Page 65 of Inferno

Chapter 16

After school that day, Manning and his friends were walking out to their buses when he saw Taylor standing alone beneath a large sycamore tree that graced the front lawn of the building.

“I’ll catch up with you fellas tomorrow,” Manning told his comrades, who’d been laughing uproariously at some joke about a detested science teacher.

“How long will you be grounded?” Yuma Navarro asked Manning.

He made a pained face.“A month.”

“Amonth?”

“At least.”

His friends’ sympathetic groans followed him as he wove through the noisy crowd of students heading toward the buses along the curb. As he neared Taylor, he saw that she wore headphones and was listening to a Walkman tucked into the front pocket of her camouflage jacket.

When Manning reached her, he tapped her lightly on the shoulder.

She jumped, glancing sharply around. When she saw Manning standing there, her face lit up with one of those smiles that sucker-punched him right in the gut.

Removing her headphones, she said shyly, “Hey, Manning.”

He smiled.“Hey, yourself.I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“That’s okay.”

He pointed to her Walkman. “What’re you listening to?”

She blushed. “You’re gonna laugh if I tell you.”

“No, I won’t. Try me.”

She hesitated, tugging her bottom lip between her teeth. “I was listening to Ella Fitzgerald.”

“Hey, that’s cool, Tay. My brother likes her, too. You should hear him play ‘Lullaby of Birdland.’ ”

“Ooh, that’s one of my favorite Ella Fitzgerald songs!” Taylor enthused.

“Monty’s, too.My mom says he inherited her father’s love for jazz, which is why Grandpa named Ma’s brother after his favorite jazz musician, Thelonious Monk.”

“Your uncle is named after Thelonious Monk?”

“Yeah.My grandfather heard him play at some jazz club in New York during the forties. Grandpa was so blown away by his music that he insisted on naming his firstborn after him.”

Taylor grinned broadly. “How cool isthat?”

Manning chuckled. “My uncle didn’t always think so,” he drawled, glancing back toward the idling school buses. He was relieved to see that his own bus was running late, because he wasn’t ready topart companywith Taylor yet. For reasons he couldn’t begin to explain, he’d found himself thinking more about her—and their kiss—than the hot, sweaty sex he’d had with Caitlyn.

That morning in precalculus, he’d sat behind Taylor and playfully tugged on her ponytail when Mr. Langenkamp’s back was turned. Giggling softly, she’d tucked her hair into her hooded sweatshirt, only to have him pluck it free again. They’d kept at this little game until one of their classmates—a snooty senior—rolled her eyes and muttered in disgust, “Stupid freshmen.”

It was all Manning and Taylor could do to keep from bursting into laughter.

“Why aren’t you getting on your bus?” he asked her now.

Taylor beamed. “I’m waiting for my dad to pick me up. He got back from his business trip yesterday, so he’s taking me and my brother ice skating.”

“That sounds like fun.” Manning smiled at her. “Are you a good skater?”

“Sure.” She grinned wryly. “I’m no Dorothy Hamill, but I can make it around the rink without falling on my butt. Hey, why don’t you come with us?”