The Hourglass Door, Page 7

  “It was a working breakfast,” Dante said smoothly, not looking at me. “Abby was helping me with the rehearsal schedule for the play.”

  “That’s right,” Jason said coolly. “I’d forgotten you were in the play. I haven’t seen you at rehearsal the last couple of days.”

  “‘I wasted time, and now doth time waste me,’” Dante said with a rueful grin. “You see, Abby, I have been studying.”

  I grinned. “Hamlet, no less. Good. You’ll need it to charm your way back into Dave’s good graces. He was set on cutting you from the play when you didn’t show up Monday. Don’t worry,” I said as Dante frowned, “I talked him into giving you an extension. You’re coming today, right?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Good. We’re moving into Act Two and then jumping ahead to the scene at the masquerade ball. It’s one of the best parts with Benedick and Beatrice.”

  “I told Abby she should have gotten the part of Beatrice,” Jason interjected, draping his arm around my shoulders. “Dave was a fool to give it to Cassie.”

  “Cassie read the part better than I did,” I said, not particularly eager to relive my failed audition in front of Dante.

  “Yeah, but your middle name is Beatrice—Abigail Beatrice—”

  “Jason!” I hissed, cutting a glance at Dante. “Don’t.”

  “Abigail Beatrice,” Dante mused. “One who gives joy. One who brings joy.” He nodded slowly, the small smile curving his lips. “You are doubly blessed, then, to bear such a name.”

  I blushed.

  The bell rang; Dante nodded to me and Jason and then slipped away in the crowds flowing down the hallway.

  I pushed back my chair, but Jason gripped my wrist.

  “I thought we’d agreed not to date other people.”

  Blinking, I frowned. “I’m not.” Technically, Jason had made that decision, but I knew now wasn’t the time to split hairs.

  Jason glanced down the hallway.

  “I’m certainly not dating Dante, if that’s what you’re thinking. We had one breakfast on one Saturday.” My tone was sharper than I’d intended but I didn’t apologize for it. My skin still tingled from the brush of Dante’s fingertips.

  “I don’t want you seeing him.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Seriously, Jas, jealousy doesn’t become you.”

  “I’m not jealous,” he said stiffly. “It’s just . . . I’ve been hearing things about him and I don’t think you should be alone with him.”

  “Have you been talking to Melissa Cooper too?” The pressure inside me that I had thought was gone flared up, and I felt the knot tightening around my heart again. “Valerie already told me all the rumors about him and frankly, I don’t believe a word of it. Dante’s been nothing but nice to me and I can’t see him being a danger to anyone.” I stood up, slinging my backpack over my shoulder. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m late for English.”

  Jason had the decency to look sheepish. “Abby—”

  “I’ll see you later, okay?” I walked away without looking back.

  ~

  As my English teacher droned on about the proper use of a semicolon in a sentence, I felt my attention drifting, floating away as effortlessly as the snow falling outside the second-story window. Usually English was my favorite class, but today I couldn’t seem to concentrate on anything for more than a few moments. One thought had lodged in my mind like a stone in a river, and everything else circled around it like a whirlpool:

  The sound of Dante’s low voice, Meet me.

  Dante said he knew what I was going through. Did he mean that he knew about the pressure I was feeling? The stress that kept me tied up in a knot? How could he? I hadn’t seen him since Saturday.

  My thoughts turned to lunch. He had apologized for being careless—that didn’t make any sense at all. He hadn’t done anything wrong. The only weird thing that had happened was that bizarre shift in time I’d experienced when I got home from breakfast. But that couldn’t be his fault. I’d just misread the clock, that was all. It had all been in my imagination. It was still all in my imagination. It had to be. There was no other explanation for those strange white flashes, unless—

  I felt the latent panic stirring and quickly averted that train of thought. I didn’t want to be crazy.

  He had promised he would make things right. I rubbed the back of my hand where he had touched me at lunch. I remembered the sensation of a soft breeze, a cool shower, and the instant lessening of the pressure behind my eyes, inside my heart. It’d been the first time all week I’d felt like myself. I wanted to feel that again. I needed to. I couldn’t go on living with this monster suffocating me from the inside. Another day of it and I feared I’d crack under the pressure.

