The Islanders (27 page)

“But I do love you,” Lucas said, sounding almost desperate.

“Let me ask you a question. Do you even have a condom with you?”

“A condom? Do I have one?”

“I thought so. See, you love me, but you're willing to take the risk I could get pregnant or catch something.”

“So, you're saying if I get some condoms . . . ?”

“No, I'm saying when
I
decide
I'm
ready, you'll be the very first person to know.”

Lucas lay silent in the dark. Whether he was seething in
anger or nodding in agreement, she couldn't be sure.

“I'll be the first person to know,” he repeated. “Not Jake?”

Zoey sighed. “Lucas, I was just trying to help him out because he was in bad shape. Would you like me if I were the kind of person who just walked away?”

“I think I'm going to have to scream into my pillow some more.”

“You're not the only one,” Zoey said softly. “You know, I do love you, too.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Go to sleep.”

“Hmm. Can I tell everyone we slept together? I mean, we are, technically.”

“Go to sleep.”

“Good-night kiss?”

“Sleep.”

She heard him scream into his pillow once more, and a few minutes later they were both asleep.

 

Love is a fairly useless word. It is imprecise. It isn't specific.

You love your mom, you love your country, you love ice cream, you love the girl you love. I love you like a brother, I love the smell of napalm in the morning, you're gonna love this one, I
olve
love what you do for me Toyota, gotta love it. Same word, different meanings.

Even romantic love has all sorts of different levels. I mean, Romeo had a different thing going with Juliet than Mr. and Mrs. Macbeth had together. Although, who knows? Maybe if Romeo
smf
and Juliet had survived, gotten married, grown old, they too might have ended up murdering their houseguests and chatting with witches.

My point is, there are four women who are important in my life. My mom, whom I love. Your basic filial love. My sister, Zoey, whom I also love. This would be your brotherly love.

Then there's Claire, whom I love. Romantic love. The boy-girl thing, with sort of a self-destructive, why-am-I-doing-this? sort of edge mixed in. Love as a form of protracted conflict.

Then there's Nina. I love Nina in kind of the same way I love Zoey. Like a sister.

Except she's not my sister, which means that all the while I've
beeeen
been aware that possibilities existed beyond the very definite limitations of brotherly love. Aware of the possibilities, but determined not to think about them and screw up a really good friendship.

And there's something a little disturbing about the idea of a person migrating from the “love-you-like-a-sister” category over into the much more intense “can't-wait-to-kiss-you-again” category. It's no different than one day saying “Man, I love ice cream” and the next day saying, “No, I mean I
really
love ice cream. I want to have Ben and Jerry's baby.”

It still seems like something that ought to be illegal, or at least frowned upon.

THEY CAUGHT THE SEVEN-FORTY FERRY
from the island and rode across choppy seas, under a high, full moon, toward the glittering mainland and, Nina thought melodramatically,
destiny.

“You look . . .” Benjamin said, letting the question hang.

“Fetching,” Nina supplied. “It's complimentary, but not over the top.”

Benjamin smiled. “And I particularly like that . . . um, that—”

“Dress.”

“And the color, why it's . . . it's . . .”

“Depressing,” Nina said. “It's black.”

“Still, it goes nicely with your eyes—”

“Which are gray.”

“Yes, I know that,” Benjamin said smoothly. “I was asking how many. Two, right?”

“Arranged so that there's one on either side of my nose,” Nina said. “I read in
Seventeen
that's the fashionable arrangement for eyes this season.”

“And me? How do I look?” he asked, giving a little turn on the steel deck.

As usual, he looked good, having a wardrobe that consisted almost entirely of subtle, muted colors that worked well in almost any combination. “Well, I don't want to make you self-conscious,” Nina said, “but the green plaid doesn't really go all that well with the yellow stripes. Or the paisley.”

“Damn. I've made another fashion faux pas. Imagine my embarrassment.”

