A Whisper in Time (29 page)

“It’s great news.” He kissed me lightly. “Hey, I brought my bike. Want to go out? I can explain what we’ve been talking about.”

“Indeed, I would. I’ve been practicing. Do you have other skills for me to learn?”

“Yep, and the first one is—wear safe clothes.” He laid a firm hand on my hip. “Babe, it’s hard to ride in a skirt.”

“It will test your skill as an instructor.”

“Yeah, right.” He smiled at his grandparents. “We’re going out while the light’s still good.”

The sun would be out for many hours, but I didn’t remind him, for I was eager to be alone with him too.

We rode in parallel up the driveway and onto the main road as he coached me in the use of gears. I tried to understand, but it wasn’t easy.

When I’d been by myself, I’d ridden only on trails that were generally flat. But Mark clearly had no paths that he avoided, and I wouldn’t ask him to change on my behalf, even though biking uphill had a most unappealing effect on my balance. It required a great deal of effort to keep the bike smooth and steady.

There was no discernible effect on Mark. “Did you get what we are talking about? Gran has someone who can help us figure out your birth certificate.”

I nodded, not wishing to waste a precious breath on words.

“It’s not a sure thing, but this lady sounds like she could be helpful.”

I nodded.

“Do you have any questions?”

There would be time for questions later. Shaking my head, I concentrated on the path and the pumping of my legs. The hem of the skirt kept getting in my way.

He laughed. “It’s easier to ride a bike wearing pants.”

“It’s easier to stay in my good graces if you do not comment on my clothes.”

“Point taken.”

We finally turned onto a flat dirt trail that paralleled the lake and rode as far as a small park at the water’s edge. After securing our bikes, we found a picnic table and sat on its top. I watched the boats speed by. He kissed my cheek and then my jaw.

“Damn.” He lifted his head. “I can’t wait to get you home.”

As lovely and peaceful as the lake house was, I had to agree. “Will you come for me tomorrow after school?”

He drew away from me. “I’m not sure about the arrangements yet. Tomorrow is the homecoming game.”

I turned to gaze at him and found him looking out at the water, his face in profile. “Might I infer that you’ll escort the movie star?”

He maintained a vigilant watch on the boaters of Jordan Lake. “You told me it was okay to say yes.”

“I did indeed. I’m curious why I’m only learning of your decision now.”

“You gave me the go-ahead.”

“I didn’t give you
the go-ahead
. I merely freed you to make the best choice.”

“Sounds like we disagree on what that is.” He exhaled loudly. “I’d like you to come, Susanna.”

“Why should I return on Friday now? You’ll be too busy to notice me.” We had been apart for five days. During the absence, I’d had no knowledge of what might happen next. Now that the separation was ending, we would remain apart for another day so that he could help a girl in a ball gown walk on a football field.

I felt a strong desire to be away from him. After clipping the helmet in place, I mounted the bike and rode away in the direction of the lake house. It would’ve been a most effective way to demonstrate the strength of my feelings had I not made a wrong turn—requiring a rescue from Mark.

When we arrived at the lake house, Charlie was seated on the deck, pretending to read a book. I rolled my bike toward the shed while Mark put his in the truck. He called after me, “I could take your bike back with me tonight.”

“I’ll keep it here until Saturday.”

Charlie lowered his book, his gaze locking on his grandson. “Your mother says the exile ends tomorrow. Why would Susanna be here until Saturday?”

Mark’s jaw tightened. “I’m busy Friday evening.”

“Doing what?”

“I’m on the homecoming court.”

“You’re going on a date? With a girl who isn’t Susanna?”

“It’s not a date.”

“Sounds like one to me.”

“Then you’d be wrong.” Mark wrenched open the door to his truck. “Stay out of this, Granddad. I don’t cheat on Susanna. Not now. Not ever. She knows it, and so do you.”

He slid onto the driver’s seat and watched with narrowed eyes as I approached.

I stopped a foot or more away and lowered my voice. “You are leaving now?”

“I don’t feel particularly welcome.”

Disappointment had me in its grip, yet I couldn’t deny that his event on Friday evening made matters between us awkward. “I shall see you Saturday, then.”