  And Dante had said he could make things right.

  But that meant meeting him in the parking lot before rehearsal like he asked me to. Did I dare go alone? I’d meant what I said about wanting to be friends with him. There was something interesting and mysterious about Dante Alexander from Italy.

  Valerie had told me he was dangerous, but that was wild gossip. Jason had told me he was dangerous, but he was jealous. I couldn’t deny that strange things seemed to happen to me when he was around, but did that mean I was in danger? Maybe it was something else. I remembered our flirtatious breakfast, the look in Dante’s eye whenever he saw me, the small smile on his lips whenever he said my name. I bit my lower lip. Maybe the only danger was to my heart.

  I heard again the sound of Dante’s low voice, Meet me.

  He had said he knew what I was going through . . .

  After an eternity, the bell rang, releasing me from class but not from my endlessly circling thoughts.

  ~

  I peeked around the corner. School had ended almost an hour ago and only a few scattered cars remained in the parking lot. Dante stood alone by the north edge of the lot, his hands buried deep in his pockets, his coat unbuttoned and open to the cold. He stood straight and still despite the brisk wind that ruffled his dark hair and the snow that settled on his shoulders. He might have been carved from stone for all that the elements affected him. I’d been watching him for almost ten minutes and he hadn’t moved so much as a foot the entire time. The groups of people who walked past him parted and flowed around him like water around a rock, like he wasn’t there at all. I was reminded of pictures I’d seen of ancient Egyptian ruins—the tall, dark obelisks frozen in time while all around them the world crumbled to dust.

  I shivered in the chill wind and tried to rub some warmth into my arms. I’d left my coat and my backpack in the auditorium, thinking I would just quickly meet Dante to thank him for his offer of help but assure him that, really, I was fine, and then make it back to rehearsal before anyone noticed I was gone. But now that I was here, I couldn’t seem to make myself take those few steps to him. I was afraid Dante would see right through my lies; I was more afraid that he wouldn’t.

  C’mon, Abby, if you’re going to go, go! He’s right there.

  But I didn’t move. I didn’t know what to do. I tried Jason’s counting trick, hoping it would ease my nerves.

  You should go, I told myself. I rubbed at my forehead where my headache pounded like a hammer on the inside of my skull, making it hard to think. If he can help, you have to go.

  I saw Jason and Robert exit the school’s workshop that stood behind Dante and head for the main school building. Rehearsal would be starting in just a few minutes and I couldn’t afford to be late again. Jason buckled his tool belt around his hips. He laughed at something Robert said, their breath steaming in the cold air.

  As I watched them walk across the lot, I could almost hear Jason’s voice urging me to follow the schedule, to go to rehearsal, to do the right thing and avoid contact with someone I barely knew, someone potentially dangerous. Stupid Melissa Cooper, I thought. Spreading stupid rumors.

  I took a deep breath and set my jaw. The old Abby wouldn’t have stood around, listening to rumors and dithering
and moaning about what to do.

  Jason and Robert gave a wide berth around Dante; I wasn’t sure they even saw him standing there. The door closed behind them, and then it was just me and Dante left in the parking lot. It was now or never.

  Quickly, I darted across the parking lot and walked right up to him before my courage deserted me.

  “Hi,” I said breathlessly.

  A smile crossed his face and a beautiful clear light sparked in his eyes. “Hello, Abby. I’m glad you came.”

  “Sorry I’m late.” I brushed snow out of my hair and folded my arms against my chest, my teeth chattering.

  “You’re cold.” Dante shrugged out of his coat and wrapped it around my shoulders.

  “I’m okay,” I said, though I slipped my arms into the long sleeves. His coat was already warm from his body heat and the wool carried that unique musky-sweet scent I had already come to associate with him. Pulling the coat around me felt like a hug. Inexplicably, I felt tears prickling in the corners of my eyes. Just being around him made the tight bands of pressure around my heart loosen. I drew in a deep breath, relishing the feeling of sharp, cold air flowing all the way to the bottom of my lungs.

