Miss Castle’s shallow breathing.
“This is inappropriate,” she whispered.
“According to what laws?” Jake’s voice was low and confident.
“The school’s for one. You’re my student!”
Jake gave a low chuckle. “I’m all grown up — old enough to make my own decisions.”
“But what if we’re caught? I’ll lose my job, I’ll never be able to work as a teacher again, I’ll…” I heard her sharp intake of breath as Jake pressed a finger against her lips and then slid it teasingly down till it rested in the hollow of her throat.
“We can be discreet.”
Just as he leaned toward her and Miss Castle closed her eyes, there was a loud bang from behind me, followed by a stream of cursing. Ben Carter had just arrived and accidently jammed his bag in the door. Jake sprang up from the desk with a feline grace while a flustered Miss Castle shuffled papers and tried to smooth her hair.
“Hi,” Ben grunted as he pushed past me to his seat, oblivious of the exchange he had just interrupted. He threw himself into his chair and scowled at the clock. “I’m not even late.”
I took a seat behind Ben as other students began to file into the classroom and stared studiously at my desk. Someone had scratched into the desktop, “English Is Death. Death Is Crap.” I didn’t want to look at Jake; I was shocked by what I’d seen. I knew I had no right to be. Jake was eighteen, he was entitled to make a play for whoever he liked. But Miss Castle was a teacher; surely she deserved more respect. I shook my head resolutely; it was absolutely none of my business.
I should have known he wouldn’t let me get away with ignoring him. He slid into the seat beside me.
“Hello,” he said, his voice slick as oil. His eyes were even more captivating than his voice. When I looked into them, it was hard to look away.
Things were starting to change at Bryce Hamilton. It was hard to pinpoint exactly what had changed or when, but the school felt different. There was cohesion where there had only been disparity when we first arrived. Involvement in school activities had never been so popular, and judging by some of the posters that had appeared around the place, there was a new awareness of global issues. I could claim no credit for these improvements; I’d been far too preoccupied with fitting in and getting to know Xavier to have given much thought to anything else. I knew the change was due entirely to the influence of Gabriel and Ivy.
From the outset, people in Venus Cove recognized Ivy’s commitment to helping others. Although she didn’t attend the school, she was busy gathering support for various causes from animal welfare to environmental issues. She campaigned for these in her usual soft-spoken manner — she didn’t need to be loud to get her point across. Bryce Hamilton had asked her to speak at assemblies to inform the students of upcoming charity drives and fund- raisers being held in town. If there was a cake drive, car wash, or Miss Venus Cove competition to raise money for a good cause, Ivy was usually behind it. She seemed to have created an entire social service program within the town, and a small but growing number of volunteers opted to help out on Wednesday afternoons. The school had even introduced a volunteer program as an alternative to afternoon sports. This involved helping out at local charity groups, shopping for elderly members of the community, or working at the soup kitchen in Port Circe. Some people, admittedly, feigned interest as an excuse to get closer to Ivy, but most were genuinely inspired by her dedication.
However, with only two weeks left until the senior prom, all social service projects were temporarily abandoned. The mood of the girls at school was bordering on obsessive. It was hard to believe the time had passed so quickly. It seemed like only yesterday that Molly had circled the date in my planner and berated me for my lack of enthusiasm. To my surprise, I now found myself as eager as everyone else for the big night to arrive. I clapped and squealed along with the rest of the girls whenever the subject came up and didn’t care how puerile it looked.
On Friday I met Molly and the girls out front after school for our long-anticipated shopping trip to Port Circe. Port Circe was a large town just a half-hour train ride south. With a population of some two hundred thousand, it was significantly larger than Venus Cove, and many of the people living in our sleepy town commuted there daily for work, while the teenagers went there to shop or to sneak into nightclubs using their fake IDs.
Gabriel had handed me a credit card along with instructions to be sensible and a reminder of the irrelevance of material goods. He knew how dangerous it was to let a pack of teenage girls loose with a credit card, but he had nothing to worry about; my chances of finding something I liked were slim. I was particular when it came to clothing and I had a very clear picture of how I imagined myself looking on the night of the prom. I had set my standards rather high. Just for that night, I really wanted to look as well as feel like an angel on earth.
I was nervous as we headed down the main street toward the station. This would be my first experience on public transportation. Much as I was looking forward to it, I couldn’t help feeling a little apprehensive. When we got there, I followed the others through an underpass and up onto an old-fashioned platform. We lined up at the booth and bought tickets from a gruff man with gray whiskers behind the window. He shook his head at the racket the girls were making, and I gave him an apologetic smile as I tucked my ticket safely into my wallet.
We moved to sit on the wooden benches lining the platform and waited for the four-fifteen express to arrive. The girls continued to talk over one another and typed text messages at lightning speed, arranging to meet up with boys from Saint Dominic’s school in Port Circe. Molly announced she was thirsty and bought a can of diet soda from a vending machine. As for me, I was relaxed and comfortable until the arrival of the train sent me into shock.
It started out as nothing more than a rumble in the distance, like a peal of thunder. But it grew steadily louder, and soon the platform was vibrating beneath my feet. From out of nowhere the train came barreling down the tracks, at such a speed, I wondered how the driver would manage to stop. I jumped up and pressed my back against the wall of the waiting bay as the train cars, which looked poorly secured, clattered noisily to a halt. The girls stared at me.
“What are you doing?” Taylah asked, looking around self-consciously to make sure nobody had witnessed my display.
I eyed the train suspiciously. “Is it supposed to make that noise?”
The metal doors opened and people spilled out in a wave. I watched one set of doors snap shut again, catching the hem of a man’s overcoat. I gasped and the girls howled with laughter. The man banged angrily on the train doors until they sprang open again. He stalked off, throwing us a livid look as he passed.
“Oh, Beth,” Molly sputtered, clutching her abdomen as she shook with laughter, “you’d think you’ve never seen a train before.”
The heavy row of interlinked metal boxes looked to me more like a weapon of mass destruction than any form of reliable transportation.
“It doesn’t look all that safe,” I said.
“Don’t be a baby!” Molly grabbed my wrist and hauled me toward an open door. “We’re going to miss it!”
Inside the train wasn’t so bad. Molly and her friends threw themselves down on a row of seats, ignoring the irritated glances they received from passengers whose space they had invaded. As we rattled toward Port Circe I sat perched on the edge of my seat and watched the people around me. I was surprised at the array of characters that mass transit attracted, from executives in business suits to sweaty schoolkids to an elderly bag lady wearing fur-lined moccasins. I wasn’t very comfortable being surrounded by all those people and nearly being jolted from my seat each time the train jerked to a stop, but I told myself I ought to be grateful for every human experience I could get. All too soon it would come to an end.
When we reached our stop, we joined the crowd pushing their way off the train and into the main square of Port Circe. It was certainly a far cry from sleepy Venus Cove. The streets were wide, rectangular, and tree lined. Church spires and skyscrapers were silhouetted against the horizon. Molly insisted we weave our way across the congested roads rather than waste time finding the crosswalks. There were shoppers everywhere. We passed a homeless man with a white beard sitting on the cathedral steps; the wrinkles around his droopy eyes were as deep as crevices. He’d draped a gray army blanket over his shoulders and was banging a tin cup. I dug in my pocket for some change, but Molly stopped me.
“You can’t just go up to strangers like that,” she said. “It’s not safe. He’s probably a drug addict or something.”
“Does he look like a drug addict?” I objected.
Molly shrugged and walked ahead, but I turned back to press a ten-dollar bill into the man’s hand. He gripped my arm. “God bless you,” he said. When he looked right past me, I realized that he was blind.
