Authors: S. G. Rogers
Secrets of Yden (8 page)
****
Sunday after church, Jon went for a run on the beach. He hadn't had a long run in a while, and usually it felt good to move. But every time he emptied his mind, it filled back up again with Kira's face. His pace faltered as he remembered the sense of grief and failure in his dream the night before. His ego wasn't just bruised â it was pulverized. Brett had been his first crush. He'd cared an awful lot about her and still did, if he were to be honest about it. But the way he felt about Kira had him by the throat.
Try to have a sense of perspective
, Quixoran had said.
Okay, well, on the bright side⦠Earth hadn't had another time anomaly since the beach party, he had the museum exhibit to look forward to, and he'd be meeting January Beck on Thursday. Plus, Charles and Lynn were getting married in December. Those were good things. He remembered telling Brett not too long ago he'd rather have her as a fellow apprentice and friend than nothing at all. He'd just have to think the same way about Kira from now on.
Yep, having a sense of perspective pretty much stinks.
****
Brett was waiting for Jon at his locker Monday morning.
"My friend Heather thinks you're really cute and she'd love to go to the dance with you. Let me give you her phone number and you can call her."
"Look, I don't need you to get a date for me," Jon said.
Her eyes widened. "I didn't meanâ"
"This situation will work a lot better with you staying out of my love life. I'm doing just fine. In fact, I'm more than fine, thanks for your concern."
Officially in a bad mood, Jon slammed his locker closed and stomped off toward his homeroom. As the morning wore on, he tried to stop glaring at people⦠particularly after Casey told him he looked maniacal. By the time lunchtime rolled around, Jon thought he had his temper under control. Unfortunately, Kira pulled him aside as he headed toward the cafeteria.
"Jon, please wait a moment. I'm sorry about what happened this weekend. I really wanted to tell you about Davy in private."
"You don't owe me an explanation. In fact, you don't owe me a thing."
"I can see you're angry, but you hurt Brett's feelings and made her cry."
A pang of guilt made him wince. "Okay. I'll apologize to her. Are we done now?"
"Let me explain why I asked Davy to the homecoming dance. It's not what you think."
"Come on. After all we've been through, are you seriously going to give me 'The Speech'? Let me make it easy for you. 'Jon, you're a great guy but I don't have feelings for you that way. Can't we just be friends?' Does that about sum it up?"
"No, it doesn't. I'm trying to tell you something but you refuse to listen to me. In any case, I don't find your jealousy attractive."
"Why should I be jealous?"
Her eyes narrowed. "Perhaps you're not the man I thought you were, Jon Hansen."
The verbal jab slipped in between Jon's ribs like a knife and felt just as painful.
"That's a little harsh, Princess," he managed. "Tell Davy I wish him luck. He's going to need it."
Feeling rotten, Jon slouched into the cafeteria, filled a tray, and snagged Casey on his way to the patio. He would've corralled Fred, too, but his friend was already sitting with Brett, Davy, and their crowd. Jon knew Kira would be joining them shortly and he didn't relish her glaring at him.
Casey and Jon ate lunch at a table under a shady tree. Preoccupied and upset, Jon chewed his food without tasting it. Wisely, Casey said nothing for a long while.
"I heard Kira asked Davy Thyssen to the homecoming dance," he said finally.
Jon grunted. "Yeah, I heard that too. They make a great couple."
"Are you okay?"
"Not so much. I keep trying to have a sense of perspective, but it keeps smacking me on the nose."
"Bummer."
"Now you sound like Mr. Emerson."
"You have anyone else you want to take?"
"I wasn't going to go at all, but I've got another prospect on the radar. Maybe."
"Anyone I know?"
"Don't tell anyone, but it's January Beck."
Casey practically choked on his tater tots. "
The
January Beck? The girl from
Immortal Soule?
"
"Yep. She's Lynn's sister."
"Lucky you."
"Not so fast. I haven't met her yet."
"Huh?"
"I'm picking her up at the airport on Thursday, so we'll see how it goes." Jon shrugged. "I'm still leaning toward not going."
Fred came bounding over. "Hey, Jon, are you hiding out here to escape the Petticoat Posse?"
"What are you talking about?" Jon replied.
"Word's out you need a date for homecoming, and a bunch of cheerleaders are gunning for you."
Jon felt anger spread throughout his body. "You can tell everyone to back off," he said, his pride wounded. "I got a date already."
"Really?" Fred said. "Who?"
"January Beck."
Casey's eyebrows moved up toward his hairline.
Fred guffawed. "That's a good one." Jon didn't crack a smile, and Fred's mirth turned to disbelief. "Wait a minute⦠you know January Beck? For real?"
"Yeah. She's having dinner with me Thursday night."
As Fred hooted in admiration, Jon gave him a weak smile. He'd omitted the fact Charles and Lynn would be there too and it was far from being a date. When Fred darted back into the cafeteria to spread the news, Jon winced. He should have kept his mouth shut, but he'd allowed his bruised ego to write a check that might bounce.
"You
so
just over-committed," Casey said, shaking his head sadly.
Jon gave Casey a bleak glance. "No guts, no glory, right?"
If he couldn't get January to go with him to homecoming, a sudden case of dengue fever was sounding better and better.
****
Before the end of the day, Jon found an opportunity to apologize to Brett for biting her head off.
"It's all right," she said. "I probably deserved it in a way."
He gave her a hug. "No, you didn't. You were only trying to help, and I was a jerk about it."
"You don't need any help, apparently." She paused. "Are you really going to the dance with January Beck?"
"I shouldn't have said anything."
I really, really shouldn't have said anything.
