| |
Adrian lifted his lips from the corner of her mouth.
It was then that Ophelia realized she’d wrapped an arm around his waist and her back was against the wall. His kiss found her ear next. I’m gonna die. Die. Die.
Katelyn’s voice interrupted them. “I saw the way she looked at Adrian Grayer coming out of Honors English. She’s obsessed with him, and he’s a liar. He’s not gay.”
Adrian’s lips pressed on her earlobe at the same time.
“What are we going to do?” She whispered
“They think she’s just trying to get Martin back.”
Ophelia rested her head on him and breathed in deeply, closing her eyes. “I don’t want to go back.”
“Mm.” He nuzzled into her hair.
She opened her eyes, his ear only an inch away. She lifted her head on seeing a tiny hole. “Where’s your pirate earring from the dance?”
Adrian fingered his ear and grinned. “Did you like that?”
Ophelia’s face warmed up in a smile. “It’s so rebellious for this dinky little town.”
“You like ‘rebellious,’ because you’re not.” He dug the earring out of his jeans pocket and slipped it in. His lobe was a little red.
She decided he needed a kiss to make it feel better and seized his earlobe in her lips.
Adrian muffled a laugh in her hair.
Ophelia snuffed out her own giggle and peered around the snowman. “The way’s clear. We need to hurry before the tardy bell. I’ll go first.” She slipped out of his arms.
“Wait.”
Ophelia hurried behind the linebacker to keep out of Katelyn’s sight and slipped in behind the Goth girls waiting for the guidance counselor in his office.
The one with the blue-spiked hair made ‘tsk-tsk’ sounds at her. “Well, it’s about time.”
“What? I didn’t hear the tardy bell go off.” Ophelia knew their real names, but also that they wanted to be called by their nicknames. She couldn’t remember those, only that they’d gotten suspended several times for writing them on tests.
“You’re finally getting some num-nums from Adrian Grayer,” said the bald one. “He’s been hot for you since the first day he saw you.” She smirked to her friend. “Remember when he broke his hand and she signed his cast?”
The blue-spiked one laughed. “Yeah, he was so flustered he walked face-first into a logging truck and smack!” She slapped hands together. “He slammed right into the ground, spread-eagle on his butt. Hilarious.”
Ophelia searched her memory for that day.
The bald one chuckled. “You’re dangerous to know, girl.”
Truer words were never spoken.
To be Goth in Togo was more than a little courageous, given school politics. Any clique beyond those officially recognized by Katelyn and her friends was not well tolerated.
Anxiety coiled around Ophelia’s throat and she spotted Adrian hanging back with Trevor and Josh. How come everyone knew about him but me? Ooh, I hope Martin hasn’t figured it out.
“Don’t get your panties in a bunch. Martin’s too selfish to notice anything past his own bellybutton.” The bald one had a snake ring in her nose. “I just can’t believe this little Princess Buttercup had the guts to defy him.”
“Who knew she had an ‘inner bitch?’ Maybe there’s hope for her yet.”
Ophelia shrunk back behind them as the guidance counselor walked in.
“Don’t worry. We won’t tell. We want to see this one play out naturally.” The bald one pulled a tiny camera out of her pocket. “We can’t wait to see the look on Martin’s face.”
The blue-spiked one erupted into snickers.
After listening to the guidance counselor drone on and on for almost an hour, the first bell finally freed her. She rushed out ahead of Adrian.
As she turned a corner, she almost walked right into Mrs. Brynner. She choked down a breath and looked up, way up, into her deep hazel eyes.
Mrs. Brynner’s red lips curled. “Sweet.” Sleek like a fashion model turned Manhattan attorney, she wore a black pencil skirt and heels year-round, her platinum blond hair always perfect in the latest style.
Never had Bush Alaska seen the likes of her.
“Excuse me.” She fled at bunny rabbit speed. Geez, what am I, chocolate to her? Ripples of sickness worked their way up from her stomach, but the library door came into view.
