Renee Carter - His Eyes

Chapter 6

I took Ahnas place on my bed and she leapt toward the closet. She explained, You need something thats going to stand out. She tossed her hair and pulled out a dress. Something red.

I stood up and took the hanger. I examined the dressa flower pattern lace over satiny fabric, with a ruched top and spaghetti straps. I remembered, Junior year homecoming.

Yes! Every dance, fast or slow! I complained.

Ahna grinned. Well, youll have better luck in it tonight. Put it on and Ill go find your makeup.

I laughed as she headed to the bathroom; she knew me too well. Except for special occasions, I never wore makeupthanks to my moms influenceso it usually ended up buried at the bottom of a drawer in the bathroom. Prep for a dance wasnt complete without Ahna spending fifteen minutes grumbling while she dug through drawers in search of my one, illusive tube of lipstick. But thats what friends are for.

I took off my t-shirt and jeans and slid into the dress. The fabric was smooth against my skin while I eyed myself in the mirror. The dress ended at my knees with a small ruffle. I couldnt stop myself from spinning in a circle and humming Lady in Red . I knew I wasnt destined for a modeling contract, but there was something about wearing red that made me feel beautiful. Ahna was right; this was it.

While I pulled on a pair of red heels, there was a knock at my bedroom door. Ahna pushed it open with her foot. She was armed with a curling iron in one hand and an eyeliner pencil in the other. She held them in the air and proclaimed, When I get done, Tristan wont be able to take his eyer, mind off of you.

* * *

As I drove up to the Edmunds gate, I saw that it was open. The dj vu made my stomach twist with nervous nausea. Pushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear, I pulled into the driveway. I immediately had to swerve when a woman carrying a serving platter walked in front of my car. Slamming on the brakes, I realized that the drive was jam-packed with white vans that had Platinum Catering silk-screened on their sides. I inched my Camry as close to the entrance as possible, double parking next to one of the vans.

I stepped out of my car, doing a little hopscotch when one of my heels became lodged in the cobblestone. Great. I bent over, slowly working my shoe loose, and heard a low whistle. I jerked my head up to see Chris standing on the top of the steps next to Tristan. Pervy little boy. He leaned toward his brother, whispering loudly, Trist, she looks really pretty!

My cheeks burned and Tristan gave his brother a smack on the back of the head. Shut up! She can hear you!

Oh. Chris looked down at his feet while rubbing his head.

I gave my foot one hard jerk and my shoe came free. I clicked my way up the stairs and stopped next to Tristan. Hey. Whats all this about?

Tristan was dressed in a white dress shirt, black tie, and pants. These were covered with a traditional black robe. Complete with his dark sunglasses, he looked like he had wandered off of a photo shoot. He held his graduation cap in one hand and brushed the other through his hair. Mothers throwing a post-graduation party, he turned his head toward me, for the school board members.

Oh. The people shed paid off. I awkwardly scratched the back of my neck. Okay, well, wed better get going. Wouldnt want to be late.

He gave a short laugh. No, that cant lead to anything good.

I take it youre not excited? I looked over to see him pulling at his tie. Graduation is one of those Big Things in life youre supposed to remember forever.

I thought births, weddings, and funerals pretty much covered it.

After maneuvering carefully around the caterers, I pulled safely back onto the road and hit the gas. I asked, Are you speaking from personal experience?

Well, I saw both Chris and Marly right after they were borncheck. I was a groomsman at my uncles second weddingcheck. And the funeral, he paused and his voice lost some of its edge, that hit pretty close home. I mean, burying your father...you dont forget that.

I licked my dry lips and said quietly, That must have been awful.

Tristan shifted in his seat. Ive had better days.

I raised my eyebrows in surprise. Tristan had a knack for using his sarcasm to avoid talking about tough stuff. But then again, I did too, so I wasnt about to call him on it. I silently pulled into Clarences parking lot an entire ten minutes early. The lot was full of expensive, polished vehicles. Luckily, I found a tiny space near the sidewalk that the Hummers and Suburbans couldnt dream of fitting in, while my Camry did just fine.

I walked around my car, while Tristan climbed out of his side. When he took my arm, I asked coyly, So, no more arm around the waist?

He frowned and said shortly, I dont think anyones going to be questioning why were together, anymore.

Ouch. He had point.

I followed the line of formally dressed families that were filing from the parking lot into the building. We walked inside, down a hallway, and into a large wood-floored gymnasium. There were rows upon rows of leather-cushioned seats that put to shame the rusted old folding chairs I knew would be at my graduation. Elegant banners depicting fierce panthers hung from the ceiling. At the far end of the room was a small stage on which several older women and men, including the headmaster, sat.

Many of Tristans classmates were already in their seats and they turned to watch us walk down the aisle. I kept my head facing forward and hurried to the front row where two seats were waiting; I guessed his mother had arranged for this, too. After we were seated, Tristans hand remained wrapped firmly around my arm. I patted his hand comfortingly. His skin was like ice! I hissed, Nervous?

In fact, I could. Having a hundred people staring at you is hard to ignore. I squeezed his hand and whispered back, Its going to be fine.

The lights in the room dimmed and I zoned out while the Valedictorian and the Salutatorian took turns at the podium giving their speeches on the future and the great possibilities for our generation and whatever. They were both slow and monotone enough to lose me after thirty seconds. The applause of the crowd and the brightening of the gymnasium lights jarred me back to reality.

From behind the stage, the Clarence orchestra began to play Pomp and Circumstance and the name Michelle Anderson, boomed through the room. Michelle, from a mere five chairs away, stood and began her ascent to the stage. She was followed shortly by, Kelly Brighton, Peter Darmon, and Nicole Dunne. After each name was read, the audience clapped wildly. Joseph Eccles, from the last chair to Tristans left, even garnered a whistle. I amused myself with visions of the offending whistler being dragged away by secret Clarencite police, before I realized that it was... our turn!

Tristan Edmund.

With a gulp, I rose and Tristan jerked to his feet. We made it to the top of the platform before I realized that the applause was pathetically quiet, except for the back of the room, where Charlie was standing on top of his seat, clapping his little hands off, along with Mrs. Edmund. Perhaps it was the red of my dress, but I was pissed. I spun on my heel, glaring at the crowd, and began to clap as loud as I could. Pumping my fist in the air, I yelled, Woohoo !