Transcendence t-1 Page 6

  “Right,” Kat agrees, looking around for her bag. “We should go.” She grabs her things and we walk out the front door, Kat turning around and making an extra effort to wave to Francesca and Drew through the glass. They’re so wrapped up in each other I don’t think they even notice we’re gone.

  “What was that all about?” I say, once the door is shut behind us. “I was standing right there. I’m not a complete idiot, you know. I can dress myself.”

  “I know,” Kat says, giving my clothes another look. “But I wasn’t wrong, was I? I mean, you’d never wear any of the stuff in the shop, would you?”

  “Not really the point,” I say. I look at the storefronts as we walk. All of the stores are closing things up for the night. “Where are we going that’s so important?”

  “Just here.” Kat steers me into a dimly lit old café. These kinds of places have been totally off Kat’s radar until recently. Now all the old things are cool again, and everyone wants a piece of the “authentic” San Francisco. This one has been here for decades, the walls lined with dusty trophies and black-and-white photos of movie stars from generations ago.

  Kat pushes a plate of biscotti toward me after she orders our drinks. “I thought you might be hungry,” she says, fidgeting with her bag. “My treat.”

  I bite into a chocolate one and realize how hungry I am. “Thanks,” I say, instantly suspicious. Buying biscotti and hanging out at cafés isn’t part of our usual routine. Either she’s getting worse at hiding things or I’m getting better at figuring them out, because all of a sudden I know that she has a secret. And that it’s a big one.

  I sit up straighter. “Did you get a tattoo? Because you know Mom and Dad are going to kill you if you did.”

  Kat laughs, showing her perfect white teeth. “No,” she says. “Not yet, anyway.” She glances toward the door. “This is a different kind of something.”

  She’s staring over my shoulder when I hear his voice. “Hey, Cole.”

  I turn to see Griffon standing behind me. He looks exactly as I remember him—brown curls, broad shoulders, and amber eyes that are so intense I have to look away. I don’t trust myself to speak, but I manage a weak smile as he sits down in the empty chair. My heart is racing, and I can feel my cheeks getting hot. I’m starting to feel lightheaded, like I’m spinning around way too fast, and the last thing I need is to have a vision right here in front of them both.

  “Check it out!” Kat says loudly, with a little squeal. “Griffon lives in Berkeley, of all places! I was so lying when you asked about him the other day.”

  I clear my throat, looking everywhere in the café but at him. “I have to … um …,” I stammer as I push the chair back and walk as quickly as I can to the safety of the bathroom in the back of the café. Locking the door behind me, I force myself to breathe normally and try to organize my racing mind into something resembling rational thought. I lean against the sink and stare into the mirror until the panic starts to recede. I’m not having a vision. I’m just freaking out.

  Griffon is here. In San Francisco. He shows up unannounced in photos that were taken days before we met and thousands of miles from here. Just when I think I’ll never see him again, he appears right in front of me, and my first response is to lock myself in the bathroom. Oh God. This line of thinking is not helping me calm down much.

  “Cole, what the hell?” Kat says in a loud whisper from the other side of the door. “I go to all this trouble, and now you’re making me look stupid.”

  I lean against the door. “I know. I’m sorry. I’m just … surprised, is all.”

  “So what now?” she asks. “After I brought him all the way over here, what do I tell him? That you have a weak bladder?”

  “I don’t know,” I whisper back. I have no idea how to get out of this without looking like an idiot. “Just tell him I’ll be right out.”

  “Well, hurry. Griffon really wants to see you, so you’d better not screw it up.”

  I don’t answer, because we both know it’s too late for that. Walking back into the room, I’m relieved to see he’s still sitting there, talking to Kat.

  As I get to the table, he looks up and smiles at me. “You okay?”

  I grin back just a little. He must think freaking out is part of my normal everyday life. “Yes. Sorry. I just…” I let the sentence trail off, because there really is no good answer.

  He gets up and pulls my chair back for me to sit down. I’ve never seen anybody my age do that before. “I should have called first. But Kat wanted to surprise you.” He sits back down in his chair. “I guess it worked.”

