Halo

10 Rebel

Ignoring Xavier’s invitation proved easier than I expected when he wasn’t at school the whole of the following week. After making a few discreet inquiries, I discovered that he was away at rowing camp. With the danger of running into him averted, I felt more relaxed. I wasn’t sure I’d have the courage to renege on the date if he were standing right in front of me, nutmeg hair fringing those limpid blue eyes. In fact, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to say anything much at all given my past attempts at conversation.

At lunchtime I sat with Molly and her friends in the quadrangle, listening halfheartedly to their litany of complaints about school, boys, and parents. Their conversations mostly followed a set pattern, and I felt I already knew the lines by heart. Today the prom was the subject of discussion — no surprise there.

“Oh my God, there’s so much to think about,” Molly said, stretching out on the asphalt like a cat. Her friends were scattered around her, some on the garden benches, their skirts hitched up to maximize the impact of the early spring sun. I sat cross-legged beside Molly, tugging at my skirt so that it modestly covered my knees.

“Oh my God, I know!” agreed Megan Judd. She repositioned her head in Hayley’s lap and pulled her top up so that her midriff was exposed to sunlight. “Last night I started making a to-do list.” Still on her back she flipped open her school planner, emblazoned with designer labels that she’d stuck on for decoration. “Get this,” she continued, reading from a dog-eared page. “Book French manicure. Look for sexy shoes. Buy clutch. Decide on jewelry. Find celebrity hairstyle to copy. Decide between Hawaiian Sunset and Champagne spray tan. Book limo. The list goes on. ..”

“You forgot the most important thing — find dress,” said Hayley.

The others laughed at the omission.

It baffled me that they could discuss in such detail an event that was so far away, but I refrained from commenting. I doubted my input would be appreciated.

“It’s going to cost so much.” Taylah sighed. “I’m going to end up blowing my budget and spending every dollar I’ve made working at that crappy bakery.”

“I’m cashed up,” Molly said proudly. “I’ve been saving from working at the drugstore since last year.”

“My parents are paying for everything,” bragged Megan. “They’ve agreed to pay for the whole thing as long as I pass all my exams — even a party bus if we want one.”

The girls were clearly impressed.

“Whatever you do, don’t screw up any exams,” Molly said.

“Hey, she’s not a miracle worker.” Hayley laughed.

“Does anyone have a date yet?” someone else asked.

A few of the girls did, and those in steady relationships didn’t have to worry about it. Everybody else was still desperately waiting for someone to ask them.

“I wonder if Gabriel will go,” Molly mused, turning to me. “All the teachers get invited.”

“I’m not sure,” I said. “He tends to steer clear of those sorts of things.”

“You should ask Ryan,” Hayley suggested to Molly, “before he’s taken.”

“Yeah, the good ones always go first,” Taylah agreed.

Molly looked affronted. “It’s the formal, Haylz,” she said. “The guy has to do the asking.”

Taylah snorted. “Good luck with that.”

“Molly, you’re so stupid sometimes,” Hayley sighed. “Ryan’s six-two, built, blond, and plays lacrosse. He might not be the sharpest tool in the shed, but still, what are you waiting for?”

“I want him to ask me,” Molly pouted.

“Maybe he’s shy,” Megan suggested.

“Uh, have you seen him?” Taylah rolled her eyes. “I doubt he has self-esteem issues.”

A debate about floor-length gowns versus cocktail dresses followed. The conversation became so banal that I needed an escape. I mumbled something about going to the library to check if a book had come in.

“Ewww, Bethie, only losers hang out in the library,” Taylah said. “Someone might see you.”

“And we already have to spend fifth period there to finish that stupid research assignment,” Megan moaned.

“What was that about again?” Hayley asked. “Something to do with politics in the Middle East?”

“Where is the Middle East?” asked a girl named Zoe, who always wore her blond hair piled on top of her head like a crown.

“It’s a whole area near the Persian Gulf,” I said. “It spans southwest Asia.”

