Flicker (9 page)

              And yet, for the first time in years, when Elise tried to curve her mouth into the mirror-perfected smile she could wear on command, it wouldn't come. Instead, a tiny sob shook her shoulders, and she quickly squeezed her eyes shut, bearing down on her emotions. She had to keep everything locked tightly inside-- it was the only way to get through the day.

              “Better for both of us,” she said when she could speak without her voice shaking. Once she was sure her face was composed, she raised her chin, shaking her hair back and turning to him. “Look, Alex, I told you before-- I'm ugly. You don't want to get mixed up with me, with my life. It's bad for you, and it'll let all sorts of things out that are bad for me, too.”

              In a movement so fast it was blurred to her, Alex reached out and grabbed her hand, and Elise had to stop herself from jerking back. “Little girl,” he said, that trace of an accent she couldn't place back in his voice. “I have seen things you could never imagine, and done things you don't even want to think about. Give me a few days to ensure my information, and I will answer all your questions, and more. But don't ever say that you are ugly, or that you could hurt me. The former is not, and could never be correct; the latter isn't for you to decide.”

              Transfixed, she gazed into his deep blue eyes, recalling the first day she'd met him, when she felt like he was piercing her with his gaze, opening her up and looking into her soul. The fervor with which he spoke gave the impression that he was driving the words straight into her mind, giving her no choice but to believe. Finally, she nodded, acquiescing quietly to his point. He gave her a small smile.

              “So, I didn't ask,” he said casually, tactfully releasing her. “What on earth were you doing in my lunch? Aren't you supposed to be in class right now?”

              Her laugh was a little bitter. “Yeah, I cut prob and stats class to come looking for you. I thought I'd visit you, since you were kind enough to come see me yesterday.” As they spoke, she turned and began to walk slowly away from the school, toward the park at the end of the road.

              Alex kept pace as he raised an eyebrow at her. “I guess this means you aren't avoiding me anymore?” Elise felt a blush rise into her cheeks again as she shrugged.

              “Not so much, I guess.” She looked down, then met his eyes with a sheepish smile that didn't quite cover the remnants of her bitterness from last night. “My parents informed me yesterday that they don't, in fact, trust me in the least. And as I'm tired of exhausting myself trying to prove them wrong, I decided I may as well lower myself to meet their expectations.” She laughed again, a short, choked sound. “We see how well that worked out.” Once more, she saw his hand twitch towards hers, as if he was longing to reach out and comfort her.

              “You'll be all right,” he said, smiling softly. “You'd be surprised how little people will remember of that scene earlier. Besides,” he changed the subject. “Give your parents a chance. Most likely, they're feeling their way right now as blindly as you are, but more often than not, it turns out later that they're right.”

              Elise raised her eyebrows archly at his preaching. “Are you speaking from experience, oh wise one?” She demanded sarcastically.

              “Oh, hell no,” he laughed. “I've just had to listen to my cousin talk often enough about how his parents were right after all-- I guess some of it rubbed off.”

              Elise rolled her eyes. “Well, if you think parents are so easy to get along with, you should meet mine.”

              He laughed harder. “I didn't exactly say it was easy.” Then he sobered abruptly. “But I'll take you up on that offer.”

              Elise whirled to look him dead in the eyes. “That's not funny!”

              “I'm not joking,” he said, then shrugged. “Look, it makes sense. If they're so worried about us being friends, why don't I meet them so they can interrogate me themselves? It might get them off your back faster,” he reasoned.

              She glowered at him for a moment, then sighed. “Maybe you're right. I haven't had a friend since we moved here, so I'm not exactly sure how they'll react, but hey, if you think you can take it...”

              Alex chuckled again, his momentary seriousness masked by amusement. “Trust me, I've dealt with worse than a few irate parents.” His voice was thick with barely contained mirth as he added, “Besides, it's not like I'm asking their permission to marry you.”

              Elise shot him a withering glare. “Don't even joke about that,” she growled, and he held his hands up in mock surrender. “Okay, fine,” she rolled her eyes. “But give me a day to prep them. Tomorrow for dinner?”

              He put his hand over his heart somberly. “I wouldn't miss it, milady.” Elise reflected that if she kept rolling her eyes, maybe her mother would be right and they really would get stuck that way.

              The doorbell rang at precisely five in the evening, and Elise went to answer it, trying to ignore the fluttering in her stomach and the way her hands trembled just a bit as she reached for the knob. Of all the ridiculous things to be nervous about-- but of course, she had never brought a boy home to meet her parents before. She supposed she had a right.

              She opened the door and there he was, with his night-black hair combed neatly out of his heartbreaking blue eyes and his polo shirt and khakis neatly pressed, looking amazingly clean-cut and harmless, the picture of any parent's dream. For a moment, her heart was in her throat, and her mouth was dry-- perhaps it was because he was dressed up, or perhaps she had just forgotten, somehow, how devastatingly handsome he was. Wordlessly, she stepped back, gesturing for him to come inside. He flashed her a grin as he brushed past her.

              “You look lovely, Elise,” he murmured, and chucked at her blush. She had taken a risk with her attire this evening, donning a calf-length sundress she'd dug out of the back of her closet in place of her usual layered skirts. Although she knew the cerulean blue dress with its bateau neckline and swirling skirt flattered her, she felt exposed without the volume of a petticoat or two to keep the curves of her legs from showing. She was briefly amused at the extremely antiquated notion.

              “Thanks,” she replied quietly, trying her best to return his carefree smile. “You clean up pretty well, too.” It was interesting, and definitely different, seeing him standing here in her foyer. She imagined most kids would probably be shy and a little nervous going to someone else's home for the first time-- she knew she would be-- but of course, Alex looked perfectly comfortable. She turned, wincing as her dress flared and clung up the length of her thigh and back, displaying far more of her figure than she would have liked-- she was definitely never wearing this again-- and led him from the foyer through the dining room and into the kitchen.