“Dammit, Susanna. Do you plan stuff like this with Granddad?”

That stung. “You made a decision unlikely to be popular with your grandparents. I can hardly be to blame.”

“I’ve asked you to come to the game with me. I want you to be involved.” He snapped on his seatbelt. “This is my senior year. Don’t try to make me feel guilty because I want to enjoy it.” The door closed with a bang.

I watched as the truck reversed and roared away. Once it had disappeared from view, I sought refuge among the trees, away from my friends and their questions.

C
HAPTER
F
ORTY

F
RINGE
OF
THE
C
ROWD

Thursday night ended up being the worst evening since Susanna had left on Sunday. Why? Because we
could
have been together—and we weren’t. Should’ve known the frickin’ homecoming game would become a problem.

I was grumpy and pissed and ready to kick something. I’d looked forward to being with her. I’d wanted to stay longer. But with the odds at three against one, I knew better than to hang around.

There would be nothing happening at school tomorrow besides homecoming. No assignments due or exams, which meant no homework, so I actually watched TV. It wasn’t too bad, but not a replacement for Susanna.

I showed up Friday morning in a sports jacket and khakis, the unofficial uniform of escorts. The princesses all wore eye-popping dresses. Most looked like they belonged at cocktail parties rather than at school, except Gabrielle. She looked like she was heading to an audience with the Queen. Her white dress covered her completely from shoulder to knee with sleeves that were gauzy and slit down the middle, allowing us a peek-a-boo look at her tanned arms. It should’ve been prudish but it wasn’t. Not at all. It fit perfectly and made guys wonder what it was hiding.

The entire court had a meeting after school, and then I had yet another meeting after that with Gabrielle, Garrett, and her PR person. The rules were surprisingly easy.

Surreal, if I thought about it, but I could do this.

The only time I put up a fight was when the PR person held out the tuxedo she’d picked for me.

“No, thank you,” I said.

“You have to.” She gave it a shake. “Come on, Marcus. It’s perfectly designed to set off Gabrielle’s dress.”

“I have my own tux, and the name is Mark. M-A-R-K.”

“But this is an Armani—” the woman sputtered.

“Leave him alone, Olivia.” She smiled at me. “We’ll pick you up around five.”

I shook my head—and smiled back. “I’ll meet you there.”

Olivia’s hand-painted eyebrows arched high over her unnaturally green eyes. She checked Gabrielle’s reaction, which was still a big smile. With a shrug, Olivia said, “Then you’ll need this.” She handed over a VIP parking pass.

Finally, something I was willing to take.

After my second shower of the day, I shaved and then worked hard on my hair, since it might make the news.

When I walked into my bedroom, my laptop was pinging. A quick check showed Marissa was checking in.

“Hey,” I said as I adjusted the webcam for a clearer shot of my face. “Can you see my hair?”

“Yeah. You need some product.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.” She laughed. “Are you psyched?”

“Not yet.”

“Liar.”

My turn to laugh. “Okay, I’m looking forward to it. A little.”

“Granddad is pissed at you because he thinks this is disloyal to Susanna.”

“Nice reminder. Like I didn’t know that already.” I frowned at the camera. “What do you think?”

“I think Susanna needs to learn how to say
no
when she means
no
.”

Score. I had someone on my side, which helped a lot. “So why does she do shit like that?”

“All girls do shit like that.”

“Okay. Why?”

“We want you to love us enough to read our minds. It’s very irritating when you don’t.”

I laughed. “So there’s no way I can win.”

“Not really. The best you can do is manage the fallout.”

“Thanks, Marissa. Gotta go.”

“Have fun tonight. Later.”

I put on every part of the tux except the jacket and the tie, which I left loose about my shirt collar.

“Mom?” I ran down the stairs to find her sitting at the kitchen table, sipping wine and reading something on her phone. She looked up.

“You look nice.” She lifted her phone and snapped a quick photo. “Mark, your hair could use some help.”

“Marissa said to use product.”

“That’s not enough.” When Mom stood, I saw that she was all decked out for the game—ruffly top, longish skirt, riding boots.

“Looking good.”