“Mrs. Brynner is not a lesbian,” muttered Adrian, squeezing past. He ducked behind the Goth girls to fetch something from his locker.
Ophelia had wondered about that. But, if she’s not...why... She walked into the library.
The Goths huddled over their usual table in the far corner.
Mrs. Langdon, the librarian, rested her graying head on one folded arm next to a full coffee cup. She always fell asleep the first Monday in the third week of each month because she stayed up reading the new shipment of books the night before. Ophelia and the geeks had each discovered her asleep at least once and they all worked together to keep Mrs. Brynner, and spies, from finding out. Her mostly black hair lay in a long braid down her back, fastened with a beaded barrette she’d made herself. Though asleep, there was no mistaking the wisdom lining her round face.
Like her cousin Mrs. Cox, she used to babysit Ophelia and Bianca, and was Alaska Native too. In fact, she wore an identical bear-stone necklace. Everyone called her the Mama Bear because she’d fostered so many kids after her own brood grew up.
Ophelia wrote her name on the attendance sheet and sat down.
By the time she was leaning over to dig out her English textbook, a diabetic snack bar dropped on the notebook open before her. It was mint-chocolate, her favorite. She straightened in her seat as Adrian sat down next to her.
He pushed the snack bar closer to her. “Eat,” he whispered.
Every morning since school started, he’d set a diabetic snack bar in front of her at the start of study hall.
“Geez, I am such an idiot. I can’t believe I didn’t realize it was you.”
“You’re not an idiot. It’s just that you’re so busy thinking about how to convert hair dryers into photon torpedoes you don’t pay attention sometimes. Besides, I started the rumor.” Adrian leaned on his books and studied her face.
“You? Why?” No boy she knew dared come off as anything other than straight in her school.
“So I could fly under Martin’s radar, so I could be near you without anyone suspecting I was crazy about you.” He crinkled the snack bar’s wrapper end. “Eat. It has extra nutrients you haven’t been getting.”
“How’d you figure out I’m diabetic?”
“Everyone knows.” He tapped her medical alert bracelet.
“Oh.” Ophelia didn’t need to see it again. “My shackle.” Her parents had spent a lot of money buying her the prettiest one they could find, because they knew how much she hated having to wear one. To be fair, it was very pretty, a delicate gold chain with interlocking claddagh hands and hearts. The tiny hearts were deep red garnets, her birthstone. “So you were telling me how you liked to listen to me.”
Adrian pulled out his leather-bound drawing folder. “You have a cute little inflection in your voice when you say my name.” He opened the folder and drew out a clean sheet of paper.
Heat rushed all over Ophelia’s face and down her neck. “I do not.”
“Yes, you do.” Adrian closed the folder and took out a pencil. “Ay-dree-UN. The first time you said my name I thought...”
She studied his red face. “What did you think?”
“I thought I’d die if...”
“If what?”
“If I couldn’t kiss you.” Adrian glanced at the Goths, but they were doing a good job pretending not to notice. “I lived, of course, but I pretty much held my breath for four months until the party.”
“When I kissed you.” Ophelia smiled, remembering the exhilaration. “Adrian.”
He kissed her.
Right on the lips, his nose nestled against hers.
The Goth girls giggled. They hated Martin so much.
Adrian pulled back and opened his eyes. “Are you going to kiss me every time I say your name from now on?” She breathed in as slowly as she could. Please, God.
“If that’s what you want.”
“Adrian.”
He kissed her again and resumed drawing.
Ophelia had never seen him draw before.
Adrian wasn’t going to hide it from her anymore though.
“What’s it going to be?”
“Wait and see.” He drew in long, confident strokes, pausing to tap the snack bar. “Eat.”
Ophelia eyed the open door.
Anyone might walk in at any time.
She stiffened in her chair and ripped open her snack bar. As she nibbled, she let her gaze drift back over the drawing.
