. “We’re here.”

“And the surprise is...?”

I said enthusiastically, “We’re at the stables to visit Aeris!”

“Oh.” His face darkened. “What makes you think I want to ride?”

“Because you used to love it.” I walked around my car to the passenger side and opened his door.

“Listen, this isn’t for me. The last horse I was on was four feet tall and could only walk in a circle. I was three; I fell in his poop; there were tears. Since then, horses and I—not such a good thing.” He snapped, “Amy, there’s a reason I haven’t been riding Aeris,” and tapped meaningfully on the edge of his glasses.

I sighed and pulled on his arm. “Oh, come on. I’ll be your eyes.”

“That’s real comforting, after your story,” he said sarcastically and climbed out of my car.

I smiled and slid my hand into his. Tristan’s fingers tightened around mine and I felt my cheeks grow warm. I had to get a grip...on
myself
! Not him! Honestly.

We entered the sky-blue stables. They were beautiful and bright, with a high-beamed ceiling. There were two rows of stalls on both sides of the building. Helmets, saddles, bridles, and other equipment I couldn’t name hung on pegs outside of the stalls. Through the doors, I could see the brilliant faces of purebred horses. I looked to Tristan and asked, “Where’s Aeris?” He frowned as he thought. “Uh, on the left...halfway down the row. He’s black.” We walked a little further and then I saw an intense onyx eye staring at me. I stopped and marveled at the handsome animal. His coat was so deeply black that it shimmered navy in the light. His ears were cocked forward while he regarded me. Then he dismissively blew air through his nostrils and, turning toward Tristan, pinned his ears back.

Tristan let go of my hand and took a step toward the stable. “Aeris?” The horse watched him as he held out his hand. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it? I should’ve come.” Aeris watched for another moment and then rubbed his head against his owner’s hand. He patted the horse’s neck and turned to me. “Well, you still want to go?”

“Of course.”

Tristan nodded. “You’ll have to tack him—get him ready. I can’t.” I eyed the saddle that hung by the stable door. “I don’t think I can put a saddle on right.”

“Well, it’s probably better that way,” he replied. “We wouldn’t both fit in it.” Wait—what was he saying? Go without a saddle? Was my pony-riding story for nothing? I gasped,

“What do you mean?”

“We’ll ride bareback,” he said with a smirk. “We’ll just need the bridle.” Right.

I gingerly lifted the leather bridle from its peg. The long reins hung down from the bit. I moved toward Aeris, whose ears turned back. Tristan kept a firm hand against the horse’s neck while I slipped the bridle over the animal’s head. He felt me slide on the bridle and then instructed, “Okay, now tighten the straps.

The bit’s in his mouth?”

I pulled on the straps. “Yeah.”

“All right.” He held onto the reins. “Open the door.”

I opened the latch and Tristan backed up, leading Aeris from the stall. He felt with his free hand down the horse’s neck to his back. He held out the reins and I took them. I watched, my mouth falling slightly the horse’s neck to his back. He held out the reins and I took them. I watched, my mouth falling slightly open, as he climbed on Aeris’s back with little difficulty. He held out his hand and I passed back the reins.