'Un-hunh.'
'Really, nothing!'
'That's the fastest fading sunburn I've ever seen,' she remarked.
I plucked at the grass.
'Did he kiss you?' she persisted. 'Is that what you were doing when I barged in?'
'Why would you even think something like that?' I replied.
'Oh, I don't know,' she said, smiling. 'Maybe it's those glances you keep stealing at each other during rehearsal, or maybe the way Mike murmured, 'A wall,' as if he was still feeling your kiss on his lips.' She eyed me. 'Whoa! There it is again, that mysterious recurring sunburn.'
I bit my lip.
'Why are you fighting this?' she asked.
Because he was Liza's boyfriend and had lied about it. Because I knew I couldn't compete. Because it was scary, the spell he cast on me, the way I felt when he was near.
'He lives in Trenton,' I told Shawna. 'I live in New York.'
'So what's that-an hour and a half by car, less by train? Ever heard of Greyhound? Amtrak? E-mail? I think you're making excuses.'
I didn't deny it.
'But I'll play along,' she said. 'This afternoon, at least,' she added with a grin, then mercifully changed the subject.
When she returned to rehearsal I went downstairs to see what Tomas wanted me to do next. Mike must have cleaned up our paints. He and Paul were in the corner of the room, Mike measuring a board, Paul standing a foot away, running his finger up and down the length of a saw. Keri sat nearby, chipping at her fingernails, looking bored.
Brian had come downstairs and was talking with Tomas. I watched them a moment, feeling proud of Tomas, the way he was managing everything and earning people's respect.
'Hey, Jen,' Tomas called, 'would you bring over a hammer? There's one in the toolbox right behind you.'
I nodded and knelt down to unfasten the latches of the metal box. Lifting the lid, seeing that the hammer's handle was buried beneath other tools, I reached for its head, trying to extract it. I pulled back in surprise. The steel felt ice cold. Reaching down to grasp it again, I saw the metal glimmering blue. I touched it and cold traveled up my arm, as if my veins had been injected with ice. My shoulders and neck grew numb, my head light, so light I had to close my eyes.
Then I jerked and was free of the floating feeling, but I wasn't at Stoddard anymore. I stood breathless, as if I'd been running fast. Clutching my side, I opened my mouth trying to breathe silently, afraid to make the slightest noise. I could see little in the darkness that surrounded me, but I smelled the creek and heard its black water lapping against the pilings. I knew I was in terrible danger.
Soft footsteps hurried across the structure above me. I looked up and listened, trying to judge the direction the person was heading. My direction, I thought, panicking, no matter what, it would be my direction.
Step by step I moved forward in the darkness, hating the feel of the swampy ooze but knowing I had to keep on. About twenty feet behind me I heard the muffled thud of feet landing on wet ground.
I hid behind a piling and listened to my pursuer walking in the mud, moving steadily closer. My heart pounded so loudly I thought the person had to hear it. If he or she discovered me now, I'd be trapped.
I bolted, splashing through the shallow water. The person was after me in a flash. I tripped and fell facedown. Tasting mud, gasping for breath, I scrambled to my feet. A distance ahead I saw a wall of grass, tall as com, and beyond that, a lighter, open area. Bright lights shone from the tops of poles.
If I could make it as far as the lights, maybe someone would see me, maybe someone would help me.
Then I felt a powerful blow from behind. Pain exploded at the base of my skull. Every nerve in my body buzzed with it-every second of agony so excruciating, I could not stay conscious. I fell headfirst into darkness.
When I opened my eyes I was in Brian's arms. He knelt on the floor next to the toolbox, holding me, searching my face, his own face lined with worry.
'Jenny, Jenny, are you all right?'
I nodded, unable to speak. The crushing pain at the back of my skull had disappeared, but the memory of it was so intense it dulled my senses and made the present seem less real. Tomas and others working on scenery had gathered around me. Paul watched me with keen eyes. Keri stood next to him, looking as if she'd finally seen something of interest. I knew Mike was next to Keri, but I didn't allow myself to look at him, afraid he'd see how much I wished he was the one holding me.
'What happened?' Brian asked gently.
'I don't know.'
'Why did you faint?'
I shook my head, unable to think of an answer that would make sense to him and the others.
'Did you get lunch, Jen?' Tomas asked. 'When you went back to Drama House, did you get something to eat?'
'No. I'm sure that's it,' I said, seizing upon the excuse.
Brian brushed my hair back from my cheek, his dark eyes doubtful.
'I'm okay,' I told him, sitting up, pulling away from him.
He let go reluctantly. Tomas, who had been searching his pockets, leaned over and handed me a candy bar.
'Perfect,' I said. 'Thanks.'
'Why don't I walk you back to Drama House?' Brian suggested.
'No, I'm fine and want to keep working. There's the hammer, Tomas.'
He picked it up, then glanced at his watch. 'Everybody, let's start cleaning up. It's going to take us a while.'
I stood and followed some of the others to the corner of the room where they had been cutting out leaves. Brian, shaking his head at my stubbornness, returned to rehearsal.
For five minutes I picked up scraps of paper, then, when I thought no one was paying attention to me, I walked back to the toolbox. I sorted through it and grasped a hammer, first by the handle, then by its steel head, wrapping my fingers tightly around it. Nothing, I felt nothing, just a tool that was cool to the touch like the others in the box. It didn't turn icy cold, didn't make my head grow light; nothing glimmered blue.
I walked to the bench where Tomas had been working and laid my hand on the first hammer. Just cool, I told myself, but then the cold began to seep through the tips of my fingers. It flowed through my veins and up my arm. The bench's fluorescent fixture buzzed blue. My head grew light. I quickly thrust out my other hand, grasping the edge of the workbench to steady myself.
'You doing okay?'
I let go of the hammer. 'Fine.'
'Sorry,' Mike said, 'but I don't believe you.'
'I've never been better.'
'Better at what? Acting?' He waited, as if he thought I would change my answer. 'So I guess there's nothing I can do to help,' he concluded.
'No, but thanks.'
He took a step closer, leaned down, and whispered, 'Just so you know, you're supposed to swoon when I kiss you, not a half hour afterward.'
'That's not why I fainted.'
'Darn! And I was so sure.'
'Our kiss-that was just an accident,' I told him.
