Page 58 of In Harmony

“Nothing,” she said, a little too fast. “I doodle when I’m bored. Paulson was putting me to sleep the other day.”

I nodded. I wasn’t an expert on clothes, but I could tell her jeans didn’t come out of the bargain bin at The Outpost. Designer brands ran at ninety bucks a pair. Not something you wanted to mark up with black ink.

Let it go.

I took a drag and looked over the amphitheater. I liked coming here at night, when the white stones glowed in the moonlight. My own Stonehenge. In the light of day, the space echoed with all the activities it hosted in Harmony: the fair in summertime, the occasional wedding ceremony and the high school graduation I wasn’t invited to.

“I heard George Mason High holds graduation here,” Willow said, apparently reading my mind. “Are you going?”

“No.”

“Does that bother you?”

“Nope.”

“What about all the other school events and experiences? Football games…” She kicked her feet against the cement block. “Dances.”

I shrugged. “I’m nineteen. I’ve had enough of high school.” I glanced up at her. “I remember there’s a Spring Fling or something coming up. You going?”

Oh shit. It sounded like I was asking her. I didn’t even go to the school anymore; I couldn’t ask her. Could I?

“No, I’m not going,” she said slowly.

“There might be rehearsal that night,” I said, tossing my cigarette on the ground. “Is why I mention it.”

“True. And anyway, no one’s asked me.”

“Justin hasn’t asked you yet?” My voice was casual and I slouched as I looked out over the amphitheater. Just a guy making conversation. Oscar-caliber acting.

“What? No. Justin and I are only friends.”

“I got the impression…” I shook my head. “Never mind.”

“The impression I like him?”

I looked back at her. “That he likes you.”

“Oh,” she said, her brows coming together. “God, I hope not. He’s nice enough. I mean, he gives me a ride after rehearsal. But…”

I felt myself craning forward for the rest of her sentence, my ego gleefully throwing o

ut suggestions.

He’s dumb as a brick.

He secretly can’t read.

He farts when he laughs.

“It feels more brotherly to me than anything else,” she finished. “I suppose because he’s playing Laertes.”

“Yeah,” I said and my ego high-fived itself.

“I’m so…not into being with someone right now,” Willow said with a nervous lilt to her words. “Not for a while, anyway.”

I heard a whisper on the breeze, or ever again. A heaviness in her eyes hinted she had lost something and had almost given up trying to find it.

She hasn’t given up, I thought, a fierce admiration welling in me. That’s why she’s doing the play. To find it again.