“I don’t think so, Bethie.” Taylah laughed. “Everybody knows the Middle East is in Africa.”

I wished I could seek out Ivy’s company, but she was busy working in town. She had joined the church group and was already recruiting members. She had made badges promoting fair trade and printed pamphlets that preached about the injustice of working conditions in the Third World. Given her goddess status within Venus Cove, the numbers at the church group were growing. The young males in the town had taken to seeking her out and buying far more badges than anyone could use in the hope of being rewarded with her phone number or even just an appreciative pat on the head. Ivy had made it her mission to play Mother Earth at Venus Cove — she wanted to bring people back to nature. I guess you could call it an environmentalist mentality — organic food, community spirit, and the power of the natural world over material things.

So I headed in the direction of the music wing instead, in search of Gabriel.

The music wing was in the oldest part of the school. I heard singing coming from the main hall, so I pushed open its heavy paneled doors. The hall was vast with a high ceiling and portraits of grim-faced headmasters lining the walls. Gabriel stood in front of a music stand, conducting the junior choristers. All the choirs had grown in popularity since Gabriel’s arrival; in fact, there were so many new female recruits to the senior choir that they had to rehearse in the auditorium.

Gabriel was teaching the juniors one of his favorite hymns in a four-part harmony, accompanied by the music captain, Lucy McCrae, on the piano. My entrance interrupted the singing. Gabriel turned to determine the source of the distraction, and when he did, the light from the stained-glass window merged with his golden hair so that for a moment he looked ablaze.

I waved to him and listened as the choir resumed their singing.

Here I am, Lord. Is it I, Lord?

I have heard You calling in the night.

I will go, Lord, if You lead me.

I will hold Your people in my heart.

Even with some of the singers out of tune and the accompanist a little loud, the purity of the voices was transporting. I stayed until the bell signaled the end of lunch. By then I felt I’d been given a well-timed reminder of the bigger picture.

The next few days blurred into one another, and before I knew it, it was Friday and the end of another week. The rowers had reportedly gotten back after lunch, but I hadn’t seen any sign of them and decided they must have gone straight home. I wondered whether Xavier had concluded that I’d lost interest as he hadn’t heard from me. Or was he still awaiting my call? It bothered me that he might wait for a call that wasn’t coming. Now I wouldn’t even get the chance to see him and explain.

Packing my schoolbag at the end of the day, I noticed that someone had wedged a little scroll of paper into one of the metal louvers at the top of my locker. It fell to the ground when I opened the door. I picked it up and read the message, written in a loping, boyish hand.

I read it several times. Even via a piece of paper, Xavier managed to have the same dizzying effect on me. I handled the note as delicately as if it were an ancient relic. He wasn’t easily deterred; I liked that about him. So this, I thought, is what it feels like to be pursued. I wanted to leap around in excitement, but I managed to remain calm. Nevertheless, I was still grinning when I met up with Gabriel and Ivy. I couldn’t seem to force my face into a mask of serenity.

“You looked pleased with yourself,” Ivy said when she saw me.

“Good result on a French test,” I lied.

“Did you expect anything else?”

“No, but it’s still nice to see it in black and white.”

I was surprised to find how easily I could lie. I must be getting better at it and that wasn’t a good thing.

Gabriel looked pleased to see my previous mood had lifted. I knew he’d been feeling guilty. He hated to witness distress, much less be the cause of it. I didn’t really blame him for his sternness. It was hardly his fault he couldn’t relate to what I was experiencing. His focus was overseeing our mission, and I couldn’t imagine the strain that must accompany that task. Ivy and I depended on him, and the powers in the Kingdom were relying on his wisdom. It was only natural that he should try to avoid complications, and that’s exactly what he feared contact with Xavier might bring.

The elation of receiving Xavier’s message lasted through the rest of the afternoon and the evening. But by Saturday I was again wrestling with my conscience over what to do about it. I desperately wanted to see Xavier, but I knew it was reckless and selfish. Gabriel and Ivy were my family and they trusted me. I couldn’t willingly do anything that might compromise their position.

