Perfected (Entangled Teen) (17 page)

Twenty One

I
don’t know whose idea it was to take me along to the opera—maybe the congressman’s wife, thinking that I’d be a good distraction for Ruby in case she became bored during the show—but somehow I ended up sitting between Ruby and Penn on the first mezzanine in the Metropolitan Opera House.

I’d never imagined a ceiling so high, or so grand. The golden gleam of it was lit below by the most enormous chandeliers. An elaborate velvet curtain hung almost four stories high in front of the stage like the gown of some beautiful, monstrous woman. If it had lifted up, I wouldn’t have been surprised to see two enormous feet perched on the stage.

Every nerve in my body was buzzing like a piano string that had been struck long and hard. I could almost hear the note hanging in the air around me.

I wanted so badly to lean against Penn, pulling him forward with me as I stared out over the audience, but I could hardly enjoy being this close to him, not because I was worried about the congressman seeing us together—he was still out in the lobby happily talking to a group of constituents—but because ever since we’d found our seats Claire had kept him wrapped in conversation, talking relentlessly about all the things she’d seen since she’d been away at college. And every time Penn would make even the slightest move to turn away from her, she’d launch in again about a favorite professor she couldn’t wait to introduce him to, or all the wonderful little coffee houses she’d discovered near campus. I wondered if she was purposefully distracting him from me.

From where we sat, right above the stage, I stared down at the musicians lined up in front. It seemed crazy to think this was their job, to sit in this beautiful auditorium night after night and play music.

“Are you okay?” Ruby asked, raising her eyebrows.

She’d been trying to talk to me ever since we sat down. She was leaning over the balcony and pointing out all the men with bald spots. It was a game she’d made up. She’d point out all the bald-headed men and I was supposed point out all the women with cleavage. But I could tell I was disappointing her. I’d only pointed out two people since we sat down.

“I’m fine,” I said, patting her hand. How could I explain to her the feeling I had in my chest? Fear and desire all knotted together inside of me. How, if I could, I would leap from the balcony and take my place at that piano.

Just then the lights flickered and the audience quieted. Once more and they dimmed completely. As if on cue, a hum rose from the orchestra, the sound of their instruments rising up to make one beautiful resonant sound. And for the first time since we’d taken our seats Penn turned to look at me. It was only one brief glance, but even in the dim light I knew what it meant—that he wished it was just the two of us here tonight.

“I’ve seen this one before,” Ruby whispered to me as the curtains opened to reveal a foggy stage “The girl dies and her boyfriend has to go to the underworld to get her back. It’s an old Greek myth, but they turned it into an opera with all the singing and stuff.”

The music built slowly and then, as if it was growing out of the fog, a chorus of voices rose from the stage. The pure beauty of the sound startled me and I gasped.

“Don’t be scared,” Ruby said, patting my leg. “They’re just the mourners. See? It’s Euridice’s tomb.”

I nodded, too distracted by the music to tell Ruby that it wasn’t the opera that frightened me.

We’d learned plenty of operas at the training center. I’d sung bits myself, but they never sounded like this before. The realization struck me; we’d been singing empty words all those years. Without emotion, the words had been useless. But as soon as the curtain lifted and the actors opened their mouths, I realized for the first time what those words were really made of—pain and heartache, so strong that you could see it stamped on their faces as they sang.

I leaned forward, watching as Orfeo vowed to rescue his love from the land of death. Around me, the whole world disappeared. I forgot all about the auditorium filled with thousands of red velvet seats. I forgot about the fancy chandeliers and the gilded railings.

Every muscle in my body strained forward as Orfeo approached the Gate of Hades. He was allowed to bring Euridice home, but only if he promised not to look back at her as he led her out of the dark labyrinth of the underworld. My fingers dug into the seat beside me and I struggled not to call out to him.
Don’t look back. Don’t look back.
But nothing I could do could stop him from turning back around to face his love. I was powerless to stop the tears that rolled down my cheeks as Euridice crumpled to the ground.

Penn’s hand brushed mine. I grabbed onto it, shivering as goose bumps spread up my arms. “How could someone write a story that ended this way?”

