Eyes Unveiled Page 5

  Riley set his arms next to mine on the rail. “He sounds like a wise guy.”

  “He was.” The wooden plank scratched into my palms, the sense of loss cutting deeper. “A natural dreamer too. You would’ve liked him. You share a similar passion. I can tell. It’s part of what makes your gift so unique.”

  The creek’s current engulfed the rocks the same way Riley’s songs had consumed my heart. “You’re probably connecting with more people than you realize. There’s something about music. Even if you’re not aware of what you’re missing, you walk away after hearing it, knowing—”

  “You can’t live without it.”

  “Exactly.” I turned and met a gaze locked on mine, as if he hadn’t looked away the entire time I was talking. He held that same expression from the first day I saw him—torn between surprise and fear of finding something he’d lost.

  “The way you understand things, it’s . . . refreshing,” he said.

  The sincerity teeming in his eyes turned my throat dry. The bridge’s hazy blue lights lit up an exit route. If only my feet moved as fast as I rambled.

  On the other side of the bridge, we stopped along the edge of the empty sports field. Sunlight glistened across the freshly mowed lawn and landed in a splash of warmth that trickled down my entire body and washed away any trace of unease. “Wow, guess I don’t usually come to this part of campus when practices aren’t going on. It’s sort of serene, isn’t it?”

  I slid out of my flip-flops and sank my heels into the cool earth. “When I was a kid, I practically lived in my backyard. Spent hours chasing shapes in the clouds.” Blades of grass wove through my toes with each step toward the center of the field. It might not have been as unique as the creek bed, but the field and its bordering fir trees held their own distinct tranquility.

  “Do you mind if we sit for a while?” I spun around.

  Riley stood back on the sidewalk, staring with enough enamor to be admiring an intricate painting.

  I peered behind me and back again. “What?”

  Glimpses of a hidden expression followed him across the grass and stretched into a pause filling the time it took him to lift his head toward mine. “Sorry. The beauty of artistry still catches me by surprise sometimes.”

  You and me both. I sat down before my knees buckled and tried to shift my focus to the beauty around us instead of on the artistry lying right beside me on the grass. Sunrays sifted through the clouds. “I haven’t done this in ages.”

  “What, no cloud chasing in between aerobics classes?”

  “Ha. It might be a better workout. You know how many times I ran in and out of my house to get my dad?” A burst of sunlight warmed my face but didn’t reach the ache inside that never really left. “The shapes were always gone by the time I rushed him out to the deck to show him. He said it was because the clouds had made that shape just for me. Like I was something special.” I knotted my fingers through the top of the grass on either side of me. “Sad part is, I believed him.”

  “Some things are easier to see from the outside looking in.” Riley slipped his hand behind his head and studied me instead of the clouds.

  Two dragonflies zipped past us, my pulse chasing after their erratic flight. How was I supposed to ignore this attraction when he kept looking at me like that? I balled the hem of my shorts in my fists. If I could harness my nervous energy to my hands, maybe I could short circuit the electricity surging through me.

  Not even close.

  “Do you ever wish you could go back to that time in life when everything was so much less complicated?” he asked.

  His arm brushed mine as he rolled onto his side. His torso cast a wide enough shadow to shield the sun’s glare from my eyes, but I bolted face forward.

  “It’s ironic,” he said. “As kids, we couldn’t grow up fast enough. So sure some great thing was waiting for us.” Another note of sadness—or regret, maybe.

  Summoning any molecule of courage I had left, I angled toward him.

  He twisted a small twig between his fingers and tossed it onto the field. “But somewhere along the way, we stopped chasing the future and started wishing we could postpone it.”

  I thought I was the only one who felt that way. He could’ve been reading straight from my journal. It didn’t make sense. He was the last person I’d expect to understand. How could someone so talented be anxious about the future? He had a world of opportunity at his feet. He’d already discovered what made him somebody. Somebody with value, promise. Didn’t he see how people were drawn to him? Even now, I couldn’t turn away, every feature tantalizing.