  “I have something for you. Will you walk with me?” He gestured with his hand.

  I looked up at him, the snow frosting his dark lashes, and felt my heart constrict again, but this time with something soft and warm. I nodded and walked with him to the far corner of the lot where his car was parked.

  “Nice ride.” I whistled. Even under a thick coat of snow, the sleek lines of a vintage Mustang were obvious. I’d spent enough time with Jason to appreciate the beauty of a classic car.

  “I borrowed it from Leo. He’s out of town and doesn’t know.” Dante held a finger up to his lips. “Don’t tell him, all right?”

  “Thief,” I accused with a smile.

  “Once upon a time,” he said, a strange melancholy in his voice. Quickly brushing the snow away from the car, he unlocked the trunk and grabbed a black bag. “This is for you.” Opening the bag, he pulled out a small box wrapped in gold foil with a red ribbon tied in a bow across the top.

  “Godiva chocolates?” I grinned. “My favorite. What’s the occasion?”

  “I wanted to thank you for the extra time you’ve spent with me. For helping me with the play and . . . and for being my friend. You have no idea how much you’ve helped me over these last few days. And I wanted to apologize for the extra stress I caused you. I know the pressure you’ve been under since Saturday.”

  I shrugged. “It’s not been so bad.”

  “If I’m a thief, then you’re a liar.” Dante took the box from me and untied the bow. “Here. Close your eyes.”

  Obediently I closed my eyes.

  “Keep them closed.” Dante stepped close to me. I could feel the heat from his body and I wondered how he could be so warm standing in the snow when I was the one wearing a coat.

  He pressed the edge of a chocolate to my lips and I opened my mouth. Sweet, dark chocolate with a hint of pineapple melted on my tongue.

  I felt his hand gently cup my cheek, the leather of his gloves slick and cold against my skin, but when his bare fingertips touched me they were warm and soft.

  “I promised I would make things right, Abby.”

  I heard him take a deep breath and then release it slowly, whispering a string of Italian words into the wind.

  For a flickering moment of time, the wind that had been swirling snow around us cut off into nothing. In its place, I heard what sounded like the echo of water rushing past in the distance.

  “Keep your eyes closed,” Dante said again, his voice strained.

  I squeezed my eyes shut tighter, acutely aware of the taste of pineapple and chocolate coating my tongue. Stars sparkled in the darkness behind my eyes. The pressure I had been living with all week returned in full force, its edges as hard as rock, as sharp as glass. I couldn’t breathe.

  I opened my mouth to gasp in a last breath when the pressure suddenly disappeared like a popped balloon. I felt the tension drain out of my body, flowing away from me in waves. In its place was a sweeping feeling of openness and light, of wind and sky. My mind was clear, razor-sharp. I felt wonderful.

  Dante’s voice came to me from a million miles away, “Open your eyes.”

  I did and saw Dante’s quicksilver gray eyes looking back at me with a mixture of fear and hope. “How do you feel?” he asked quietly.

  “Better,” I said, surprised at the truth. The ache in my head, my bones, my whole body was gone. I felt unaccountably happy. I hadn’t realized how dark my life had become until all the shadows had been burned away.

  “Chocolate can have that effect,” he said, handing me the box again.

  My mouth twisted in a half-smile. “I guess I hadn’t realized how much stress I was under. Can I tell you something and you promise you won’t laugh?”

  Dante nodded.

  “I thought I was going crazy.”

  “I know how you feel.”

  And somehow I knew that he did. Buoyed up by my good mood, I impulsively took the step that separated us and hugged him tightly. “Thank you,” I whispered into his chest. “Thank you for keeping your promise.” Hot tears of relief and gratitude left tracks of fire on my cold cheeks.

  I felt a jolt of surprise run through him, but after a moment, he wrapped his arms around my shoulders. I felt his hands on my back, gently soothing.

  “Abby, no, non piangere,” he murmured. “Don’t cry.”

  He held me until my tears stopped. “I’m sorry. I’m not usually like this.” I gulped down a lungful of icy air and attempted a laugh. “Natalie’s the one who usually gives out random hugs.” I wiped my eyes and shyly stepped out of his embrace, my heartbeat surprisingly swift. “So where have you been the last couple of days?”

