The Islanders (21 page)

M
IDNIGHT

ZOEY WOKE FROM A FITFUL
sleep. The Boston Bruins shirt she slept in had become twisted. She flopped around to straighten it out and by the time she was done, she was wide awake. She got up and went over to the dormered window where she had a built-in desk. On one wall of the dormer were yellow Post-it notes she used to tack up great quotes, things to think about on nights when she couldn't sleep.

Soul meets soul on lovers' lips. —Shelley

She'd found the quote and posted it, thinking of Lucas. But now she found she was remembering Jake, so sad sitting in the dark circle. She had kissed Jake many more times over the years than she had Lucas. She had never felt for Jake the sort of overwhelming feeling she had for Lucas, but she had loved
him nevertheless. And it seemed wrong to now just dismiss him from her mind when he seemed to need help.

Jake had always had an overdeveloped sense of duty. He felt bound by some loyalty to his dead brother. And yet he had always been an emotional guy. When he fell in love, he fell hard. And now he was caught between being loyal to his brother and hopelessly in love with Claire, the girl he blamed for his brother's death.

But how could Zoey help him? How could anyone, really, when the battle was all between Jake and Jake?

12:45 A.M.

Nina got up to pee, cursing the Pepsi she'd drunk before going to bed. The floor was cold under her bare feet, and after getting back to her room, she hopped back into bed and tucked the blankets around her toes.

Then she remembered she'd been dreaming. Not one of the awful dreams about her uncle, fortunately. She'd been dreaming about Benjamin. In her dream he could see. She was reading to him, some long, boring book, and she'd looked up to see him smiling. His sunglasses were on his lap and his eyes were actually focusing on her.
Who are you?
he'd asked.

Nina wasn't sure how she felt about the dream. It was certainly an improvement over her usual dreams, but at the same
time it was slightly disturbing in a way. Benjamin had been asking who she was, like he really didn't recognize her, but at the same time there had been this slight leer in his expression.

It wasn't at all like the way she remembered her uncle looking at her, not really. Still, it had made her feel strange. In the dream and now, remembering it.

The dream obviously had some great metaphorical meaning that she was just too sleepy to make sense of right now. Maybe she'd remember to tell Dr. Kendall next week. Shrinks loved dreams.

She fell back asleep, wondering if it was possible that people met in their dreams, sharing the same dream, or if that was just some dopey romantic idea she'd heard from Zoey.

1:04 A.M.

Jake opened one eye, glued nearly shut by sleep. For a moment, he thought he saw Claire right there in his room. Then he realized it was just a shadow cast on the sheer curtains by the moon. His mouth was parched from the alcohol working its way through his system. He decided to get up and get a drink of water but fell asleep before he could act on the urge.

1:10 A.M.

Lucas drifted through a shockingly explicit dream involving
Zoey, a starlit beach, and slow motion. Several times he moaned in his sleep. Finally the sound of his own voice woke him up. He groaned and tried to go immediately back to sleep, hoping to complete the dream. Instead he drifted into a completely uninteresting dream involving cows.

1:45 A.M.

Benjamin pushed the button on the clock and it spoke the time: “The time is one forty-five
A.M
.” He had been awake, lying in his bed for an hour after waking up from a dream. It was one of the “seeing” dreams he'd had often back in the days after he first lost his sight. This time, in the dream, he'd been dreaming he was blind and when he woke, he was relieved to discover that he could see perfectly well.

Then he'd been on the ferry, on a brilliantly sunny day. Many of the people he knew were there: Zoey, Jake, Claire, Nina. And then in the dream he'd realized that it
was
only a dream. The people he was seeing were all as they'd been when he was much younger. A ten-year-old Zoey, a Jake who was still a boy, a Claire in knee socks.

And then a little girl with braces had come over and taken his hand. She had an unlit Lucky Strike dangling from her lip and was carrying some large, boring-looking book. Nina.

I was just dreaming about you
, she said.