  The cool, moist earth soaked into my skin through my T-shirt. I grabbed the backs of my legs, towed myself up, and settled my chin on top of my knees.

  “Guess we always want what we can’t have—the never-ending merry-go-round of discontentment—wishing we were either in the past or future. It’s kind of sad, actually. Sometimes I wonder if we realize what we’re forfeiting by not living in the present.”

  Riley sat up, his attention never leaving me. “Maybe we’ve just been waiting to find the right reason to live in the present.”

  A damp breeze—and something far more penetrating—shivered down my arms.

  “Getting cold?”

  “A little,” I admitted.

  “We should probably get you back to the exciting world of international business anyway.”

  “Ugh, don’t remind me.” Why didn’t I ignore the chill in the wind?

  Riley leaped to his feet and reached to help me to mine. Clasping his hands, I hopped up too quickly and nearly toppled into him. The whiskers on his chin grazed my forehead. He placed a stabilizing hand to my waist. Warmth crawled up my back. For a second, I pulled even closer. His lips sprawled into a grin, and I clutched his shirt for balance.

  “You all right?” he asked.

  Back up, Em. At least let go of his arms, for heaven’s sake. Arms. Maybe not as bulky as A. J.’s or Trevor’s, but full of enough strength and tenderness to place his upper body into a whole other category. One I had to escape, and fast, before I looked as star struck as Miss Too-Tanned-Brunette from Nuts and Jolts had. His smile wasn’t exactly helping my sudden case of vertigo.

  I tried out my feet and took a spacious step backward. “Yeah, sorry.” Sliding my arms through my wrinkled jacket sleeves, I ambled over to my flip-flops and the chance to regain any measure of sensibility.

  Some chance. Halfway along our stroll back, the desire to spend the rest of the day with him turned the sidewalk into wet cement, each step harder to make.

  Stop swooning. Guarding my heart from him might not be the easiest goal I’d ever tackled, but I could handle being his friend. Like I’d told Austin, I wasn’t the same naïve girl I used to be.

  “Which apartment do you live in?” I asked.

  “Actually, I live off campus, about fifteen minutes away off Holgate Boulevard. I do most of my classes online.”

  No wonder I’d never seen him before. I crisscrossed the sides of my jacket over my stomach. “Will you be playing at Nuts and Jolts again soon?”

  “Nah, probably not. I don’t really perform very often.”

  I felt like a runaway train, each of his answers derailing my attempt to find potential ways to bump into him again. I stalled in front of my apartment building. The last stop before my impending collision into Patheticville. Then again, pretty sure I’d already crashed into that station back on the field. Doubted there was any recovering.

  “Thanks, Emma,” he said slowly.

  “For what?”

  He rubbed his jawbone. “For starters, for spending part of your afternoon with me. Hope it was more exciting than leg lifts.”

  I tucked my arms under one another and dished his crooked grin back at him. “I don’t know. That’s some pretty tough competition to beat.”

  He laughed. “Maybe you can give me a second chance. I ran into Trevor earlier today. He invited me to hang out with you guys tomorrow night
.”

  He did, did he? “Tomorrow it is.”

  “Great. I’ll see you then.” Riley lingered a minute longer in a half turn, something unspoken pulling him in two directions, but then started toward the Sports Center, where he’d left his car. “Oh, and Emma,” he called up the walkway. “Don’t worry about Professor Roberts’ test. It’ll be easier than you think.”

  Certainly easier than other challenges. I strolled to the door, lost in thought until I remembered. Trevor.

  The front door welcomed me with scents of percolated coffee—a trademark of Jaycee’s presence. Cozied up on the sage microfiber slipcover she bought for the abused couch the previous tenants had left behind, she rested her mug on a stack of library books. “Hey.”

  “Doing research?”

  “What gave it away?” She glared at the looming pile beside her. “I’m drowning in theories on childhood development.”

  “You were made to be a teacher, Jae. Just think how your studies will impact all those kiddos you’ll be teaching.”

  She sighed. “You’re right. It’ll be worth it.”

