Avalon High Part 15

"I am half sick of shadows," said

The Lady of Shalott.

Marco never got to finish his sentence. Because Lance, without Will to hold him back, flung himself at Marco with all his might. The two of them crashed to the deck of the Pride Winn with enough force to cause the boat to lurch. I had to grab on to some rigging to keep from falling overboard at the impact of their bodies.

By the time I righted myself, Lance had managed to subdue Marco. All it took, apparently, was a single blow to the face. Marco lay in a ball, moaning.

I can't say I felt too sorry for him.

But Will. Will, on the other hand, my heart went out to at once. Because he had fallen back onto one of the boat's padded benches as if his legs had simply given out beneath him, his face as white as the sail snapping above us, despite his tan.

"It's not true," Jennifer was saying to him. She had hold of both his shoulders, and was crying. Really crying. And not prettily, either, the way the cheerleaders at my old school had cried after losing a game or whatever. There was actual snot involved.

"He's lying," Jennifer was saying, in an impa.s.sioned voice. "We would never do that to you. Would we, Lance?"

When Lance didn't answer right away, Jennifer flung a nervous glance at him.

"Would we, Lance?" she repeated. "Lance?"

But Lance still didn't answer. That's because he was standing in the middle of the boat deck, his fists at his side, staring at a point just between Will's feet. As I stood there watching, Lance slowly lifted his head, as if he were straining beneath a great weight, until, finally, his gaze met Will's.

And then Lance said the words that were to change everything forever after: "It's true."

One of Jennifer's hands flew to her mouth. She swung her stricken gaze from Lance to Will-both of whom were completely immobile-and then back again.

No one spoke. No one breathed. The ocean breeze snapped at the sail above our heads, but that was the only sound on the Pride Winn...except for the tinny noise from the radio Marco had been playing with earlier.

Finally Jennifer took her hand away from her mouth and said in a voice I will never forget, it was so filled with genuine sorrow and remorse: "Will. Will. I'm so sorry."

Will didn't even look her way. He was still staring at Lance.

"We couldn't help it," Lance said, with a shrug of his heavy bare shoulders. "We tried not to. Honest, Will."

Jennifer, tears running freely down her face, said, "We did. Really. We were going to tell you. But with everything-well, with your dad, and...Well, there just never seemed to be a right time-"

"Is there ever a right time?" Marco inquired nasally from where he lay with his hands over his face. "To tell a guy you're scamming on his girl, I mean?"

"Shut up, Marco," I said.

Marco took his hands from his face and looked at me with a lopsided smile. One side of his mouth was rapidly swelling.

But I had no interest in whatever he was about to say. I had eyes only for the scene unfolding in front of me.

"Will." Lance still stood where he was, his gaze never having strayed from his friend's face. "Say something, man. Anything. Or hit me. I don't care. I deserve it. Just...do something."

Will was the one who lowered his gaze first. He looked down at his bare feet. He hadn't yet had a chance to put on the shoes he'd shed to dive overboard and save the Crew-cut Kid's life.

When he spoke, his voice was devoid of any emotion at all. It was still as cold as the sea.

"Let's go back," he said.

And he got up to start undoing the main sail.

The ride home was terrible. Terrible and silent. Well, except for Marco, who complained bitterly about his split lip, until I fished out one of the cooler packs and handed it to him, just to shut him up.

There's as much to do, it turns out, when you're coming back from a sailing trip as when you're heading out on one. So we wrapped and tied and cleaned and put things away, all in utter silence-except for when Will asked one of us to do something...and Marco, of course, who continued to whine about his lip and how everyone shoots the messenger-until finally, when the Pride Winn was safely anch.o.r.ed in the harbor, Will said, "Let's head to sh.o.r.e."

So we climbed into the motorboat and headed for sh.o.r.e. We were probably the soberest group ever to head down Ego Alley. As the afternoon had worn on, more and more people had gathered in the deck chairs belonging to the bars around the dock. I could feel the tourists' envious gazes on us as we motored by. They all sat there in their white slacks and loafers, clutching beers and diet sodas, with no idea that in our boat-the one going by them right at that very moment, the one they were so jealous of-three hearts were breaking.

I wasn't counting my own heart, even though it seemed to hurt a little more every time I looked at Will's drawn face. As Marco put it, when he turned to help me from the dinghy once we reached sh.o.r.e, "Don't look so stricken, Lily Maid. This doesn't have anything to do with you and me."

"Which is exactly why," I said to him, "you should have stayed out of it."

"Hey, you had your chance at Lancelot," he said. "It's not my fault you blew it."

How was I even supposed to reply to that?

Behind us, Will was lashing the boat to a nearby mooring post. Jennifer reached out and tried to touch his shoulder.

"Will," she said, in a voice that-in my opinion, anyway-could have melted the hardest heart.