Benjamin lay back in his bed and tried to forget the visual images. They were meaningless, just part of a dream. The real world was darkness.

2:08 A.M.

Claire smiled in her sleep. She was dreaming of a huge storm, rolling right over the top of the widow's walk while she ate peanuts under her rain slicker.

3:00 A.M.

Christopher's alarm went off, and he woke feeling tired and demoralized. His three hours of sleep had been fitful. He shouldn't have asked Zoey to talk to Aisha. That was so high school. Aisha would think he was being a wimp. She'd think he was crawling back to her, looking for forgiveness. Only he wasn't in the wrong here. He wasn't. If anyone should apologize, it was probably Aisha, only he was too damned tired to think of why.

Well, let it go
, he told himself.
Forget about it. Shouldn't have let the girl ruin your sleep.

He sat up in bed and shook his head, trying to clear away the bad feelings. He had work to do, papers to deliver. Couldn't sleep now. Papers to deliver. Like to Aisha's house.

He got up and made a quick cup of coffee.

4:28 A.M.

Aisha drifted through a shockingly explicit dream involving Christopher, an open bedroom window, and slow motion. Several times she moaned in her sleep. Finally the sound of her own voice woke her up. She looked first at the window. No, it was securely locked.

Then she heard what sounded like footsteps on the frosty pine needles outside, a sound like cornflakes crunching. A moment later, a second sound like a bike on gravel. She went back to sleep, annoyed at her subconscious for concocting ridiculous scenarios involving a guy she had already forgotten.

4:50 A.M.

Nina had another dream. Someone was holding her hand. Or, more accurately, several some-ones. One minute it was Benjamin. Then it was her uncle. Then, oddly enough, Zoey. Then it was her shrink, who was attaching electrodes. Nina pulled her hand away and stuck it under her pillow.

 

Once, like years ago when I was only fourteen and hence not responsible for the sheer dorkiness of my actions, I tried to simulate what Benjamin “saw” of me. I got out my tape recorder app and taped myself chattering away in a sort of
Pretty Little Liars
kind of sophisticated conversation, very cool. No, way past cool.

Now, don't laugh too much, because we both know that you've pranced around in front of the mirror making pouting faces and sucking in your stomach and thrusting out your buffers with your hands on your hips, imagining what you look like to some guy. I just had to be more inventive.

Anyway, I played back the recording, while smelling my deodorant, my toothpaste, and my shampoo in a sort of approximation of the input Benjamin got off me.

Okay, maybe that is stranger than pouting in a mirror.

Anyway, I was able to conclude from this experiment that I was probably making a very good impression on Benjamin. Assuming Benjamin liked girls who sounded like Lucy Hale on speed and reeked of Crest Mint Gel.

I don't think at that point that I had really begun to have romantic thoughts about Benjamin. He and Claire were
just moving into total couplehood then, and I still mostly thought of him as Zoey's mysterious big brother.

In fact, I wasn't sure I even liked him until one day when he and I were in the Passmores' living room, waiting for Zoey for some reason or other. I was kind of at a loss for anything to say because what I really wanted to say was
Hey, if you're blind, can you still pee standing up?
Which, even then, seemed like a fairly idiotic question. Anyway, what I ended up doing was blurting out the whole tape recorder and toothpaste story.

He laughed till I thought he was going to collapse a lung.

Then he said, “Thanks, kid. That was the funniest thing I've heard in weeks.”

Not the dumbest thing, or the strangest thing, which is what Claire, or a lot of my friends, would have said. The funniest. He was actually grateful to me for making him laugh.

I've liked Benjamin ever since.

THURSDAY MORNING WAS A COLD
one as Zoey, Nina, and Aisha huddled together on the deck of the ferry. Not Maine-winter cold, which would drive them all belowdecks to the heated comfort zone, but crisp and windy. The water was the color of lead, beneath a sky like the underside of a mattress that stretched from horizon to horizon in unbroken gloom.

