Always and Forever (5 page)

Melissa needed no further urging. She longed to stretch out on a chaise lounge and drift lazily in a netherworld of near sleep while the sun browned her body.

The pool area wasn’t crowded. Red striped umbrellas dipped over redwood tables on the deck. Melissa blinked against the reflection of bright sun on the calm water. “That’s him,” Jory whispered, pointing to a bronzed lifeguard perched in a special chair on the far side of the pool. “You’ll excuse me while I go check out his availability?”

Melissa nodded, depositing her towel on a lounge and lying down on her stomach. “Don’t let me cramp your style.”

Jory paused and remarked wistfully, “I wish it were Michael.”

“Maybe someday …” Melissa said consolingly and closed her eyes. The sun soaked through her. She barely heard the sounds of the splashing and laughing surrounding her. She might have gone to sleep, but a voice said, “Hello, Melissa.”

She sat up, startled, and found herself face to face with Brad Kessing.

“Hi,” she said, as a surge of adrenaline chased away her sun-induced stupor.

“It’s good to see you. Jory mentioned that you two might come out here today.”

Jory. No wonder she’d insisted on coming to the country club
. “You’re not swimming?” she asked. Brad wore yellow jams and a tank top that showed off his tanned and powerful upper body. Mirrored sunglasses dangled from a cord around his neck.

“Just finished,” he said. “I was thinking about playing racquetball, but I need a partner.”

His look was an invitation. “I’d like to, but I’m a little low on energy,” she told him, knowing she had neither the stamina nor the presence of mind to get through a game with him.

His blue eyes traveled the length of her, and she felt a tingling sensation that she associated with romance novels. “Want to go through the gardens in the back? There are ponds with goldfish a foot long.”

She’d walked the gardens often with Jory, but to go there now with Brad.… She glanced at Jory, who was engrossed in conversation with two guys at the lifeguard station. She’d never miss her. “Sure. You lead the way.”

As she slipped on her cover-up and sandals, Brad flipped her heavy braid, the tips of his fingers brushing
lightly over her shoulder. She followed him down a flagstone path, and in minutes the pool area had disappeared. Silence settled around them in thickets of green as they stepped into a tropical forest. Ficus trees, crotons, and exotic shrubs were intertwined with purple and fuchsia bougainvillea flowers. Brad broke the intimate silence by asking, “How do you think you did on the Brain Bowl testing?”

“I think I did all right. And you?”

His grin was lopsided, “I’m a Kessing. Kessings always do all right. It’s in the family rule book.”

His comment was puzzling, but she didn’t question it. “And I thought you were only interested in soccer.”

They stopped on a wooden bridge arched over a winding stream where the water was green and still. “Jocks aren’t supposed to be smart. Is that what you mean?” His question made her feel foolish.

“I didn’t mean it the way it came out. I guess I was just surprised when I walked into the room and saw you in the front row.” Her palms grew sweaty. Nothing she was saying was coming out right.

“We jocks have reputations to maintain. I try not to let on that I can think as well as I can kick a ball.” There was a hint of amusement in his words. “But I do intend to make the Brain Bowl team.”

She met his intense blue-eyed gaze steadily. “So do I.”

“Deep down I have a secret desire. I want to be a Rhodes Scholar. Do you know what that is?”

He toyed with her braid, and her thoughts scattered. “It has something to do with athletics and academic achievements, doesn’t it?” she said.

“Actually, it’s a scholarship to Oxford University in England. My grandfather was a Rhodes Scholar,
and I guess I’ve always wanted to follow in his footsteps.”

Brad intrigued her. She’d never really known a guy who was interested in anything so profound and serious. Most boys she’d dated were only concerned with the latest football scores—or their own scores when it came to girls. But Brad was someone who really thought about his future. “I hope you get it,” Melissa said with sincerity.

His smile was intimate as he said, “I always get what I go after.” Melissa’s heart hammered and her mouth went dry.

Brad rested his elbows on the rough wood of the bridge and leaned over, pointing toward the water. “Look, there’s a fish.” She caught a flash of gold as a fat, lazy fish ventured from beneath an overhanging rock. “Actually, they’re carp, not goldfish.”

Brad touched the nape of her neck and stroked her soft skin with his thumb. Melissa’s knees turned weak and she leaned against the bridge railing for support. “Maybe that will be a Brain Bowl question,” she said lamely, then told herself that it was a stupid thing to say.

“If we’re on the team together, we’ll be seeing a lot of each other.”

His observation made blood pound in her temples. She didn’t want this to be happening to her. “The team! I’m aiming for the first cut right now. I can’t think beyond that.”

“You’ll make the first cut.”

“How do you know?”

His smile was slow, confident. “Because
I’m
going to make the first cut. And I want you to come with me.”

His sense of confidence momentarily overwhelmed
her. He straightened and turned her to face him. “Melissa.” His voice went low and quiet. “Can I unbraid your hair?”

Flustered by his request and change of subject she stammered. “Y-Yes. If you want.”

He reached over her shoulder and pulled the tightly wound braid forward, unclasping the gold clip. She couldn’t tear her eyes from his face, couldn’t stop the emotions and sensations pouring through her body. Brad unwound the plait slowly, dragging his fingers through the thick, dark masses of her hair until the strands fell loose and free. He sifted it through his fingers like sand, gathering it into handfuls. A breeze spun wispy strands across her face. “God, you have beautiful hair.” His whisper sounded worshipful.

Time stood still for her, in a rain forest of green and yellow, in eyes the color of the sky. Her breath pressed against her lungs, unable to escape. She managed to mumble, “Thank you.”