Saturday morning was relatively uneventful and made up of chores and taking Phantom for a run along the beach. When I got home and looked at the clock, I saw that it was already mid-afternoon and I started to feel edgy. I managed to hide my agitation through dinner, and afterward Ivy sang to us with her melodic voice, accompanied by Gabriel on an old acoustic guitar. Ivy’s voice could have reduced a hardened criminal to tears. As for Gabriel, every note he played was smooth and hummed like a living thing.

Around eight thirty I went up to my room and pulled everything out of my closet to rearrange it. No matter how hard I tried, thoughts of Xavier pushed themselves into the foreground of my mind with the force of a speeding train. By five minutes to nine, all I could think of was him waiting for me, the minutes ticking by. I visualized the moment when he realized I wasn’t coming. In my mind’s eye I saw him shrug his shoulders, walk out of the cinema, and go on with his life. The pain of this thought proved too much; and before I knew it, I had grabbed my purse, pulled the balcony doors open, and was climbing down the lattice to the garden below. I was overcome by a burning desire to see Xavier, even if I didn’t speak to him.

I stumbled along the dark street, took a left, and kept going, heading straight for the lights of the town. A few people in cars turned to stare at me, a pale, ghostlike girl streaking down the street, hair flying like streamers. I thought I saw Mrs. Henderson peering out through the blinds in her living room, but I hardly gave her a second thought.

It took me about ten minutes to find the Mercury Cinema. I passed a café called the Fat Cat, which seemed to be full of students. Music was pumping from a jukebox and kids were sitting in deep couches, drinking milk shakes or sharing bowls of nachos. Some of them were dancing on the checkered floor. I passed the Terrace, one of the ritzier restaurants in town, set up on the first floor of an old Victorian hotel. The best tables were on the balcony that ran along the front of the building, and I could see candles glinting in their holders. I sped past the new bakery and the general store where I had met Alice and Phantom just weeks earlier. When I reached the Mercury Cinema, I was going at such a speed that I ran straight past it and had to double back when I realized the street had come to an end.

The cinema dated from the 1950s and had recently been redecorated in keeping with the fashion of that time. It was full of retro memorabilia. The floors were polished black-and-white linoleum; there were sofas in burnt orange vinyl with chrome legs and lights like flying saucers. I caught sight of myself in the mirror behind the candy bar. My breathing was ragged from excitement, and I looked flustered from my run.

The foyer was empty when I got there, and no one was milling around the coffee lounge. The movie posters advertised a Hitchcock marathon. It must have already started. Xavier had either gone in alone or gone home.

I heard someone behind me clearing his throat exaggeratedly, the way someone does when trying to get your attention. I turned.

“It’s no longer fashionably late when you miss the movie.” Xavier was wearing his wry smile, navy chino shorts, and a cream polo shirt.

“I can’t make it,” I said between breaths. “I just came to let you know.”

“You didn’t have to run all the way over here to tell me that. You could have called.”

Xavier’s eyes were playful. I struggled to think of a reply that wouldn’t make me look ridiculous. My first impulse was to say I’d lost his number, but I didn’t want to lie to him.

“Since you’re here,” he continued, “how about a coffee?”

“What about the movie?”

“I can see that anytime.”

“All right, but I can’t stay long. No one knows I’m out,” I confessed.

“There’s a place just two blocks down, if you don’t mind walking.”

The café was called Sweethearts. Xavier put his hand between my shoulder blades to steer me inside, and I felt the heat of his palm seep through to my skin. A strange warmth bubbled up inside of me until I realized his hand was directly on the place where my wings were carefully folded. I quickly edged away with a nervous laugh.

“You’re a strange girl,” he said, looking bemused.

I was grateful when he asked for a booth as I wanted privacy from prying eyes. We had attracted a fair bit of attention just walking down the street together. Inside the café were some faces I recognized from school, but I didn’t know the students personally so no acknowledgment was required. I saw Xavier nodding in various directions before we sat down. Were these his friends? I wondered whether our outing would fuel the rumor mill come Monday.