She wrinkled her nose as she pulled a pair of scissors out of a kitchen drawer. “Sit,” she said, and pointed to a chair. In seconds, she swathed me in a huge tablecloth and got to work.

Snip. Smooth. Frown. Repeat.

“Better now. Want me to handle your tie?”

“Sure.” I stood patiently while she worked.

When she was done, I slipped on my jacket. She tugged and smoothed. “Perfect.”

My dad strolled in from the garage. “Impressive,” he said and held out his hand.

We shook. “Thanks, Dad. Are you going to ride with me?”

“No, we don’t want to get there so early. We’ll see you at the game.” He took a swig from my mother’s glass of wine. “Is Gabrielle picking you up?”

“I told her I’d meet her there.”

“Makes it feel less like a date?”

“Yeah.” We exchanged a look. He totally got this. My family had my back. It felt good.

* * *

Alexis took her role as the head of the homecoming court seriously. Carlton helped her out of a rented Rolls. She wore a white gown, obligatory for the Queen. It wrapped around her like a mermaid suit, so tight it made me wonder how she was going to walk.

“Hi Mark,” she said. Her lips trembled. She was nervous.

I gave her a reassuring nod. “You look great, Alexis.”

“Thanks.”

I switched my gaze to Carlton. He stared back for a long, tense moment. A year ago, this night would’ve been impossible. Carlton May and Mark Lewis on the homecoming court? No way.

Of course, it would’ve also been impossible for Carlton May and Mark Lewis to lose a lifelong friendship over a girl. I hated that it had worked out this way, but there was no turning back.

For tonight, though, we could call a temporary truce. “Good luck,” I said and held out my hand.

His eyes widened briefly. “You too.”

We shook, and then they were gone, the two of them strolling to where the rest of the court waited.

I waited on the side, taking in the craziness. I’d never seen so many people jamming the parking lot, many with sophisticated cameras. This whole story was bound to generate interest.
Movie star takes time off from her acting career to attend school, ends up on homecoming court
.

Of course people would be curious, and I was Gabrielle’s escort.

A limo pulled up in the VIP parking area. Gabrielle’s bodyguard got out and opened her door. I stepped forward and offered her my arm.

She smiled as she took it and slid gracefully from the limo, her train slithering out behind her. Cameras flashed from all directions.

Gabrielle looked like she’d been poured into her purple gown. It was high-necked, long-sleeved, and backless down to…damn. In the front, the hem stopped at her ankles, showing off silver stilettos that would have the guys at our school aching forever.

“Hey, you look great.”

She smiled at me, her loose curls swishing across the top of that bare back. “Thanks.”

The clicking of the cameras was shockingly loud.

We joined the others in a special tent that had been brought in to give Gabrielle some privacy. When we entered, the rest of the homecoming court grew silent. Olivia hustled over with an entourage, introduced us to a reporter, and then arranged some staged candids.

The other princesses watched Gabrielle with undisguised envy. They looked like a bunch of overdressed debutantes who’d finally realized
why bother?

While the Olivia-appointed photographer organized the princesses for some group shots, Gabrielle handed me her shiny purse. “Watch this, please,” she said before joining the others.

Okay, not too happy about holding a purse. I half-sat on a table and set the thing down beside me.

The princesses were on their third grouping when her phone buzzed. And buzzed. Insistently. Until it bounced its way out of the jewel-studded purse. I peeked at the caller ID and figured I’d better answer this call. “Hey, Korry.”

There was a pause. “Who is this?”

“Mark Lewis.”

He laughed. “The escort?”

“Yeah.”

“Take good care of her.”

“I will.”

“So, put Gabi on.”

I looked across the tent. A new lineup had formed, with camera flashes going like fireworks. “She’s kind of busy at the moment.”

“She’ll talk to me.”

I didn’t doubt it. Holding the phone against my chest, I shouted, “Gabrielle, you have a call.”

Everyone turned to stare at me, except the photographer. He was snapping shots like crazy. Actual candids.

Olivia said, “She’s tied up.”

Gabrielle asked, “Who is it?”

Oh, yeah, this was going to be a moment. “Korry Sim.”