White House Autumn (19 page)

There were Homecoming posters all over the place, which was depressing. Josh had been so cute when he asked her to the dance, making a big deal of it—bowing low, giving her a white rose, even though it was pretty well understood that they would be going together. Or,
would
have been.

She looked down the hall, seeing him at his locker. His shoulders looked sad. Slouched. Josh never slouched—he had grown about three inches in the last year, and was pretty pleased about it.

Oh, hell. Beth was right. She started towards him, but now he was going the other way. Because he had seen her? She stopped. Okay, fine. If that was the way he wanted it. She turned and went to her own locker, irritated at him again.

She sat in English first period, looking at her book so she wouldn’t have to meet eyes with anyone. She hadn’t slept well the night before and felt like resting with her head on her arms, but her teacher, Mrs. Hayes, probably wouldn’t be too thrilled about that. Christ, though, it would be nice to take a nap for a minute. She leaned her head on her hand, sliding her elbow until her upper arm was flat on the desk. That was probably as close to lying down as she could go without getting in trouble.

Then, as Mrs. Hayes discussed some of the different journeys
serving as metaphors in
Heart of Darkness
, someone knocked on the door. Meg—and everyone else in the class—sat straight up.

Oh, God, not again. Jesus Christ, she couldn’t do this again. Had they gotten into the hospital somehow, or—she hung onto her desk with both hands, waiting for the bad news. Her parents, Steven, Neal—Mrs. Hayes crossed to the door, opening it.

“Of course, Carol,” she said. “I think you left it in the back.”

Meg slumped forward, closing her eyes. It wasn’t her family. Thank God it wasn’t her family. She felt, rather than saw, the hard looks the rest of the class was giving the little tenth grader, who grabbed her notebook off the back table and hurried out. Meg took deep breaths, her heart feeling as though it was jumping all around her chest, caroming off her ribs.

“Well, now,” Mrs. Hayes said. “Where were we?” She returned to the front of the room, passing Meg’s desk, squeezing her shoulder so swiftly that Meg almost didn’t notice. Now, she
did
rest her head on her arms, trying to calm down. It was just some kid, it wasn’t—but maybe something bad was happening, anyway, or—she had to check.

She caught her teacher’s eye, indicating the door. Mrs. Hayes nodded and Meg jumped up, almost running out of the room. One of her agents—who was posted in a strategic location in the hall—looked startled.

“Have to make a call,” she said briefly, pulling her phone out of her jeans pocket.

He followed her down the hall, and they passed one of the patrolling agents on the way, who looked uneasy and also fell into step behind them. She found a relatively private alcove, speed-dialed the number, and asked for her mother, the aide on the other end telling her that she was in a meeting.

“It’s kind of important,” Meg said, knowing that she had to hear her mother’s voice before she could relax.

She was put on hold, and then, after a couple of minutes, her mother came on.

“Meg?” She sounded worried. “Is everything all right? Where are you?”

“School.” Meg let out her breath. Her mother
sounded
okay. Tired, maybe, but her voice was strong. As though she was starting to get better, at least. And she was obviously safe. Right now, anyway. “Are you all right?” she asked, to be sure.

“I’m fine,” her mother said.

“Is Dad okay?” she asked.

“He’s fine,” her mother said. “Meg, what’s happening? Are you sure you’re—”

“Yeah.” She leaned against the side of the alcove, her legs feeling weak from relief. “Steven—” She let out another breath. “Steven and Neal are probably okay, too.”

“Yes, they are.” Her mother’s voice was gentle.

Okay. “And you’re
sure
you are?” Meg asked.

“Yes,” her mother said. “Meg—”

“I have to go now,” Meg said quickly. “Sorry I interrupted you and stuff, I just—I wanted to be sure you guys were okay.”

“I love you,” her mother said.

“Um, yeah, me, too.” Meg shifted her weight. “See you after school.” She hung up, resting against the wall until she felt under control. Intense fear was exhausting.

Time to go back to English. She crossed the hall to the water fountain and splashed her face, managing to soak part of her shirt and sweater in the process. Too tired to worry about it, she started down the corridor, stopping abruptly.

Josh was waiting against some lockers, his expression nervous—and concerned, his arms tense across his chest. They looked at each other, neither moving. Then, Meg walked over, leaning in for a hard, silent hug.

