Falling Stars (Shooting Stars 5) - Page 86

"That was before I received this phone call," Howard said. He was a good actor. but not so good a liar. At least, that was what I thought,

When it was time to go. Cinnamon-- living the closest to New York-- became our titular travel guide. She hailed our cab at the corner and rattled off some of the places we passed.

"I haven't even walked on Fifth Avenue yet." Ice complained.

"We'll do it after we go to the zoo," Cinnamon promised her. "Window shopping is fun."

The taxi driver, at Rose's request, stopped in front of the world-famous Plaza Hotel. It was there we were supposed to meet Barry and his three college buddies. Less than a minute went by before another cab pulled up to the curb and they got out. Rose ran to Barn; and they hugged. The three of us watched, all of us smiling softly as they kissed.

"Let's all get introduced." Barry declared, realizing everyone was standing around watching him and Rose. He was a tall, dark-haired boy, easily six foot one and very good-looking, with a real mature air about him. I could see why Rose was so fond of him. He was someone upon whom she could lean, someone she really needed. But equally obvious to me was his devotion to her. He seemed unable to turn his eyes from her, to stop holding her hand, to move another inch away. Chandler and I were like that. I thought.

With Barry were Larry Martin, Reuben Kotein. and Tony Gibson. Larry was taller than Barry and very lean. We quickly learned he was a star on the basketball team and had been nicknamed Hoop when he was only twelve. He lumbered along when he walked, and seemed incapable of passing a garbage basket without rolling up something and tossing it in. He came from Jersey City, where he had been a basketball star in his high school. He seemed awkward and shy around girls, and maybe for that reason gravitated toward Ice, who still had a very quiet way about her. It was easy to see how he was trying to impress her from time to time with a leap or a turn to throw something into a basket.

Reuben Kotein wasn't much taller than Cinnamon. He was a dark complected boy with very deep hazel eyes, a wide forehead, short brown hair, and a firm, athletic build. Of the three, he was the most introspective, and because of the way his forehead went into small folds, looked like he was thinking something profound all the time. His slightly sarcastic tone immediately attracted Cinnamon, and before long they were sharing comments and reviews about people they saw on the street. Reuben created a game for them: guessing about people, their pasts, their personalities, from the way they walked and were dressed. Then they turned it into deciding what animal each person would be if they were changed into one.

Tony Gibson was by far the handsomest of the group. He was as good-looking as Howard, but without Howard's arrogant eyes and demeanor, which to me made his attractiveness a waste. The girl Howard eventually chose had to be willing not only to love him, but worship him.

Tony's personality was light, carefree, and so unassuming, it was as though he had no idea how good-looking he was or cared. It was easy to be relaxed with him, even for someone like me who kept thinking about her boyfriend and how this simple little walk in the park was somehow a betrayal.

He came from Rhode Island, where he said he did a lot of sailing, which explained his deep tan, a shade that emphasized his cerulean eyes and sparkling white teeth. He told me the sea was in his blood, even to the point where he wanted a career in maritime law.

"Girls I've kissed," he said. "tell me I have the saltiest lips."

He smiled coyly. and I heard a small alarm go off inside me. First, it was warning me how attracted I was to him, bu

t then it was also suggesting his carefree, almost aloof approach was possibly a good act or technique. There were surprises, not only in what he said and how his soft eyes often turned deeper and more intense when he looked into mine, but by the way he suddenly managed to find my hand or touch my shoulder to take me away from the others, ostensibly to see something he had just discovered.

"I understand you play the violin," he said. "Really well, too." "I hope I'm good. I'm working hard at it."

"I bet you are goad. I hope to hear you play someday."

"I hope so. too," I said. but I meant in a place like Carnegie Hall.

He smiled as if I had agreed to go to bed with him. "Have you ever been on a sail boat?" he asked. "No."

"I can take you sailing sometime. A friend of my father's has a boat docked at the seaport. What about next weekend?" he followed so quickly, he nearly took away my breath.

"I can't," I said. "That's our big weekend at the school. We have family and friends coming to the Performance Night."

"Oh. Well, we'll try for another date," he said. "I'll call you, if that's okay."

"Let's catch up with the others," I told him instead of committing and walked quickly toward them.

We had a lot of fun with the monkeys, fed the ducks, and then found a restaurant near Lincoln Center and had pizza. The truth was I had never been out with a group like this, everyone so carefree and exuberant. The magnificent fall day with a nearly cloudless blue sky kept our faces bright with smiles. Here I was, sitting just across the street from the world-famous theater in what everyone agreed was the most exciting city in the world. All of our dreams and ambitions did seem within our grasp, Depression and defeat were things of the past.

The energy that came from our laughter and conversation made me feel drunk on life itself. We would all become stars. Maybe someday we'd all share an apartment in New York and have elegant clothes and go to sophisticated restaurants. Our pictures would be taken frequently. People would hover about us, clamoring for our autographs. The day was going so well. I no longer felt nervous and constantly on guard.

Then Barry and Rose revealed they were heading back to his fraternity house. Ice, who wanted to walk Fifth Avenue, was going there with Larry. and Cinnamon and Reuben had decided to go to the YMCA to hear a poet they both were familiar with who was doing a reading.

"What do you want to do, Honey?" Rose asked me.

"I think head back to the school," I said.

"That sounds so boring. You can come along with us if you like," she suggested, obviously hoping I would refuse.

"No, I'm fine," I said.

"We can walk." Tony suaaested. "It's a great day for it, and it's not really all that far."

Tags: V.C. Andrews Shooting Stars Horror
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