  “So,” Kat says, glancing at me to make sure I’m not going to run off again. “Turns out that Griffon’s mom teaches at Cal.” She raises her eyebrows in my direction. “Isn’t that cool?”

  I look at him straight on for the first time since he walked in. Griffon probably failed to mention that fact the day we met because he didn’t ever intend to see me again. Which only makes this whole setup even more embarrassing. “Yeah. That’s cool.”

  “So, um, Kat says you go to Pacific,” Griffon says, in an obvious attempt to steer the conversation away from my lameness, an attempt I deeply appreciate. “I was there just a couple of weeks ago for a baseball game.” He smiles. “I go to Marina. We beat you guys nine to nothing.”

  “Yeah, well, Pacific isn’t exactly known for its sports,” I say, unaware until this moment that our arts magnet school even had a baseball team. I wonder if we’ve crossed paths on campus. I’ve never been to any of the games, but maybe he passed me in the hallway or on the sidewalk while I was waiting for my bus. I went halfway around the world to meet someone who lives practically next door the whole time. Rayne is going to love this.

  “Cole spends a lot of time in the music department.” Kat says it almost like she’s proud of that fact.

  “Are you in the band?” he asks, and I can see visions of big fuzzy hats and bad polyester jackets passing through his mind.

  “Not exactly,” I say. I study him for any sign of impatience, wondering why he picked now to tell me the truth. He’s probably only doing this as a favor to Owen.

  “Cello,” Kat says. “Cole’s a world-class cellist. She even played with the symphony last year. The real one, not the kid one.” I stare at her, not sure who this person is. She looks like my sister, but she sure doesn’t sound like her. Kat is the first person to complain about the cello playing, and I’ve never heard her say anything positive about it in her life.

  “Cello?” Griffon raises his eyebrows as if he’s adjusting a mental picture.

  I’m suddenly flustered and turn my face away from him, feeling overly exposed. “Yes, cello. Something wrong with that?”

  “No. It’s perfect,” he says. Perfect for what? I wonder.

  “You should invite him to the concert,” Kat says. She turns to him. “She’s been working nonstop on her solo. It’s kind of a big deal.”

  Griffon tilts his head toward me. “Do I get an invite?”

  My face must be about five shades of red as I answer. “Sure, I guess. If you really want to come. It’s next weekend. At the Northern California Conservatory. Near the park.” I can hear myself rambling, but am powerless to stop.

  “Well,” Kat says, scraping her chair back. “I’ve got to go.” Subtlety isn’t exactly her strong point.

  Griffon stands up partway. “Do you have to go too?” he asks me, actually sounding like he wants me to stay.

  I look up at the clock, knowing I should get home and finish the hours of homework and practice I have, but wanting desperately not to leave.

  Kat jumps in. “It’s Wednesday, and Mom doesn’t cook on Wednesdays. Tae Kwon Do night.” She glances at me. “So you miss a little practice time. Who’s going to know?”

  “Actually, I’m starving. Want to go and get something to eat?” he asks me. “I’ve got a couple of hours before I have to get back.”

  Despite the fact that I know he’s only trying t
o be nice, the thought of spending a few hours alone with him makes my heart race. It’s like I’ve been handed another chance, and I’m determined to keep my mouth shut and not go on like an idiot. “I’d like that,” I say, trying not to sound too grateful.

  We leave Kat at her car and continue down the street. It feels good to be walking next to Griffon—even though he’s a lot taller than I am, he matches his pace to mine so I don’t have to rush to catch up. I inch closer to him as we walk, barely into his personal space, but he doesn’t move away, just looks over at me and grins. The sidewalks are starting to get busy with the transition from daytime shoppers to people coming home from work. Rolldown doors clatter as the shop owners secure their stores for the night.

  “So, what’s good around here?” he asks. “I don’t get into the city very often.”