“Buy you a drink, sailor?” she asked against his ear.

He laughed, hugging her closer.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’ve been a really terrible person lately.”

“You’ve been going through some pretty terrible things,” he said.

“Yeah, but—” She shook her head. “It’s still no excuse. I’m sorry, Josh. I really am.”

He hugged her even closer, not saying anything. For a minute, it was enough to be touching; then, it wasn’t, and they were kissing about as hard as they had ever kissed, Meg not caring
who
was around to watch.

Behind them, someone cleared his throat. They broke just barely apart, turning to look. It was Mr. Carlisle, their physics teacher, his face stern, but also amused.

“Shouldn’t you two be in class?” he asked.

They nodded, Meg too happy to blush.

“Then, maybe you ought to go,” he said.

They nodded again and he nodded back, continuing on his way.

“We probably shouldn’t risk him catching us
twice,”
Meg said.

“Probably not,” he agreed, much more flushed than she was.

She leaned up to kiss his cheek, and they walked down the hall, holding hands.

“Are things any better?” he asked.

“I don’t know.” She sighed. “Not really.”

“Will you let me help you?” he asked.

Something which, apparently, did not come naturally to her. “I’ll try,” she said.

He nodded, tightening his hand.

When they got to their English classroom, she stopped.

“Don’t let me hurt your feelings again,” she said, “okay? I mean, if I take stuff out on you.”

He flexed his muscles. “I’m tough.”

“Which might come in handy. She smiled. “Good.”

He opened the door, and it wasn’t until she stepped inside that it occurred to her that their coming back together was going to be pretty obvious. Indeed, the entire class—including Mrs. Hayes—grinned,
and someone sang the first few bars of “Reunited.” This time, Meg blushed, and Josh was the one who looked pleased. She sat in her isolated seat, while Josh returned to his regular seat—since she couldn’t really move her books over during the middle of class.

“What, you don’t even sit with him?” someone to her left asked.

“Matt,” Mrs. Hayes said to him, “tell me what you think about the opening to Chapter Three.”

“Uh, yeah, uh—what page is that?” He picked up his book, fumbling through it, and Meg relaxed. That was two she owed Mrs. Hayes.

Having Josh nearby made things much easier and, even though she wasn’t hungry, she sat at her normal lunch table—and it was very nice to be with a bunch of people who weren’t wearing suits. Also, people who talked about things like homework, dumb gossip they’d seen on the Internet, and the Redskins. Normal things. She didn’t really participate, but it was soothing to listen.

After school, she went directly to the hospital. Her mother was in meetings most of the time, and looked even weaker than she had the day before. But, she and Meg’s father were pretty cheerful because the doctors had decided that she could come home on Monday. Meg carefully didn’t allow herself to think about the prospect of her having to go back out in public—and vulnerable to maniacs again.

Josh was coming over that night, and Meg got home just in time to change. Since she had been so rotten to him, she sort of felt as if she should put out some effort. She wore her one pair of jeans which could never be described as being baggy and a grey cashmere sweater, along with a silver chain and appropriate small hoops. She also put on lip gloss, mascara, some of her mother’s Chanel No.5, and even used some blush to highlight her cheekbones. First-date time.

She sat on the stairs leading to the Ground Floor Corridor to wait. Josh was right on time, and when she went to meet him in the Diplomatic Reception Room, she wasn’t sure why she felt so shy. He
had also taken some care dressing, and was actually wearing a tie underneath his sweater, and his charcoal grey pants—which she personally thought were sexy as hell. His cheeks were red—it had been colder than usual, all week—but instead of a jacket, he had on a maroon tartan scarf. How jaunty.

“Hi,” he said.

She smiled nervously, and they walked upstairs, her agents—who, stupidly, had to follow her around the house whenever she left the private quarters—leaving them at the top of the stairs once they got to the second floor.

“Wait a minute,” Josh said, after they were gone, and grabbed her in a hug. They kissed until they were out of breath, Meg hoping that neither of her brothers were going to appear unexpectedly—and also hanging onto the railing with one hand, to make sure that they didn’t fall down the stairs.

Josh moved back, straightening his glasses. “Hi.”

Meg laughed. “Hi.”

