Heather Terrell - Eternity (v5)

When I final y glanced up from the final step, to which I had my eyes glued so I wouldn’t fal , there stood Michael, so handsome in a dark blue suit and yel ow tie. His green eyes pierced mine, and I didn’t need to ask him how I looked. His expression said it al .

In front of everyone, before he even brought me over to his parents, he took me by the hands and kissed me lightly on the lips. Then he strapped an exquisite rose corsage around my wrist; he already knew there was no space for it on the bodice of my dress. He whispered, “It’s nowhere near as beautiful as you.”

I should’ve been embarrassed, but I wasn’t.

He broke our gaze first, saying, “Mom, Dad, you remember my El ie.”

My El ie. He knew precisely how to make me melt. I stretched out my hand to a very pretty, chestnut-haired woman who was beginning to gray around the temples. Just like my parents. I’d met his parents twice before—once when they had me over for dinner, and once when we sat together at one of Michael’s footbal games. They were unfailingly pleasant, if a little distant and formal, and somehow we managed to avoid the awkward topic of Guatemala. I stil couldn’t dredge up an image of Michael from the far reaches of my trip memories.

“Mrs. Chase, it’s nice to see you again.”

“You too, El ie. You look absolutely lovely tonight. Michael told me about your dress, but his descriptions didn’t do justice to the dress—or you in it.”

I blushed, thinking of Michael talking about me to his parents. Trying to ignore the redness of my cheeks, I welcomed his dad next. He was attractive, with an olive complexion and nearly black hair. I kept searching for family resemblances, but blond, fair Michael didn’t favor either one of them.

My parents joined our conversation. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched as Ruth, Jamie, and their respective parents made their introductions.

The group moved into the living room, and my mom passed around appetizers while my dad poured soft drinks for the kids and wine for the adults.

An hour passed with surprising ease. School and the dance provided ready topics of conversation, and even Ruth’s usual y recalcitrant dad seemed to relax and open up. Around seven, Michael and Jamie started glancing at their watches and dropping hints that we should leave. The parents acquiesced, but only after they took about a mil ion pictures.

Everyone said their farewel s, and Ruth, Jamie, Michael, and I hopped into Michael’s car. We had decided on one car. We had no idea what the parking would be like, and in any event, we had agreed to hang out at my house afterward.

Michael was just about to pul out of the driveway, when I cal ed out for him to stop. Unused to carrying a purse, I’d left mine on the kitchen counter.

Michael drove me right to the porch’s front steps, and I climbed up them as fast as my spindly heels would al ow. Opening the front door, I was relieved that none of the parents were lingering in the front hal way. I wanted to slip in and slip out without the holdup of more chitchat.

Tiptoeing down the back hal way toward the kitchen, I heard my mom and Michael’s mom talking. So much for going undetected. But then a rush of water from the kitchen sink sounded. I peeked in and saw our moms’ backs as they rinsed off the dishes. Maybe I could slide in and grab my purse unnoticed.

“I stil cannot believe that you and Armaros are in Til inghast,” my mom said in a tone that wasn’t exactly warm.

“We real y had no other choice,” Michael’s mom said apologetical y.

“After we worked so hard to make them forget that they’d ever met—in Guatemala. . . .” My mom’s voice trailed off.

“I know. And so successful y with El ie. Those same techniques didn’t work so wel with Michael, as you know.”

“We did need to have them meet at least once before they come of age, to see how they’d react to one another and to find out what they were capable of together. We needed to take that risk in Guatemala. I just wished they’d ful y forgotten each other,” my mom said.

The way my mom said it made me wonder whether something awful had happened in Guatemala that they wanted me to forget. If only I could get flashes from my parents or Michael about that trip. I’d tried without success. I kept coming up against that same wal .

My thoughts were interrupted by Michael’s mom. “I know, and that’s the only reason we’ve let them spend time together. But it would be so much easier to keep them in the dark until it’s time.”

“It would have been easier if you’d stayed away from Til inghast,” my mom replied, her voice getting louder and angrier.

“You know that the best way to protect them is to have them in the same location. To keep watch over them.”

“You should have contacted us beforehand.”

“It didn’t seem wise. You know that. Tonight—al of us together in one place—was risk enough.” Michael’s mom sounded almost repentant.

“Even once the children had found each other of their own accord? You didn’t think that you should contact us then?” My mom’s voice rose; she was real y mad.

“We couldn’t take the chance, Hananel. It seemed better to wait and al ow their relationship to develop of its own accord. And watch.”

Hananel? Who was Hananel? My mom’s name was Hannah. And what were they talking about?

My mom was almost screaming. “Watch? Those are rich words coming from a former watcher, whose watching was anything but passive waiting. Just what did you think this passive waiting and watching would gain us?”

“Time, Hananel. I thought the watching would give us time.”

My purse dropped to the ground with a clap, and both women pivoted toward me.

“El ie, honey, I thought you’d gone,” my mom said, her voice as sweet as sugar.

I bent down to pick up my purse and brandished it like a sword. I smiled as if I hadn’t heard a thing, and said, “Couldn’t leave without my purse, could I?” Then, uncertain of what to say or do, I waved good-bye and raced back to the car. The conversation I overheard was bizarre, to say the least, but I wouldn’t let it ruin my first dance with Michael.

Chapter Twenty-three

The expression on our classmates’ faces as we walked into the gym was worth every moment of preparation. The girls mostly gave Ruth and me sidelong glances of appreciation and mild astonishment, but the guys were another story. Some of them openly gaped as we sauntered across the room.

Ruth basked in the attention, and I could tel that Jamie derived a certain vicarious thril being by her side. As for myself, I experienced a surge of power not unlike the sensation I got when I had a strong flash. And looking at Michael, I saw that he did as wel . The feeling helped dispel the nagging voice inside my head about the conversation I’d overheard in the kitchen, which I hadn’t dared to mention to Michael yet. I didn’t want to ruin our perfectly normal teenage night with a reminder of our strangeness.

We smiled at the other kids as they stared at us, and tried to act casual. The four of us commented on how the dance committee had real y transformed the place. Our gym no longer looked like a relic from decades past, but more like an intentional y retro eighties dance club.

Al the while, Ruth’s voice buzzed like a little bee in my ear as she gave a running commentary on the other girls’ dresses. Lexie, she pronounced, looked great in her strapless blue mini, as did Charlotte in her black-and-white lace dress. But, Ruth said, what was Nikki thinking wearing that gold satin ful -length gown with a crystal neckline?

I spotted Piper and Missy in a dark corner, almost behind a set of bleachers. The out-of-the-limelight spot seemed odd for the girls; I expected them to hold court front and center, especial y at an event like this. And where were their dates? I knew Piper was going with Lucas, but I wondered who Missy’s date was. I hadn’t seen her with Charlie lately, but I had spotted her walking up the library stairs with that other guy. I guessed that guy was the Zeke mentioned in the flashes, and the figure I’d seen in the shadows.