49
I said, "Something on my shoulder, huh?" Luke smiled and licked his cone. "You wanted saving, didn't you?"
"You can't just go and do that to a girl without warning. It's not fair. I could've fallen down or something."
His voice bordered on smug. "You liked it?"
Cheeks hot, I studied the glistening drops of ice cream forming on the edge of my cone. "What a stupid question."
"I'm new to this. I've never tried exercising this particular repertoire of skills. I'm thrilled that I learned something from watching chick flicks."
I so wanted to believe him, and I so didn't. "You've had girlfriends before."
He shook his head. "No one's ever inspired me to mend my evil ways. May I practice on you?"
It was petty, but I was instantly irritated by the word "practice." I didn't want to be anyone's practice. "No, you may not."
He sighed. "See, you are clever. Very well. Do you mind if I stick around for a while, anyway?
You fascinate me and I want to know why."
"'Fascinate' is a very strong term," I said. "Plants fascinate horticulturists. Stars fascinate astronomers. Bugs fascinate--uh--bugologists. I don't know if I want to be studied. I don't know if I'm worth being studied."
Luke considered. "Well, of course you're worth being studied. You're extraordinary at everything you do. Without any external influence. You're extraordinary at everything you do just because you try to be. No superpowers.
50
Just hard work. It's quite amazing. Oh, I've done it again, haven't I? You're pissed at me again."
I had tried to keep the look off my face, but I couldn't. He was wrong though; I wasn't angry, I was disappointed. For once I didn't want someone to look at everything I could do and be awed. I wanted someone to just see me, what made me me, and be fascinated. I was so tired of hearing how great and amazing I was from people who would never know anything about me. I had let myself believe all this time that the real me was what Luke was flirting with, not the me destined for CD covers and exceptional alumni lists.
"God, you're pissed enough that you're not even talking!" Luke moved closer on the railroad tie to get a better look at my face. "I've really put my foot in it now, haven't I? I don't even know what I said."
My voice was half the strength it was supposed to be, which I hated. How in the world had he reduced me to tears? "I--I'm just so tired of people telling me how talented I am. I'd like to be amazing even if I was the most untalented person in the world. All anybody ever sees when they see me is the stupid harp. They never see who I really am."
Luke reached up a thumb and gently swiped away the single tear that had managed to escape.
"Don't cry, pretty girl. Who you really are is why you're so good at everything. You won't let yourself be otherwise. And that's what fascinates me."
Part of me wanted his hand to linger on my face, but pride and embarrassment made me knock it away. Fragile wasn't an image I liked to wear. "I don't normally cry.
51
I mean, unless I'm frustrated. I feel so--" I struggled for words and for dignity.
He said softly, "Your ice cream's melting."
Relieved, I turned back to my cone. We sat in silence for long moments, finishing our ice cream.
Then I said, without looking at him, "If I still fascinate you, you can study me for a while. But I won't be 'practice.'"
"Thank you." He wrestled his keys from his back pocket and laid them on his leg, swallowing the last of his cone.
Without thinking first, I asked, "Is that a key for every secret?" Immediately I feared I'd violated our unspoken agreement, and that he would vanish in a poof of smoke.
But he didn't seem concerned by the question. Instead, he smiled vaguely and said, "Possibly.
How many keys do you have?" "Two".
"Is that how many secrets you have?"
I thought about it. One for the clover on the bedside stand. One for the way I felt about Luke.
"Yes."
His fingers toyed with his keys. "Would you like another?"
I didn't answer, but I watched him slide a key from his too-full ring. It was a small, heavy, old-fashioned key, with a spot of rust on one side. He glanced around as if someone might care what we were doing, and then pushed the iron key into my hand. Putting his lips right up against my ear, his breath hotter than the summer day, he whispered, "Here is another secret: I have no business being fascinated by you."
52
His lips almost formed into a kiss. Then he pulled away quickly and stood up. I was dizzy and had to close my eyes for a moment to reorient myself. I put the key in my pocket.
Holding out a hand, Luke pulled me to my feet and led me to the other side of the car, his eyes distant and his face preoccupied.
Before he shut the passenger door behind me, I briefly smelled a snatch of herbal fragrance in the summer air, quite apart from Luke's odor or the usual asphalt stench of Dave's parking lot. And then I realized I did have a third secret to go with my key: there was some sort of danger gathering around me. But I wasn't afraid.
***
"Oh, Granna's here." I peered over the dashboard as Luke pulled into the driveway. Her white Ford was so bright in the noon sun that I couldn't look directly at it. "Mom must've invited her over for my birthday."
"Birthday?" Luke switched off the car. "Today?"
"Actually yesterday, but I get cake today." I tried to keep the hopeful edge out of my voice.
"Want to stay for it?"
"Hmm." Luke got out of the car and came around to open my door. "I shouldn't.