The place was inviting and I started to feel more relaxed. The lighting was low, and the walls were lined with old movie posters. On the table were free postcards advertising the work of local artists. The menu offered a variety of milk shakes, coffees, cakes, and sundaes. A waitress wearing black-and-white sneakers took our order. I ordered a hot chocolate and Xavier asked for a latte. The waitress gave him a flirtatious smile as she scribbled on her pad.

“Hope this place is okay with you,” he said when she’d gone. “I usually come here after training.”

“It’s nice,” I said. “Do you train a lot?”

“Two afternoons and most weekends. What about you? Have you got involved in anything yet?”

“Not yet, I’m still deciding.”

Xavier nodded. “These things take time.” He folded his arms comfortably across his chest and leaned back in his seat. “So, tell me about yourself.”

It was the question I’d been dreading.

“What would you like to know?” I asked cautiously.

“Firstly, why you’ve chosen Venus Cove. It’s not exactly high profile.”

“That’s why,” I said. “Let’s call it a lifestyle decision — we were tired of jet-setting, wanted to settle down somewhere quiet.” I knew this would be an acceptable answer; there was no shortage of families who had relocated for similar reasons. “Now, tell me about yourself.”

I think he knew I was hoping to fend off more questions, but it didn’t matter. Xavier was comfortable talking and didn’t need encouragement. Unlike me, he was forthcoming with personal information. He told anecdotes about family members and gave an abridged version of the Woods’s family history.

“I come from a family of six kids and I’m the second eldest. Both parents are doctors, Mom’s a local GP and Dad’s an anesthesiologist. Claire, the eldest, is following in my parents’ footsteps, and she’s in her second year of a med degree. She lives at college but comes home every weekend. She just got engaged to her boyfriend Luke — they’ve been together four years. Then there are three younger sisters — Nicola’s fifteen, Jasmine’s eight, and Madeline’s about to turn six. The youngest is Michael and he’s four. Bored yet?”

“No, it’s fascinating. Please go on,” I urged. I found the details of a normal, human family intriguing and was thirsty to hear more. Was I envious of his life? I wondered.

“Well, I’ve been at Bryce Hamilton since kindergarten because my mom insisted I go to a Christian school. She’s a conservative — been with my dad since they were fifteen. Can you believe that? They’ve practically grown up together.”

“They must have a very strong relationship.”

“They’ve had their ups and downs, but nothing’s ever happened that they haven’t been able to deal with.”

“Sounds like a close family.”

“Yeah, we are, although Mom can be a little overprotective.”

I imagined Xavier’s parents having high aspirations for their eldest boy.

“Will you pursue medicine as well?”

“Probably.” He shrugged.

“You don’t sound too excited about it.”

“Well, I was interested in design for a while but that was, let’s say, discouraged.”

“Why’s that?”

“Isn’t considered a serious career, is it? The idea of having invested all this money into my education only to have it end in unemployment doesn’t thrill my parents.”

“What about what you want?”

“Sometimes parents know best.”

He seemed to accept the decisions made by his parents with good grace, happy to be guided by their expectations. His life was pretty much mapped out for him, and I imagined that any diversion from the set course wouldn’t be looked upon kindly. I could relate to him in that way — my human experience came with strict boundaries and guidelines and straying from the path was out of the question. Lucky for Xavier, his mistakes wouldn’t incur the wrath of Heaven. Instead they would be chalked up to experience.

Halfway through our drinks Xavier decided we needed “a sugar hit” and ordered chocolate cake, which arrived as a slab layered with whipped cream and berries on a large white plate with two long spoons. Despite being urged to “go for it,” I scooped daintily around the edges. When we’d finished, Xavier insisted on paying the check and looked offended when I tried to offer my share. He waved my hand away and dropped a bill into a tip jar labeled GOOD KARMA before we left.

