The Talents (14 page)

He grinned. “Sometimes you've got to save the Earth, Dancia.”

We laughed and walked down the steps together, our shoulders almost touching. I turned at the bottom of the landing and barreled right into a broad, masculine chest. When my eyes hit shaggy brown hair and a pair of concerned eyes, I sucked in my breath in horror.

“Cam?”

“Dancia? What were you doing upstairs?” He put his hands on my shoulders and examined my face.

I tried to school my thoughts into a semblance of coherence. Had they told us not to go upstairs? Had I forgotten a rule? Were we in huge trouble? “I…we…” Cam's hands burned my shoulders, making it impossible to think straight.

“Dancia thought she left a book in her adviser's classroom,” Jack interjected.

Cam dropped his hands and looked over at Jack. “Landry, what are you doing here?” He turned back to me. “Don't you usually have lunch with Esther and Hennie?”

I nodded vigorously. It suddenly occurred to me that Jack and I had been walking way too close together when I'd bumped into Cam. Oh Lord, what if he thought we were…The last thing in the world I wanted was for Cam to think Jack and I were…

“Yeah,” I agreed, somewhat breathless with panic. “I realized my book was missing just as the bell rang for lunch. Jack happened to be around when I was heading upstairs.”

“Right. I happened to be around.” Jack leaned against the wall by the stairwell and exhaled a bored sigh. “Anything good for lunch today?”

A wave of gratitude passed over me.

Cam crossed his arms over his chest as he looked back and forth between us. “I didn't notice,” he said sternly. “Why don't you go take a look?”

Jack shrugged. “Fine by me.” He ambled away with his deceptively easy stride.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Cam dropped his arms, his eyes dark with concern. “I don't mean to sound like a parent here, but are you sure you know what you're doing? With Landry, I mean?”

Oh no! He did think we were together. “I just bumped into him, Cam,” I stuttered. “He's on my team. We're friends. But I'm not
doing
anything with him.”

Cam ran his fingers through his hair. “I didn't mean to imply anything. He just strikes me as a tough kid. I don't want to see you get into trouble.”

“Don't worry,” I said, emphasizing the words. “It wasn't a big deal.” I gave him the most sincere, believable, and earnest look of which I was capable. “We went into a couple of classrooms looking for my book. I got confused as to where I had left it.”

It seemed to work, because his shoulders relaxed and his voice loosened. “It's easy to get confused up there. The school is a big square, you know, so the rooms all look the same.”

“Except the practice rooms, right?”

He laughed. “Well, they don't have windows. I guess that's different.”

I hesitated, dying to ask about what Jack and I had discovered. But asking Cam would have meant admitting that Jack and I had lied about the lost book. And even though I had the sense that Cam would have been happy to blame the lie on Jack, that didn't seem right. I had already let Jack lie for me.

Besides, it seemed like such a stupid question. I'm sure there was a simple reason why the rooms were different sizes.

“Anyway,” he continued, “I'm just a little worried about you hanging out with Jack.” He put his hand on my shoulder and looked intently at me. “It isn't that he's done anything wrong, but you know how you get a sense from people? Well, I get the sense that Jack is bad news. I hate to see you going down the wrong road because of someone like him.”

I nodded, my entire body wilting at his touch. “You don't have to worry about me, Cam. I won't do anything stupid.”

He laughed, and we headed down the stairs together.

I had the feeling he was waiting for me to say something more, like promising I would stay away from Jack, but I just couldn't do it.

I thought about what Hennie had said, that Jack seemed sad. I felt that in him too, today more than ever.

How was I supposed to stay away from him when my heart said that, like me, Jack really needed a friend?

Cam went down to lunch, and I headed for the pay phone by the office so I could call Grandma. With all my confusion, I needed to hear her voice, even if it was only for a second. As I picked up the receiver, I heard voices coming from inside the office.

“So I missed my adviser appointment this morning,” Jack said. “What's the big deal?”

It was horrible of me, but when I heard Jack's voice I leaned closer to the window.

“The big deal is that we expect our students to follow the schedules we give them. This isn't a voluntary program, Mr. Landry, and you don't get to choose which appointments you attend.” It was Mr. Judan.

“Fine, whatever.”

