Now, doesn’t that make you wonder—”
“Not really,” the same voice called from the back.
Eureka glanced at her teacher, Ms. Kash, who turned sharply toward the voice, then gave a sniff of relieved indignation when she was sure it hadn’t come from one of her students.
“Imagine a future civilization examining some of the artifacts you or I might leave behind,” Margaret continued. “What would the people think of us? How might our brightest innovations—our iPads, solar panels, or credit cards—appear to distant generations?”
“Solar panels are Stone Age compared to what’s been done before.” The same voice from the back rang out again.
Madame Blavatsky had said something similar, minus the obnoxiousness. Eureka rolled her eyes and shifted her weight and didn’t turn around. AP Earth Science student from Ascension back there was clearly trying to impress a girl.
Margaret cleared her throat and pretended her rhetorical questions hadn’t been heckled. “What will our distant descendants make of our society? Will we appear advanced … or provincial? Some of you might be looking at these artifacts, finding them old or outdated. Even, dare I say, boring.”
Kids nodded. More snickering. Eureka couldn’t help but like the old anchors and terra-cotta vases, but the scarecrows should be drowned.
The docent fumbled her hands into a pair of white gloves, the kind Diana had worn when handling artifacts. Then she reached into a box at her feet and produced an ivory carving. It was an actual-sized duck, very detailed. She tilted the duck toward her audience and used her fingers to part its wings, exposing a cleanly hollowed basin inside. “Ta-da—Bronze Age cosmetics case! Note the craftsmanship. Can anyone deny how finely made he is? This was thousands of years ago!”
“What about these Bronze Age shackles over here?” the same voice jeered from the back of the room. Students jostled to get a look at the persistent heckler. Eureka didn’t waste the energy.
“Looks like your fine craftsmen owned slaves,” he continued.
The docent stood on her toes and squinted at the dark back of the room. “This is a guided tour, young man. There’s an order to things. Does anyone have an actual question back there?”
“Modern tyrants are fine craftsmen, too,” the boy continued, amusing himself.
His voice was starting to sound familiar. Eureka turned around. She saw the top of a blond head facing forward while everyone else was looking back. She crept along the edge of the group to get a clearer look.
“That’s enough,” Ms. Kash scolded, eyeing the Ascension faculty disdainfully, as if amazed none of them had quieted the student.
“Yes, be silent, sir, or leave,” Margaret snapped.
Then Eureka saw him. The tall, pale boy in the corner at the edge of the spotlight’s beam, the tips of his wavy blond hair illuminated. His tone and smirk were casual, but his eyes flashed something darker.
Ander was wearing the same pressed white shirt and dark jeans. Everyone was looking at him. He was looking at Eureka.
“Silence is what causes most of humanity’s problems,” he said.
“It’s time for you to leave,” Margaret said.
“I’m done.” Ander spoke so quietly, Eureka barely heard him.
“Good. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ll explain the purpose of this early sea voyage,” Margaret said. “The ancient Egyptians established a trade route, perhaps the first one …”
Eureka didn’t hear the rest. She heard her heart, which thundered. She waited for the other students to give up hope of another outburst, to swivel their heads back to the docent; then she edged around the group toward Ander.
His lips were closed, and it was hard to imagine them uttering the obnoxious comments that had drawn her over here. He gave her a slight smile, the last thing she expected. Standing close to him again gave Eureka the feeling of being by the ocean—independent of the starfish border, the sailor-crows, and the
She stood on his left side, both of them facing the docent, and whispered from the corner of her mouth. “You don’t go to Ascension.”
“The docent thinks I go to Condescension.” She heard the smile in his voice.
“You’re not on the Manor track team, either.”
“Can’t get anything past you.”
Eureka’s voice wanted to rise. His composure made her angry. Where they stood, a few steps back from the group and just past the edge of the spotlight, the light was dim, but anyone who turned around could see them. The teachers and kids would hear if she didn’t keep her whisper steady and low.
It seemed strange that more people weren’t staring at Ander. He was so different. He stood out. But they barely noticed him. Apparently everyone assumed Ander went to the school they didn’t, so his behavior wasn’t interesting. His heckling was a forgotten artifact Margaret was delighted to leave unrecovered.
“I know you don’t go to Evangeline,” Eureka said through her teeth.
“For neither education nor entertainment.”
“So what are you doing here?”
Ander turned and faced her. “I’m looking for you.”
Eureka blinked. “You have a very disruptive way of going about it.”
Ander scratched his forehead. “I get carried away.” He sounded regretful, but she couldn’t be sure. “Can we go somewhere and talk?”
“Not exactly.” She gestured toward the tour group. She and Ander were standing five feet behind the other students. They couldn’t leave.
What did he want from her? First the car wreck, then showing up at her house, then following her to the lawyer’s office, and now this? Every time she’d encountered him, it was an invasion of privacy, a crossing of some boundary.
“Please,” he said. “I need to talk to you.”
“Yeah, well, I needed to talk to you, too, back when my dad got the quote for my car repair. Remember that? Except when I called the number you gallantly gave me, someone who’d never heard of you picked up —”
“Let me explain. You’re going to want to know the things I have to tell you.”
She tugged on her collar, which was too tight around her neck. Margaret was saying something about a drowned princess’s dowry. The mass of students began to shift toward some glass cases on the right side of the room.
Ander reached for her hand. His firm touch and soft skin made her shiver. “I’m serious. Your life is—”
She jerked her hand away. “I say one word to any teacher in here and you’re handcuffed like a stalker.”
“Will they use the bronze handcuffs?” he joked.
She looked daggers at him. Ander sighed.
The rest of the tour moved toward a display case. Eureka had no urge to join them. She both yearned and was afraid to stay with Ander. He put both hands on her shoulders.
“Getting rid of me would be a huge mistake.” He pointed over his head to a glowing exit sign half covered by blue gauze so that it read only IT. He held out his hand. “Let’s go.”
17
SKIMMING A SURFACE
Through the door beneath the exit sign, down a short, dark hallway, Ander led Eureka toward another door. They didn’t speak. Their bodies were close together. It was easier than she’d expected to hold on to Ander’s hand—it fit hers. Some hands just fit other hands. It made her think of her mother.