  “I had some personal business to attend to—”

  “Abby? There you are.”

  I whirled around to see Jason standing behind us, darkness clouding his eyes. I hoped his face was red from the cold wind, but when his eyes never once flicked to Dante, I knew I was wrong.

  “Dave asked me to find out if you were ‘at all willing to come to rehearsal today, because if not, he’ll need to find another assistant director.’ His words.”

  “No, no, I’m coming.” I turned to Dante. “Thanks again for the chocolates. And for everything. You’re coming to rehearsal, right?”

  Dante nodded. “I’ll be there.”

  “Okay, I’ll see you inside.” As I trotted across the snow to Jason, I tucked the box of chocolates into my coat pocket. Jason grabbed hold of my hand, shooting a dark look back at Dante, and we headed for the school.

  “It’s not like you to forget your coat,” Jason said quietly.

  “What? Oh,” I stammered, realizing too late that I was still wearing Dante’s coat. “It was cold, and Dante was just being nice.”

  Jason tightened his grip on my hand. “And the hug? Were you just being nice back?”

  My temper flared a little, burning away my good mood. I shook my hand free of Jason’s. “Yes, actually, I was. Being nice is what friends do.”

  Jason stopped in the snow and looked at me for a long moment, an unreadable expression on his face. “Maybe someday you’ll be that nice to me.” He turned and walked into the school.

  “Jason!” I called, but he didn’t turn around. I balled up my hand into a fist. What was wrong with me? I hadn’t meant to make him unhappy or upset.

  As soon as I entered the auditorium, Jason saw me and turned away. I started to follow him, but he disappeared backstage and out of sight. Dave called my name and waved me over. I sighed. I’d have to apologize later. If he’d let me.

  I took off Dante’s coat and laid it on one of the chairs. I transferred the chocolates to my backpack. A few minutes later, I saw Dante slip through the door, and he gave me a quick wave before he took his place on stage.

  I slouched in my seat, my notebook open on
my lap, but I wasn’t taking notes on the play. Instead I was doodling random designs in the margins and thinking. Without a doubt the last few days had been some of the strangest I’d experienced. In fact, ever since Dante had walked into the auditorium last Thursday, my life had felt a little off-kilter, a step behind everyone else’s.

  I watched Dante walk across the stage, following his blocking for the play. He scratched at his neck with one gloved hand. What is the deal with those gloves? I wondered. He wore them all the time, but he didn’t seem comfortable with them on, like they didn’t fit. I wondered why he didn’t just take them off. Maybe he was covering a rash, or a birthmark.

  Or maybe he wears them for protection, I thought absently. Like motorcycle gloves. Protection from what, though? I thought of how careful he was not to touch anyone. I remembered how, on Saturday, he’d almost touched me at Helen’s Café, but then hadn’t. Could that be it?No. He carried me to the car that same day, I argued with myself, and he touched me at lunch today. And just now, in the parking lot.

  But that brought up another question: Why had he apologized for carrying me to the car? He’d made it sound like he’d done something wrong. Of course, that was silly. He hadn’t wanted me to ruin my slippers in the snow, that was all.

  I doodled a pair of fuzzy bunny slippers in my notebook. I remembered how I’d felt that strange sense of time slowing down when he’d held me in his arms. It had been the same feeling I’d had when I’d gotten home after breakfast—of time being out of whack—but it was then that time had seemed to snap back into place for me. And after that, the horrible white flashes of the future had started.

  Idly I wrote down white flashes in the middle of my paper. On the left side I jotted down a short list—the befores: Dante carried me to the car; weird thing with time; breakfast at Helen’s; breakfast at home. I tapped the pen against my lip, wondering where my wandering thoughts were taking me. On the right side of my paper I wrote another short list—the afters: glimpses of the future; horrible pressure; Dante’s touch at lunch; chocolates in the parking lot.

  Since our meeting in the parking lot, the tight pressure that had been lodged in my heart all week had been exorcised completely. And somehow I knew the white flashes were gone and wouldn’t be coming back.