His Eyes (5 page)

Sure, it wasn’t shag, but it was still unnatural. The walls bore hundreds of plaques for excel ence in various sports and academics. Further down the dim hallway, I could see lockers painted maroon and closed wooden doors. Really, the place reminded me more of an office than a school.

wooden doors. Really, the place reminded me more of an office than a school.

Tristan’s hand unexpectedly slid down from my arm to wrap around my waist. I shivered as he breathed into my ear, “Just pretend.”

Oh, I could do that. Wait—what was I pretending?

I had no chance to ask. I had been following Kristy at a distance, so when she turned a corner and entered a room on the right, I did too. As soon as we walked in, everyone inside turned to look. I felt myself turn all shades of red while Tristan pulled me closer. And then I knew what we were pretending as plainly as if he had told me: we were letting his classmates tell themselves that he wasn’t blind, that he had been on some mysterious adventure with a mysterious girl. Me, the prop.

If I was in my right mind, I would have walked out right then. But I was frozen. We were in a large room, probably the size of two classrooms put together, and there were about fifty Clarence seniors staring at me. They were all in Rodeo Drive-level outfits and seated at round tables covered—
honestly
—with white cloths. At the head of the room, a large screen was suspended from the ceiling and onto it was projected what appeared to be the layout for their graduation. An older man was standing behind a podium, his laser pointer burning into the screen while he, too, stared.

I grimaced, ducked my head, and pulled Tristan toward the closest table. As I moved a chair to sit, he bumped his leg into the seat next to me. He removed his hand from my hip and, discreetly feeling along the chair, managed to sit down. At the front of the room, the man cleared his throat, reclaiming everyone’s attention, and explained, “Now, as I was saying before Mr. Edmund decided to grace us with his presence, you will all be seated alphabetically. We will begin....” I was distracted by the whispering of the other students. At first, I could only hear bits and pieces. Then, I clearly heard a girl’s voice. I turned to see Kristy, sitting at a nearby table with four other girls. One was whispering, “So, I was talking to this girl who dated Tristan when he was a sophomore—”

“Really, who
didn’t
date him?” asked another.

“You did, Kristy,” said a third.

Kristy shot, “Yeah, but that was junior year, when he was hot. Now look at him.” All of the girls turned and I quickly snapped my head back toward the screen. “He’s wearing sunglasses indoors. He didn’t use to have to try that hard to be cool.”

Hey, I didn’t think he looked bad! Not that I didn’t wonder what he looked like without the glasses.

“Do you think he
is
blind?” the fourth girl asked.

The first girl said impatiently, “As I was saying, I was talking to this girl who dated Tristan and
she
said that he wanted to spend all of his time riding his horse! Can you believe it?”

“
Come on
.” I could almost hear Kristy’s eyes roll. “Tristan and I were
always
fooling round.”

“But I don’t think he even dated anyone this year,” hissed another, “you know,
before
he disappeared.” I bit my cheek and kept my head facing forward. They were just rumors. Just rumors. Who cared about his dating history, anyway? I tried to focus at the man who was droning, “Now, if you will welcome your Valedictorian, Joseph Eccles. He will run through his speech notes with you and would certainly welcome any constructive criticism you may have to offer. After all, Clarence speeches have a history of....” Blah.

Blah.

Unable to resist any longer, I leaned close to Tristan and whispered, “So, exactly how many of the,” I glanced around the room, “thirty girls in your class did you date?”

“Only one’s a senior, but I’ve dated thirteen girls from Clarence,” he answered easily. “But more would’ve dated me, if I’d asked.”

I muttered, “Way to be humble, Romeo.”

Breathing shallowly, I tried not to think about why it bothered me that he had dated so many girls.

Because it didn’t matter—it didn’t!
I
had dated before, though not nearly that many guys... Whatever.

I vaguely heard applause as Valedictorian What’s-His-Name finished speaking. The older man, who I guessed was the headmaster, reclaimed his podium. “Thank you, Joseph. I look forward to your speech tomorrow. Now, we will have a short break. If you all would care to indulge, the PTA has provided tomorrow. Now, we will have a short break. If you all would care to indulge, the PTA has provided refreshments. In ten minutes we will hear Salutatorian Sarah Tyson’s speech notes and then the Student Government will tell you their plans for the post-graduation dance.” The conversations that I’d heard whispered grew a few decibels louder. I pushed my chair away from the table and asked with forced politeness, “Do you want anything?” Seeming uncomfortable, Tristan folded his arms and said, “I don’t know—a Coke?”