It was only once we were outside that I realized the time.

“I know, it’s late,” Xavier said, reading my face. “But how about a short walk? I’m not ready to take you home yet.”

“I’m already in serious trouble.”

“In that case ten minutes more can’t hurt.”

I knew I should cut the night short; Ivy and Gabriel had surely realized I was gone and would be worried about me. It wasn’t that I didn’t care — I just couldn’t bear to tear myself away from Xavier a moment sooner than I had to. When I was around him, I was filled with an overpowering happiness that made the rest of the world fade away to nothing more than background noise. It was like the two of us were locked in a private bubble that nothing short of an earthquake could burst.

I wanted the night to last forever.

We walked to the end of the strip toward the water. When we got there, we saw a traveling carnival setting up on the boardwalk — a popular activity for families with restless children who needed a change from a winter spent indoors. A Ferris wheel rocked in the wind, and we could see bumper cars scattered around the track. A jumping castle glowed yellow in the twilight.

“Let’s check it out,” said Xavier with childlike enthusiasm.

“I don’t think it’s even open,” I said. “We won’t be able to get in.” There was something about the tired-looking carnival that made me reluctant to explore it further. “Besides, it’s almost dark.”

“Where’s your sense of adventure? We can always jump the fence.”

“I don’t mind a quick look, but I’m not jumping any fences.”

As it turned out there weren’t any fences to jump and we walked straight in. There wasn’t much to see. Some men hauling ropes and driving machinery ignored us. On the steps of a trailer, a tanned woman sat smoking. She wore a colorful dress and jangly bracelets up to her elbows. She had deep creases around her eyes and mouth, and her dark hair was graying at the temples.

“Ah, young love,” she said when she saw us. “Sorry, kids, but we’re closed.”

“Our mistake,” Xavier said politely. “We were just leaving.”

The woman took a long drag of her cigarette. “Like your fortunes read?” she asked in a rasping voice. “Since you’re here.”

“You’re a psychic?” I asked. I didn’t know whether to be skeptical or intrigued. It was true that some humans had a heightened awareness and could experience premonitions of sorts, but that was about the extent of it. Some humans could see spirits or feel their presence, but the term psychic seemed a little presumptuous to me.

“Sure am,” said the woman. “Angela Messenger at your service.” Her name threw me somewhat — that it should be so close to angel was unnerving. “Come on in, no charge,” she added. “Might liven up the evening.”

Inside, the trailer smelled of take-out food. Candles flickered on the table and fringed tapestries hung from the walls. Angela indicated we should sit down.

“You first,” she said to Xavier as she took his hand and began to study it intently. The expression on his face told me he thought the whole thing was a joke. “Well, you have a curved heart line, which means you’re a romantic,” she said. “Short head line means you think directly and don’t beat around the bush. I’m sensing a strong blue energy from you that indicates that heroism is in your blood but also means you are destined to experience great pain, of what sort I can’t be sure. But you should be prepared for it as it’s not far away.”

Xavier tried to look as though he was taking her advice seriously.

“Thank you,” he said. “That was very insightful. Your turn, Beth.”

“No, I’d rather not,” I said.

“The future is not to be feared but confronted,” said Angela. The way she said it was almost a challenge.

I held my hand out reluctantly for her to read. Although her fingers were rough and calloused, her touch was not unpleasant. The moment she stretched out my palm she seemed to stiffen slightly.

“I can see white,” she said, her eyes shut as if in a trance. “I feel an indescribable happiness.” She opened her eyes. “What an amazing aura you have. Let me check your lines. Here we have a strong unbroken heart line, which suggests you will only love once in your lifetime. .. Then let’s see — Good Lord!” She straightened my fingers and pushed them back to stretch out the skin.

“What?” I asked in alarm.

“It’s your life line,” the woman said, her eyes wide with alarm. “I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

“What about my life line?” I asked impatiently.

“My dear”—Angela’s voice dropped to a mere whisper—“you don’t have one.”

