The Hourglass Door (20 page)

“And that’s a bad thing?”

“Yes!”

“Because . . . ?”

“Because you’re Jason’s girl. You’re off the market. Dante should be up for grabs, but he’s not playing by the rules. I personally know of at least four girls who asked him to Valentine’s—Holly even asked him back in January!—but he turned down every single one of them.”

“Maybe he’s not into dances . . .” I said lamely.

“And maybe he wanted to go with you,” Natalie finished.

“He didn’t, though,” I said quietly. Yes, he had come to the dance, but it hadn’t been to see me. He’d been there to stop Zo from doing something dangerous.

I remembered what he had said in history:
Zo’s performance will have worked its way through the school in a few days.
Had Dante been there to stop Zo from performing at the dance? But why? How could singing a song be dangerous?

I shook my head, dislodging a string of unanswerable questions.

Natalie finished off my water. “I bet he would have if you hadn’t been going with Jason.”

“But I’m not Jason’s girl anymore,” I said softly, watching my one-time boyfriend crumple up his lunch sack in his hands.

“I know,” Natalie said just as softly, her eyes on him as well, a strange mix of emotions crossing her face.

I felt a catch in my throat. My friend was in love with my ex-boyfriend. I knew I should be willing to step aside for her, but I wasn’t sure I could do that. My past was filled with memories of Jason. Letting him go would be like letting go of myself. And then there was Dante. I counted him as a friend—and maybe as something more—but did pursuing a relationship with him mean I’d have to cut Jason out of my life entirely? Couldn’t I have both? Couldn’t I find some balance between them?

The bell rang. I watched Jason stand up from the table and walk away, surrounded by his pack of friends. Natalie grabbed her sunglasses and followed him down the hall.

I felt myself teetering on the edge of tears. Everything was such a mess. I waited until the cafeteria was empty before I slowly got to my feet and made my way to class, my steps filled with uncertainty.

~

“Valerie! Wait up!” I hitched my backpack higher on my shoulder and jogged across the courtyard toward her. She was standing by the edge of the parking lot talking to someone—V. I missed a step when I recognized him.

I saw her lean forward, give him a quick kiss, and then shoo him away. He disappeared in the maze of cars before I reached Valerie’s side.

“What are you doing? Didn’t you hear the announcements this morning? You know he’s not supposed to be on school grounds.”

“What? He stopped by to see me.” Valerie tossed her jet-black hair over her shoulder. She hadn’t dyed it again after the dance and it looked almost purple in the afternoon light. “Some of us have
nice
boyfriends.”

I cocked my head, confused by the harsh remark. “Principal Adams said—”

“Oh, please, Abby, I thought you didn’t pay attention to
rumors.
” Valerie headed back to the school and I walked in her wake.

“It’s not a rumor if it’s the truth.”

She stopped, turning on me. “What are you talking about?”

“The bad stuff that’s been going on? I think V has had a hand in it. V and Zo and Tony.”

Valerie arched an eyebrow with deadly precision. “Really.”

I squirmed a little under her piercing regard. “Yeah, I think—”

“
I
think you’re jealous.”

“What?”

She nodded. “It’s obvious, isn’t it? You wanted to be the only one with a good-looking Italian for a boyfriend, and now that I’m seeing V, you’re jealous.”

“That’s not it at all!” Anger and surprise snaked through me, making my hands shake. “Since when have I cared about the guys you date? But I don’t trust Zo and I don’t trust his friends, either. I’m worried about you, Valerie. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

She shrugged, which only made me angrier.

“Why are you acting like this? I had a really hard weekend and I don’t want to fight with you—”

“Whatever, Abby. Listen, I’m meeting V after rehearsal so can we talk about this some other time—like never?” She turned on her heel.

The words poured out of me without a chance of me stopping them: “I hate you so much it hurts.” For the first time I realized I meant them. My fingernails dug half-moons into the palms of my hands. My whole body shook with emotion.

