Seeing Shadows (4 page)

"Sarah!" I groaned. "Shut it!"

"What?" Jenny exclaimed, her eyes widening. "I didn't know you could sing, let alone play the piano." She laughed. "You'll learn, Simon. You'll think you know Caitlin and bam - she surprises you. I've known her since freshman year and she's still surprising me."

"Is that so?" Simon said, cocking his eyebrow at me as he leaned closer. "What other talents are you hiding?"

"Wow," I said, abruptly standing up. "Talk about exaggeration. I'm passable at playing the piano and I don't think anyone wants to hear me sing. I forgot my glass of wine in the kitchen. Does anyone want anything?"

Without waiting for a reply, I walked to the kitchen, setting my plate down on the counter. I was feeling unsettled now for an entirely different reason. Simon's proximity was making me squirm. When he leaned over, an arm draped around the back of the recliner, he was intoxicatingly close as I breathed him in, his cologne smelling way too good. His warmth was making me feel as if I was burning up. And seeing his muscled biceps straining against the sleeves of his t-shirt as he ate was making my stomach feel funny. Every look at Simon's face was making me more and more aware of how unfairly gorgeous he was, with his brown hair falling on his forehead and his perfectly high cheekbones somehow complementing an unequivocally masculine face.

The flashes of Simon's horrified expression in my vision were slowly fading away from the forefront of my mind when I looked at him, but my attraction to him was supremely unwelcome as well. I had avoided dating because that meant letting people in. Something I wasn't planning on doing. Especially with someone who had been in one of my visions. Besides, Simon was way too comfortable with his own charm and good looks. I'm sure he was probably used to girls falling at his feet. Well, I wouldn't be one of them.

With that determined mindset, I walked back into the living room.

"What should we do tonight?" asked Jenny.

"Maybe we should go to the East End. Or just hang out here," Sarah replied.

"Let's go to the East End," Grant said. "I could go for a few rounds of pool."

"Yeah, let's go," Jenny chimed in. "I need a night out to get over the horrors of my physics exam."

"Why don't you guys go ahead," I said, propping my weight on the back of Sarah's chair with my hands. My previous seat on the recliner was wide open but there was no way I was going back there, so close to Simon. "I have to work tomorrow morning so I just want an early night in."

Sarah turned around in her seat. "No way! You've gotta come. At least for a few drinks."

"Sarah," I said, "I don't want to be dragging tomorrow at Colette's."

Colette's was the French cafe that I worked at, although the only thing that made it French were the croissants and the owner's insistence that it was French. It was more a diner than anything else but the owner, Colleen, insisted on calling it a cafe. Colleen also insisted on wearing a beret and had initially tried to make her employees wear berets as well, but we had all revolted. Colleen had opened up Colette's years ago and it was now an institution at Rochester for students and locals alike. Colleen had named the cafe after herself. The French version of herself, anyways. Ironically, Colleen had never even been to France.

"Come on," urged Jenny. "Please! Just go for a few drinks. Not enough to be hung over."

"Where's your glass of wine?" his deep voice asked.

"Huh?" I asked. I then looked down at my empty hands. I had forgotten that I had used the excuse of getting my glass of wine for going into the kitchen and escaping his close proximity. "Oh, uh...I drank it."

"That means you're ready for another," Simon replied with a grin. "Let me buy you one at the bar."

"No thanks," I snapped. "I'm not a big drinker."

Sarah creased her forehead, examining me closely. She was probably wondering why my reaction was so out of proportion with Simon being nice. But the way he said it didn't seem nice. It seemed...too personal. I didn't want him to have any expectations.

"I promise I'll get you home at a decent hour," Marcus said, giving me a small smile. "I need to get up early too for soccer practice." Marcus played in a club soccer league, although besides practicing they didn't seem to do much else. They only played other teams once every couple of months.

I felt everyone's eyes on me, which made me extremely uncomfortable. One particular set of blue eyes made me the most uncomfortable but I refused to look in their direction.

I threw up my hands in defeat with a sigh. "Fine, I'll go. There's only so much peer pressure a girl can take. I feel like I'm in an after school special."

"Yay!" squealed Sarah. "I feel like getting a little crazy tonight."

Grant checked his watch. "It's pretty early. Why don't we head down there around nine-thirty since some of us are making it an early night? We've still got a while and I hear the spaghetti calling my name again. You make a mean meat sauce, Caitlin."

"Hey," Sarah protested. "How do you know Caitlin made it? It could've been me."

Grant laughed, "Because I've tasted your cooking."

"Sarah's made really good cookies before," defended Jenny. She turned to Sarah. "What were they again? There were like pretzels and stuff in it."

Sarah pouted. "Those were Caitlin's garbage cookies."

I called them my garbage cookies because I threw tons of stuff in it, like pretzels, peanuts, toffee and anything else that sounded good and I had on hand. Each batch was a little different.

"She licked the spoon though," I joked. "Oh, and she cracked the eggs." I didn't mention that Sarah had to crack double the amount of eggs I needed because half of the time she crushed them in the process and got so much shell in the bowl that it was easier just to crack another egg.