Nina was sucking frantically on her unlit cigarette and chattering at a mile a minute. Aisha seemed lost in some private reflection, occasionally smiling dreamily, then scowling as if to compensate. Zoey felt gloomy and distracted, watching Jake hunched forward in one of the last benches, looking sick.

“I don't know,” Nina said. “I mean, how do you decide these things? On the one hand, I want to look all right so that people won't think I'm Benjamin's pity date, like
What's he doing with skank-woman?
But I don't want to suddenly turn into you, Zoey; no offense, but you know what I mean. I can't do the J. Crew,
Miss Perfect Teen, could-be-a-cheerleader-if-I-really-wanted-to, shop at The Gap, honor society with oak leaf clusters, listen to bands where no one has a tattoo, practically-ready-for-VH1 thing.” She sucked on her cigarette and glared at Aisha. “What are you grinning about?”

“Just buy a dress you like,” Zoey suggested. “Benjamin's not a person who is hung up on fashion. He doesn't know what fashion is.”

“A
dress.
Like you're saying it has to be a
dress
?” Nina asked anxiously.

“I'm not saying that, Nina, although I imagine you'll want to wear a dress. You know, it's not quite the prom, but it's like the number-two dance of the year as far as getting dressed up and all.”

“Hey, babe.” Lucas dropped into the bench behind them, leaned forward, and squeezed Zoey's shoulders.

“Where have you been?” Zoey asked. “And by the way, I have to talk to you about something. Later.”

“That doesn't sound good.”

“It's not something we should go into now,” Zoey said quietly but significantly. “All I'm going to say is you have to think about whose side you're on when you're keeping secrets.”

“You mean—” He jerked his head slightly toward Aisha.

“You know what I mean,” Zoey said, nodding discreetly.

“That was a guy thing, Zoey. What was I supposed to do?”

“Can we do this later?” Zoey said.

“What?” Aisha asked, surfacing from her reverie.

“Nothing, Eesh,” Zoey said quickly.

“Lucas, you're a guy,” Nina said, twisting around in her seat. “You think a girl should be herself more, or do you like it when she gets into the whole show-me-off-to-all-your-guy-friends-so-they-can-see-that-you're-like-enough-of-a-stud-to-get-a-babe-to-go-out-with-you thing?”

Lucas stared at her silently for a minute. “Could you repeat the question?”

“Please don't ask her to do that,” Zoey said.

“I don't understand,” Lucas admitted.

“She's asking for advice on what to wear to the home­coming dance,” Zoey translated.

“Clothing advice?” Lucas said, making a face.

“Fortunately, I don't have to worry about what to wear,” Aisha muttered.

“You can come with Benjamin and me,” Nina said, grinning. “If—”

“I know,” Aisha interrupted. “If I'm real quiet, he won't even know I'm there.”

“Don't be doing that, Aisha,” Nina chided. “Don't jump in and steal my punch lines.”

“GOD, I'M COLD,” Zoey suddenly exploded. “Why didn't I wear a coat?”

“Come sit back here with me,” Lucas suggested. “I'll warm you up.”

“See, that's the other thing,” Nina said. “What am I supposed to do, get some dress that shows major cleave and freeze them off?”

“I'm going to tell you what to do,” Zoey said, rubbing her arms with her hands. “Go to the bookstore at the mall. Buy the latest
Seventeen
or
Teen Vogue
and get whatever outfit they have on the cover. Or else some other magazine.”

“Popular Mechanics,”
Lucas suggested.

“It's the day after tomorrow,” Nina said bleakly.

“I wish someone would break my leg between now and then,” Lucas said, falling into the bad mood. “I have to play the dork, and not only that, I have to act like I'm really grateful for the honor.”

“I didn't vote for you for homecoming king, by the way,” Nina said. “I voted for you for queen.”

“Thank you, Nina.”