Feathers grew from a wing, ready to fly to freedom.
Ophelia pressed her leg to his under the table and she leaned close enough to feel his breath warm on her cheek.
“Your contact lenses aren’t working for you anymore.”
She scooted away, snack bar in her mouth.
Adrian nudged her with his elbow. “It’s okay. I know diabetes can affect your eyesight when it’s out of control.”
Ophelia moved her gaze from the drawing to his face and back.
“You’d look cute in glasses. Why don’t you wear them?” Adrian had a nose like a Greek god, his face nicely tanned with a hint of stubble over his chin. His tan-line lightened up around his neck, presumably because he spent so much time in the woods with his shirt and jacket on. She lingered over his sleeve hugging his arm muscle.
She’d never noticed what he wore before. Maybe he dresses in long-sleeve t-shirts and jeans all the time because he doesn’t want to be noticed. And it was always in shades of blue, royal and navy. Anyway, the knit fabric hugs his chest so nicely.
“Ophelia? What are you doing?” He tilted his head.
“Nothing.” She grabbed her pencil.
But, the dimple at the corner of his lips said she couldn’t get away with her mental lusting going unnoticed anymore. “I asked what you thought of the picture so far.”
“You did?” Ophelia studied it.
Two eagles had taken shape, one flying with wings outstretched.
“Wow.”
Adrian smiled and kept on drawing.
Within minutes, the second eagle took full form, locking talons with the first, their wings outstretched in flight.
“Do you know what this is?” Adrian’s lips hovered painfully close.
“Uh, two eagles flying.”
“It’s the courtship flight.” He smiled and let his focus drop briefly to her lips.
She squirmed in her seat and cleared her throat.
“They fly really high together, lock talons, and fall together, breaking apart just before hitting the ground. Then, they fly up high again and start over, over and over again until they finally settle down in their nest together.”
“What happens after that?”
He kept writing, but his grin remained. “The male warbles in the female’s ear and preens around her neck. She really likes it.”
“How do you know?” You can warble in my ear and preen around my neck anytime.
Adrian wrote something else under his name, the word ‘and.’ “I help Mr. Langdon rehabilitate animals. I check up on a pair of bald eagles we released back into the wild. I take them leftovers from the butcher shop because they have such a hard time finding food in the winter. They’re an endangered species, you know. We don’t want them starving to death.”
“I wish I could see them.” Ophelia also wondered if it was too late in the class period to search for a boring book in the reference aisle with him, and then not read it.
He waited until she returned his look. “You can.” He wrote another name with his beneath the picture.
She read it. Adrian and Ophelia.
“I visit them every day.” He slid the paper in front of her on the table. “Meet me at the Old Mine.”
“I can’t.” Ophelia shook her head.
“You know, we could’ve kept the eagles at the center for the rest of their lives, charged admission and showed them off to tourists.” Adrian sat back in his chair.
“Why didn’t you?”
“Because survival is not enough.” Adrian held her gaze steadfastly in his. “You’ll do anything to avoid conflict, but Martin will never let you go. If you want to be free, you’re going to have to fight back.”
“Martin’s so much stronger.” She did not want to talk about him.
“Miyagi say, ‘Not matter who stronger. Matter who smarter.’ You’re very smart, Ophelia, like my sister. You just haven’t figured out how to use that.”
The first bell rang while she remained in his gaze.
He brushed his fingertips across her hand. “You’re brave too.”
“Brave. Me?” She stuffed the new picture into a folder and gathered up her things. “Now, I know you’re teasing.”
Adrian put his folder into his backpack. “There are lots of smart girls in this school, but you’re the only one who isn’t afraid to be counted in with the geeks.”
Ophelia slung her backpack over her shoulder too and hurried out, squeezing behind the Goth girls, sneaking around the corners, avoiding Martin.
Surviving.
Survival is not enough.