  I opened and closed every kitchen cabinet door in search of something to calm those dragonfly wings still fluttering inside my stomach. “So,” I called into the living room, “you’ll never guess who I ran into today.”

  “Are you serious? I’m gonna kill Trev. I told him to leave it alone. Em, I’m sorry.”

  I poked my head around the partition wall separating the kitchen and living room. “Don’t worry about it.” I twisted the drawstring at the bottom of my jacket. “It was kinda nice, actually.”

  She scooted back the books that were about to fall and stared at me. “Nice?”

  “Well, other than the fact that he came to see me after aerobics, of all things. Nothing quite like the sweaty, hair-slicked-back, old-ratty-T-shirt-and-mesh-shorts look to really make a lasting impression.”

  Jaycee clasped her forehead. “Did he run away in horror?”

  I nabbed the accent pillow from the chair closest to me and hurled it at her. “Funny.”

  “You’re not supposed to be falling for him, remember?”

  “I’m not.” But after today . . .

  “So, what does it matter what you looked like? Keep your head in the game, girl.”

  I slumped into the chair, my heart following. She was right. I should be focusing on keeping my scholarship, not traipsing around the campus with Riley Preston. That reminded me. “Hey, do you know a girl named Miriam? Short. Asian. Kind of shy.”

  “Miriam Chen? Yeah, she helps me tutor at Duniway Elementary.”

  “Tutor? Wait, isn’t she a business major?”

  “Yeah, but she volunteers with all kinds of things. She’s a sweetheart. Soft spoken. Bright girl. Just a little unsure of herself. I think it might be because of money issues. Her parents are missionaries.”

  Great. I’m up against Mother Teresa. Fabulous.

  Jaycee traded her pencil for her coffee mug. “Why? You know her?”

  “Not exactly.” I swiped a plum from the wire fruit bowl on the kitchen table and picked off the little produce sticker. “I think Mr. Oakly’s pitting her against me for my scholarship.”

  A splash from Jaycee’s mug ran down her hand. “What?”

  “Don’t say anything to her, okay? I’ve got it under control.” I hoped. I tossed the plum between my hands over the silent warnings blaring from Jaycee’s expression. Better change the subject. “What fun exploit does Trevor have planned for us tomorrow?”

  “I’m not sure. He said we’re meeting up earlier than usual. Oh, and he said to wear comfy shoes.”

  No telling what that meant, but Trevor’s suspense would have to wait. I exchanged my workout clothes for my black fleece pants, my light gray college hoodie, and a pair of plush striped socks that never matched anything. Grabbing a cup of chai, I hit my mattress and my schoolwork. Back to reality.

  My international business textbook’s binding dug into my thighs. I wedged a pillow underneath it, set my mug on top, and breathed in the invigorating aroma of Indian spices. Maybe the steam could pass for some sort of head-clearing humidifier.

  “Trade doesn’t only refer to business transacted within an individual country. Sometimes there’s a convergence that causes a conflict of interest for different stakeholders.” I reread the second half of the sentence and shook my head. Ain’t that the truth. Question was, which stakeholder would win?

  The longer I stared at the page, the more my walk with Riley replayed over top of the words I was supposed to be reading. “Maybe we’ve just been waiting to find the right reason to live in the present.” The right reason. He’d said it with such conviction, like he knew exactly what he wanted. Maybe even had found it. I’d spent so long chasing the future, I’d forgotten how to crave the present, forgotten the things I’d forfeited.

  The passion Riley carried tore at the edges of a hole in my chest. The one I’d spent years numbing. I chucked my pillow on the floor and let the hardbound book burrow into my legs. If nothing else, pain would help me focus.

  My cell phone screen lit up my hunter green sheets with an incoming call. “Mom, sorry I haven’t called you back. It’s been a bit of a hectic week. . . . Mom? Is everything okay?”

  Something pulsed through the phone line in the absence of Mom’s response. Something far too familiar.

  Fear.

  chapter six

  Competition

  Gone. What little money I had saved. Gone. Just like that. The repercussions of Mom’s call last night kept my stomach in a vice grip all morning.

