In All of Infinity (6 page)

“Do you often ignore people, or is that a
new hobby?” he asked and slightly scooted his plate away. He rested
his head on his hand, and put his arm on the space he’d made by
moving the plate. He wanted her to speak, and realized that being
annoying usually got everyone talking. “I have several hobbies.
Talking is one of them, unless you haven’t noticed. My name’s Isaac
Partridge, by the way.”

“Partridge? What kind of name is that?”

“At least I have a name.”

She bookmarked her place and put the book
beside her on the table, then looked at him with a grimace on her
face. He noticed her gaze was focused over his head and he turned
to see the Brevard twins coming towards him.

“Isaac!”

He smiled but he wasn’t feeling happy to see
them; perturbed was more the word. He stood up and waited for one
to sit beside him, and then the other sat beside the new girl. With
a smile, he realized they were all acquainted.

Isaac sat down and looked from one Brevard
to the next, realizing the one sitting beside him was Demi. She
wore glasses while Danielle didn’t. She hardly read anything except
assignments while Demi could delve into any and all material with
ease. He had seen her go from reading a comic book to classic
masterpieces in the span of an hour. In his mind’s eye, he could
see her in a library, surrounded by books, and feel perfectly
happy. Danielle was a different story. She could talk for hours on
end and hated silence.

“So, glad to see that you have met Reverie
without us having to introduce you,” Danielle said and smiled.

He looked at Reverie, his dark eyes staring
into her blue, and raised an eyebrow. “Reverie?” he teased. “What
kind of name is that?”

She shrugged and looked at her food, then
looked at him and shrugged again, “A name and nothing more.”

“While a rose is but a flower, and a
heartbeat is but a sign of life,” he said and blinked at his own
choice of words.

Reverie stood, took her food that had hardly
been touched, and shouldered her bag. “I’ll see you later, ladies.
I have to get ready for my next class.”

Isaac watched her go, knowing it would be a
bad idea to follow her. He couldn’t understand what was taking
place in his own heart, nor could he explain it to anyone else. As
he began wondering if she felt the same, she looked over her
shoulder at him and smiled with her eyes. He thought about her
name, and realized all that she had in common with Penelope was
that both of their first names contained the same amount of vowels.
Penelope was a nightmare; Reverie was a dream come true.

***

Reverie Reagan sat in the back for most of
her classes, quiet and attentive. She had plenty on her mind, but
she couldn’t seem to get to them past the fog that was Isaac
Partridge, the only boy who seemed the slightest bit interested in
her. She had never been interested in anyone with light brown hair,
even when she was crushing on Hollywood men. She liked them with
dark hair and blue eyes and a considerable amount of maturity, but
Isaac possessed none of these qualities. He had a boyish charm, as
if he were going to pull a frog from his pocket any second, but
that was far from what she wanted. She desired someone who was like
her father.

The last class that she had for the day,
science, ended at 3:30 with her wishing she had eaten more of her
food. She was starving. As she walked across the campus lawn, the
cool wind of August drifting all about her, she found herself
thinking of her mom. She had never met her, but knew that she had
died this month…the month of her birth. The first day hadn’t been
as bad as she’d thought it would be, especially with the clothes
that she had to wear. She couldn’t wait to go home and change her
clothes.

Reverie heard laughter and looked up
briefly, spotting Isaac and his team standing beside a burgundy
Mercedes Benz roadster. He was at the passenger’s side, his hands
in his pockets, and his legs crossed casually at the ankle. The
wind was tossing his hair slightly and he laughed when a bang
tumbled into his eye. She realized she should turn before he looked
in her direction, but it was too late. He looked at her, smiled
brightly, and all she could manage was a raised eyebrow. There were
more pressing things to do today than smile at strangers.