Brad lifted a fistful of the dark tresses and let it fall, bit by bit, in a feathery cascade. When the last strands settled, he rested his hands on her shoulders. The thin, gauzy cloth of her shirt seemed nonexistent. He cleared his throat. “I’d like to get to know you better, Melissa. Maybe after the team’s chosen … ”

“Yes. Maybe.”

He looked at the water below and a gathering of orange-and-white flecked fish. As he rambled on about the carp, she noticed that his arm never left her shoulder. And his fingers, long and gentle, never stopped stroking the dark veil of her satin, waist-length hair.

“You’re awfully quiet. Didn’t you have a good time?” Jory’s words intruded into Melissa’s brooding
silence as they drove through the familiar streets of Melissa’s neighborhood in the dusk.

“Of course I had a good time. The whirlpool and sauna were great.”

Jory switched on her headlights. “But you’re not telling me what happened in that hour you disappeared into the gardens with Brad.”

If Melissa hadn’t been so tired, she might have been irritated with Jory’s probing. “Nothing happened. We went for a walk. We looked at the fish.”

“You rebraided your hair when you came back to the pool area.”

Melissa was relieved that Jory couldn’t see the flush on her face because of the darkness. “It came undone.”

Jory blew through her teeth skeptically, drove the car into Melissa’s driveway, and shut off the engine. “It’s okay to like Brad, you know,” she said. “There’s nothing wrong with balancing a social life with your studies.”

“It seems that I don’t have much choice,” she admitted grudgingly. “He’s very hard
not
to like.”

Jory’s smile was so obvious, Melissa could feel it in the dark interior of the car. “It’s nice to know you’re still human and that blue eyes and blond hair can still affect you.”

“I’d have to be a corpse not to be affected.”

Jory chuckled. “Well, under the circumstances, I’d say you were in for a banner year, Melissa Austin.”

“If I make Brain Bowl,” she cautioned. “I told you, studies come first with me this year.”

“Okay. If you make Brain Bowl, and
if
you date Brad, will you confess that this could possibly be the best school year of your life?”

Melissa released an exasperated sigh. “I confess, Your Honor.”

“Good,” Jory said, opening the car door and jumping out. “Now let’s go inside, where I can catch a glimpse of your gorgeous brother and make a fool of myself over him.”

“You’re impossible,” Melissa laughed, climbing out of the car and heading to the door.

“True. But if I weren’t, what would you do for comic relief?”

Melissa hugged her friend impetuously. “Study!” She entered the warm glow of her kitchen, where her mother had left a plate of homemade chocolate chip cookies on the table with a note saying, “Ran to the store. Be back in an hour.”

Jory eyed the plate longingly, and Melissa read her thoughts just as surely as if she’d spoken them aloud. There would be no one back at her house. Her parents were still on their cruise. Nothing but a dark, lonely house that people passed through but rarely lived in. “Why don’t you help me eat these?”

“You wouldn’t mind? I mean, since there’s no one home at my house, I could stay for a little while … ”

Melissa pulled out a chair and shoved her friend into it. “Sit and eat. What kind of a friend would leave me alone to devour an entire plate of cookies just when I’m being noticed by the best-looking guy at Lincoln High? Do you want me to have to waddle up to the Brain Bowl podium?”

Jory reached for a cookie and munched it thoughtfully. “You
are
going to make the team, Melissa. I meant it when I said this is your year. Nothing can stand in your way.”

Partly because of Jory’s and Brad’s enthusiasm, Melissa floated through the next several school days,
and when Mr. Marshall told her of her selection to the initial group of twenty-five, she wasn’t surprised. Three afternoons of playing the game convinced her that she was a good contestant. Brad was sensational, and by the following Friday, when Mr. Marshall and Mrs. Watson chose the ten finalists, Melissa’s confidence buoyed her through morning until the list was posted on Mr. Marshall’s bulletin board at noon. Melissa’s name topped the list; Brad’s was second. She barely read the others.

“I told you so,” Brad said after stopping her in the hall between classes.

The fluttery sensation that she felt whenever she glimpsed him in the corridors churned in her stomach. “I never doubted it for a moment,” she said.

His laugh was quick.
It certainly is going to be a banner year
, she reminded herself when he touched the heavy length of her hair with a casual, offhanded purpose. “I’ll see you later.”

Melissa was still floating on a cloud of happiness when, during seventh-period study hall, she was summoned to the dean of women’s office. Curiosity dogged her down the hall to Mrs. Crane’s cubicle.

The dean of women was friendly, blond, and stylishly dressed. “Have a seat, Melissa.” She motioned to the chair beside her neat and orderly desk. “Congratulations on your selection to the Brain Bowl team. It’s certainly the best one Lincoln’s had to date.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Crane.” A slight case of jitters set in while the dean studied her for a few thoughtful moments, sweeping her with questioning, intelligent eyes.

“Have I done something wrong, Mrs. Crane?”

“Not at all.”

Melissa began to grow wary, even apprehensive,
as the dean focused her attention on Melissa’s long, graceful legs. Self-consciously, Melissa tucked one ankle behind the other and wished she’d worn jeans instead of a skirt. “I give up. What’s wrong?”

“That’s what I want you to tell me, Melissa.”

Confusion blanketed Melissa’s mind. “I don’t understand. What do you want me to say?”

Mrs. Crane reached over and patted Melissa’s hand as one might stroke a frightened child. “My dear, there are laws protecting children from parental abuse.”

Melissa was dumbfounded. “E-Excuse me … ?”

The dean offered an indulgent, all-knowing half-smile. “The bruises on your legs have been reported, Melissa. You can tell me the truth. Is anyone hurting you at home?”