I like that he’s thinking ahead. And that it includes me. “Screw the bomb people,” I say. “I think saving the world is pretty sexy.” I lace my fingers through his, feeling suddenly vulnerable and a little afraid. I glance around at the unfamiliar territory of his room. There are so many parts to his life I know nothing about. What can I possibly give him or show him that he hasn’t seen a million times before? I’m an average-looking junior in high school who knows what to do with a bow and a cello, and … what else? I can’t speak a dozen languages or draw a city from memory or even play chess very well—forget about putting all of the pieces back where they belong. I’m just me, and for the first time since we met, I’m wondering if that’s going to be enough.
“And here I was afraid you’d think I was some sort of physics geek,” Griffon says.
“Maybe I’ve been looking for just the right physics geek.” I look up at him, once again startled by the clarity of his eyes as he watches me. “So now that you’ve dragged me up here, aren’t you even going to kiss me?” I try to sound light and uncaring, but I’ve never meant anything more in my life.
The vibrations in the air between us grow stronger, almost visible, as he bends down and kisses me hard, all of the gentleness from before drowned out by the intensity of his body pressing against mine. My heart races being so close to him, and all at once I understand what people mean by desire. The idea that having this person pressed up against you isn’t enough, that you want more, want to be inside them so that there is no separation between your bodies. I bury my face in his neck, wishing that I could stay in this one moment, in this one lifetime, forever. I reach under his shirt, desperate to feel as much of him as I can.
Griffon pulls away slightly. “Let me go take a quick shower,” he says. “I’m still all sweaty from the game.”
“No. Don’t,” I say quickly. “I like it.”
He looks surprised, but doesn’t move away. Instead, he takes my hand and leads me to the big wide bed, pulling me down with him. He kisses my neck and traces my collarbone with his lips before pausing to brush my hair back from my face. “God, do you know how beautiful you are?” His voice trembles as he speaks, and I can feel the restraint he’s exercising in the vibrations that are charging every inch of him.
He props his head up on his left hand as he positions himself next to me, his right hand tracing the outline of my face. Griffon’s top lip curves so perfectly, so invitingly, that I can’t help but reach up and touch it, running my fingers over his face, knowing that I now have permission to do these things that I’ve only thought about over the past several weeks. I can see his muscles move under the thin fabric of his shirt; the veins that run down his neck and disappear into his collar make me long to see more, even in the dim light that drifts in through the curtains.
I push him back against the pillows, pulling the baseball jersey over his head, once again marveling at his smooth, honeyed skin. Griffon’s look is questioning, but he follows my lead and doesn’t protest as I ease his shirt off and toss it aside. I inhale sharply at the sight of his outlined muscles tapering into the slight dip of his baseball pants.
As I start to explore his warm skin, he gently grabs my hand and raises it to his lips, kissing my palm and moving toward me so that there is no visible distance between us, just a tangle of arms and legs, as close as we can get for now. A dull gold pendant hangs from the black cord around his neck. I reach for it with tentative fingers and watch as goose bumps form on his torso and an audible gasp rises from his throat. It’s an ankh, just like the ones we saw in the record store. And the tattoo on Janine’s neck.
My mind suddenly flashes to that cold, gray day on the scaffold and the pendant I placed into the hand of my executioner. Unlike Griffon’s, mine had been shiny and silver, with a dark red stone in the center, but the symbol is the same. A shiver runs up my spine as I remember what the girl in the store said about the meaning of an ankh.
Centuries ago, I’d had one too.
I hold my breath as I turn the corner toward my house. We’d texted all week, but Griffon hadn’t said anything about coming over, and I didn’t want to push it. Which is why I can’t help smiling when I see him sitting outside of my house on Thursday afternoon.
“You might as well come in,” I say, walking up close enough so that I’m inching into his personal space, but not close enough so that we’re actually touching.
“No,” he says. “I’m okay out here. I don’t want to distract you from the lesson.”
“Afternoon, Cole,” my neighbor says as he walks out of the house next door. He’s a Unitarian minister, and even though he’s always been cool to me, I step away from Griffon just a tiny bit. His dog Koda comes up and sniffs the retaining wall before lifting his leg and peeing on the corner, just like he does pretty much every day.
“Hi, Mr. Proctor,” I say.
“And you are?” he asks as he holds his hand out to Griffon.
“Griffon,” he answers, shaking his hand and smiling broadly. “Nice to meet you, sir.”
Mr. Proctor winks at him and nods to me. “You be good to our girl here,” he says, while I cringe inwardly. “She’s special. An actual prodigy.”
Griffon smiles at me. “That’s what I hear.”
As soon as Mr. Proctor is out of sight, Griffon leans in and presses his lips quickly to mine. I lace my fingers through his and he gives them a tight squeeze. His eyes seem to grow darker. “I’m not going to come in, but I do want Veronique to see me as she walks up the street.”
“I can deal with it,” I say, trying to convince myself as well as him. “It’s just a cello lesson. And Mom’s home.”
“Okay,” Griffon says. “As long as you can deal with it, you’ll be able to go out with me tonight.” He says it lightly, but without his customary smile. “Just for an hour or so.”
“What makes you think I don’t have other plans?” I hadn’t made any on purpose, hoping I’d see him, but I don’t want him to think I’m waiting around for him. Which I am.
“Do you?”
I grinned. “I do now.”
“Good. I’ll come up and get you after Veronique leaves.”
I glance up at our window, already trying to figure out how I’m going to get out of the house on a school night. “I’d better go and set up. Veronique’s going to be here any minute. Are you sure you don’t want to come up?”
“I’m sure. I feel better keeping an eye on things from down here.”
It’s me who leans in this time, kissing him harder on the mouth, not caring if anyone sees us. It’s so difficult to untangle my fingers from his and walk up the stairs alone, and I hope the lesson goes quickly.
Veronique is uncharacteristically late, so when she finally does arrive, we go straight to work, with no mention of Griffon sitting outside. I try to keep my mind on the notes, but I keep glancing at Veronique, hoping to find a flicker of recognition.
We play together for a while, me taking the more difficult melody parts and Veronique working on the easier harmonies. I feel myself starting to relax a little bit.
At the end of the last bar, we both reach up at the same time to turn the page, but as our hands brush, a sense of doom and anger flashes through the room for just a second, and I sit back hard in my chair.
“You okay?” Veronique asks, watching me with concern. “You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”
I blink and shake my head. The panic is gone now, as if the wave has curled over, saturating everything around me and then retreating. I inch away from her, the echoes of what Griffon has said about her racing through my mind, and suddenly I know that the visions aren’t random. Touching Veronique is what has caused them the past two times, and Alessandra in that life must be how I’m connected to Veronique now. “I’m fine,” I say. “Just a little dizzy.”
“Are you still getting headaches?” Concern flashes across her face. “From the accident last week?”
I realize I don’t want her to know what I’ve been feeling and seeing. Janine’s right—as long as she thinks I don’t have a clue, it’s probably safer. “Sometimes,” I say. “The bump only just went away.” Knowing Griffon is