“Okay.” I walked off toward the side of the room where a table held cans of pop and plates of cookies. I was staring at the numerous types of pop, wondering what kind to get for myself, when I felt someone stand close to me. I turned and jumped, seeing Kristy staring at me from barely six inches away. I plastered a smile on my face. “Oh, hi!”

“Hey. Amy, right?” She nonchalantly reached down and picked up a sugar cookie. “So, are you dating Tristan?”

“What?” I was surprised by the forwardness of her question. “Uh, no. I’m his...assistant.”

“Oh, assistant?” Kristy leaned further into my bubble. “Then Tristan really
is
blind? Or is he faking because he didn’t want to come back to school?”

“I don’t think so.” I looked over at Tristan, who seemed to be staring off into space while the room buzzed around him. This, an elaborate scheme to get out of school? I hadn’t thought about it before. I said tentatively, “Once, I saw him trip....”

Kristy nodded, but continued to tower over me. “If I were you, I’d want to know for sure. He could just be skipping school because he wants to avoid—someone.” She looked away for a second and I knew she was referring to herself. “And he hates root beer. There’s no way he’d drink it, if he could see the can.” I hesitated, looking from the can of Coke in my hand to the inviting can of root beer on the table.

Couldn’t he have tripped to scare me away, so I wouldn’t discover his lie? Even his brother had said that he thought I wouldn’t come back... My fingers closed around the root beer and I walked back to the table.

Snapping the top, I pushed the can into his hand. My stomach tightened with anticipation as I said, “Here you go.”

The room grew quiet—maybe because the Salutorian had stepped up to the podium—when Tristan brought the can to his lips. The world seemed to go into slow motion. I watched as he took a large gulp of the pop and immediately gagged. He slammed the can down and hissed, “
Sick
! You think that was funny?” He threw back his chair and stood up. “I’ll get it myself!” The room was now most certainly, and completely, and utterly silent. I could feel a hundred eyes staring in our direction and then the laughing began. It was awful, muffled snickering. Worst of all, I could see the noise reflected in the horror on Tristan’s face when he realized the scene we’d just caused. He quickly took a step forward, intending to flee, but my chair was in his way and, in one dreadful movement, he crashed onto his knees.

All traces of doubt were wiped from my mind: he was most definitely blind. And I was an awful person.

The quiet laugher rippled and rose into a wave of wicked whispers as I scrambled to his side. I spoke under my breath, “Oh no, oh no.”

Above the gossip, I could hear Kristy gasp, “He really
is
blind.” Feeling my touch, Tristan ripped away and growled, “Get off of me!” Well, I’d successfully placed myself back into square one. Wait a minute—I wasn’t going back to square one! I’d made a bad,
bad
mistake, but I couldn’t run away and let him return to moping. With renewed spirits, I wrapped my arm around his waist and helped him to his feet. “Come on. We have to get out of here.”

This time, he didn’t resist.

We made it outside where a light rain was still falling from the sky. Not knowing what to say, I wordlessly guided him to the passenger door. As I headed toward the driver’s side, I heard him declare quietly, “I’m going home.”

going home.”

This time, I didn’t lecture on his word choice.

* * *

The phone rang for a second and then a familiar voice asked, “hello?”

“Hey, Ahna.”

“
Amy
?” She sounded like she thought I was dying. “Ohmygosh, what’s wrong?!” I laughed shakily at her tone. “Nothing. Just ruining my life, that’s all.”

“Are you
crying
?”

“What?” I touched my cheek and was surprised to find that it was wet. “Uh, yeah.” I could feel Ahna getting into serious-mode because I wasn’t a crier—okay, maybe when watching Disney movies, but that was it. “Tell me what happened.”

I turned up the wipers on my car, but that did nothing for the blurriness of my vision. With a sigh, I pulled to the side of the road. “Well, I tried to rush dinner like we planned, but it didn’t work and I had to leave—”

“Leave a
Charlie
dinner
?” Only Ahna could truly understand such a seemingly little thing’s significance.

“Your mom must have freaked!”