They both laughed and Nina realized she was feeling almost relaxed, as if this night didn't represent a major change in her life. As if there weren't a dozen horrible scenarios floating around in the back of her mind, ranging from slightly embarrassing to move-to-another-state embarrassing.

Benjamin fell quiet for a moment and Nina didn't interrupt. He was listening to the sound of the engines, the intermittent crash of waves against the hull, and the murmur of other conversations. She listened with him, and searched his familiar face for a sign that he had magically changed in the way he felt about her. Was he being nicer? Gentler? More considerate? Probably not, she concluded. Benjamin was just being himself, neither more, nor less.

“I like the way you do that,” he said.

“Do what?”

“The way you know when I want to listen, and you wait very patiently.”

“Sure,” Nina said, feeling awkward. She began looking in her purse for her cigarettes.

“So. Aren't we all supposed to be surprised that Claire and Jake are going to this dance together?”

Claire. Nina had wondered how long they'd be able to go without her name coming up. She looked across the deck and spotted them, Jake and Claire, leaning back together by the stern railing, close but not touching. And not really talking very much, either. “I think Jake owed her big time for last night,” Nina said. “And I guess she really wanted to go to this dance.”

“She does have a way of getting what she wants,” Benjamin observed.

“That's what you like about her, isn't it?” Nina asked.

Benjamin smiled and gave the uncanny impression that he was looking at her from behind his sunglasses, trying to read her expression. “How about if we make a deal right up front here. How about if we don't talk about Claire?”

“What'll we talk about instead?”

“Hmmm. Infomercials. Favorite cheeses. What to bring to a desert island. And the meaning of life.”

“Okay. Sounds cool. But we'd better start with the easy one first.”

“Meaning of life,” Benjamin said, nodding.

“Let's have it down by the time we dock.”

The ferry came into Weymouth and the seven of them disembarked, part of a sparse crowd. It was difficult for islanders to do much nighttime partying on the mainland, since the last ferry returning to the islands left at nine. Late-night functions like dances meant taking the more expensive water taxi home.

Aisha felt a little strange, walking through the streets with her friends. Tonight she was the only one not part of a couple. Even Nina had a date, and she and Benjamin were talking away, occasionally laughing out loud. It was nice to see Nina having a good time that involved a member of the opposite sex, but it did drive home to Aisha the fact that she was the odd person in a group of seven.

Although, come to think of it, she felt happier than Claire and Jake looked.

Official visiting hours at the hospital were over, but the feeling had been that they should give it a try just the same. The truth was, if they hadn't planned to go and see Christopher, Aisha would have just stayed home.

Aisha had discovered a door on an earlier visit that bypassed the heavily monitored emergency room, and she led them inside. The brightly lit hospital corridors were mostly empty,
and they made their way quickly, suppressing giggles and making morbid jokes, like a group of party crashers with very bad taste in parties.

Aisha knocked at the door to Christopher's room and, on hearing a muffled response, they went in. She was relieved to see that Christopher was sitting up, looking relatively normal again. The swelling had gone down sufficiently to allow him to see out of both eyes. He was flipping through the channels on the TV.

“Hey, what is this?” he asked. “You didn't all have to play dress-up just to come visit me.”

Aisha gave him a little kiss. “We're on our way to the homecoming dance.”

Christopher cocked an eyebrow suspiciously. “And who's your date?”

“We're all sharing,” Zoey piped up. “Actually, I'm sharing Lucas two ways, with Louise Kronenberger and with Aisha.” She sent Lucas an exaggeratedly suspicious look.

“Still on the good painkillers?” Lucas asked.

“No, and I've noticed something—TV is much better when you're delirious. Thank God I'm getting out tomorrow. I'd lose my mind if I had to spend any more time in here. I even lost my roommate.” He indicated the vacant bed across the room.

“Lost?” Nina asked.

“Not as in dead,” Christopher said. “As in gone home.”