His eyes reflected a bit of the light from the stage. “It isn’t over yet.”

I held on tighter.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Claire glance at where our hands were clasped. Quickly, I pulled mine away.

For the rest of the show I kept my hands clutched tightly in my lap. My heart was beating fast, a nervous hammer that distracted me from the joyful sound rising from the stage. I could hardly appreciate seeing Euridice rise again and reunite with Orfeo. All I could think about was the look on Claire’s face when she’d glanced in our direction.

Had she seen? If she had, it would ruin everything. I’d taken the touch that Penn and I shared inside our secret garden and brought it into the light. And now Claire might know. What if she was angry? Or worse, what if she told her father?

As the lights came up, I wiped at my wet cheeks. Around us, the rest of the audience was getting to their feet,
ooh
ing and
ahh
ing about what a fantastic show it had been. They’d never seen such a delightful Orfeo, such a compelling Euridice they said, as they shuffled to find their purses and their jackets.

“How did you like the show, Ruby?” Claire asked, leaning across Penn.

“It seemed pretty much the same as the last time we saw it.” Ruby shrugged.

“And what about you?” Claire shifted her gaze to me. “Did you enjoy the show?”

My voice trembled. “Yes, very much.”

“It wasn’t too intense for you?” she asked. “Especially toward the end there?”

The congressman rose from his seat, looking pleased. “You know, they say you can tell a true opera lover by the look on her face after a show. I didn’t doubt Ella would love it. Look at her face. She looks like she’s been to hell and back right along with Orfeo.”

Claire cast an irritated look at her father, but she stayed quiet and I let out a relieved breath. We left the theater, walking down the gigantic curved staircase and out into the bustling crowd that milled about in front of the fountain in the courtyard. It had been a beautiful evening and I wished I could savor it all without the fear that I’d messed it up.

The sky had grown dark while we were inside, and now as we climbed back into the car waiting to take us back home, I stared transfixed at the lights of the city sprawled out before us. It seemed impossible that there could be so many lights, so many people. With Ruby’s warm body pressed up against me, my eyes grew heavy and as the wheels of the tires hummed beneath us, I closed my eyes and drifted off.

I
woke to the sound of my name and the brush of a hand against my cheek.

“Ella, we’re home, love,” the congressman said, lightly stroking the hair back away from my face.

I sat up, surprised to see that everyone else was gone. The car was empty, save for the congressman in the seat beside me.

“You were exhausted,” he said. “At first I thought you’d get up by yourself, but I’m starting to think you could stay out here all night if I didn’t wake you.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, rubbing my eyes. My cheek was cool from leaning against the glass. “The show must have worn me out.”

He reached across me to unfasten my seatbelt. “Yes, the theater can be draining,” he said. “But at least I know who to take with me the next time I have tickets.”

I swallowed. “I’d be happy to accompany you. It was beautiful.”

“Good.” He nodded.

The car was too quiet. His body was hot against my side, the smell of his cologne almost overpowering in the small space.

“It must be late,” I whispered. “Has everyone else already gone to bed?”

He turned and looked out the window at the quiet house. “Yes, it is late,” he said. “Too late for an old man like me.”

In the glow cast by the porch light the congressman’s face did look old and tired as he turned back to me. After a moment he lifted his hand to my face. His palm was hot against my cheek, but I didn’t move. He leaned imperceptibly closer to me and inhaled deeply, closing his eyes as he breathed me in. A small smile plucked at the corner of his lips. I couldn’t help the tremor that moved up my legs and through my arms and I took a shuddering breath, trying to still the shaking.

After a minute he dropped his hand back to his lap and opened the car door. The fresh night air wafted across my face and I scrambled across the seat and up the front steps.

“Good night,” I called behind me, walking quickly back through the study to my bedroom. When his footsteps faded down the hallway in the other direction, I stopped, leaning back against the wall in relief.

Missy’s words played through my mind as I walked the rest of the way back to my room. But nothing I told myself could erase the uneasiness I felt. If I really was safe, why did I feel so afraid?

