A Season of Eden (25 page)

“I want to play your body like an instrument.” No words had ever moved me more. He’d opened his heart, given me complete access. Why then, had I used that against him?

I buried my head in my hands and fought a sob. I had no idea what I was going to do to take my stupid actions back, but I was willing to do anything.

“Eden?”

I was so caught up in thoughts of him I hadn’t heard anything. I looked up. He stood over me, his face sober.

Dark shadows were under his eyes. He wore his brown cords, a denim shirt, tie, loose at the neck and the elbow-patched jacket. A file was tucked underneath his arm.

I scrambled to my feet. Neither of us said anything.

After a minute, he dug out his keys and unlocked the door.

I had hope when he held the door open for me. I took in a deep breath, tortured by his scent when I passed by him. He closed the door and locked it. Then he looked at me, his expression wary with unreadable shades of blue sadness.

“James, I’m so sorry about last night. What I said, it was so stupid. I’ve thought about it all night. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I couldn’t even sleep.” I stepped toward him. “It was so wrong. I’m really, really sorry.”

He still held the file and he took a few steps and set it down on the piano. He kept his hands on the glossy surface, looking at the instrument that now shined and glowed like new. “I accept your apology, Eden.” I took another step toward him, hoping. Then he looked at me.

“But this doesn’t mean we can continue where we left off.”

“Why not?”

“Because.”

“But why?”

“Is that what you’re used to?”

“Well… yeah, actually.”

He shook his head. “I guess that’s what makes us different.” I didn’t know what to say or where he was going with this but I was jumbled up inside. “I’ve stayed out of relationships because they can hurt. It’s not a good thing, I know. I threw myself into school so I wouldn’t have this kind of thing happen to me because it’s painful. That worked for a long time.

“Then I started thinking maybe it would be different now. I got myself out there and… I don’t know… I seem to be drawn to complications.” He bowed his head a moment.

“That’s not your fault, that’s part of me. I came here to the high school thinking I’d put all that behind me and dive into work. But it didn’t matter.” His gaze lifted to mine again.

“Here I am again, in the same place.”

“So, I’m like everybody else?” He’d once told me he saw something different in me. It hurt to think he didn’t see that anymore.

“No, no.” His voice gentled.

I stepped closer. “If you don’t want to see me anymore, tell me why at least.” I thought of his words, of him not wanting me to drag him back to high school, which is exactly what I’d done. “I said I was sorry and I meant it. But I’ll say it again, if you want. I’ll keep saying it, James.”

He stood erect, his hands leaving the piano and falling to his sides. “Last night, I realized that the years between us really are a barrier. Like you, I thought they wouldn’t matter. That maybe we could, you know, get around them. I wanted to think that we could…”

“And we can, I know we can. We were doing fine until…” I lowered my eyes. “What I said was wrong but it shouldn’t be everything. Why should a few words be everything? I just say what I feel. It’s something I do without thinking.”

“And it hurts people.” The pain I saw in his eyes was as if I’d just said the same, thoughtless words again. Now that I knew he’d been hurt in the past, I felt guiltier.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry.” Tears sprung behind my eyes. “James, please give me another chance.”

“Eden.” He came close, as if deciding to overstep the boundary so precarious between us one last time. I didn’t give him the opportunity to think about it, I wrapped around him. The warmth of his body opened my heart, the scent of him filled my head and I felt ready to collapse, emotions sweeping over me with the strength of a violent wave. Gently he caressed my hair with one hand, while the other rubbed comfortingly on my back.

“I’m so sorry.” I sobbed. “You were only being honest.

It was wrong of me to use that the way I did. I’m not used to the honesty. I’m sorry.”

“Shhh. It’s okay.”

I didn’t dare think he meant it was
really
okay. I was afraid to look into his face, to validate his words. I stayed locked onto him. When his hands went to my shoulders and he tried to ease me back, I forced myself to let go, knowing how it would look if I held on.

He kept his hands on my shoulders. I still couldn’t look up at him.

“I’m sorry too,” he said.

I let out a sigh then dared to lift my eyes to his. For the first time since I’d hurt him, I saw a break in the tight, soberness on his face. I wondered what that meant.

“Can you forgive me?” I asked.

He paused, holding my gaze for a painfully long time.

His hands fell away from my shoulders. “Of course I can forgive. I’m just not sure I can pick up where we left off.”

My heart hollowed. “You… you really don’t think so?”

“Maybe after school. Eden, I think this… our relationship… complicates things for us both.”

After school?
I wanted to think he was joking, or that he meant at three o’clock when the school day was done. But I knew what he meant.

“I’m not sure what good it would do either of us to keep seeing each other, the whole secretive thing…”

“It would do me a lot of good.” I tried a laugh to lighten the air. “And you look relieved too, I can see it.”

His lips curved up a little. He dragged a hand through his hair. “I was sleepwalking last night.”

“You were?”

“I told you, I sleepwalk when I’m stressed.”

“I feel terrible. I’m sorry. I really am.”

He moved to the piano and aimlessly stacked an already neat stack of sheet music. “It’s no biggie.”

“When did you wake up? Where were you? I hope you weren’t in any danger.”

“No. I was in the garage.”

“The garage?”

He let out a laugh. “I guess I thought I was going somewhere.” I wanted to think his subconscious mind had been driven to see me, but I didn’t dare say that.