“Tomorrow we'll have you all set up,” Aisha promised. “The Governor's Room. Jacuzzi, big four-poster bed, antiques, and my mom, who wants to try out a bunch of recipes on a helpless guinea pig.”

“I get to move in next,” Jake said, speaking for the first time.

“Yeah, well, you guys have all been very cool,” Christopher said, suddenly serious. “Delivering my papers and all. Zoey's dad covering for me at the restaurant. Mr. Geiger I know has covered most of my bill here in the hospital.”

“Liberal white guilt,” Nina said with a shrug. “Besides, the old man's rich.”

“Of course he did say he wants the papers up on the front porch from now on,” Claire said. “Not halfway across the yard.”

Christopher smiled crookedly. “I'm just saying everyone's been very cool in this. Especially certain people.” He put his arm around Aisha's waist.

“Island solidarity,” Benjamin said. “When we're not busy stabbing each other in the back, we try and help each other out.”

“Hey, you guys better get going,” Christopher said. “I know Lucas has vital duties as homecoming king.”

“Please don't use that phrase,” Lucas pleaded. “Whenever I hear it, I get a headache.”

“Go on, before the nurse busts you all,” Christopher said. He took Aisha's face in his hands and gave her a kiss on the lips. “That's the best I can do until those stitches come out,” he apologized.

“That was plenty good,” Aisha said with feeling. The others had started to leave discreetly. “We'll have to work together on the period of rehabilitation.”

“I'll see you, babe.”

She kissed him on the head and opened the door to the hallway. The others were bunched together, making
aww, wasn't that sweet
faces.

“Hey, Lucas,” Christopher called out. “Can you come here a minute?”

Lucas looked surprised. He went back into the room.

Lucas was inside for several minutes. When he came out, he looked distracted and grim. But he quickly plastered on a smile. “Come on, let's get out of this place.”

“What was that all about?” Zoey asked.

Lucas shrugged. “Oh, he just, uh . . . he said he wanted me to, you know, keep an eye out for Aisha. Manly protective stuff.”

Aisha laughed as though she believed him, but she could see that Zoey's eyes were clouded with doubt. And Lucas sounded less than convincing.

But an orderly turned down the hallway, forcing them into a panicky, giggling race for the exit, and the moment for voicing suspicions was past.

THE MULTIPURPOSE ROOM WAS A
sea of bodies in motion, bouncing, spinning, hair tossing, arms and legs that seemed to belong to more than one body. The lights were low and filtered through pink and red crepe paper, deepening shadows and making bare skin glow unnaturally, as though everyone in the room had just come from a tanning bed.

The band onstage was one everyone had seen before, and most had danced to before. They played an eclectic mix, one minute hard rocking, then veering off into sanitized, school-board-approved rap.

“So,” Nina said, surveying the scene. “This is a school dance.”

“Haven't you been to one or two dances?” Benjamin asked her, speaking loudly over the music.

“Maybe for a total of ten minutes,” Nina said. “Hey. Where are you guys going?”

All the island contingent had arrived together, but Claire
and Jake had already wandered off in one direction, and now Zoey and Lucas and Aisha were sidling away.

“Lucas has to go find out when the big presentation is!” Zoey yelled in her ear. “Eesh and I are just going to hit the girls' room.”

“Wait, I'll go with you,” Nina said, leaving Benjamin's side.

Zoey shook her head. “Nina, stop worrying; you'll be fine. Don't think of it as a date. You're just hanging out with Benjamin.”

“There's a band and I'm wearing a dress,” Nina protested. “That's not hanging out.”

“Bye, Nina,” Zoey said with a wink.

Nina watched her disappear and then went back to Benjamin. One or two kids on the dance floor were sending looks in their direction. But it had not been the full stop-and-stare she'd feared.

“How's it look?” Benjamin asked.

“Like teen night in hell,” Nina said bleakly.

“Cool,” Benjamin said with a smile.

“People are looking at me.”

“Admiringly?”

“No, more like
What's the deal? Why is Nina here? She never comes to dances.
”

“Since when do you care if people look at you?”