I
closed my door behind me.

Across the room Penn sat on my couch, quietly waiting for me to return. A bit of moonlight shone through the window, lighting the side of his face. My heart leapt. I loved that face.

“Finally…” In a heartbeat, he crossed the room and was standing in front of me. “I was starting to think you’d never come.”

Almost delicately, he lifted his hand to my forehead and brushed a strand of hair from my eyes. The touch was so light, almost invisible, but it sent a quiver down through my toes.

His body seemed so large, so solid in front of me, an anchor to hold on to. Unbreakable. I reached out for him in the dark, desperate to feel him, as if his presence could keep me from being swept away.

My touch was like a lit match, igniting him. He pulled me to his chest, just as frantic to hold me as I was to hold him. We stumbled back toward the bed, landing on the soft mattress with a
whoosh
, our mouths crashing together, our hands hungry for the feel of each other’s skin. It had only been a couple days since we’d been together, but I felt starved. I craved the taste of his mouth the way I craved Ruby’s candies, the memories never enough to fill me.

“We can’t stay here,” I panted.

He moaned. “Please, Ella.”

“No.” I shook my head, scooting back. “Your father’s still awake. We can’t.”

His face looked pained as he let go of me.

“I’m sorry.”

He shook his head and climbed off the bed, pulling me after him.

“What are you doing?”

“If we can’t stay here, we’ll go to the garden.”

He headed for the door, a little smile tipping the corners of his mouth upward. “It’s time for another swimming lesson anyway, isn’t it?”

I
t wasn’t any wonder I dreamed of Penn. But even in my dreams there was always that little breath of distance between us, so small, yet insurmountable. No matter how much I wanted to feel the press of his body against mine, there was always something holding us apart.

I stood inside one of these dreams, balanced one inch away from that kiss, when a hand touched my arm, pulling me up into the real world.

When I opened my eyes, it was morning. Not the dim blush of dawn I was in the habit of waking up to, but the bright, full light of day, yellow and streaming. I blinked twice, letting my eyes adjust.

“Rise and shine.”

I rubbed my eyes and moved my head to see the congressman standing beside my bed. He was already dressed in the casual clothes that meant he wasn’t going into work today: a crisp blue shirt, unbuttoned around the collar and rolled at the sleeves, and soft, tailored slacks.

I sat up in bed and pulled the covers up across my chest. “I must have overslept.”

“Yes, it’s getting late,” he said. “A person could stand here all day watching you sleep, but we’ve got places to go and people to see.”

“We do?”

He chuckled, but there was no humor in his eyes. “Well maybe we don’t have people to see, but you
will
be accompanying me on a little outing this afternoon.”

“Of course.” I pulled off the covers and hopped out of bed, overly conscious of the way his gaze followed me across the floor to the closet. “Is there something special I need to wear?”

“I don’t particularly care what you wear, as long as you don’t take too long getting ready.” He crossed his arms over his chest, sitting down on my couch as I sorted through my gowns.

I pulled down a simple, lilac colored dress and turned to hold it up for the congressman, who nodded his approval.

“Is there time for me to bathe before we go?” I asked, standing in the bathroom doorway. I could still smell Penn and the lingering scent of the pond on my skin.

The congressman must have noticed the way my face flushed, and he stood, perhaps assuming it was my embarrassment of having him in the room as I showered that made my cheeks color this way. “I have some business to take care of anyway,” he said, walking to the door. “We’ll leave after lunch.”

The hot water washed away all the traces of the night before. When I was finished bathing, I pulled on the clean gown, noticing the way the color turned my eyes greener than usual.

Maybe it was the nervousness of not knowing where he intended to take me, but I pulled my hair up in a braid around the crown of my head. It wasn’t much of a comfort, but at least it was one small things I could control.

T
he congressman didn’t join us for lunch and even though I wasn’t eager to see him, I started to get more and more nervous as the day grew late. He had seemed irritated when he woke me and I didn’t want to do anything else to aggravate him. Finally, right before dinner, he popped his head into the kitchen where I sat at the counter with Ruby watching Rosa cut potatoes.