We heard rustling on the other side of the door. Then the door moved, as if someone was trying to open it. His eyes flashed to the large clock on the wall.

I wiped under my eyes. “Do I look okay?” I asked, afraid mascara might have tracked down my cheeks.

When he stole an extra moment to look at me, and I saw glints of admiration light his eyes, like I’d seen before.

I felt better than I had in hours. He nodded. “You look beautiful.”

I bit my lower lip and smiled. “Thanks.”

“Can you pass out the sheet music for me? Please.” He nodded toward the office as he headed to unlock the door.

“Sure.”

Brielle and I sat alone at our table in front of Fiasco’s.

Behind the safety of her black glasses, Brielle kept an eye out for Matt, even though we both knew he wouldn’t show up.

I sipped my Diet Coke. I wore sunglasses, too, but I wasn’t looking for anyone.

I had to step back, give James the time and space he needed. Amazingly enough, the distance didn’t hurt as much as I thought it would. Maybe because I knew it was only temporary. The longer I thought on something I wanted and the further away it seemed, the more I wanted it. I hoped that James felt the same way.

“I saw him, did I tell you?” Brielle said.

About four times, but I smiled. “Did you?”

She nodded. “He passed right by me in the hall without even looking at me. And he knew I was there, I know it.”

“Maybe you should make yourself scarce for a while.”

“I can’t help that we walk by each other between classes. And we have Econ together.”

“You could walk another way.”

“But he sits in front of me in class, one row over.”

“See if you can sit in front of him. Let him look at you for a while.”

“You think?” The hope in her voice made me sigh. I doubted anything would bring Matt back; he’d never been hers to begin with. She just didn’t know that.

“Two months,” I said, thinking of James, of June and graduation, “and we’re out of here.”

“I’m kind of sad.”

I kept my straw between my teeth. “Think of everything out there waiting for us.”

Her glasses couldn’t disguise the longing in her scan.

She wouldn’t want to do anything, go anywhere, as long as she kept looking for Matt.

“You coming to the final concert?” I asked.

“Yeah, planning on it. I was hoping to ask Matt if he wanted to come along, but…”

“Dad’s coming, did I tell you?”

She looked at me. “Really? Eden, that’s great.”

“Yeah.”

Brielle sat back and shook her head with a grin.

“What?” I asked.

“You always get what you want.”

“Yeah. I do.

James said we could wear any dress we wanted for the concert, as long as it was in spring colors. He instructed the boys to wear pastel shirts. Most of the guys moaned, but the night of the show, they all came looking like Easter eggs.

James warmed us up in the music room, smashing the choral groups together in a sweaty, but nevertheless fun variety of scales. He wore his soft yellow button down shirt, khaki slacks and a pastel plaid tie.
I didn’t know
they made ties in plaid.
I couldn’t believe he had a new jacket. The soft fawn shade flattered the glow of his skin, accentuating the halo of his toffee curls.

I wanted him more than ever.

“Everybody,” he quieted us after the warm ups. “This is our last concert for the year. Let’s sing it with all we’ve got.” He let out a sigh and lowered his head for a moment.

The quiet emotion silenced everyone. “It’s been a great semester.” He looked into our faces. “You guys are a good group of kids, and I want you to know this has been a dream for me, teaching you.”

“You going somewhere?” somebody asked.

“No, but a lot of my seniors are. I want everybody to know how much I appreciate your support. It’s not easy adjusting to someone new. Thanks.”

Some of the boys started to clap and soon the room rocked with applause. I glanced at Leesa. She was, as always, in the front row—beaming.

James’ full-room scan finally fell on me and his eyes held mine for a second before he continued smiling at everyone else. The moment seemed to string us together over the raucous noise and busy bodies all herding out the door, readying for the concert.

Mrs. Christian was back as our pianist. She looked like an elegant Madame in her long peach dress and single strand of pearls, her dark hair back in a conservative knot.

When I walked by her, she smiled. “Hello, Eden.”

“Mrs. Christian. I didn’t think you’d remember me.”

“How could I forget such a lovely young woman?” She patted my arm.

Concert Choir was supposed to sing first and after I’d taken my place on stage, I strained to see Dad in the audience. With lights blinding me, I couldn’t, but knowing he was there lit me from the inside.

James held his baton up and gave us that special smile he kept in reserve for performance. Then Mrs. Christian started playing the sweet, romantic melody of
My Heart
Will Go On
.

The words tugged my heart. I thought it ironic, the song, the movie, the way that Rose and Jack had fallen for each other even with the obvious differences that seemed insurmountable. Their story reminded me of James and me.

As I continued to sing, occasionally James’ gaze would light on me and hold. My heart fluttered. For that moment, no matter how brief, I was sure that his eyes were clear and free of the pain I’d brought us both. I hoped that when he saw me, he remembered his first feelings for me and not what had come between us.

After we sung, the audience gave us a standing ovation.

I saw Dad then, the spotlight skimmed his tall frame about six rows back. He beamed.

Concert Choir filed off the risers and waited in the music room with the other groups waiting to be called on stage. With a few weeks left of school, most kids felt free to drop the social boundaries that usually separated us.

That included me. I joined a group of kids playing cards, coming face-to-face with some I hadn’t said more than ‘hey’ to.