With the drawing to focus on, it was easier to tune out the wide-eyed looks and muted whispers of the students entering the room. But when the girl from the movies came in, the part of my brain that never stopped monitoring what was going on around me noticed, and I looked up. She didn’t see me, and I turned back at the bowl of fruit and tried to concentrate on my drawing. But I did note her last name when Ms. Scofield called the roll: Himura.
The class got to work, and Ms. Scofield weaved among the easels, offering critique and guidance. The girl from the movies sat opposite the semicircle from me, so every time I looked from my easel to the bowl, she was there behind it. A flash of dark and shine as she pushed her hair back from her neck. Her bright pink sweater like the sway of a matador’s cape as she leaned over for a better view of the bowl. It was impossible for me not to keep glancing at her. But that was one of those normal things I never did that Danny could, right? Notice a girl?
She looked up and caught me watching her. She raised a couple of fingers in greeting before returning to her drawing.
She remembered me. People didn’t usually do that. I’d spent years learning how to perfectly blend in to my surroundings and be forgotten, but she remembered.
After class Nicholas was waiting to escort me to lunch. California kids don’t eat lunch inside a big cafeteria like we did when I was in school in Canada. The weather is so perpetually perfect that students at Calabasas eat outside at tables spread across a grassy courtyard. Nicholas and I bought slices of pizza and sodas, and I followed him to a table that was obviously his regular spot. His shoulders seemed even tighter than usual, and I wondered if it was all the people looking at us. Looking at me.
“So,” he said after a minute of silence. “How was class?”
“Good, I guess,” I said. “How was yours?”
“Fine.”
We went back to silently picking at our food. Maybe I wasn’t making as much progress with him as I thought. Not for the first time, I wondered if it was me he was reacting to this way or if it was Danny. In all the home movies and pictures I’d looked at with Lex, Nicholas seemed to always stand a little apart from the rest of the family. Danny gravitated more toward his much older half siblings than the brother who was just a year older than he was. Maybe he and Nicholas had never gotten along. Maybe Nicholas was still dealing with his guilt over that.
I scanned the tables for the movie girl. Instead, my eye caught Dr. Singh standing under an awning, her arms crossed over her chest as she watched me. She smiled, nodding her head across the distance between us, and I smiled back to show her how fine I was and how much she didn’t need to speak with me. She turned away to talk to a teacher standing near her. When I spotted the girl from the movies, she was sitting at a table by herself near the east wing of the school. I wondered where her friends were, if she had any. She was reading a book and picking French fries off the tray in front of her, managing not to look lonely even though she was alone. A pretty impressive trick it had taken me years to master.
A movement in my peripheral vision caught my attention, and I turned. A giant blond kid with a smile as wide as his broad shoulders was sneaking up on Nicholas from behind. When our eyes met, he grinned and held a finger to his lips. Nicholas took a swig from his soda bottle as the other boy jumped forward, jamming his fingers into Nicholas’s ribs. He cackled as Nicholas went into a full body spasm.
“You asshole!” Nicholas said, slapping his hands away.
“Sorry!” the other boy said with no sincerity whatsoever. He sat down beside Nicholas and laid his fingers against his neck, drawing him in for a brief kiss on the lips. “I couldn’t resist. It’s your fault for being so ticklish.”
“I nearly choked to death,” Nicholas said, and I couldn’t tell if he was amused or annoyed. “At least wait until I’m not drinking next time, you dick.”
“Hey, you must be Danny,” the other boy said, unfazed. He held out a hand to me. “I’m Asher.”
“My boyfriend,” Nicholas added.
Keen observer of human nature that I am, I’d gathered that much. I shook Asher’s hand reluctantly, half-afraid he’d crush mine. “Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you, too,” he said. “Nicky won’t introduce me to any of his family. He’s ashamed of me.”
“It’s not you I’m ashamed of,” Nicholas said.
“Nice talk in front of your brother,” Asher said, kneading Nicholas’s tight shoulder with one hand. They were an odd pair. Nicholas was dark and thin, with delicate features that were dominated by his black-rimmed glasses. A complicated sort of handsome that matched his personality. He was the negative image of Asher, who was light and tan and built like a truck with a quick, ready smile.
Nicholas glanced at me. “No offense, Danny. But I don’t always get along with the family.”
Asher said, “Well, just a few months now and—” Nicholas shot him a look. “Uh, I mean, how’s your first day back been, Danny?”
Well. That was interesting. I filed it away for later.
“It’s been okay,” I said.
“Must be pretty intense,” Asher continued. “Especially since you don’t remember anything, right?”
Nicholas stood abruptly. “I’m going to get an ice cream. Anyone want anything?”
Asher and I both shook our heads, and Nicholas walked back toward the building.
“Don’t mind him,” Asher said when he was gone. “He’s been moodier than usual lately. I don’t think he’s figured out how to deal with all of this yet, but he’s really happy you’re home.”
“He hides it pretty well,” I said.
“No kidding,” Asher said. “But, honestly, he cried like a baby when you were found. You know Nicky. The more that’s going on, the quieter and snippier he gets.”
“Then he must be overjoyed that I’m back.”
Asher laughed. “It’s a compliment, trust me.” He glanced around us and said, “Dude, everyone is staring at you. How weird is that?”
I rubbed a hand across my forehead. “Pretty weird.”
“Do you want them to stop?” he asked.
“That would be great, but—”
Asher stood up. He was well over six feet tall and almost half as wide. So when he bellowed, “Mind your own fucking business!” people took notice. All the heads that had been swiveled in our direction snapped back around instantly.
It was effective, if less subtle than I might have hoped.
“Um, thanks,” I said.
He smiled. “You bet.”
? ? ?
Lex was all over me when I got home. She ushered me into the kitchen where, to my surprise, Patrick was waiting, drinking a cup of coffee.
“So how did it go?” she asked. “Was it overwhelming? I knew it was too soon for this.”
“Let him get a word out, Lexi,” Patrick said.
“It was fine,” I said. Patrick moved his briefcase off the stool beside him and I sat down. Lex started to clean. “I mostly just sat there and listened.”
“How did people treat you?” she asked.
“A lot of stares, but no one really—”
“They were staring at you?” She threw the decorative dish towel she was trying to use to wipe down the kitchen counter into the sink. “You’re not going back.”
“It’s okay,” I said. “It’ll be okay.”
But Lex was shaking her head. “No. No. I don’t like this.”
“Lex—” Patrick started.