look on his face is almost painful.
Griffon sighs and moves closer to me. “Remember when you asked me if I was hundreds of years old? In the park that day?”
I nod. “But you said that you’re only seventeen.”
“I wasn’t lying, I am only seventeen,” he says. “But I have memories of being twenty and thirty-five. More than once. Damn, Cole—I’ve been married before. Been a parent before.” It looks like the memories cause him pain. “When I do get involved with someone, I wait until I’m older, until I can meet people whose life experiences match mine.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I say, trying not to picture him with an older woman. “I don’t care how old you are.”
“It
I look down at the ground as he speaks, trying hard to keep the smile off my lips at those last words. “Have you ever told anyone your secret like this?” I ask. He shakes his head quickly. “It’s only unfair if you keep the truth hidden. I’m not some poor innocent girl who doesn’t know anything about you. I know about your past. All of them. Besides, you said it yourself—I’m becoming one of you. Soon enough, things will be equal.”
I watch him consider this, happy that for once I can tell him something that he didn’t already realize. Just as my resolve begins to waver, he walks toward me, his footsteps no longer kicking up dust, but decisive and strong. I say nothing as he bends down and presses his lips against mine in a kiss that feels like it’s hundreds of years overdue.
“A whole week.” I flop onto Rayne’s bed and grab a pillow, hugging it to my chest like I need something to fill the space that feels so empty. I’ve been trying so hard not to cry, but every time I think back to last Sunday night, hot tears prick the backs of my eyelids. Everything was perfect. Griffon was there, really there, with me that night, and now he’s gone. “It’s been a whole week, and nothing from him.”
Rayne flops down beside me and strokes my hair. From anyone else, I’d resent the gesture, would hate feeling like a pathetic baby. But from her, it’s okay. “Not true,” she says. “He texted you on Monday.”
I roll over and look up at her. “Okay. Five days. Like that’s any better.”
“Maybe they had to go somewhere in an emergency,” she says. “Maybe his dad is getting knighted by the queen and they had to fly all the way to England to see it.”
“Phones work in England,” I say into the pillow. “Face it, he’s not into me.”
“How can someone kiss you for the first time looking over the whole city and not really like you?”
“I don’t know.” I can hear my voice straining at the thought and take a deep breath to try to calm down. I’ve played the whole night over in my head a hundred times. What had I said wrong? Had I done anything stupid? Stupider than usual? “He says all this stuff, kisses me up on the hill, and then it’s like he just dropped off the face of the earth.”
“Did you call him?”
“No,” I say. “I don’t want to look needy.”
Rayne stares at me. “Mmm-hmm. You’re looking like a pillar of strength right now.”
I sit up and brush the stray hair off my face. “I just have to deal with it. Griffon doesn’t really like me. I’m okay single. God knows I’ve had enough practice.”
“Oh, Cole, I can tell even you don’t believe that. There has to be an explanation. I saw you two together.”
“Come on,” I say, pushing off the bed and sounding a lot more casual than I feel. All of this wondering has built up nervous energy that I have to do something about. “Are we going out or what? I didn’t come over here to talk about Griffon all day. Mom gave me money to buy some clothes, and I’m not planning on wasting it.” I also don’t want to sit around all day staring at my cell wondering if Griffon is ever going to call.
“Fine,” Rayne says. “Downtown or the Mission?”
“Downtown,” I say, suddenly in the mood for big crowds and chain stores.
Rayne slings her big suede hobo bag over her shoulder. “Let’s go.”
Even though summer is still over a month away, the cable car turnaround at Powell Street is nearly invisible through the crowds as we get off the bus.
Rayne looks back at me. “You really want to do this?” She’s more of a Haight Street shopper than a Union Square one.
“Absolutely,” I say, my fake cheerful mood starting to push the heavy weight off my chest. “Let’s go this way down Market Street. I’ve been dying for a cream puff from the guy at City Center. Be nice to me and I’ll buy you one, too.”
Rayne grumbles but follows me down the crowded sidewalk, bumping shoulders with people as they hurry past. I’ve always liked this part of Market Street—even though the contents of the buildings have changed, the outsides look the same as they have for the past hundred years.
After a quick stop in the food hall of the City Center, we push through the crowds back outside, licking the remains of the cream puffs off our fingers. “Now what?” Rayne asks, looking up and down the busy street.
As we stand surrounded by tall buildings, I start to feel a tug inside. Not as strong as the visions that I’ve been having, but a feeling that I’m close to something important. The feeling like I have to go and find something. I’ve had these feelings before, but have always shrugged them off. Maybe all along I’ve been getting clues to who I’ve been—and maybe who I’m going to be. “Feel like walking?” I ask Rayne, both excited and horrified by what we might find. At least if I pass out again, she’ll be there to help.
“Depends,” she says, watching me carefully. “Where to?”
“Not sure yet.” As an experiment, I try to shut down all of my logical thought and let my emotions guide me. I stop on the corner before turning left and heading up Mason Street. Apparently my emotions are guiding me toward Nob Hill.
Rayne rushes to catch up. “Not sure yet, but you’re in a hurry to get there?”
“I know it sounds crazy, but I have to go find something,” I say, consciously slowing my pace. “Only I don’t know what it is.”
“Okay, now you’re starting to weird me out,” she says.
“Welcome to the club.” I don’t say anything more, just try to focus on the feelings I’m having and the pull that I sense as I walk. I know that if I think about it too much, I’ll wreck it. The only sound is our breathing as we make our way to the top of the steep hill. As we get to the top, I see it, almost as if it has a big neon sign on it. I had no idea what I was looking for, but I’m sure I’ve found it.
“The Fairmont Hotel?” Rayne asks, looking at the international flags flapping above the awning of the huge old hotel. “My mom’s friend stayed here once.”
“No,” I say, looking across the street to the left. “That one.”
“What is it?” We join the crowd of people in the crosswalk as the little neon man counts down how much time we have to get across.
“No idea,” I reply. I feel calm and excited at the same time. This is definitely the place. Excitement gives way to familiarity as I stare at the steps that lead up to the big columns supporting the front of the large brown mansion.
“Fancy,” Rayne says, looking around. “You planning a wedding here or something?”
I shoot her a look. “Listen, if something weird happens, don’t freak out, okay? I’m fine … I’ll explain it later.” Before I can change my mind, I put my foot on the bottom step and slowly make my way to the top. Images of men in top hats and ladies in sweeping gowns flash through my head. And music—cello music. I remember carriages pulling up to these very steps, and well-dressed people greeting each other as they approach the mansion.