She had told the Brevard twins that he was a
stranger, she remembered, but they had merely giggled. There was no
doubt in her mind that they both idolized him, and there were
hardly any students who didn’t. Reverie heard good news about him
no matter where she was, no matter who she spoke to. Isaac was
perfect, often raised to a height she couldn’t believe anyone could
be at, and that was why she detested him. If there was any form of
magic being used, it was brought on by his smile and demeanor. He
could get along with everyone because of it. She wasn’t about to
fall into his trap.

When at last she was safely on the sidewalk,
she pulled out the book she’d been trying to read at lunch from the
bottom of the stack she was holding. It was a rather large pile,
with five books, two notebooks, and her assignments. She had been
the only one in her class to take notes, but that was due partly in
fact to the fact they didn’t care.

As she opened the book, she began thinking
what Isaac had said to her. So what if she liked animals? It wasn’t
as if she were the only one in the world who did. As for watching
movies, she had seen plenty and was currently hiding a secret crush
for Clark Gable from her father. Was it that obvious? She didn’t
like the Tarzan comment either. She talked when she needed to, and
babbling wasn’t something she ever planned to master. Isaac could
talk all he wanted, but she wasn’t going to listen to him.

Reverie hadn’t walked far when she heard a
car come up beside her. She paused with the book in her hands,
clenching her teeth, and stared along the sidewalk. She knew who it
was without having to look, and wished he would leave her alone. If
there was anything that she detested about the day, it was ever
having met Isaac Partridge. Of course, she hadn’t been the one
who’d walked into his life; he’d walked into hers.

“Reading
again
?”

Reverie ignored him and continued walking,
but he drove along slowly beside her. She began whispering the
passage in the book about the black bear, knowing she would have to
read it later to understand it. She could sense evil thoughts
trying to sneak into her head and, try as though she might, she
couldn’t get them to stop forming. She wanted to leap at him, tell
him to leave her alone, but she remained calm.

“Where do you live? I’ll give you a ride.
That stack looks very heavy,” he said with laughter in his voice.
“Are you the doctor’s daughter?”

Reverie looked at him and her arms suddenly
gave out, causing her to drop everything she was holding. As she
got down on her knees to gather everything, she heard him get out
of his car, slam the door, and rush over to help her. She rolled
her eyes at his laughter, wishing he would stop making fun of
her.

“I don’t need your help,” she said and
swatted at his hand when he tried to pick up one of her notebooks.
“If I did, I would ask for it.”

She looked up at him as he bent over his
knees, looking down at her, smiling. For a second, time seemed to
stand still, and then it shattered and punctured Reverie’s very
nerves.

“I don’t need your help,” she quietly
repeated and began putting everything into the stack. She paused
when she realized he wasn’t saying anything. “I’m sorry if that
offends you.”

“Why do you think that offends me? It’s not
like you’re my girl,” he said sincerely.

He shoved his hands into his pockets and
walked away. When he got back in the car, Reverie stood and looked
at him, at the solemn expression on his face, and realized that he
was hurt. He started his car, ignoring her completely, and gulped
sharply. She wanted to say that she was sorry but the words died in
her heart. Instead, she watched him drive away, wondering if she
had been completely wrong about him.

***

When Reverie at last arrived home, she
stopped in the yard and looked at the house. She had been living
here her entire life, but she was always mesmerized by it. The
architecture was completely different from the way the buildings on
campus looked. When she had first seen the schoolhouse, she had
decided then and there that, if the place was modern, she
wasn’t.

Reverie found the key under the doormat and
went inside. Walking over to the living room to put down her books,
she realized how quite it was. Since the man of the house wasn’t
due back for a few hours, she knew she had the place to herself.
She wasn’t going to stay inside, though. Where her father was prone
to sitting still for hours on end, she always had the urge to move.
She took hold of the animal book and headed for the door.

“Glad to see that you’re home early.”

She froze with her back to the staircase and
hand on the doorknob. The voice wasn’t masculine in the slightest,
but feminine with an accent that emanated class and authority.
Reverie had met her only a few times, but Virginia de Marlowe was
pompous and cruel. She wasn’t only cruel to people, mind, but
animals as well. Every outfit she wore seemed to be cut from an
animal’s hide, and she knew how badly Reverie detested her.

