And just so you know, if you have the urge to run and tell him, feel free. I won’t deny it.”
Oh, sweet, stupid Michael, I couldn’t have said it better myself. “Well, bra to the vo,” Brania shouted, clapping her hands in applause. “Looks like Mikey’s got himself a man, and I am woman enough to step aside.” Brania shrugged her shoulders and smiled. “I hope you don’t hold it against me, Michael. I would really like for all of us to be friends.”
There was something about Brania that reminded Michael of his mother. Nothing physical, nothing specific really; it was just her nature because she, like his mother, was quixotic, unpredictable. One minute Brania was writhing on his bed, then giddily sharing a childhood memory, then making bitchy comments, and now acting as if they were on the threshold of becoming best friends. His head was spinning; he couldn’t keep up with her mood swings. However, he did know for certain that he didn’t want to be her friend. Luckily, reinforcements had just arrived and he was spared having to respond to her request.
“Penry!” Michael shouted. He was thrilled to see his friend and just as unthrilled to see who he was walking with. “Nakano. Hi.” Michael literally bit his tongue because although he wanted to, for some reason he felt weird asking Nakano why he was wearing his sunglasses after sundown. Brania felt no such discomfort.
“If you’re trying to create an air of mystery, Nakano, you’ve failed. The sunglasses make you look like an idiot.”
Hopefully, these two knew each other, because even though Michael did not like Nakano, Brania’s statement was still embarrassing. By Nakano’s response Michael understood immediately that the two shared some sort of history. “Thanks, Bran. I have an eye infection, and sunglasses are a lot more attractive than oozing puss.”
“Well said, Kano. It’s good to know the Double A is still churning out eloquent students,” Brania mocked.
Penry didn’t care about Nakano’s contagion or Brania’s sarcasm; he had more important plans for the evening. “Mates, I’d love to stay and chat, really I would,” Penry said quickly, “but Imogene is waiting for me. She’s got a fifteen-minute choir break and we’re going to spend it snogging. Cheers!” They all laughed as they watched Penry race off toward St. Anne’s.
“How queer,” Brania said. “A boy lusting after a girl.”
“Shut up, Brania,” Nakano said. Only Ronan noticed Brania’s skin grow even paler, and he knew that later, when the two of them were alone, she would make Nakano regret his comment. Michael only noticed that, while he didn’t like Nakano, he had to admit that he did approve of how he handled Brania. He also approved of how simply, yet efficiently, Ronan handled their exit.
“It’s getting late. We should be heading back,” Ronan announced. “Do you have a car or something, Brania?”
“Such a gentleman. My driver is waiting for me at the front gate. And no, I don’t need an escort; I know my way around, and since Penry’s run off into the arms of his girlfriend, I think I’ll be quite safe.”
Again an owl hooted to fill the silence. Michael imagined an owl perched somewhere on a branch, acting as a lookout whose sole purpose was to create sound when there was none. “Brania, no hard feelings?” Michael extended his hand to her and she, after only the slightest hesitation, took it. He didn’t want to be her friend, he didn’t want her to think that this cordial expression was anything more than manners, but he was feeling magnanimous. After all, he was leaving with his boyfriend. Which was of course the last bit of information Brania felt the need to publicize.
“None at all, Michael,” Brania said. “You and your boyfriend have a lovely evening.” This time, there was no owl’s hoot to invade the silence, only Nakano’s sharpened breathing. Large intake of breath through his nose, strong push outward. “Oh, sorry, Kano, haven’t you heard? Your ex has moved on with the pretty blond American.” So Brania seemed to know quite a bit about Ronan and Nakano. She might not be hiding a butcher knife, but she was definitely dangerous.