I cringed. Jack was using his cold, I-don't-give-a-crap voice, the one I'd heard him use on Trevor and teachers who tried to get him to behave in class. I couldn't imagine Mr. Judan would appreciate that.

Mr. Judan dropped his voice, and I had to strain to hear. “Mr. Landry, I took you from whatever bridge you were living under and offered to pay your way to Delcroix. In return, you promised that you'd live by our rules. You do intend to keep up your end of the bargain, don't you?”

There was silence from Jack. I wondered what he was doing, where he was looking. I sent a silent plea to him to look down, to nod, not to pick a fight.

“If I were you,” Mr Judan continued, “I would drop that tough-guy attitude and start thinking about how you're going to make it here at Delcroix. Something needs to change, and it better be you. I would start by apologizing to me and to Mrs. Harbiner.”

That voice gave me a shiver, deep in my bones. There was a muffled sound that I hoped was Jack apologizing, and then nothing. I hurriedly dropped my change into the phone and pushed the numbers. The phone was just starting to ring when Jack came out of the office.

He stopped outside the door and let his backpack fall to the ground at his feet. I assumed he didn't see me, because he let out a deep breath, and his shoulders seemed to collapse. He looked so dejected, I took a step toward him without realizing what I was doing. The phone cord snapped me back. Jack's head shot up, and he stared at me just as Grandma answered the phone.

“Hello? Is that you, Dancia?”

“Yes, Grandma.” I gave Jack an apologetic look. With an abrupt shake, he threw back his hair and assumed his old uncaring stance. He picked up his backpack, gave me a nonchalant salute, and then strolled toward the front door.

THE NEXT
two weeks were exhausting, as I tried to juggle my desire to please Cam and my worry about Jack's increasingly despondent looks. Cam started showing up regularly at my cube at the library, and we'd go for little walks around campus before cross-country practice or after dinner. It took us forever to walk anywhere, because everyone in the school knew him and stopped to say hello. They treated him like a combination of hero, kid next door, and best friend. He was too unassuming to be intimidating, yet too perfect to be normal. I figured it was only a matter of time before he became the leader of the free world.

He introduced me to everyone and made a point of calling me his friend. I figured this was both good and bad. Good, because the entire school now knew that Cam liked me. Bad, because it sounded like he was serious about the “friend” thing. I never did tell Esther and Hennie about the eggs and the “I'm looking out for you” comment. I knew they'd make a big deal about it, and since nothing really happened with him, I didn't want to sound stupid because I'd gotten my hopes up about the whole thing.

Then there was Jack, in all my classes, with increasingly dark circles under his eyes and a wary look about him. He was acting out more, getting in trouble, and not turning in homework. I was worried about him, but I didn't know what I could do to help without losing my chance to be with Cam. I started avoiding him around the cafeteria, and trying to talk to him less during class, but then he'd drop me a note and make me laugh, or I'd need his help with a chemistry problem, and we'd end up studying together and talking all evening long.

The weekends became a kind of salvation. At least then I didn't have to worry about who I was talking to or who might be watching.

Halloween fell on a Sunday, so half the class was wearing costumes that Friday when we rode the Silver Bullet to the parking lot. Allie and Marika wore fairy costumes, which naturally required tiny bodysuits and see-through gauze skirts. Yashir and some of his friends dressed like guys in a band I didn't know. They wore leather pants and ripped shirts, but they didn't look very different from usual, so I thought the costumes were pretty lame. Esther and Hennie and I were matching witches. It was fun doing makeup together and fixing our hair, but my heart wasn't really in it. Cam and Trevor and some of their friends got football uniforms, and Anna and her friends dressed like cheerleaders.

Jack didn't dress up at all.

Neither did Catherine.

Grandma was waiting when we pulled into the parking lot. It was raining, so I sprinted from the bus to her car, gave Jack and Hennie and Esther a wave, and then dove inside.

I gave her a peck on her baby powder–scented cheek, and settled with relief into the seat. The bus ride had been painful, and it felt good to be going home. Jack had ridden up in the front, barely acknowledging me when I got on with Esther and Hennie. I could practically feel the frustration and anger spilling out of him, even though he tried to hide it behind an uncaring facade.