“Virginia,” the young animal activist said
and turned, a forced smile on her face. “How did you ever get
in?”

The older woman examined the younger, taking
in every curve of her young body with her feline green eyes.
Everything about Virginia spoke strictness of bearing: her fair
hair pulled into a tight ball; her clothes without wrinkles; her
makeup without a single smudge; and even the way her smooth hand
pet the fur of her white mink coat. She was elegance, Emmanuel
claimed, and the kind of woman he wished Reverie would become. The
phrase his daughter had written in her diary was along the lines
of, ‘I’d rather stop breathing than become anything like her.’

“We both know your father, darling,” she
said, accentuating each syllable of the title. “He is oblivious of
others actions and obvious with his own. Where else would a
simpleminded man place it?”

Reverie felt rage growing in the pit of her
stomach, thinking how wrong Virginia was about her father. He was
not naïve in the slightest, merely disconnected sometimes from
someone’s true intentions. Not always, mind, but there were moments
when she knew he didn’t understand others. He knew her well enough,
but he couldn’t comprehend the meaning behind the actions of the
Marlowe’s of the world.

“I’m not going to stay long,” Virginia said
at last, standing only inches from Reverie. The height difference
between them could be seen in that instant: Virginia, who stood
5’3, was staring up at Reverie, who stood 5’7. “I need you to give
this to him. Do you think you can do that?”

Reverie looked at the piece of paper held
between two pale fingers whose nails were painted in deep red,
tried to keep from vomiting because of Virginia’s perfume. She
didn’t ask what the paper was for and merely nodded. How hard was
it to deliver a message to her father? Couldn’t Virginia have found
the time out of her busy life to drop by the hospital instead of
coming to the house that was further away from her own place? If
that was being complex, Reverie knew she would rather stay
simpleminded, especially since it took a shorter amount of time. Of
course, knowing Virginia, she was probably planning something
rather inappropriate that couldn’t be displayed in a public
place.

“Good day,” Reverie said and took the piece
of paper.

Virginia’s eyes roved over the younger
girl’s body, remembering how she had been a late bloomer, and
envied the doctor’s daughter for developing so swiftly. She didn’t
appreciate having such a figure. There was something tomboyish
about Reverie, almost as if she would rather roam around in the
woods, collect fallen leaves in her hair, and crawl around in the
dirt to pet the smallest animal. She was probably just like her
father, always thinking there was something more to life than what
was revealed, as if earth were a mystery. Still, she was fourteen,
and her body was as voluptuous as Virginia’s (if not more so), and
that was enough for spitefulness to strike at the older woman’s
core.

Reverie walked outside and stood on the
front porch, wondering why she hadn’t realized Virginia’s car
parked in the front. She was like her father in that respect: able
to get lost in thought and make the world disappear. Although she
knew she had to work on this, her main concern at the moment was
having her father place the key somewhere else. She didn’t want to
see Virginia roaming around in their home, the very smell of her
seeping into the furniture and decimating beauty with her
touch.

After Virginia left, Reverie decided that
her venture into the woods would have to wait. She took the key and
placed it on top of the doorframe, stretching to her tiptoes as she
did. Since she was taller than Virginia, the place would prove best
for now.

As Reverie stood looking up at the frame,
she began wondering how many men she knew who were shorter than she
was. Father Brevard, standing a measly 5’6, often looked at her and
laughed, remembering when she was ‘knee high to a grasshopper.’ She
couldn’t help being taller than most, but her father was the same,
which accounted for her height. Today she had stood beside a
wiseacre in science class with large glasses; a bulky football
player in math; and Isaac who was, luckily enough, taller than she
was. She didn’t feel like a freak when she stood beside him. Was
that why she’d remembered his name?