But Will just turned away and started walking toward his car.

He and Marco had apparently come in the same vehicle together, since the latter gave me a courtly bow and said, "It was a pleasure, Lady Elaine," before trailing after Will's departing figure.

Which left me alone with Jennifer and Lance, neither of whom seemed to be able to look at me...or at each other.

"Um," I said. Since it seemed like someone needed to say something. "Well. I better go. So. Bye."

They didn't even acknowledge me. I left them standing there together by the statue of Alex Haley. I don't think I'd be exaggerating, either, if I said it looked to me as if the bottom had just fallen out of both their worlds.

I called my parents from a pay phone on the corner and asked them to come pick me up. They seemed surprised to hear from me so soon...it was only a few hours since I'd left, and I'd led them to believe I'd be gone through dinner.

But when they asked me what had happened as I climbed into the car, I just shook my head. I didn't want to talk about it. I couldn't talk about it.

They didn't press me...even when, five minutes after getting home, I came down the stairs from my bedroom and walked past them in my bikini, headed for my raft.

To give them credit, they didn't say anything like, "Not again," or "I thought we'd finally moved on from the floating thing."

Instead, Mom just went, "Pizza for dinner okay, Ellie?"

And I nodded my a.s.sent.

Then I went outside.

The sun had disappeared beneath a towering column of gray clouds, but I didn't care. I climbed onto my raft and lay there, staring up at the leaves above my head.

I couldn't believe what I'd just witnessed. I really couldn't.

The thing is, stuff like that just doesn't happen to me. I mean, not that any of it had anything to do with me-Marco was right about that, anyway.

But the fact that I'd been there...that I'd seen it all happen. That was what I couldn't believe.

I knew why Marco had done it. And I couldn't say I blamed him, really.

But to have done it like that-in front of Lance and Jennifer...in front of me. Well, that hadn't really been necessary.

But then, Marco probably felt that way about the death of his dad.

I hoped Will was going to be all right. But really, what could I do to help him? Nothing, I guess. Except be his friend. Except be there for him. Except- -go to the ravine, where I was sure he'd have gone after what had happened, and ask him if there was anything I could do.

Yeah, that was it. I needed to go to the arboretum. Now. Right now...

But no sooner had this thought occurred to me than I'd opened my eyes, and saw Will sitting on top of Spider Rock, looking down at me.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

A red-cross knight for ever kneel'd

To a lady in his shield,

That sparkled on the yellow field,

Beside remote Shalott.

I didn't scream this time. I can't even say I was all that surprised to see him. It seemed almost natural, in a way I couldn't explain, that he'd be there.

He'd changed out of the wet clothes he'd worn on the boat. Now he was in jeans and a different T-shirt.

But he was wearing the exact same expression he'd had the last time I'd seen him...an expression completely devoid of any emotion whatsoever. I couldn't see his eyes, because he still wore his sungla.s.ses, even though the sun was hidden behind the clouds.

But I suspected that even if I could have seen his eyes, they'd have been as unreadable as the rest of his face. Even his voice, when he finally spoke, seeing that I'd opened my eyes at last, was totally neutral.

"Did you know?" he asked me tonelessly.

No "Hi." No "How are you, Elle?"

Not that I supposed I deserved one, since I had known and hadn't told him. Still. I wasn't going to lie to him. He'd been lied to enough. So I said simply, "Yes."

No reaction. At least, not any that I could see.

"That's why you were acting so weird last night?" he asked me. "At the party. Outside the spare room. You knew they were in there?"

"Yes," I said, though it felt as if the word had been wrenched from me.

But what else could I say? It was the truth.

I leaned up on my elbows, expecting recriminations...prepared for them, even. I deserved them. If nothing else, Will and I were friends, and friends don't let friends...well, not know that their girlfriend is cheating on them with their best friend.

But to my surprise, he didn't say any of the things I expected him to. There was no demanding How could you not have told me? or What kind of person are you?

I should have known there wouldn't be, of course. Will wasn't like everybody else. Will wasn't like anybody else I'd ever met before.

Instead, he said, in that same neutral voice, "It's weird. I feel like I already knew, in a way."

I blinked at him. This was not what I'd expected him to say. "Wait," I said, thrown. "What? Really?"

"Really," he said. "While it was happening, I was kind of like...Oh, yeah. Sure. Of course. To tell you the truth-I kind of felt...relieved." He took off his sungla.s.ses then, and looked at me. Really looked at me.

And I could see that he didn't look hurt, or devastated, or even sad. He just looked sort of...thoughtful.

"That sounds screwed up, doesn't it?" he asked. "That I felt relieved. That my girlfriend and my best friend are sneaking around together behind my back. Who would feel relieved about finding out something like that?"

I didn't know what to say. Because I knew exactly what he was talking about.