  “Yeah. Apparently you’ve only been here a few times,” I say, parroting his words at the café that day. I know that sounds bitchy, but I can’t help it. The mixed signals I’m getting from him are driving me crazy.

  Griffon looks embarrassed, which for some reason makes me happy. “Okay, slightly more than a few,” he admits. “Look, I’m sorry about that—”

  I wave the comment away like I don’t even care. Except I’m beginning to realize that I do care. I care a lot. “It’s okay,” I say. “You don’t have to explain.”

  “I do, though. I should have told you the truth about where I live. But you took off so quickly.” Griffon stops walking and stands in front of a gated flower shop, the faint smell of roses still hanging in the air. “Anyway, I knew I’d see you again.”

  I stop too and study his face, desperately wanting to believe him. “How? You don’t even know my last name.”

  “These things have a way of working out,” he says, like it’s no big deal. “And I knew that Owen would get your sister’s information.”

  “She might not have given it to him,” I say, although that’s a complete lie. Kat probably wrote her info in Sharpie across his hand before she left. “You don’t know my sister.”

  “True. But I do know Owen. He would have never let her get away.” Griffon flashes a quick smile, then looks around at the buildings on the block. “So, where should we eat?”

  Slowly I look around at the street signs and try to figure out where we are. Veronique’s boyfriend is Italian, and I’d overheard Mom asking her about a restaurant in North Beach that’s supposed to be nice and not too expensive. I mentally calculate how much money I have in my wallet and kick myself for not asking Kat for a twenty. “Do you like Italian?”

  “Sure.”

  “I think it’s just a couple of blocks this way,” I say, leading us around the busy corner.

  I find the place without any trouble, amazed that for once I actually remember the name of a restaurant. I can easily memorize all of the notes in an entire concerto, but usually mess up on little details like book titles and restaurant names. As Griffon reaches for the front door, his phone rings. He glances down at the display and then back to me. “I need to get this. Can you give me just a minute?”

  “Sure,” I say. “I’ll go inside and check on a table.”

  He smiles. “Thanks. I’ll be right there.” Griffon walks to the corner of the building and I hear him answer the call before I open the door and walk inside.

  As I stand waiting at the front desk, Veronique walks out of the dining room, speaking rapid Italian to a well-dressed man behind her. At least I think it’s Italian. I’m on my second year of Spanish II, so languages aren’t really my specialty.

  “Cole! What a coincidence!” she says in English.

  “Hey!” I say. “I heard you tell Mom about this place. We were just around the corner, so I thought we’d give it a try.”

  “Good choice. The sweetbreads are really good here.” She leans in and whispers to me. “They’re actually glands, but don’t let that put you off. According to the experts, that’s the sign of a superior Italian restaurant.” She indicates the man behind her. “Have you ever met my boyfriend, Giacomo?”

  He gives a smile and a little bow. I don’t know if it’s the fact that he’s Italian or what, but he seems a lot older than she is. “Very nice to meet you. I’ve heard wonderful things about your musical gifts. It is not often that one meets a true prodigy.”

  I look down at the worn burgundy carpet, glad that Griffon is outside. It’s always so embarrassing whenever anyone mentions cello in real life. “Thank you. And Veronique is doing really well.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Nice of you to say, but I think we all know the truth.” She looks around the front of the restaurant. “Are you here by yourself?”

  “No,” I say. “I’m with a … friend. He had to take a call outside.”

  Her eyebrows shoot up into her bangs. “Ooh! Boyfriend material? You’ve been holding out!”

  I wish. I wonder what it would be like to say that about him. To be able to introduce him to people as my boyfriend. To walk down the street holding his hand. “No. Just a friend.”

  “It’s always nice to start out as friends,” she says, giving me a suggestive look.

  I shrug, afraid that if I open my mouth I’ll give too much away.

  “Dobbiamo affrettarci,” Giacomo says, looking pointedly at his watch.

  “You’re right,” Veronique agrees. “We’re late. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

  “Yep. Usual time.”

  Griffon appears at the door just as they’re leaving, and Giacomo holds it open for him. I wave as they walk out into the darkness.