January in September
Jon tried to recover his good humor over the next few days so he wouldn't scare January to death. He designed a Miss Jane sign in calligraphy and convinced his father to loan him the Lexus SUV for his chauffeur duty. On Thursday after school, he took the SUV for a wash and wax and replaced the '80s music in the car's CD player with cooler stuff. Before he left for the airport, he changed into black denim jeans, a freshly pressed white long-sleeved shirt, a new sports coat, and a silk tie. He even brought along some cold bottled water in case January was thirsty. Sure, he was going to a lot of trouble.
Anything for Chaz and Lynn.
Arriving a little early at the airport, Jon scored a fairly decent parking spot in the short-term parking structure and made his way into the terminal. According to the electronic Arrivals board, January's flight was on time, and when her flight arrived, he went to the baggage claim area to wait for her. A couple of chauffeurs were standing nearby. Although they weren't wearing uniforms, Jon could tell they were drivers because they were holding up hand-lettered signs with people's names on them.
When the passengers from January's flight began to stream down the escalator, Jon scanned the crowd, searching for anyone who remotely resembled the actress in
Immortal Soule
. One super-skinny girl was alone, wearing a pink baseball cap and sunglasses, but her head was bent so Jon couldn't see her face.
Could that be her?
Although Jon couldn't be sure, the girl must have seen his sign because she came to a stop right in front of him.
"That's fine, but I haven't seen a script," she said.
"Sorry?"
To his surprise, the girl flicked him a withering glance. It suddenly dawned on him she was wearing an earpiece and was talking to someone on a cell phone.
"Hmm. Well, until I see the script, nothing's going to get done," she said.
Jon tried to catch her eye. "Do you have luggage?" He cocked a thumb at the baggage carousel.
"What's that?" January said to the person on the other end of the call. "I'm sorry, but I'm in an airport, and people are talking at me."
The girl never paused her conversation, but instead held up two fingers in a V.
Either she's waiting for two bags, or she's giving me the peace sign
. Since January didn't seem the peace sign type, he waited for the luggage conveyor belt to begin moving. When January turned her back to continue her phone call, irritation muted his enthusiasm. He tried to deal with it; perhaps she was in the middle of an important business deal involving the role of a lifetime, and as soon as she finished her call she'd apologize.
To his amazement, however, January never got off the phone. After what seemed like forever, the conveyor belt began to move and a parade of luggage floated by. Feeling like an idiot, Jon stood next to the belt, waiting for Lynn's sister to tell him which bags were hers. Judging from the designer shoulder bag she carried, he guessed her luggage would match.
Sure enough, when a matching overstuffed designer garment bag appeared, January whacked him on the arm and pointed. With gritted teeth he retrieved the bag, just to receive another whack as a rolling suitcase came along. Jon glanced around, looking for hidden cameras.
This has to be some kind of gag⦠doesn't it?
Nobody jumped out from behind a pillar to let him in on the joke, so he positioned the garment bag on top of the rolling suitcase and maneuvered the pile out of the terminal. The entire way, January trailed along behind him, yakking on her cell phone about some interview she'd done and an article about her appearing in some magazine somewhere. As he passed a trashcan, Jon lobbed his carefully drawn Miss Jane sign inside.
Miss Jane is obviously an ardent fan of January Beck.
When Jon reached the Lexus, he opened the front passenger side door for his guest. January ignored the gesture and instead let herself into the back seat.
Whatever
.
Irritation and anger were edging toward hatred. Jon stowed January's bags in the trunk and slid behind the wheel.
"Air conditioning," January barked.
Seething, Jon turned up the a/c. With a flick of a glance in the rearview mirror, he checked to make sure January had her seatbelt fastened. She caught him looking at her.
"Eyes front," she snapped. "I value my privacy."
Jon bit back laughter. He figured since she was treating him like a chauffeur, he'd act like one. "Yes ma'am. I beg your pardon."
"Hang on," she said into her phone. Then she addressed Jon. "Do you know where I'm going?"
"The Pacific Bay Hotel, ma'am." Jon offered her the bottled water. "Would Miss Jane care for a drink?"
She took it without saying thanks, and then returned to her phone conversation. Jon was truly floored. He'd met people before who were great at being self-centered and rude, but January was an expert. As he drove to the hotel, he wondered how far his loyalty to Chaz and Lynn would stretch. Should he kick the girl to the curb and be on his way, or should he continue making an effort? He leaned toward dumping.
The drive was uneventful, although he inadvertently learned more about January's business than he ever wanted to know. She'd loved her last film director, but hated the costume designer. She'd hated her co-star, but loved the cinematographer. She'd hated the reporter who'd interviewed her for
Vanity Fair
but loved the photo stylist. Jon got the feeling there was no middle ground with the girl.
At the hotel, a bellman brought a luggage cart for January's bags. Jon handed his keys to the valet and waited while she checked in at the front desk. Thereafter, he rode in the elevator with her to her floor. The whole time she was engaged in a non-stop phone conversation and never acknowledged Jon's existence at all.
The bellman took a separate, faster service elevator, and when Jon and January reached her suite, the bellman was waiting with her bags. After she entered the suite, January immediately walked to the balcony to check the ocean view. Jon took a quick look around the place; the suite was impressive, with tasteful décor. There was a fully stocked bar and a small refrigerator, and the hotel management had set out a nice welcome basket on the table with a handwritten note addressed to Miss Beck. The basket was filled with fresh fruit, a box of gourmet hand-dipped chocolates, and a bottle of sparkling cider.
The bellman lifted January's rolling suitcase onto a teak folding luggage rack, hung her garment bag in the closet, and ambled down the hall with the ice bucket to get ice. As January continued to yak on her cell phone, Jon waited, trying to get a word in edgewise.