“But that’s not the worst of it!” I moaned. “I took Tristan to that rehearsal thing and most of the Clarencites didn’t even know he was blind. He put his arm around me—”

“Oooh,” she cooed.

“I think he wanted them to think, I don’t know, that I was the reason he was gone or something? I mean, why would he show up out of nowhere with a girl, right?”

Ahna was quick to rise to my defense. “So, he was using you as a prop? What a jerk!”

“Well, the Clarencites are really mean and....” My voice trailed off.

“And,
what
?” she demanded.

In a rush, I admitted, “And I gave him the wrong pop to see if he was just faking being blind.”

“Amy, seriously, who would fake something like that?”

I covered my eyes with my hand and tried to explain, “I don’t know, but there was this girl and they were talking about him dating all these people and...then he fell.” There was a moment of silence and then she screamed so loudly that I had to pull the phone away from my head. “
You tripped him again
?”

“Uh, my chair did....” I wiped the remaining tears from my cheeks. “I know: I’m stupid.”

“My gosh, Aim! Don’t you
want
to keep the best-paying job in Grayfield? Not to mention the fact that you like him—”

“I do not!”

I could feel Ahna rolling her eyes. “Yeah, whatever. But, you shouldn’t let the Clarencites get to you like that. You’re better than that, Aim. I know you. Remember, for most of seventh grade you wore shirts made out of burlap ‘cause your mom said it would keep kids out of sweatshops? You take the high road, even if it’s rough.”

“Ha ha. Very funny.”

“I’m serious!” she complained.

“You’re right. I don’t know what was wrong with me!” I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and whispered, “Do you think he’s still mad?”

She snorted. “How the heck should I know? But put it this way: If
I
ever go bind, I’m not asking you to get me a drink.”

“Thanks, Ahna.” My heart fell. “You’re a big help.”

“Okay, you need to make yourself look hot.”

“Ahna, he’s
blind
!”

“Hey, it’s gonna make you feel more confident. Trust me.” Her sisters began shouting in the background. “Listen, I have to run. Why don’t I come over tomorrow and give you a hand?”

“Yes!
Please
!” I begged. Ahna wasn’t any more into fashion than I was, but living with so many sisters, she had picked up a thing or two. Without her help, I don’t think I would’ve made it to a single dance.

The complaint that Ahna was hogging the phone became louder.

“
Just a minute
,” she hissed and then told me, “He’ll be drooling at your feet in no time.”

“That’s not exactly what I had in mind.”

“Right,” she laughed. “’night, Aim.”

“’night.”

I turned off my phone and threw it back into my bag. Ahna was wrong. I didn’t want Tristan to
like
like me, just to like me. Acquaintance level. Platonic. Anything more would be... Well, it wouldn’t happen. I paused, closing my eyes and listening to the quiet. Then I pulled back onto the darkened road and turned the Queen tape back on.

I was singing to myself by the time I pulled into my driveway. I stepped from my car, folding my arms against the cold and noticed that the porch lights were on. Through the windows, the house appeared dark, even though it wasn’t late. I unlocked the front door and slid inside, brushing my hand against the wall to keep my bearings. As I entered the kitchen, the lights flicked on and I blinked in surprise.

Dad sat on one of the kitchen chairs. He looked more tired than his fifty years required of him. I was worried what he would say, but he smiled at me. I took the seat he gestured to and he asked, “How did it go, tonight?”

I sighed. “Oh, all right.”

He nodded and rubbed his lined forehead. “Your mom and I had a long talk tonight. We realize that we’ve been putting too much pressure on you, all of these years, about the dinners. It’s not going to bring Charlie back and it was unfair of us to expect you to live your life around them. After all, next year you’ll be off at Ill inois U....”

I winced when I was reminded that I hadn’t told him about Evanston. I leaned forward and said, “Don’t worry about it, Dad—”

His blue eyes glittered with certainty. “No, Amy, I mean it! There aren’t going to be any more special

—what is it you and Ahna call them?—‘Charlie dinners.’” I blushed; we always thought my parents didn’t know about our nickname. “So, if you want to make any plans for tomorrow night, you can go right ahead.” Speaking of which... “Actually, I
am
supposed to sit tomorrow night at seven.”

“All right.”

I got up and kissed him on the forehead. “I love you, Dad.” He patted my cheek. “I love you, too.”