  Glimpses of the late afternoon sunshine snuck through the venetian blinds and stretched across the living room carpet. How long had I been staring at the computer? I peeled my leg off the kitchen chair, shook out the pins and needles, and glared at the clock on my laptop.

  Seriously? I pushed back from the table. The bottom of my chair voiced the shriek trapped in the center of my chest. With my scribbled notes in hand, I paced across the linoleum.

  Okay, my living expenses ate up my loan refund, so I couldn’t use that for tuition if I lost my scholarship. Work-study positions were already filled for the term, but it wouldn’t hurt to check on a waiting list. Not having a car made an off-campus job more challenging, especially since I was already going to have to bum rides to my internship. And could I really fit in a part-time job on top of that without sacrificing my grades? I smacked the paper to my forehead. There’s gotta be an answer. Think!

  Jaycee stopped short on her way from the kitchen to the bedroom. “You okay?”

  You mean aside from the bombshell Mom dropped on me last night? Yeah, super. The tail end of my silent retort seeped out in a sigh. It wasn’t Jaycee’s fault that the employees at Dad’s life insurance company were being a bunch of schmucks or that the bank had drained our joint account to cover Mom’s overdrawn balance.

  I probably shouldn’t mention the call. It’d end up sparking another round of the same circular questions I’d been wrestling all day. What if this unpaid internship was a mistake? What if Mr. Oakly gave my scholarship to Miriam, and I couldn’t afford to come back next term?

  Downing the rest of my tea, I swallowed the gnawing frustration of not having any answers and let Mom’s response repeat in my head like some sort of anti-virus software purging an intruder. “Emma, honey, don’t worry. It’s going to work out. I’ll fix this, I promise.”

  “I’m fine, Jae. Everything’s fine.”

  Hands on her hips, she lowered her chin. “Fine enough to come tonight? I can always get A. J. to keep Trev from coming up here to drag you out.”

  Trevor’s mysterious Friday night outing. I almost forgot. After the way Jae’d lit into him for sending Riley to find me at aerobics, the last thing I wanted was to cause another issue. Better to go along tonight, channel Trev’s carefree outlook so Jae wouldn’t worry.

  “Yep, it’ll be fun.”

  In the bathroom, I tucked my necklace underne
ath my long sleeved turquoise tee, hidden along with my concerns about my finances. At least for now. Maybe getting out would give me the recharge I needed to sort through this mess.

  “You ready, Jae?” I called on my way past the bedroom.

  “On your six.” She locked up behind us, jogged down the stairs, and hopped off the last step.

  I held the door open and tipped my head toward her bright pink New Balances. “Look at you, styling.”

  She shrugged. “Trev said to wear comfy shoes. That doesn’t mean they can’t be cute.”

  Ashlea and Becky climbed into A. J.’s Acura at the same time Jae and I reached the curb. A. J. revved his engine.

  “You got nothin’ on me, bro,” Trevor shouted back.

  I opened the door to his Outlander. “And so the competition begins.”

  From inside, Riley offered a hand to help me into the backseat—the seat he was going to be sharing. With me.

  I shot Jaycee a help me plea, but what could she do? If Riley and I didn’t ride with them, it meant riding in his car. Alone.

  “How’d that test go?” he asked.

  “She aced it,” Jaycee said from up front.

  I pulled my seatbelt out. “You were right. It was as easy as you said it would be.”

  “Or you’re as smart as you are modest.”

  It didn’t make sense for his voice to sound that familiar, that assuring. Or for his confidence to overflow until it became my own. My shoulders sank a little deeper into the seat, pressures from the scholarship ordeal deflating with an exhale.

  Maybe I should listen to Austin. Live in the present, have a social life, enjoy my college experience. The friend part of it anyway. At least for a night. “Trev, you gonna share whatever exciting adventure you have planned, or what?”

  One hand on the wheel, Trevor withdrew a piece of paper from his coat pocket. “Wait for it . . .” Building suspense, he shook out the folded creases and flashed a florescent orange flyer at us with dramatic flair.

  “The Labyrinth Trail,” I read.