Читать книгу Mania - Craig Larsen - Страница 12

Impossibly, Sara was even more beautiful than Nick remembered her.

He spotted her from the passenger seat as Sam navigated his new BMW through traffic. She stood out from the crowd at the bus stop downtown where he had arranged to pick her up, tall and slender, dressed in jeans and a short, shiny leather jacket. Her long blond hair was tangled slightly in a scarf laced with a metallic wool weave. Nick was aware of the look on his brother’s face when he pointed her out to him. Sam didn’t say a word, but simply stared at her.

Nick pulled the latch and jumped from the car, stepping up onto the red-painted curb to greet her. When their eyes met, he could barely contain his excitement.

Sara, though, hardly seemed to notice him. She was distracted by the sight of another driver. “I thought you’d be coming alone,” she said. “Who’s this?”

“It’s my brother, Sam.”

Sara squinted, trying to get a better view into the car.

“My car broke down. Sam offered to give us a ride.”

Waiting for her to turn back toward him, Nick watched, inexplicably shaken, his hands icy cold, as Sam and Sara peered at one another through the slightly tinted windshield.

Nick had been balling his hands into tight fists. It was only when he loosened his fingers that he realized how cold he was. Midnight in January in Madison, Wisconsin, the dead of a Midwestern winter. There were no streets anymore in the rural neighborhood, only gingerbread houses sagging beneath the weight of a heavy snowfall. The air was still. It was so quiet Nick could hear the muffled sound of snow dropping from branches and eaves blocks away.

I can’t watch TV with you, Nick. I don’t want to. Elizabeth Munroe’s voice rang in his ears. There’s a dance tonight. At Visitation.

Earlier that day, Nick had crossed the lawn separating his house from the Munroes’. Elizabeth Munroe had been waiting for him on her front porch. In his right hand, shoved into the pocket of his heavy parka, Nick was clutching a silver chain he had bought for Elizabeth the weekend before. At four o’clock, the sun was already disappearing from the low, heavy sky, throwing orange shadows across Elizabeth’s face. Nick considered the seventeen-year-old girl in front of him, aware of how warm the silver chain had become in his hand. He understood that this random moment was a turning point. I’ll go with you to the dance, then, he said.

Elizabeth’s eyes dropped from Nick’s. I’ve already asked someone else.

Who?

Elizabeth hesitated. That doesn’t matter, does it?

Nick wanted to protest. He wanted to remind her that they were boyfriend and girlfriend. But he couldn’t speak the words. Is this really what you want? he asked her weakly instead.

I’ve got to go, she said. I’ve got to get ready.

Nick let the silver chain slide out of his hand to the bottom of his pocket. He crossed the snow-covered lawn back to his house and lay down on his bed. Dropping onto his bed still in his school clothes, he fell asleep before dinner, ignoring the shout from his mother when it was time to eat. At ten it began to snow heavily. Nick had gotten into bed with his window wide open, and thick flakes of snow came swirling into his room, melting into the air as they met the heat.

Nick woke up in a sweat before midnight. His parents had already gone to sleep for the night, and the house was completely dark. He bundled up into his jacket and scarf and gloves, then trudged across the lawns separating his house from the Munroes’ next door. The lights were still on downstairs. When he saw Elizabeth’s mother cross through the foyer from the living room into the kitchen, he screwed up his courage and climbed the steps to the front door. Elizabeth’s mother shielded her eyes as she peered outside to see who was ringing the bell so late. She smiled when she flicked on the light. She had always liked Nick.

“Elizabeth’s not back yet,” she said to him, glancing at her wristwatch. “I thought maybe she was out with you.”

“No.” Nick avoided her eyes.

“I don’t know when she’s getting back. It is Friday night.” She stood with the door in her hand, scrutinizing Nick. “You’re welcome to come in and wait for a while if you’d like.”

“That’s okay.” Nick tried to conceal his embarrassment.

“I’ll tell her you stopped by.”

Nick walked back down the steps, then crossed the lawns again, retracing his tracks. He sat down on the short set of stairs that ascended the swell in the lawn halfway between his family’s house and the curb, in the shelter of two tall birch trees, hunching forward, trying to stay warm. Heavy snowflakes tumbled down toward him through the black sky, accumulating in a thin layer as powdery as baking soda. Time passed slowly, and Nick managed to forget about the cold until he loosened his fingers and then curled them back into fists, and sharp needles of pain shot through his fingertips.

