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“Both.” Nola took a swig of the sherbet-and-Sprite punch from her blue plastic cup. “I’ve been getting my certification for physical therapy online. This summer I’m doing the hands-on part of the training, and then I am so out. Of. Here.”
“You’re going after what you really love,” he said. “Good for you.”
Nola gave him a sidelong glance. “Listen, kid. You’re fresh out of college. You probably still think you can ‘inspire students’ or some crap like that. But I’m telling you now, if you think it’s going to be all Freedom Writers all the time, you’re living in a dream world. This business sucks. Get out while you still can.”
As gravely as he could, Balthazar said, “I doubt I’ll be doing this for the rest of my life.”
“What’s that you won’t be doing?” Tonia Loos came skittering up on her high heels, which, like her skintight dress, were brilliant red. “Balthazar, you look amazing in that suit. Too bad you can’t wear it to school so we could enjoy the view every day…. Oh, hi, Nola.”
“You both look wonderful tonight, too,” Balthazar said. Which was true: Although Tonia’s getup was a little loud for his taste, she was undeniably attractive in it, and Nola had abandoned her usual fleece track jackets for a gray satin sheath that gave her a classic elegance.
Nola gave him a grin and a nod; Tonia draped herself on his arm. “You’re a smooth talker, you know that?”
“I’m gonna see if any of the kids got around to spiking the punch yet,” Nola said, with the definite implication that, if they had, she’d help herself to a glass before making the students dump it out.
“You know,” Tonia said, looking up at him from beneath a veil of thickly mascaraed lashes, “later on, when the crowd’s started to die down, sometimes the teachers dance.”
“I doubt they’ll play many songs I know.”
“You’re always so mysterious! Never talking about yourself. Like, for instance, what kinds of music you enjoy. What songs would you know?”
Balthazar considered Tonia carefully before answering. “If I answer one of your questions, will you answer one of mine?”
“Ooooh, a guessing game. I love games.” Tonia’s grin widened.
“I tend to like older music,” he said. “Classical, mostly, though I have a soft spot for fifties stuff. Elvis, rockabilly, that kind of thing.”
“I bet the DJ would play some Elvis. At least the remixes.” Tonia was obviously very fixated on the idea of their dancing together later that night. Balthazar resolved to have something very important to do at the end. “Okay, your turn. What do you want to know?”
Balthazar kept his voice very gentle, because he suspected that, with her, the words would have to be harsh: “Why is a woman as attractive as you so insecure?”
Tonia didn’t answer at first. Then she raked her nails through her hair, as if that could calm her down. “Wow. You’re—blunt. Really blunt.”
“I’m trying to be honest.”
“If you’re not interested—or there’s someone else—there is, isn’t there? Should’ve known the women of this country wouldn’t let you wander around unattached.”
Balthazar nodded and tried not to think of Skye. “Will you tell me why?”
“You only see the final result. But in high school—really, my whole life up to now—I didn’t have this.” She made one gesture that seemed to take her in, head to toe. “Do you know, I lost fifty pounds the year before I came to Darby Glen? I thought it would change things. But nothing ever changes.”
He was too familiar with loneliness not to recognize it in another. “You’re not the person you were before. I’m not talking about the weight; I mean—you get to change. Mature. Grow up.” It was a journey Balthazar would never be able to take; no matter how many centuries he lived or how much wisdom he acquired, his heart would always be young. “Trust the person you’ve become. Take pride in it. And see who chases you.”
Tonia finally smiled a little. “Maybe you should be a guidance counselor instead of a history teacher.”
“You never know.” Before fate was done with him, who could guess what else he might have to become?
The song shifted to something slower, almost mournfully sweet. The lights dimmed slightly, and the room filled with a rosy glow and dozens of tiny white scattering beams reflected throughout. For one brief moment, even the high school auditorium seemed to be beautiful.
Laughter echoed from the doors as another group of students came in. Balthazar turned, knowing even as he did so that he would see Skye there.
She stood at the edge of the group, tethered to them only by Keith’s meaty hand around hers. Skye wore a more elegant dress than the showy stuff most of the girls favored; in this light, her dress appeared to be some delicate shade between champagne and rose, made out of filmy stuff that left her shoulders and most of her legs bare while wrapping her body in soft petals. Her dark, burnished hair was gathered into an artfully messy tail that fell to one side of her neck. There was no pretending that she wasn’t the most beautiful girl in the room.
Skye’s gaze locked with his. In that instant, he saw just how much she didn’t want to be with Keith … how she’d dressed for him, so that he would see her and want her.
And he knew she saw how badly he wanted her.
The moment between them was broken when Keith towed her out onto the dance floor. Within seconds, they were only one of the many couples shuffling along awkwardly out there, Keith half talking to his friends over her shoulder as if she weren’t even present.
