Maybe she was right.
Maybe I should be doing nothing else but that.
“I lied about his eyes,” I said. “They were definitely not tinted contacts.”
She widened her smile.
“And I could think of nothing else but filling them only with me.”
It was like magic. Our laughter was like music. It was going to be a fun night after all.
All dark thoughts fell helplessly away. We couldn’t get enough of each other’s intimate dreams and wishes.
And all because of Ryder Garfield.
But I also sensed a note of caution in the air. This might not make every day Christmas.
Be careful, I told my heart. You have seen enough disappointment and tragedy to fill the life of someone four times your age.
But I knew that hearts are never cautious. It’s not their job to be cautious.
3
Gossip
Unfortunately, as she often did, Kiera called me after midnight. I was more upset than usual because she broke into a dream I was having about Ryder Garfield. In it, he revealed that he knew everything about my past. He was whispering to me in class without looking in my direction.
“My father is talking about having a movie made about you and your mother. You have to tell me everything in great detail,” he said. “We’ll have to spend lots of time talking . . . alone.”
Then, as he turned to me in my dream, the phone rang, and I was snatched out of my deep sleep. I hated the sound of the phone at that moment and glared at it, but I didn’t want it to keep ringing. It might wake Jordan.
She hadn’t returned home until after Jessica’s mother came to pick her up. Her mother was disappointed that Jordan wasn’t there and was a little annoyed with me when she asked where she had gone and I had to tell her I really didn’t know.
“Well, isn’t Donald away? Did he come back earlier than expected?”
“No, he’s still away,” I said.
“Well, I wish she would have called me. I wasn’t doing anything special tonight,” she muttered.
Jessica’s mother was a dark-haired woman at least fifteen or so pounds overweight for her five-foot-five frame. I had been to Jessica’s house often enough to know that her mother was someone who was interested in everyone else’s life more than she was interested in her own. Even Jessica admitted that her mother could write the Pacifica parents’ gossip column.
“Tell me about this new student,” Kiera said the moment I said hello. “Is he as good-looking as his father?”
“Kiera, it’s nearly twelve-thirty! I’m half awake, if that. Do you have to call so late all the time?”
“You sleep too much anyway. Well? Tell me.”
“Yes, he’s just as good-looking, if not better-looking.”
“Better? Maybe I graduated too soon.”
“Why? I thought you were falling in love.”
“Did you read my last e-mail?”
Despite how sleepy I was, I still managed to blush recalling the details of the lovemaking she had correctly described as gymnastic.
“Yes, I read it.”