We walked back to Xavier’s car in awkward silence.

“Well, that was weird,” he said finally as he opened the door and I climbed in.

“Sure was,” I agreed, trying to sound lighthearted. “But who believes in psychics?”

Xavier’s car suited him perfectly. He drove a sky blue 1957 Chevrolet Bel Air convertible. It had been lovingly restored down to the last detail, and made me feel like we’d traveled back in time. Its headlights gleamed in the darkness and its smooth leather seats were strangely comforting.

“Beth, meet my baby,” he said. “She’s a pretty sweet ride.”

“Hello,” I half raised my hand in an awkward wave and immediately felt like an idiot.

“You do know cars are inanimate objects?” I teased.

“Take it easy,” Xavier said. “You’ll hurt her feelings.”

“I didn’t know cars had feelings.”

“This one does. She’s got a life of her own.” Xavier patted the hood before pulling open my door. “Don’t be jealous of Beth, baby. You can’t be the only woman in my life.”

He switched on the ignition and put the car into gear before turning the dial to a commercial radio station. The dulcet tones of the announcer welcomed listeners to his show, Jazz After Dark. I noticed Xavier’s car had a comforting smell — a combination of leather seats and a crisp woody scent that might have been his cologne.

After riding only briefly in our hybrid Jeep, I wasn’t prepared for the noise of the vintage engine roaring to life and flattened myself against the passenger seat. Xavier glanced across at me with raised eyebrows.

“You all right there?”

“Is this car completely safe?”

“Do you think I’m a bad driver?” He smirked.

“I trust you,” I said. “I’m just not sure about cars.”

“If you’re worried about safety, you might like to follow my example and put on that seat belt.”

“The what?”

Xavier shook his head in disbelief.

“You worry me,” he muttered.

“Are you going to be in trouble?” he asked when we pulled up outside Byron. I saw that the front porch light had been left on so my escape must have been noticed.

“I don’t really care,” I said. “I had fun.”

“So did I.” The moonlight glinted briefly on the cross at his neck.

“Xavier…” I began tentatively. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Well, I’m just wondering… why did you ask me out tonight? It’s just that Molly told me about… well… about…”

“Emily?” Xavier sighed. “What about her?” A defensive note had crept into his voice. “People just can’t leave it alone, can they? That’s the thing about small towns — they get off on gossip.”

I found it difficult to meet his gaze. I felt as if I’d crossed a boundary, but I couldn’t go back.

“She said you’ve never really wanted to spend time with any other girl. So I guess I’m just curious… why me?”

“Emily wasn’t just my girlfriend,” Xavier said. “She was my best friend. We understood each other in a way that’s hard to explain, and I thought I’d never be able to replace her. But then when I met you…” He trailed off.

“Am I like her?” I asked.

Xavier laughed. “No, nothing like her. But I get the same feeling when I’m around you that I used to have with her.”

“What sort of feeling?”

“Sometimes you meet a person and you just click — you’re comfortable with them, like you’ve known them your whole life, and you don’t have to pretend to be anyone or anything.”

“Do you think Emily would mind?” I asked. “That you feel that way with me?”

Xavier smiled. “Wherever she is, Em would want me to be happy.” I knew exactly where she was but thought better about sharing this information with Xavier just then. It was bad enough that I had struggled with the seat belt and my palm was minus a life line. I thought that might be enough surprises for one evening.

We sat in silence for a few minutes, neither of us wanting to break the mood.

“Do you believe in God?” I said eventually.

“You’re the first girl to ask me that,” Xavier said. “Most people think of religion as some kind of fashion statement.”

“So you do?”

“I believe in a higher power, a spiritual energy. I think life’s too complex to be an accident, don’t you agree?”

“Absolutely,” I replied.

I stepped out of Xavier’s car that night with the certainty that the world as I knew it had changed irrevocably. All I could think about as I climbed the steps to the front door was not the lecture that awaited me but how long before I could see him again. There were so many things I wanted to talk to him about.