I forced myself to think about Cam instead of Jack, but that didn't make things easier. Cam had given me a hug before I'd left that afternoon, but then disappeared with Anna and his other friends. Most of the upperclassmen stayed at school over the weekends, and they were having a Halloween party. I had horrible visions of him hooking up with Anna at the party, as would be fitting for the quarterback and the head cheerleader.

“How was your week?” Grandma asked as she inched the old Volvo into traffic.

Driving with Grandma was always a bit of an adventure. Half the time she drove so slowly, people honked at her and shook their fists as they passed. The other half of the time she raced through stop signs and intersections like she didn't even notice they were there.

Which, of course, she didn't.

I struggled to find something unexciting yet true to say to Grandma. “It was okay. We're starting a new unit in algebra. Something about vectors. And Esther and Hennie and I are doing a project together for World Civ. We're doing a report on the Mayan ruins.”

“Did you see that boy that you like—what was his name? Christopher?”

Weird as it sounds, I think Grandma really wanted me to find a boyfriend. It was the one thing she always asked me about when we were going home for the weekend. Of course, she forgot what I had said the minute I said it, and asked me the exact same questions the next week, but it was nice. At least she cared enough to ask.

“Cam. His name is Cam. And yeah, we hang out sometimes. But we're just friends.”

Grandma and I did not talk about boys—not that there had ever been anything to discuss. Even though I wouldn't have minded talking about my problems with Cam and Jack, I figured that was one line I should never cross. If I told her how much I liked Cam, but how I liked Jack too, and didn't know how to choose between them, I'd have to tell her everything. It was the classic slippery slope.

She waited a minute for me to say something more, but I managed to keep my mouth shut. “I see. And what about the others? What about that boy that you waved good-bye to in the parking lot? What's his name?”

Trust Grandma to push all the right buttons.

“His name is Jack. We're in most of the same classes. We're friends too, but I'm not sure he's someone I should hang out with. He gets into trouble a lot.”

Grandma turned back to the road. “Trust your instincts, dear. You'll be meeting a lot of new people at Delcroix, and they will be very different from the people you've met before. Don't let yourself be taken in by appearances.”

“What does that mean?”

Grandma flicked on her blinker, even though our street was six blocks away. “You must be tired after such a long day. I made meatballs and spaghetti for dinner.” She ignored my question, which either meant she had already forgotten what she had said, or didn't feel like answering. She did that sometimes. It was infuriating.

“Fine.”

The incessant clicking of the blinker filled the silent car. Finally, Grandma turned down our street.

“Grandma, how do you know what your instincts are? I mean, what if you have two different instincts? What do you do then?”

I suppose I threw out the question because I didn't think she'd respond, and because I was annoyed that she'd brought up trusting your instincts and then dropped it. But as soon as I spoke the words, I realized I really needed to know the answer.

Cam obviously thought Jack was trouble, and part of me believed him. But another part of me wondered if Jack was just saying what I felt. When I was at school and we were busy studying and doing after-school activities and homework, and behaving like normal teenagers, Jack's suggestions about Delcroix seemed ridiculous. But in the car on the way home, I couldn't shake the feeling that maybe Jack was right. Something seemed odd about Delcroix, with all its gates, and keys, and locks, and all the students with their crazy talents. Not to mention creepy Mr. Judan, who happened to recruit both me and Jack, and the uneven sizes of the rooms on the third floor.

And if Jack was right about all that, could Cam be wrong about Jack?

It was all so confusing, it made my head hurt.

Grandma slowly pulled the car into our driveway, ran over the hose and an empty pop bottle I'd left outside the week before, and stopped inches from the garage door. She turned off the car and we sat there, neither of us moving. We sat there so long, I had almost forgotten my own question when Grandma finally spoke up.

“I suppose there's no good answer to that, Danny. I wish there was. But if you take the wrong path, something deep inside you will feel twisted. There are times when that will be the only way to know the right from the wrong.”

Her words sat heavy in my chest. “You mean I won't know until after I've done something if it was the wrong thing?”

“I didn't say that.”

I threw up my hands. Sometimes it felt like Grandma spoke in a code only she understood. “How do you know, anyway?” I asked. “Did you ever do anything wrong?”

“Of course,” she replied, a little tear running down her cheek. “We've all done things we regret. But I left the meatballs on the stove. We should get inside before they burn.”