“Don't pretend you're not looking forward to it, Lucas,” Zoey said, shivering. “I s-s-saw you with K-berger getting all
blushy. You two doing your little slow d-d-dance around the room with the spot-light; you'll probably love it.”

Lucas leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Zoey's shoulders. She gratefully accepted the warmth of his body. “It wasn't K-berger I was dreaming about all last night.”

Aisha looked up sharply, alert again. “What dream?”

“I don't think we want to hear about Lucas's dream,” Zoey said.

“It was a perfectly nice dream,” Lucas protested. “You, me, a starlit night. Very romantic.”

“Romantic?”

“That's right, romantic. I'd even say it was poetic. What's that word? Lyrical. It was lyrical. Warm, gentle breezes, swaying palm trees, soft music.”

“I don't think dreams mean anything, do you?” Aisha asked.

“Sometimes,” Nina said.

Zoey shivered again and tucked her chin down into the neck of her sweater. “I hope I was dressed warmly in this dream.”

“Well, it
was
a warm night,” Lucas said.

“That's what I figured,” Zoey muttered. “Aisha? I have to ask you something I've never asked anyone before in my life.”

“What?”

“Can I stick my hands in your coat pocket?”

Benjamin shared two classes each day with Claire, first and last period. Calculus in the morning, physics at the end of the day. In both classes they still sat near each other, a holdover from the days when they were a couple. They were the most difficult classes for Benjamin since they each involved endless notations on the chalkboard. Their calc teacher was very good about always explaining verbally what she was writing on the board, but the physics teacher, Mr. Aubrey, tended to mumble and become so involved in scribbling that for Benjamin the class was reduced to the sound of chalk on the board.

This was one of those times, and Benjamin wondered, for the twentieth time since the beginning of the school year, if he hadn't gone a step too far, trying to deal with a physics elective.

Thankfully, he had a superb memory, particularly for all things mathematical, and it was something he had learned to develop even further. All of North Harbor, much of downtown Weymouth, the mall, the school, the individual classrooms existed in his head as neat, precise diagrams measured in numbers of steps.

In addition, he cataloged other clues—the direction of the airflow from fans and heaters in various classrooms; the sound of a fluorescent light that buzzed in the cafeteria and told him
whether he was close to the start of the lunch line; even the distinctive breathing of different classmates. For Benjamin, the entire world was a series of remembered clues, assembled into maps he used for navigation.

But keeping all the complexities of physics formulas hanging in his mind, moving them, correcting them, reconfiguring them, all in his mind, was a real challenge. Especially when the teacher was spacing out. It would mean a lot of extra effort, going through the Braille version of the textbook. Unfortunately, Nina wasn't a lot of help in reading math.

The bell rang and Benjamin sighed with relief. He waited for the rush of departing bodies to thin out. He thought he had more or less understood the lesson, but he wasn't sure. He didn't even need it to graduate. He'd only taken it because it was reputedly the hardest class on the curriculum and taking it would show that he wasn't letting anything scare him.

“Sometimes your ego gets out of control, Benny boy,” he muttered under his breath.

“Did you say something?”

Claire. The voice, the smell of her hair. “Just mumbling,” he said.

“Yeah, you and Mr. Aubrey both,” Claire said. “Did you understand any of that?”

“I'll manage it somehow,” he said sarcastically.

“That's not what I meant, Benjamin. I wasn't being condescending. I meant
I
didn't understand what he was saying.”

“Try it without being able to see the damned board.” Benjamin was frustrated and taking it out on Claire, he realized, which wasn't fair. But he wasn't in the mood to be fair.

“It doesn't help,” Claire said, showing no sign that his attitude was annoying her. “He writes just like he talks. The man needs a full-time interpreter.”

“Really?” Benjamin felt better, despite himself. It was a relief to think that everyone else wasn't blazing right through and only he was failing to keep up. “I'm thinking an extra history class would have been a better choice as an elective,” he admitted.

“Physics isn't an elective for me,” Claire said glumly. “I have to take it if I'm going to go for the kinds of classes I want in college. The hallway's pretty much clear, by the way.”