  “Who’s that?” he asks, glancing back through the window.

  “She’s one of my students,” I say. When he looks blank, I add, “One of my cello students. I teach private lessons at my house a couple of days a week. Veronique is my Thursday at four.”

  He laughs. “So the prodigy is also the teacher. Nice.”

  I make a face. “Not really. I just need the money.”

  “Maybe I can get a couple of lessons?”

  “You want to play cello?” I know I sound skeptical, but I can’t help it.

  “How do you know I haven’t always had a burning desire to learn? Maybe I’ve just been waiting for the right teacher.”

  “I might be able to figure something out,” I say as we’re led to our table, trying to suppress the thrill I feel at the thought of seeing him again.

  Five

  “I think,” Rayne says, “that you are in looove.”

  “I’m not in love,” I say, but there’s no way to stop the grin on my face. I can’t help but relive moments of last night over and over again during class. The only thing that would have been better is if he’d kissed me, or even held my hand as we waited for my bus. But I keep telling myself that there’s time for that. At least I hope there is. He didn’t exactly make a date or anything, but he said he’d see me soon. That’s almost the same thing, right?

  “Don’t sit there telling me you’re not into him. I know exactly what that look means.”

  I take a bite of my apple and look around the quad to make sure nobody else is listening. We’re sitting on our usual bench at lunch, which is too far from the tables to be overheard, as long as you keep your voice down. “I barely know him,” I say. “Besides, nothing happened.”

  “Nothing?” Rayne grins. “No hands brushing as you both reach for the door? No longing glances?”

  “What movies have you been watching?” I ask her. “No. We ate pasta, and then he walked me to the bus.” Not that I remembered anything about the restaurant. I could have been eating cardboard for all I’d been paying attention to the food. I look around the quad. “He’s not like the guys around here. Griffon’s different.”

  “Did he at least get your number?”

  “Yes,” I say, not admitting that I’d been checking my phone obsessively since last night.

  “Thank God.” Rayne picks at her bean salad and eyes my lunch bag. “Are you going to eat that?”

  I hand her m
y chocolate-chip cookie.

  “Hello, ladies,” Gabi says, sliding onto the bench next to Rayne. I haven’t seen her much since we got back. “You two only look like that when you’re talking about guys.”

  “Guy,” Rayne corrects. “A gorgeous one that Cole met over break.”

  “Ooh, gorgeous ones are the best kind.”

  “Okay, can we stop now?” I ask. The more we talk about it, the more anxious I feel. I unwrap my sandwich and try to change the subject. “How was your break?”

  Gabi rummages through her backpack for her lunch. “Boring,” she says. “My cousins are in from Mumbai, and we spent the whole time doing tourist stuff in the city. Alcatraz, Fisherman’s Wharf, Union Square. If I have to take one more picture in front of one more famous attraction, I’m going to be sick.”

  “Better than mine,” Rayne says. “We went camping up the coast, and I spent the entire time filthy and freezing.” She shivers at the memory. “Hey Cole, what kind of sandwich is that?” Rayne’s always on the prowl for something better than the sprouted-wheat and tofu creations her mother makes her.

  “Tuna. You want the other half?”

  “Um, no. I was reading the other day about how they’re overfishing tuna,” she says, looking sad.

  I chew slowly, getting ready to lose another favorite food. Rayne has a way of making you feel guilty for pretty much everything you put into your mouth. “It’s dolphin-safe,” I say hopefully.

  “Doesn’t matter anymore,” she says. “The tuna population is getting down so low that if nothing is done in five years, they’re going to disappear forever. Like the unicorns.”

  Gabi and I exchange glances. “Unicorns?” she asks.

  “Yeah,” Rayne replies. “You know—like how the cavemen hunted the unicorns until they went completely extinct.”

  I love Rayne, which is good, because sometimes she’s so gullible it’s scary. She’s an amazing artist, but totally clueless about real life.

  “Rayne,” I say softly. “You realize that there were no unicorns, right? They’re just a fairy tale.”