"I'll have to try these garbage cookies sometime," Simon said, patting his stomach. "I'm a sucker for anything sweet, especially cookies."

"Oh, I haven't made them in a long time. I'll probably never make them again," I said emphatically. A little irrationally, I had to admit.

Simon burst out laughing, not the reaction I was going for. "I'm sure I can convince you to make them again," he said with a sly grin.

Sarah poked me in the side. "You're being weird," she announced.

Thanks. Thanks a lot
,
Sarah
, I thought.
Traitor.

"She's weird a lot," Jenny chirped. Another traitor. "That's her charm. You'll get used to it, Simon."

"I'm looking forward to it," Simon replied, looking at me for the first time with no humor or laughter. He just locked his eyes with mine and I felt that squirming in my stomach again. Suddenly I saw a flash of his face crumpled with agony. I looked away quickly, banishing the memory of my vision.

"You guys are the weird ones," I murmured in protest, trying to clear my head.

"Well, this weirdo is getting more spaghetti," Grant said, getting up and heading over to the table. This broke up the talk about weirdness and everyone settled back into an easy conversation.

The next hour was spent filling Simon in on all the gossip about Maxwell University, including who was dating whom, who was sleeping with whom, and which professors were the worst. I participated in the conversation, forcing myself to smile and talk easily. The more I forced myself, the more natural it felt. I could do this. Simon was just another guy. Visions and suggestive comments aside, he seemed like someone I could be friends with. He was funny and definitely easy to look at. And just because it seemed like he was flirting with me didn't mean anything. Simon seemed like the type to flirt with everyone and it would be a mistake to take it to heart.

I decided that Simon and I were going to be friends. It wasn't as if I could ignore him. He was Grant's cousin, he was living downstairs at the moment and was now a member of the band. The five of us had our lives intertwined, spending most of our free time together. We had been a tight group since the beginning of our junior year. Simon would just be the sixth member of our group. A friend, nothing more.

With that settled, I found myself laughing a little easier, taking Simon's jokes as just that - jokes. If he looked at me a little too often and for a little too long, I pretended not to notice.

Around nine-thirty we headed down to the East End. It was only a five minute walk from our apartment, but the October chill made the walk seem longer. I lagged behind the group with Sarah.

"Is everything okay?" she asked, with a concerned look on her face. "All joking aside, you
are
acting a little weird."

"I'm fine, Sarah, really," I assured her. "It's just been a long week."

"Okay," Sarah said, not looking convinced. "It's not...it doesn't have anything to do with...you know. Does it?"

I forced a laugh. "No, it's nothing like that. Seriously, I'm just a little tired. I'll only stay at the East End for a little bit and then go home and go to bed. I'll be fine tomorrow."

"Okay..." Sarah said, not seeming to completely accept my excuse. "But if you're not telling me something, I'm gonna be mad."

I ignored her warning and grabbed her arm. "Hey, we're here. Come on." I dragged her to catch up with the group and greeted Charlie, the bouncer at the bar. He was at his usual stance just outside the door.

"Hi Charlie," I said smiling. "Glad to see you're dressed for the weather, as usual." No matter the season, Charlie always wore a white short-sleeved t-shirt. I'd seen him standing there all night in the snow with nothing but a t-shirt and jeans, seemingly impervious to the cold. He was tall and heavily muscled. Maybe all his muscles kept him warm.

"This is nothing, honey," Charlie replied with an easy grin. "I would take my shirt off if Joel would let me get away with it."

The guys fist bumped Charlie, or whatever it is that guys greet each other with, while Jenny, Sarah and I gave him a hug. The East End was like a second home since we spent so much time there, especially Grant and Marcus who spent a lot of time practicing there during the daytime. Charlie already seemed to know Simon and I reminded myself that even though we had just met him tonight, he had arrived a couple of days ago and they had already spent some time practicing at the East End.

We filed in, relieved to be in the warmth of the bar. There were already a good amount of people inside, although it was still early. We headed over to an empty table and settled in, taking off our coats and draping them on the back of our chairs. The East End had a coat check, but it was never really in use unless the guys were playing, since it got packed to the walls then.

The East End was a large bar, with a decent-sized stage in the back. Booths lined the walls and tables were spread out, although they were pushed back when the stage was in use to make a standing area in front. There was a separate game room, with pool tables, dart boards and video games. Music was being piped in, but not to a level where you couldn't have a conversation. It was a great venue for a band and had enough room to house the Henchmen fans that went crazy during their shows.

I wondered how receptive they would be to a new member. There had been lots of complaints about the lack of shows since the departure of Mike and Abe. I glanced over at Simon, who was laughing about something with Jenny. Who was I kidding? There was no way the fans wouldn't eat up Simon, especially the girls, no matter what he sounded like. And I knew Grant was serious enough about the band that he wouldn't let Simon join just because they were related. Simon had to be good.

Just then, Simon turned to look at me. Embarrassed that I had been caught staring at him, I quickly turned away and spoke to Sarah, who was sitting beside me.

"Seriously, only a couple of drinks and I'm leaving," I warned in a low voice. "I'm telling you now because I don't want you twisting my arm later, trying to make me stay."