Connection (Le Garde) (9 page)

I opened my eyes again, and the lights above us flickered. I looked up—they stayed on, so bright I had to squint my eyes. Anna dropped her hands, and the lights dimmed and steadied.

I gazed at her, my mouth hanging open. She had bits of glass in her curly hair, and she stared back at me.

“
We did it,” I said.

Anna nodded, looking down at her hands. “We should get back.”

We walked back to the steps. I looked up at the lights that we broke. The school might have a hard time explaining that. At the top of the steps, a group of men and women, including Mr. Boyd, were huddled around the fuse box, talking quietly. They didn’t notice us.

All of the lights were back on, even the ones in the auditorium. I’d felt those, too, in the hallway, and I hadn’t even realized what I was feeling.

We joined the band quietly, looking at the other students. “Are we going to keep playing?” Anna asked.

“
I don’t know,” Jenna said. “They don’t want another outage.”

I stared at my hands, then at Anna. I got the feeling someone was looking at me, and turned to looked out in the audience. My dad stared at me, his lips pursed into a straight line.

Anna

The band waited while the staff spoke by the fuse box. I watched, wondering if I could go over there and ask what was wrong. The audience murmured to themselves. I surveyed the lights. None of these seemed to be broken, like the ones on the steps and in the hallway. I felt Aaron’s gaze on me, but I didn’t want to look at him. I wanted this concert to be over, and I wanted to work this all out in my head.

Finally, Mr. Boyd came back onto the stage and told the audience that everything was fine. The fuse box was fine; the electricity wouldn’t be going out again. Still, in the interest of everyone’s safety, they’d cut the concert short. He said this in a tight voice, but everyone applauded him and the band.

Afterwards as the band cleaned up, we heard Mr. Boyd complaining to Ms. West, the principal, to reconsider and let them finish the concert. At least mine and Aaron’s breach of Boyd Protocol wouldn’t seem so bad compared to the principal forcing him to end the night early. Good thing he didn’t know Aaron and I were responsible for the outage.

I put my clarinet in my case and turned to Aaron with a deep breath. “Good job. We sounded really good.”

“
Yeah,” Aaron said. “You were great.”

I forgot my anxiety for a moment to remember how smoothly I played. I smiled at him. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

He picked up his saxophone case, smiling back. “You would have managed.”

I chuckled. If only. We walked with the others toward the front of the auditorium. Everyone stopped to stare up at the broken lights, and I tried to look just as concerned as everyone else. I didn’t know how well it worked.

At the end of the hallway, we met up with people leaving the auditorium, and the crowd moved slowly toward the doors that would take us to the rest of the school. Everyone was chattering about the unexplained power outage. A few people complimented us and other band members as we went by.

Once we’d emerged into the large hallway outside of the auditorium entrance, I saw my mom and sisters near the bathrooms. I looked at Aaron, who was a few people away. “Nice job, Aaron. See you tomorrow.”

He met my eyes. “Bye, Anna.”

I held his eyes for a moment, replaying my mini-mental breakdown in the hallway. Where had I even been running to? I took a deep breath and walked over to my family.

“
Anna, you two were great!” Allie squealed, hugging me. “You sounded so, so, so good!”

“
Thanks,” I said with a tight smile.

“
Good job, honey,” Mom said as she patted my shoulder. She stilled when Aaron and his parents came near.

“
Anna!” Aaron’s mom called, beaming. She pulled me into a hug. She’d been like an aunt when Aaron and I were still friends. Were we friends again? That was up to me, wasn’t it? Because I knew he wanted to be friends again. She squeezed my shoulders. “Great job! You sounded so great together. I remember when you picked that clarinet just so you could play with Aaron.”

I smiled as Aaron gave me an embarrassed shrug. “Yeah, our instruments sound good together,” I said and nearly winced at how stupid that sounded.

“
No, it’s the two of you, not your instruments!” Mrs. Bender replied. She gasped and looked around at us with wide eyes. “What do you think happened with the electricity?”

“
That was so scary!” Allie said and shuddered. “Especially when they started going on and off like that, like in scary movies!”

My clarinet case nearly slipped from my sweaty palm. I tried to wipe my hands on my black slacks. It did nothing.

“
It was interesting,” Mr. Bender said, staring at Aaron.

“
Didn’t the conductor say it was the fuse box?” Ginger asked.

“
No, it’s the weirdest thing, they said the fuse box was fine,” Mrs. Bender said. “Well, I’m sure they’ll figure it out.” She smiled at me. “Aaron’s grades are really going up because of you, Anna! Thank you so much.”

I smiled. “It’s no problem.”

“
I keep hoping you’re not doing the work for him,” Mr. Bender said, his arms crossed.

I shook my head, letting out an uneasy laugh. “No, it’s all him.” I motioned to Aaron. He was the one writing it down, at least.

“
Well, you guys should come over for dinner sometime!” Mrs. Bender said, beaming at Mom. “It’s been a while since we’ve had you over, Nadia!”

It’d been never, actually. My mom always thought of excuses to get out of dinner with the Benders, but my sisters had been over. “Thank you,” Mom replied, inclining her head. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“
We should get going,” Mr. Bender said.

Mrs. Bender touched his arm. “Right. Well, good job, Anna! Have a great Spring Break! It was great seeing you, girls!”

“
See you,” Aaron said to me, and I nodded to him.

The Benders disappeared into the crowd. I thought I might feel better with Aaron gone, but I started to feel shaky. I turned to my mom and gave her a weak smile. “Ready to go?”