Valerie waved at me over her shoulder. “I love you too.” Her voice was venomous-sweet.

Speechless, I watched her walk away from me. What was happening? First Jason. Now Valerie? Where was all this anger coming from? Had everyone around me gone crazy? For a moment I wished I could have those strange white flashes of the future again. At least then I might have some warning. At least then I might not get hurt.

~

I stumbled into rehearsal a few minutes late, but Dave didn’t notice. I was pretty sure no one noticed. I blotted my eyes with a wadded-up tissue, making a mental note to have more on hand. I would need a steady supply if breaking down at school was going to become a regular habit.

“Okay, people, let’s run that scene one more time. And with feeling, please!” Dave’s voice crashed through the speakers.

Taking a deep breath, I grabbed my clipboard and a pen. I marched up to Dave, tapping him on the shoulder. “Hi.”

“Oh, Abby. You’re here. Good. I’m trying to convince Claudio and Hero that they really
are
in love with each other, but it’s impossible. And don’t get me started on Benedick and Beatrice! I don’t understand it. You’d think we were running the show for the first time instead of practically being at dress rehearsals—”

“What would you like me to do?”

“Dante’s been helping Jason put the finishing touches on Leonato’s house. Would you check on their work, please? I swear, I don’t know what I’d do without Dante today. He’s about the only person besides you willing to work. At this point, I’m willing to forgive him for missing the last few rehearsals.”

“I’m on it,” I said, though my heart didn’t want to play along. Dante? Working with Jason? This should be fun. I sighed and trudged up the stage stairs.

Slipping behind the back curtains, I crept up on Leonato’s house. Maybe I could check on them without being seen . . .

I peeked through the curtains. Jason and Robert were hanging the shutters on the side windows of the house. I could hear the rise and fall of their voices, asking for tools and discussing the basketball team’s chances for a win on Thursday. A few other crew members bustled around the building, weaving the plastic grapevines through the lattice-work roof and painting the inside of the house light blue.

Dante sat on the floor of the porch, a screwdriver in his gloved hand, affixing the railing to the banister poles. Everyone gave him a wide berth, and he seemed happy to be left alone with his work. He wore a simple gray tank top and jeans, and was scrubbing the sweat off his forehead with a bare arm. I realized with a start that the deep slash that Zo’s blade had left on his arm was gone. No bandage. No gauze. Nothing but smooth skin.

“Not even a scar to show the ladies,” I said to myself. I thought I was quiet, but Dante’s head perked up and he looked straight at me.

“Abby?” Dante’s voice, full of happy surprise, reached out to me through the darkness.

I parted the curtains and stepped lightly onto the porch. I saw Jason see me and then turn away.

“Don’t mind him,” Dante said, motioning me closer. “He’s angry.”

I grimaced. “Popular emotion today.” I sat down on the floor next to him. It was cool in the shadows backstage. I wondered how long I could hide out back here before Dave would need me again.

Dante glanced at me. “I told you—don’t worry. Things will be better tomorrow.”

“How can you be sure?”

Instead of answering me, Dante smoothed a soft cloth over the portion of the railing in front of him. “What do you think? It’s been a while since I’ve done any freehand woodwork. Do you like it?”

The banister was at eye level. As my eyes adjusted to the dimmer light, I could see a thick pattern of flowers carved into the curved wood. Blossoms blended into ribbons, which flowed around stems and leaves, which bloomed into more petals. Following the lines soothed my tired eyes and lifted my heart. I felt like I could almost smell the rich roses, touch the petals. I gasped when I realized that the delicate carvings covered the entire length of the banister railing.

“You did this?” I couldn’t take my eyes off the beautiful work. “By hand?”

I sensed Dante shrugging next to me. “I keep telling people I’m good with my hands, but no one seems to believe me.”

“It’s . . . it’s amazing,” I said, feeling the utter inadequacy of the word to describe what I saw.

