cold.
“You’re freezing,” he observed, rubbing her arms briskly with his hands.
“Just a little.”
“Put this on.” He took Vince’s cape, which was still draped over her arm, and which she’d all butforgotten while they’d danced, and draped it over her shoulders. It offered surprising warmth. He tied it under her chin. She didn’t trust herself to look up into his eyes, because then he’d know—really know—how she felt about him.
“There,” he said, his big fingers fumbling with a lopsided bow. He stepped back and leaned on the split-rail fence.
“Thanks,” she said. She studied him. Why couldn’t he simply act flip and clever, as he had the first day they’d met? She wished she could turn back the clock and relive the lightheartedness of that afternoon, before he’d known about her CF.
“What am I going to do about you, Kara?”
His tone was subdued and so sincere that his question caught her by surprise. “What do you mean?”
“I can’t stay away from you.”
“You seem to be doing a fine job of it,” she said quietly, but without malice.
“I know it seems that way, but you don’t know how hard it’s been.”
She was skeptical. “We just danced together, but after tonight, how will it be between us? Will you still ignore me in the halls? Will you duck into the nearest open door whenever you see me coming?”
He turned his head, and she saw his jaw clench. She thought he might walk away, but instead he asked, “What’s between you and Vince?”
“We’re friends.”
“Vince doesn’t act as if he’s just your friend.”
“Vince understands me. We’re a lot alike.” There were so many things she couldn’t say to Eric because she didn’t want him to think of her as sick.
“I would like to understand you, too.” Eric’s words came haltingly.
No you wouldn’t
, she thought, knowing the overwhelming burden of her illness. He had no idea what he was asking. “Haven’t you ever had a best friend?”
“No. I’ve only had lots of friends. Tons of friends,” Eric added sardonically. “I’ve always known how to have a good time, and people like me for that.”
Especially the girls
, she thought. “Having fun’s important.”
“I don’t get close to people very often. It keeps things from getting complicated. But with you and Vince—it’s different. I can tell.”
“Vince and I go back a long time. We’ve always shared this condition.” She hated to bring up her illness. “People who aren’t sick don’t understand. Christy does. It’s complicated.” She shrugged and stared up at him. “What do you want me to be to you?” She wasn’t sure where she found the boldness to ask such a question, but she had to know. She didn’t want to be one of “Eric’s girls.”
“I’m still trying to figure it out.” Her heart sank. What had she expected? A pledge of commitment and devotion? She turned her head, and Eric quickly added, “I didn’t mean that the way itcame out. I guess I want to get to know you better. It’s a start.”
Knowing her meant knowing about CF. And accepting it. “I’d like that,” she blurted out before she could stop her lips from saying what her heart was feeling.
“And Vince?”
“He and I will always have a special relationship. Why does it have to be either-or? It’s different with both of you.”
“It usually doesn’t work out for a girl to bounce between two guys.”
She wanted to debate with him, but her chest was tightening up again and a headache pounded behind her eyes. She was certain that her fever had returned.
“Kara?” Vince’s voice called to her, and she and Eric both turned toward it. Vince was standing in the moonlight, in his costume. He looked like a prince out of darkness from a fairy tale. For Kara, his presence was like a lifeline thrown to a drowning person. She was sick, and he would help her. She trusted him.
“I’m here,” she said.
Vince ignored Eric, came up beside her,
“You’re freezing,” he observed, rubbing her arms briskly with his hands.
“Just a little.”
“Put this on.” He took Vince’s cape, which was still draped over her arm, and which she’d all butforgotten while they’d danced, and draped it over her shoulders. It offered surprising warmth. He tied it under her chin. She didn’t trust herself to look up into his eyes, because then he’d know—really know—how she felt about him.
“There,” he said, his big fingers fumbling with a lopsided bow. He stepped back and leaned on the split-rail fence.
“Thanks,” she said. She studied him. Why couldn’t he simply act flip and clever, as he had the first day they’d met? She wished she could turn back the clock and relive the lightheartedness of that afternoon, before he’d known about her CF.
“What am I going to do about you, Kara?”
His tone was subdued and so sincere that his question caught her by surprise. “What do you mean?”
“I can’t stay away from you.”
“You seem to be doing a fine job of it,” she said quietly, but without malice.
“I know it seems that way, but you don’t know how hard it’s been.”
She was skeptical. “We just danced together, but after tonight, how will it be between us? Will you still ignore me in the halls? Will you duck into the nearest open door whenever you see me coming?”
He turned his head, and she saw his jaw clench. She thought he might walk away, but instead he asked, “What’s between you and Vince?”
“We’re friends.”
“Vince doesn’t act as if he’s just your friend.”
“Vince understands me. We’re a lot alike.” There were so many things she couldn’t say to Eric because she didn’t want him to think of her as sick.
“I would like to understand you, too.” Eric’s words came haltingly.
No you wouldn’t
, she thought, knowing the overwhelming burden of her illness. He had no idea what he was asking. “Haven’t you ever had a best friend?”
“No. I’ve only had lots of friends. Tons of friends,” Eric added sardonically. “I’ve always known how to have a good time, and people like me for that.”
Especially the girls
, she thought. “Having fun’s important.”
“I don’t get close to people very often. It keeps things from getting complicated. But with you and Vince—it’s different. I can tell.”
“Vince and I go back a long time. We’ve always shared this condition.” She hated to bring up her illness. “People who aren’t sick don’t understand. Christy does. It’s complicated.” She shrugged and stared up at him. “What do you want me to be to you?” She wasn’t sure where she found the boldness to ask such a question, but she had to know. She didn’t want to be one of “Eric’s girls.”
“I’m still trying to figure it out.” Her heart sank. What had she expected? A pledge of commitment and devotion? She turned her head, and Eric quickly added, “I didn’t mean that the way itcame out. I guess I want to get to know you better. It’s a start.”
Knowing her meant knowing about CF. And accepting it. “I’d like that,” she blurted out before she could stop her lips from saying what her heart was feeling.
“And Vince?”
“He and I will always have a special relationship. Why does it have to be either-or? It’s different with both of you.”
“It usually doesn’t work out for a girl to bounce between two guys.”
She wanted to debate with him, but her chest was tightening up again and a headache pounded behind her eyes. She was certain that her fever had returned.
“Kara?” Vince’s voice called to her, and she and Eric both turned toward it. Vince was standing in the moonlight, in his costume. He looked like a prince out of darkness from a fairy tale. For Kara, his presence was like a lifeline thrown to a drowning person. She was sick, and he would help her. She trusted him.
“I’m here,” she said.
Vince ignored Eric, came up beside her,
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