“Since I know what they're wondering is, Does she have a date? Benjamin? No way, Benjamin wouldn't go out with Nina. Besides, she doesn't even like guys, does she?” Nina was beginning to feel the first trickle of panic. People were staring, more and more now. Each of them analyzing the situation. Each of them remembering what they'd heard about Nina's uncle. Hundreds of amateur psychiatrists working up their analysis of her while they danced and rubbed their bodies together.

Nina swallowed hard. She felt something touch her arm, then slide down to her hand. Benjamin's fingers wrapped around the fist Nina had formed.

“Come on, Nina,” Benjamin said. “This is the moment when you either go forward or back.”

“I know what they're all thinking.”

“Ten minutes from now they'll have forgotten all about you.”

“It's like I'm trying to be someone else. That's always a mistake. Be yourself, right? And I'm trying to be some other person.”

“No, it's like you're trying to be yourself without a lot of old fear getting in the way, Nina. Hey. Did you bring your shades?”

For a moment Nina was confused. Shades? Then she remembered. With her free hand she opened her purse and looked inside. “Uh-huh.”

“So?”

Nina hesitated. Her stomach felt like it was turning. She was sure she must be blushing brightly; she could feel the heat in her face. And she was definitely avoiding eye contact with everyone. She could walk away now, go back and catch the ferry home. Benjamin would find someone to spend the rest of the evening with.

She would be alone and safe. She could remain the same person she'd always been, not have to break new ground and suddenly try to emerge from the years of shame and secrets.

There was a sudden break in the music. With a loud twang the lead guitarist had broken a string. Relative quiet descended as the music faded out.

“I'm guessing we have everyone's attention now,” Benjamin said dryly.

It was true. Without the distraction of the music there wasn't much for people to do but stare, subtly or openly, at what seemed like the impossible spectacle of Nina Geiger and Benjamin Passmore holding hands.

Nina took a deep breath. “Okay,” she muttered under her breath, “now that I have everyone's attention.” She reached into her bag and pulled out a Lucky Strike and stuck it in the corner of her mouth. Her hands were shaking so badly she almost couldn't do it. Then she retrieved the sunglasses, the Ray Bans
identical to the ones Benjamin wore, snapped them open, and put them on.

Finally, with a supreme effort, she unclenched her fist. Her fingers, clammy and sweaty, intertwined with Benjamin's.

The music started up again. The crowd started dancing.

“Are we still being stared at?” Benjamin asked.

“A little less,” Nina admitted. Her teeth were chattering as if she were cold.

“Well, we are officially on a date then, I guess.”

“So, I guess we'd better dance,” Nina said, trying not to sound like she was telling the dentist to go ahead and drill.

Benjamin laughed. “You think it's been scary so far. Wait till you're around me when I'm dancing.”

Lucas danced a little with Zoey, and danced once or twice with Aisha, and drank some punch. But it was hard to get into the party atmosphere. Christopher had pretty well killed any remaining chance that he might enjoy this evening.

Christopher had called him back into his hospital room to ask whether Lucas could get him a gun.

A
gun.
Like Lucas was a gangster or something. He'd told Christopher to forget it. First of all, he'd been busted for drunk driving leading to a fatality, not for holding up 7-Elevens. Second of all, he hadn't even been guilty of the drunk driving.

Third of all, getting a gun so he could go looking for the guys who beat him up was dangerous and stupid beyond imagination.

But Christopher had sounded determined. It was a matter of getting his respect back, he said. Most of the serious screwups Lucas had known in YA were there over one type of respect or another. Respect was a popular word among violent losers. He'd told Christopher that, but Christopher wasn't thinking clearly.

Lucas wondered how good his reasoning would be under similar circumstances. Probably about the same as Christopher's, he had to admit.

It was going to force a grim choice on him. He could either stand back while Christopher tried to handle things on his own. Or he could drop the dime on Snake, and maybe have to face the consequences.