They ended up on the third floor, where her brothers were playing a subdued game of pool in the Game Room. So, they hung out with them for a little while, until Neal looked more cheerful, and Steven decided he was hungry, and the two of them went downstairs to go find Trudy—or one of the stewards or butlers—and get something to eat.

She wasn’t supposed to go into bedrooms alone with Josh—even though there almost a dozen empty ones available, and it was tempting—so, they sat on the couch in the Washington Sitting Room, instead, holding hands.

Meg let out her breath. “This feels kind of like the first time you came over.”

He smiled. “I was scared to death that night.”

“Yeah, me, too,” she said.

He looked surprised.
“You
were?”

“Well—yeah. What did he think? “Of course I was.” She picked
up his hand, still feeling shy. “I mean, I didn’t really know you, and for all I knew, you were—well, I’m not all that great at trusting people.” With, granted, on many occasions, good reason.

“Yeah,” he said wryly. “I’ve noticed.”

She flushed, and dropped his hand. “Are you mad at me?”

“You were mad at
me,”
he said.

“No, I wasn’t. I was just—” She sighed. “Mad, in general.”

“It didn’t
seem
that way. I don’t know. Sometimes I wish—” He stopped.

Was he about to break up with her? It sounded that way. She moved slightly away from him. “What?”

“I kind of wish I’d had a bunch of other girlfriends,” he said. “Before you, I mean.”

“To see if I measured up?” Meg asked stiffly.

Josh just sighed. “Meg.”

“Yeah, well—” She heard Beth’s voice saying, “You’re doing it right now,” and stopped. “What do you mean?” she asked, more pleasantly.

“Thank you,” he said. “What I
mean
, is—well, going out with you is kind of like—I don’t know—running a marathon before you can
walk
or something.”

Meg frowned. “I don’t get it.”

“Think hard,” he said.

Josh was rarely snarky—but, he’d probably earned the right during the past week or so. “It’s not my fault,” she said, making an effort to sound less defensive than she felt. “I mean, I’m just normal.”

He shrugged. “I just sometimes wish I’d started off with someone more my speed.”

“What,” she said, “you mean, I’m fast?”

He laughed. “Well, that’s not
quite
what I meant.”

She sat back, also grinning. “Do I detect a note of irony there?”

“Let’s just say ‘fast’ isn’t the word I would have used,” he said.

“Oh, yeah?” She thought about that, then pushed him down, kissing him. “What word would you have used, Josh?”

He leaned up to kiss her back. “Out of my league.”

“That’s four words.” She lifted herself onto her elbow so she could look at him. “It’s also stupid.”

“Well, maybe.” He took off his glasses, and put them on the end table, blinking to focus. “Reporters bug me a lot. They call my house, even.”

Meg frowned. “I thought that guy from the
Post was
the only one.”

He shook his head. “It happens a lot.”

And she knew there was all sorts of stuff on the Internet—because she had seen some of it herself. “You should have told me,” she said. “Preston could probably do something.” Not with the paparazzi, probably, but maybe with the mainstream media.

Josh shrugged. “I just say no comment, mostly, or that they have the wrong number. Anyway, the thing is, they usually ask what someone like me is doing dating someone like you, and it’s not all that dumb a question.”

The hell it wasn’t. “Yes, it is,” Meg said. “And it’s really rude, too.”

He just shrugged.

“Well, I’m sorry,” Meg said. “I’ll tell Preston to—”

“It’s not that big a deal. I only brought it up because—” He paused. “Actually, I kind of forget why I brought it up.”

“You were failing to make a point,” she said.

“Oh. Right.” He laughed suddenly. “You just said what I think you said, right?”

Probably.

He laughed again. “Mmm,” he said, moving to kiss her neck.

Which felt good, but they weren’t done yet. She leaned away from him. “I thought we were having a conversation.”

“Later,” he said, kissing her ear now.

She moved away again. “The thing is—”

“I bet you want to do
this
later,” he said.

She nodded.

“Okay.” He put his hands behind his head, smiling up at her. “Go ahead.”

“The thing is, I
need you
to think that I’m normal,” she said. “I mean, if you feel funny around me, it’s like—I don’t know. I need to know that I can be cranky, or sad—” or yell at him—“without everything falling apart.”