Sometime after midnight, the night’s silence was broken by the sound of an approaching engine. When the car was a block away, Nick recognized it as the Munroes’. Elizabeth had gotten her license the year before when she turned sixteen. Nick pushed himself forward a little on the stairs, readying himself to confront her. He had no idea what he was going to say. All night long he had been looking forward to this moment. Now that it was here, though, he was awash in confusion.

When the car crawled through the thick snow in front of Nick’s house, he realized with a shock that someone was sitting with Elizabeth. She hadn’t come home alone. Nick watched the car as it slid sideways to a stop. His eyes were trained on the passenger door, waiting for it to open so that he could see who it was.

The door remained shut. Inside the car, the two black silhouettes merged into one. Nick realized that Elizabeth and her date were locked together in a kiss. He felt tears sting his eyes. He wanted to turn and to run back into his house. He remained frozen where he was, waiting.

At last, the passenger door swung open, and the dim yellow light flickered on inside. Nick’s heart leapt as its glow fell across the face of the person who had been kissing Elizabeth.

He watched Sam step from the car.

“Nick?” Nick was hardly aware of the pressure of Sara’s hand on his shoulder. She was shaking him, and Nick was looking back at her, into her eyes. He wasn’t focusing on her, though. The voice speaking his name seemed to be coming at him from a huge distance, resonating toward him like the sound of a stone being thrown against the walls of a long, narrow tunnel. “Nick? Are you okay?”

Nick blinked a few times, then at last brought Sara into focus. The cacophony of the traffic blared in his ears. He was surprised to find himself in downtown Seattle. He had felt so deeply transported back to Madison, he was disoriented.

“Are you okay?” Sara asked again. She didn’t try to hide her concern.

“Hmmm?”

“You were in a trance.”

When Nick smiled, her face melted into a genuine smile, too. Nick felt her fingers, cold in the late afternoon, sliding into his own. She drew herself into him, and he could smell the clean scent of her lipstick. Once again, as he recovered himself, his excitement overwhelmed him.

“Let’s just pretend your brother’s not here,” she said. “It’s good to see you. I’ve been thinking about you all day. I wanted to be alone with you—so that I wouldn’t feel self-conscious when I did this.” The movement toward him was so graceful that Nick had the impression that it was in slow motion. Her cheeks were cool. Her lips, though, were warm. Her hands squeezed his even tighter. Unexpectedly, she stood up onto her toes and, closing her eyes, kissed him, almost furtively. Nick hesitated, and then he was kissing her back.

The dull, hollow sound of a drum beating resolved itself into the sound of Sam rapping the windshield with his knuckles. Reluctantly, Nick drew himself back from Sara, aware of his brother’s impatience inside the car. A bus, Nick realized, had pulled up behind the BMW, and Sam needed to get out of its way. “We’d better go,” he said.

Sara didn’t let go of his hands. He had to pull away to open the front door for her. On his way into the backseat, he turned to look at the bus. The driver was looking back at him, an annoyed but envious look on his face.

“I hope this isn’t out of your way,” Sara was saying to Sam as Nick closed the door behind him. “It’s not much fun driving downtown at rush hour.”

“My name is Sam,” he said, introducing himself.

“Nick told me.” Sara twisted around in her seat and looked into Nick’s eyes as Sam began accelerating from the curb. “You’re his older brother. Sam.” She flashed Nick a smile, then turned to Sam. “You didn’t have to do this,” she said to him flatly. “We could just as easily have walked.”

“It’s only a few minutes driving.”

Sara’s leather jacket squeaked against the new leather of the seat as she turned back toward Nick once again. “You could almost be twins. The two of you look so much alike.”

“Sam’s three years older than I am,” Nick offered.

“And a few inches taller,” Sam said, glancing at Sara. Nick noticed his eyes widen as he faced her.

“And he drives a better car, I take it.” Sara laughed playfully. The small note of mockery in her voice wasn’t lost on Nick. Her hand found his knee. “Lucky I don’t care about things like that. I know what I want when I see it.”

In the rearview mirror, Nick was aware of the deflated look that crossed Sam’s face. Sara’s fingers were teasing his thigh. Stifling the confusion of pride and panic welling inside his chest, he shifted forward and took her hand in his own, shy of taunting his older brother.

The streets were crowded with traffic, but it was flowing smoothly, and they circled down to the ferry landing on the waterfront a couple of minutes later.