A mischievous grin touched his lips. “Look here.” He pointed to the bottom of the railing where it curved into the banister pole. I thought I saw letters hidden in the labyrinth of vines in the dark wood. A name.
Beatrice.

My eyes spelled out the letters, noting the small hook at the bottom of the “t.”

“Is that . . . ?”

“She’s an interesting character, wouldn’t you agree? Feisty and headstrong. Vibrant. I was imagining her as a young girl, lazing away a summer afternoon, bored with waiting for her life to begin, and then . . . daring to leave her mark.” Dante ran the ball of his thumb along the hidden name. “Declaring to the world,
‘Questo chi sono. Ero qui. Importo.
’”

“In English, please.”

“‘This is who I am. I was here. I matter.’”

The passion in Dante’s voice tugged at my weary heart. I regarded him for a moment. “That’s my middle name, you know,” I whispered.

He turned his gray eyes to me, soft as a rain cloud. “I know.” He reached out his hand and almost touched mine. “If anyone sees this, they’ll think I did it for the play. But I did it for you.”

A stone fist clenched my heart. I didn’t have to look behind me to know exactly where Jason’s small carved butterfly hung frozen in the wood, quietly floating next to my initials. Had it been only a few weeks since Jason had given me that gift? Why did it feel like forever ago? It seemed impossible that just a couple of days ago Jason had dropped me off at my house in my Valentine’s dress and driven away, and yet here I was with someone else. Everything was happening too fast. I wanted to be friends with Dante but I didn’t think I had the strength to try dating him just yet.

Tears welled up in my eyes. “I have to go. Thank you for showing me your work. It’s perfect.”

I stumbled through the curtains and across the stage, falling into the first available seat in the auditorium. Through tear-filled eyes I saw my whole life spread out in a tableau on stage: Dante, pushing aside the curtain, a concerned line creasing his forehead. Jason, standing behind Dante, a jumble of emotions on his face: seething anger, bewildering loss. Valerie, chatting with Lily, pointedly ignoring me.

What in the world was I supposed to do now?
Just hang on until opening night,
I told myself.
Just play your part until then.

Maybe if everyone could just play their parts and leave me alone, I’d figure out a way to survive the intervening weeks. Somehow.

Chapter

13

Surviving the next week turned out to be the least of my worries. Surviving the afternoon was going to be hard enough on its own.

Rehearsal proved to be the worst we’d had since day number one. Afterward, as I walked toward the parking lot, Valerie sped by me in her cherry-red Lexus. So much for my ride home.

“Great,” I muttered, though after our earlier fight and an entire afternoon of frosty non-communication, I wasn’t particularly surprised that she had ditched me.

I
was
surprised, however, to see Jason drive past a moment later with Natalie in the passenger’s seat.

“Double great,” I sighed, slinging my backpack off my shoulder and unzipping the top. Fishing out my cell phone, I flipped it on, only to see a fat red line bisecting the battery icon.

“Triple great!”

“What’s great?” Dante asked from behind me.

I shoved my phone into my backpack again, turning around. “Oh, just my stupid sister drained my stupid cell phone battery and now I’m stranded here without a car or a phone or a way home since my stupid friends are either mad at me or—in one special case—dating my extremely recent ex-boyfriend.” My voice cut off as I felt the familiar prickling of tears in the back of my throat. No. I wasn’t going to cry. Not now. Not in front of Dante.

“I’m sorry.” I gulped down the icy air. “I just remembered—you wanted to talk to me after rehearsal. What’s up?”

“It’s not important right now.” He brushed back his hair with a casual gesture. “Would you like me to walk you home?”

I shook my head, undone by his gentle voice. Mom and Dad had spent all weekend obviously not noticing either my reluctance to talk about the dance or the conspicuous lack of Jason’s visits over the weekend. Instead, I had spent the whole time playing endless rounds of A&B Clue with Hannah and her friends, trying to avoid awkward questions. No, I didn’t want to go home just yet.