              “Oh, Elise, here you are.” Marie's greeting was overly perky as she looked up from the broccoli steaming on the stove, on which she had been focusing with unnecessary intensity. Elise suppressed a snort at her mother's transparent attempt to be casual. The woman was clearly even more on edge than Elise was, a thought that actually helped Elise relax-- at least she wasn't the most nervous person here.

              “Mom, this is my friend, Alex Mercer,” she introduced him, emphasizing the word 'friend.' There was no need to let this little interlude continue her mother's misconception that their relationship was anything else.

              “Mrs. Whitfield, you have a lovely home,” Alex greeted Marie with a brilliant smile.

              “Oh!” Marie exclaimed, instantly charmed and a little flustered. “Why, thank you, Alex. Please, make yourself comfortable-- dinner will be ready in just a few more minutes. I hope you like pork chops?”

              “I love them,” he assured her. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

              “Suck up,” Elise muttered under her breath, and giggled when she felt his elbow nudge her ribs.

              “So! This is Elise's new friend?” A booming voice from behind them made Elise spin, though she'd been expecting her father's dramatically staged entrance-- he'd been lurking in the study on the other side of the foyer for precisely this reason. There he was, right on schedule, looming in the doorway from the dining room in a way she was sure he thought was impressively patriarchal. She had to resist the urge to roll her eyes again.

              “Yes, dad, this is Alex. He was just offering to help mom with dinner.” Alex shook her father's hand solemnly.

              “It's good to meet you, sir,” he said gravely as Robert looked him over. It was painfully obvious to Elise that the man didn't know what to make of her newly revived social life. She saw him exchange a glance with her mother, who smiled brightly.

              “Elise, dear, would you put those potatoes on the table, please? And make sure the places are set properly.” Elise did as she was bid, her mouth twitching at her parents' antics. Between Marie's sugary-sweet housewife routine and Robert's manly-man mannerisms, she felt like she was in an episode of a 1950's sitcom. She glanced back at Alex as she folded the rarely-used cloth napkins with military precision, and as their eyes met she had to stop herself from giggling again. She quickly looked away, biting back a snort that she was sure wouldn't help her parents' nerves.

              A few minutes later, the four of them were seated around the dining room table, which was polished until it shone (it had taken Elise almost half an hour to get the smell off her hands) and piled with a few of her mother's Best Family Recipes for Special Occasions. She avoided catching Alex's eye again while her father said grace, instead keeping her head bowed soberly to avoid the danger of bursting into laughter. She wasn't sure how much of the impulse to erupt in hysterical giggles was her amusement at her parents' tension, and how much of it was a reaction to her own nerves being stretched so tight.

              “Amen,” Robert said firmly, and as he reached for the broccoli dish, the interrogation began. “So, Alexander, what brings you to Willowdale? Elise tells us you've just moved here.”

              Elise really did roll her eyes at her father's nerve, a little irked that he didn't even make an attempt at small talk before jumping straight into grilling her friend. Alex answered calmly, though, and she was glad that his unflappable composure extended to parental interviews. “My father's in the Air Force, and he was transferred to a post in Spain at the beginning of the summer. I used to go with him when he moved duty stations, but since it's my senior year my uncle offered to let me live with him so I could finish school in the states. His house is over by the Methodist Church on Sheridan Street.”

              Robert nodded, pleased-- as a former lieutenant in the Army, he tended to approve of anyone with military in his background. But Elise knew better than to hope that the questioning would end there.

              “Where did you live before?” Marie chimed in right on time. Elise wondered if they'd rehearsed this after she'd told them yesterday that she'd invited Alex to dinner. She wasn't too annoyed with them, really-- more exasperated. They were out of practice when it came to dealing with their daughter's friends, so she was trying to cut them some slack for coming off like they'd learned to parent by watching TV.

              “I've lived all over,” Alex said nonchalantly. “But I spent the last three years in Florida while my dad was at Pensacola.”

              Elise's dad perked up. “Oh, military intelligence?” He asked, an eyebrow raised.

              Alex flashed him a small, apologetic smile. “I'm sorry, I really can't say.” Robert leaned back, looking impressed.

              Elise considered jumping into the conversation in an attempt to save him from her parents, but decided to wait for the time being. After all, Alex wasn't exactly floundering-- quite the opposite: he actually seemed amused, and was certainly fielding the questions with grace-- and although she would never admit it out loud, Elise was glad of the chance to find out more about his background without actually having to be the one to ask him.

              “What about your mother? Did she move with your dad?” Marie asked, and Elise realized that perhaps she ought to have jumped in after all. She and Alex hadn't really discussed his family, but she'd noticed that he'd avoided mentioning his mother while speaking about his father just now, and knew Alex well enough to be able to tell he'd tried to gracefully avoid the subject.

              “Mom!” Elise cried, forcing a laugh in an attempt to break any tension she might cause by cutting Marie off. “You can't just ask people about their mothers!”

              “Why on earth not?” Marie demanded obliviously. “It's a perfectly reasonably question, Elise. Honestly.”

              Alex smiled at Elise gently. “It's all right, Elise; don't worry about it. My mother is no longer with us, Mrs. Whitfield. She passed away several years ago.” She knew neither of her parents would catch it, but Elise saw his eyes go flat and his face close off for just a moment as he said it, and kicked herself for not heading her mother off better.

              Marie, meanwhile, looked like she might burst into tears. “Oh, Alex, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to pry.”

              Alex was still smiling, and Elise saw her mother relax just a bit as he held her gaze for a second longer than perhaps he needed to. “It really is fine,” he said. “I think of her often.”