Eternity (v5)

I made it into Miss Taunton’s classroom just before the bel finished ringing. Weaving down the crowded aisle to my seat in the back, I tried to ignore the hateful stares of my classmates. In fact, I tried so hard to ignore them that I tripped on a foot that had been outstretched for that very purpose. I pretended not to hear to delighted giggles—among them, Miss Taunton’s—as I picked myself off the floor and dusted off my pants.

Settling into my seat, I rifled through my bag for the paper due on Edith Wharton. The text icon on my cel flashed, a rarity. With my hands stil in my bag, I clicked on it. To my surprise, it was from Ruth. Are u ok? she asked.

That text was the first time she’d communicated with me since the night of the dance. Immediately, I texted back. Fine. Used to it. Thx for asking.

Want to meet for coffee after school? she responded.

I raced to answer her. Yes! Just yesterday, if she’d asked me to coffee, I wouldn’t have cared. The darkness’s hold had been that firm. But now that a sliver of light had poked through the clouds, I felt excitement at reconnecting with Ruth. Plus, I had another reason to be thril ed: I had my way to meet Michael.

I negotiated with my mom for a limited—very limited—exemption from my grounding, a negotiation that required I pass my cel to Ruth for her confirmation that we would be making a quick stop for coffee and that she’d bring me directly home. On the car ride to the Daily Grind, we didn’t broach the rift between us. Instead, we talked about our classes and the heaping piles of homework. I waited until we sat side by side in our two favorite club chairs, with steaming coffees in our hands.

“Ruth, I’m real y sorry about ruining the dance for you and Jamie.”

“It’s al right, El ie. I was furious when it first happened. I mean, I knew that you hadn’t actual y set up that Facebook page. I knew that Piper and Missy must have done that. But why on earth did you race up to that stage and take credit for such a hateful thing? It seemed so pointless and . . .

out of character. And, of course, it total y ruined our night. But I’m not mad about it anymore. I haven’t been mad about that for a while.”

I didn’t want to ask the logical next question, but I had no choice. “What have you been mad about?”

“The way you’ve changed.”

“What do you mean?” Again, the question had to be asked.

“Since the night of the dance, you’ve become distant and cold. You’ve been walking around like you’re in a different world. I understand that you had to put up some kind of barrier to deal with the anger of the other kids, but with me? Especial y when I tried so hard to break through to you.”

Now that perplexed me. I knew that I hadn’t much cared about anyone but Michael, but I honestly didn’t recal any special efforts on Ruth’s part to break through my barrier. “I’m sorry, Ruth. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You real y don’t remember me trying to talk to you after English? Or walking with you to the school assembly?” She sounded baffled.

I shook my head; I had no recol ection of such things. Then, for the first time since al the madness, I touched her hand. In a rush, I watched the past few weeks through Ruth’s eyes. I witnessed my rejection of her overtures, felt the sadness and loneliness that overcame her with each rebuffed approach, and experienced her nightly tears. I could tel that there was more, but Ruth quickly withdrew her hand.

I started sobbing. “Ruth, I am so sorry. I—”

She interrupted with a hug. “El ie, I know you’re going through something difficult, something obviously I can’t understand. Let’s talk about it when you’ve calmed down, okay?”

Squeezing me tighter, she said excitedly, “Can I tel you al about me and Jamie instead?”

We spent the next half hour chatting like nothing bad had transpired between us. I heard al about her budding romance, and I loved watching the happiness in her face. It made me wish that I was normal, that Michael and I could hang out with my best friend and her new boyfriend like ordinary teenagers.

Ruth glanced at her watch and jumped up. She’d made plans to meet Jamie at the library, but would drive me home first.

“Ruth, I have a favor to ask, but I’m hesitant after everything I’ve put you through.”

“El ie, you are stil my closest friend. I’l always be happy to help you. You know that.”

“It wil require that you disobey my mom’s specific request to bring me home after coffee.”

“Al right,” she said hesitantly.

“Would you mind dropping me at Ransom Beach when we leave? And not tel ing my parents if it ever comes up?”

Chapter Thirty

Ransom Beach looked more isolated and less welcoming than I remembered. The craggy cliffs seemed to drop more precipitously into the white-capped ocean, and there was not a soul in sight, it being late fal . From the inside of the car, Ruth and I could tel that the beach was colder and windier than town. We could even hear the loud cry of the seagul s through the closed car windows, and they sounded lonely, rather than the normal friendly harbinger of summer. The whole scenario made Ruth visibly uncomfortable.

“What are you guys doing out here?” she asked skeptical y.

“We just like to walk along the beach,” I lied. I felt a little bad about it, but being with Michael was more important than not tel ing a white lie.

“In this weather?” Ruth wasn’t buying it.

Before answering, I hung my head down. I didn’t think I could tel her yet another lie while looking her in the face. “It’s the one place we can real y be alone to talk.”