“Thanks.” He started to walk away—four steps along the row of desks, careful for the ones that had been pushed out of line, a right turn, seven steps to the door.

Claire was still beside him. “So.”

“So . . . so I guess I'll see you on the ferry,” he said.

“Yeah, well, look, since there's no one around right now and there will be on the ferry—”

“Let me guess. Nina.”

“I'd almost forgotten your annoying habit of reading minds,” Claire said. “Come on. I'll walk you, then you won't have to be counting all the way.”

Benjamin felt her take his hand and place it on her arm. Her touch sent a wave of warmth through him. He fought to keep his features impassive.

“First of all,” Claire said, “I know you know all this, but I feel like I have to mention it anyway—”

“You're concerned because Nina has just gone through this whole thing with her uncle.”

“You know, you might at least let me finish saying something before you guess the end.”

“Sorry.”

“I am a little worried,” Claire admitted.

“Isn't this big-sisterly concern a little unusual for you, Claire?”

“This doesn't fall into the usual sibling rivalry category, Benjamin. What happened to Nina is different.” Claire's voice was serious. He could hear the fresh edge of outrage.

“I know.”

“We're coming to the stairs,” Claire said.

“I know. Four more steps,” Benjamin said. He stopped at the top of the stairs. “Look, Claire, you're right, I do know all this, okay? I know you're just trying to be a good sister, for the
first time in your life—”

“If I'd been a better sister earlier, maybe I could have done something to help her,” Claire said. “I hope that son of a bitch goes to jail and dies there.”

Benjamin smiled. “That will be our ‘happy thought' for the day.”

“Yeah. I hate to wish that on anyone, I guess, but he has it coming. Anyway. Look, Benjamin, all I'm saying is be aware of how much this means to Nina.”

“I know, it's her first real date.”

“It's more than that. I mean, you do realize she's in love with you, right?”

Benjamin laughed. “No, she just has a crush on me because I'm conveniently nonthreatening.”

Claire took both his hands in hers. “No, Benjamin, it's more than that. She's had a crush on you for a long time. As in years. It was no big deal as long as you and I were together and she wasn't at all serious about getting involved with guys, but both of those things have changed.”

Benjamin began to feel uneasy. Rartly because he didn't like hearing Claire dismiss their relationship almost casually. Maybe she had written it off, but he had not. But he was also uneasy because there was truth in what Claire was saying. Things
had
changed. For Nina as well as for Claire and him.

“So. What is it you're afraid I'll do?”

Claire hesitated. “Don't . . .” She took a deep breath. “Benjamin, you're a very easy person to fall for.”

Benjamin's heart tripped at her words and the way she had said them, but he fell back on his usual ironic detachment. “Yeah, a blind guy is every girl's dream. No need to do makeup.”

“You're frighteningly smart and perceptive, you listen to people when they talk, you're kind and generous, you have a wonderful sense of humor. You're confident. And I know you always suspect people are lying when they tell you this, but you are also very good-looking. Frankly, if you weren't blind, you'd probably be the most arrogant, full-of-himself, stuck-up jerk in this school.” Her voice grew soft. “Believe me, Benjamin, you are very easy to fall in love with.”

Benjamin wanted to say something, but for once he was at a loss. He wished Claire hadn't said that last part. They were alone in the hallway of the now nearly deserted school. She was so close he could feel the heat from her body. He so desperately wanted to put out a hand, find her smooth cheek, draw her full lips toward his.

But it was Nina they were talking about.

“I'm just saying, as corny as it sounds, don't break Nina's heart, Benjamin. Don't lead her on if you're not serious.”

“It'll be okay, Claire,” he said, unable to avoid the bitterness.
“I'm easy to fall
out
of love with, too.”

He felt her cool fingers stroke the side of his face. “No, you aren't, Benjamin.”

She turned away and ran down the steps. Benjamin listened to the sound recede and disappear.