Nakano still hadn’t controlled his breathing, but he was able to speak. “No, but that’s really great news.” By the tone of Nakano’s voice, it hardly sounded great; it sounded as if he had just announced the death of everyone on campus. But Michael figured that was to be expected. He had no idea what it felt like to lose a boyfriend; he hoped he never would. He wanted this to last with Ronan forever. Yes, yes, that’s a dumb comment, he knew that, but he didn’t care. He’d only had a boyfriend, his first, for about five minutes, so he wasn’t going to waste time thinking about how he would feel when the relationship was over. He just wanted to leave this place and go back to his dorm room with Ronan and pick up where they left off. Thankfully, Ronan wanted to do the same thing.
“Thank you,” Ronan said to Nakano. “But like I said, we have to go.”
Ronan shoved his hands into his pockets and turned, Michael followed, and the two of them walked back to his dorm, their bodies illuminated by the moonlight. Each wanted to hold the other’s hand, but it didn’t feel right. They knew they were being watched and they wanted to touch each other in public when they were ready, not because they felt they had to impress.
Fingers splayed out at his side, nostrils flaring, Nakano moved toward Ronan and Michael, intent on following them, but never made it past the first step. “Don’t move,” Brania commanded, then added in an unyielding tone, “Come with me. I have something to show you.”
Like a dog on a leash, Nakano followed Brania all the way to the edge of The Forest of No Return. His typical obstinate and uncooperative nature suppressed, Nakano didn’t ask where they were ultimately going to wind up, he didn’t ask what Brania wanted him to see, and he didn’t ask why it was so important that he see it tonight. He did what she said; he had no choice.
Although she was wearing heels, she had no problem navigating the rough ground of The Forest. She knew what holes to step over, what loose rocks to move around, when exactly to bend underneath a low-hanging branch. She had been here before.
When they reached the clearing, her car was waiting for them. The black sedan looked incredibly inappropriate here in the middle of The Forest, almost completely surrounded by immensely tall trees and no obvious path visible, but here it was. And standing next to the sedan, his hands folded in front of him, was Vaughan’s driver.
“Hello, Jeremiah,” Brania said.
“Ms. O’Keefe,” Jeremiah said, nodding his head slightly.
Nakano couldn’t keep silent any longer. “You brought me here to see a car?”
Brania turned to look at Nakano, more curious than angry that he spoke. “Did I say you could speak?” Behind his sunglasses Nakano rolled his eyes, tilted his head, and let out a little sigh. However, he made no verbal response, which was not good enough for Brania. When she spoke, it was slowly and deliberately. “I said, did I say you could speak?” Everyone remained silent. “Answer me.”
Finally, boldness was replaced with submission. Nakano may have secretly wanted to, but he didn’t dare, rile Brania. “No, you didn’t. I’m sorry.”
Pleased, Brania continued. “Now tell me, Kano, why aren’t you wearing your contacts?”
“They don’t fit me right; they hurt.”
“I understand,” Brania said in a surprisingly gentle tone that would’ve been appropriate for a kindergarten teacher. “But you must understand that they’re necessary. Your sunglasses, while quite flattering to the shape of your face, are conspicuous. And we don’t, at this moment in time, want to draw any attention to ourselves. Jeremiah can get away with them because they look like part of his uniform, but on you, people ask questions. Do you understand that?”
Nakano swallowed a nasty comeback. “Yes, Brania. I understand.”
“Good, because I have a gift.” She kept smiling at Nakano, but snapped her fingers at Jeremiah. “Trunk, please.”
Before Jeremiah could move, his cell phone rang. It wasn’t a standard ring, but the ending to Nessun dorma, the famous aria from the opera Turandot. The music swelled in the air, wrapping around the trees and the leaves and rising toward the stars. Brania closed her eyes and seemed entranced, as if she wanted to immerse herself within each note. “Don’t answer it.” Jeremiah wanted to, but he, like Nakano, didn’t dare betray Brania’s order. When he saw the caller’s name written on the phone, however, he grew concerned enough to speak.
“It’s Vaughan.”
The spell was broken, the music contaminated. Brania opened her eyes to look at Jeremiah, taken aback that he would interrupt her reverie. “I said don’t answer it.” She then asked no one in particular, “Why is no one doing as I say?”