“
Are you all right?” She reached forward and touched my face. “You’re hot. Like you have a fever.”

“
I don’t know,” I said, gazing in the direction Aaron had gone. “I’m tired, I guess. Let’s go home.”

She gave me a concerned look, and we moved through the crowd of people to the parking lot.  The cool air felt good on my skin. I wiped sweat off my brow as we went to my mom’s old station wagon. She’d had this thing since Allie was born. When I first met Aaron, it was actually kind of new.

“
Are you sure you’re all right?” Mom asked as she started the engine.

“
Yeah,” I said. “Maybe it’s an after effect of stage fright.”

“
You didn’t look nervous at all,” Ginger said.

I shot her a grateful smile. “Thanks, but I was.
 
.
 
.although it wore off by the second song.” My smile widened a little bit as I thought of Mr. Boyd’s murderous look when we turned around after the unplanned song.

We drove past the Benders in the parking lot. There was sudden proximity and then a vacuum where Aaron used to be. I groaned, rubbing my temples. I hated when that happened.

Mom gasped and started speaking in French. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

I looked up at her. “Tell you what?”

Her mouth fell open like she was surprised at my response, and she shook her head. She looked ahead, exhaling, and didn’t say anything else.

When we got home, I went straight to my bedroom. I took a long shower and curled up in my bed. Why had I held my hand up for a high five? Oh, right, because I’d felt so elated at our successful songs. I didn’t mess up once, and the connection with Aaron had me soaring like I was a bird: his knowledge of the song, his joy, his amusement.

I pulled the covers over my head. Why hadn’t our touch ever done this before? We’d been best friends for seven years, and nothing like this had ever happened. I traced the design on my comforter and I heard my phone buzz on my nightstand. It was a text from Aaron:
We could be heroes.

I smiled despite myself. I first knew it as a line from Moulin Rouge, and Aaron couldn’t believe I’d never heard the David Bowie song. My smile faded when I thought of the line,
Though nothing will keep us together.

I stared at the text, not sure what to text back. I fantasized over responses:
Just for one day.
Or
Ewan McGregor did it better
. Or
Am I Nicole Kidman or Iman?
Even though the answer to that was obvious. I’d be the supermodel born in Somalia way before the pale Aussie.

The one I really wanted to send read:
I don’t know whether to love you or hate you.

I dozed off with the phone in my hand. The creak of my door woke me up. I pulled my covers down, and my mom walked into the room. She had her white nightdress on; she looked like she could be an angel. She sat down on the side of my bed and stroked my hair back from my face.

“
What happened tonight?” she asked.

“
What do you mean?” My heart started to pound against my ribcage, but there’s no way she could know. No way.

She sighed, pulling her hand away from me. “Anna, why didn’t you tell me?”

It was the same question she’d asked in the car, only now she was speaking in English. “Why are you speaking in English?”

She made a noise of exasperation and switched to French. “Why didn’t you tell me? Is that better?” She stood up and started pacing. “I should have known.
 
.
 
.I should have known that’s why the two of you were so close. But I didn’t think it was possible. What were the chances?”

I sat up, and the cool air of the room hit my arms, giving me goosebumps. “What are you talking about?” I asked, my voice shaking.

She started speaking in Langala, and I only picked up a word or two: he, why, no.

“
Mom!” I said. “What are you saying?”

She froze and stared at me. After a moment, she said, “You aren’t tutoring him anymore. He needs to do his own work.”

She left the room, slamming the door. I stared after her, and I swore the room started spinning. I held my head in my hands. How could she know? How could she possibly know?

I stood up and went into the hall, but when I knocked on her door, she didn’t answer. I called for her, I pounded on it, and Mom told me to go to bed. Allie came out of her room, asking what was wrong.

I fumed for a moment, clenching my fists. With a sigh, I accepted that Mom wasn’t going to answer her door and I went back to my room, slamming my door, too.

* * *

The next morning, I came downstairs with a headache. I hadn’t gotten to sleep until two in the morning. I’d almost called Aaron half a dozen times. I’d gotten on the computer and wasted time on the internet until my eyes ached. I’d spent most of the night having weird dreams.

Mom sat at the table, drinking coffee. I stood at the opposite end and put my hands on my hips. “How do you know?” I asked.

Mom put her coffee down and met my eyes. She looked tired, too, her eyes red and lined with bags. She glanced past me at Allie, who was making cereal in the kitchen.

“
I deserve to know,” I said, putting my hands on the table. “Why didn’t you tell me last night?”

“
I needed to think.” Mom sighed. “I have the same connection with Aaron’s father.”

I couldn’t breathe. I took a step backward, putting my hands over my mouth. “What?” I gasped.

“
When we met, he was already married, and I was engaged to your father,” Mom said. “Tara was on the way.
 
.
 
.I didn’t think it would be passed down. I had no idea.”

“
I.
 
.
 
.what? Oh, my gosh, I can’t believe this.” I ran my hands through my hair, not even caring that I was making it frizzy again after my careful grooming this morning.

“
What’s wrong?” Allie asked, bringing her bowl of cereal over.

“
Is it going to happen to her?” I asked Mom, my eyes widening. “Is it going to happen to Ginger?”

“
I don’t know.”

“
What about your sister?”

Mom shook her head. “I don’t know. I think she would have told me, though.”

“
No, she wouldn’t have. You didn’t tell anyone. I didn’t tell anyone. Because it sounds crazy!” I paced around, and Allie stared at me as she ate her cereal.