After a while one of the girls from the homecoming committee came and found him. Perfect. He was really in the mood for some more b.s.

“I have to go get ready for this dumb-ass ceremony dance thing,” Lucas told Zoey, leaning to put his lips to her ear.

“Good luck,” Zoey said. “Aisha and I will spend the time picking up guys.”

Lucas gave her a dirty look and Zoey grinned back angelically.

He went back to the room behind the bandstand, where the music was reduced by cinder-block walls to a dull, throbbing noise like a bad headache. Half a dozen girls and guys from the organizing committee, the principal, and two teacher-chaperons were there, milling around importantly, along with Louise Kronen­berger, looking flushed and happy.

She tossed her voluminous brown mane and looked him slowly up and down. “Finally, our big moment,” she said.

“Yeah,” Lucas said unenthusiastically.

“They already explained to me, we wait till Hardcastle's given his speech and put everyone to sleep. Then the band starts up, slow dance, out we go, take a little bow, and dance around the floor.”

“I can't slow dance worth a damn,” Lucas said.

“I tried to tell you we should practice.”

“Zoey wouldn't have been real happy about that idea.”

“Zoey,” Louise said impishly, as if the name were a joke. “Zoey doesn't have to worry about
you
, does she?”

“No, she doesn't,” Lucas said.

“I know, I know. My reputation precedes me. But really, Lucas, at least ten percent of my reputation is exaggerated.” She laughed gaily at the joke. “Seriously, just hold on to me and I'll get you through it.” She gave him a look from beneath half-closed lids.

There was a flurry of activity as Mr. Hardcastle and the student who was to introduce him left the room, followed by the two teachers and the rest of the committee members.

They were alone. Louise moved closer, smiling at the way he sidled away. “Like my dress?” she asked.

“What there is of it,” Lucas said, keeping his eyes firmly on her face and away from the cleavage on display.

“Boy, Zoey does have you whipped,” Louise said.

“We island kids have very low libidos,” Lucas joked, still backing away. “Toxic ferry fumes or something.”

“I wouldn't say that,” Louise said dryly. “Jake's an islander.”

Lucas knew instinctively that he did not, under any circumstances, want to ask Louise what she was talking about. Unfortunately, that didn't stop her.

“Yeah, we had a very nice little party last night,” she said, laughing all the while. “Although I have to admit, I think he may have thought I was someone else.”

Lucas sighed. Perfect. What was it with people that they were constantly dumping their secrets on him? Zoey had already given him hell for knowing that Christopher was being unfaithful to Aisha. Then there had been Christopher's brilliant gun idea.

Now K-burger had just announced that she had seduced Jake. Wonderful. Who was he going to piss off by keeping
this
secret? He knew who he'd piss off by telling.

“Look, I didn't hear that, okay?” Lucas said.

Louise shrugged. “I'm sorry, I like guys. And guys like me. Usually, at least, when they don't have some girl's leash around their . . . necks.”

“I love Zoey,” Lucas said, feeling virtuous. It was a damned shame Zoey wasn't there to witness his stellar performance.

“Yeah, but Zoey's hanging on to the big
V
, isn't she? I don't know why. I mean, Lucas, you could have any girl in this school. Zoey ought to realize that.”

“It's none of your business,” Lucas said coldly.

Louise laughed. “In other words, I'm right about Zoey.”

The door to the room opened and one of the committee girls said, “Okay, it's time. As soon as you hear the applause die down after Mr. Hardcastle gets done speaking.”

“That shouldn't take long,” Lucas said.

“I can't believe you're enough of a wimp to let Zoey control you, Lucas. I had this image of you as being more . . . I don't know. Tougher. I thought you were something special.”

“Let's just get this over with,” Lucas said. Louise wasn't the first person tonight to have a confused image of him.

“Okay. But while we're dancing close, and you have your arms around me, keep in mind that there are girls in the world beside Zoey the Pure.”