Beckoning Light (The Afterglow Trilogy #1)(10)
Author: Alyssa Rose Ivy

“Geez, eager guy, huh?”

“I can’t believe Monty said yes.”

“Me, either.” I turned my attention to adjusting my music and tuning my cello. I got caught up in the music, and class moved quickly.

I already knew James would be waiting outside the orchestra room before I even put away my cello. I tried to calm down. It was going to be a short ride, and then I could get Monty to pick me up when he was done with practice. I walked slowly and reluctantly out of the room and stopped in front of James, who beamed.

“Are you as excited as I am to do some research on Poe?” James never seemed to get bored of using fake enthusiasm.

“Sure, let’s go.” I just wanted to get the trip over with.

We walked out to the parking lot silently, and I immediately noticed his car parked in the second row. He opened the passenger door of his black sports car for me as though it was an afterthought and started the engine before I was even buckled.

“Ready, study buddy?” James looked at me expectantly.

When I didn’t answer, he shrugged and pulled out of the parking spot. I was surprised to see that he drove fairly normally, not what I expected of a guy with this kind of car. It seemed like every time I thought I had James figured out, he surprised me.

“I’m sure you are so relieved that your uncle didn’t mind me giving you a ride, huh? He just didn’t want to let you down.” I could tell that he was trying to hold back laughter.

I was seriously ready to hit him. I couldn’t keep my mouth shut any longer. “So, what is this?”

“What do you mean?” He looked over at me as we sat at a stop light.

“You obviously get some pleasure out of making me uncomfortable and angry. Why?” I hoped he might actually tell me.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I am just excited to get the project started.” He accelerated as the light turned green. I stared out the window. I knew I had promised myself I would give James a chance, but he annoyed me each and every time we talked, which was way too often for me.

Some of my anger melted away when we pulled into the parking lot of the public library. I had so many warm memories of the library as a child, and I hadn’t been there since we got back to town. As we walked inside, James glanced over at me, seeming to have noticed my mood change, but for once he kept his mouth shut. He led me directly to the poetry section and immediately pulled a few volumes down from a shelf.

“For someone who just moved here, you sure know your way around the library,” I said, curious.

“Thanks,” he responded, pretending to ignore my tone.

I rolled my eyes. In the few days I had known James, he had made me do that more than I had ever done it in my life. We walked over to a table and sat down with the books. James pulled out a laptop and showed me that he had already started a document for our project. We outlined the sections of the paper and then tried to pick out some poems to work with. To my surprise, I actually enjoyed working with him. He was a lot more analytical than I expected, and it was kind of relaxing. He also left some of his sarcasm at the door, showing me a side I hadn’t known existed. We took turns picking out poems to read. One of the poems James chose caught my attention. It was Poe’s To Helen (1848), and it was full of garden imagery, including a great stanza about someone stopping in front of a garden gate. Something about the poem gripped me. I was sure it was the garden descriptions that caught my attention at first, but it was the stanza about the garden gate that struck me the most.

James noticed me rereading the poem. “So you like gardens, huh?” he asked, pulling my attention from the poem. I left a finger to mark my favorite stanza.

“Well, my mom loved gardening. She spent practically all her free time out in our garden.” I offered more information than I meant to.

“Your mom had a green thumb, huh?” James gave me a knowing look that once again left me with the impression that we had met before.

“Yeah, she was really good with any kind of plants or animals. My mom was kind of like the Disney versions of Snow White and Cinderella. I mean, animals didn’t actually talk to her, but they loved her.” After the words were out, I couldn’t believe I had said them. He was going to think I was crazy.

“Are you that way, too?” James’s eyes practically bored holes into mine. This should have unnerved me, but I was just so comfortable talking to him. Now that it was just the two of us, and he wasn’t constantly smirking at me, I was actually enjoying his company.

“Not as much, but yeah, I guess you could call me a nature lover,” I answered honestly. I had always had a way with animals and enjoyed gardening.

“So why are you so fixated on this stanza?” He tapped the finger I had left on the page, then read a few of the lines out loud.

Was it not Fate, whose name is also Sorrow, That bade me pause before that garden-gate, To breathe the incense of those slumbering roses?

“Well, it really just reminds me of a gate in our yard. My brother and I used to call it the forbidden gate.” I thought of the vine- and moss-covered gate that stood behind the fountain in my yard. An image from my dream came back to me, and I could almost see the figure standing in front of the gate.

“Forbidden gate?” James stifled a laugh.

“Yeah, I know how it sounds. We were always allowed to play anywhere in the yard, but we could never go through the gate. Of course, we couldn’t if we wanted to; it was locked, and there was no way to get over the wall. Besides, there can’t be too much beyond it; we have neighbors behind us.”

“Sounds kind of cool. What do you think is back there?” He looked at me intently.

“Who knows? Maybe some dangerous animals or something.” It sounded stupid, but it was the first thing that came to mind.

James laughed. “Dangerous animals?”

“Well, what else could it be?”

“Maybe nothing, maybe anything.”

I cringed. Great, back to the cryptic talk. “Real helpful.”

He shrugged. “So you think we’re about done?”

“Yeah, but I think I might stay here for a little while. You can go ahead and leave; I’ll call my uncle at five o’clock.”

“Hey, I’m not leaving you here. I can wait. I’m patient.”

“You really can go; it’s not a big deal.” I put emphasis on the word go.

“I’ll stay here and study; just come get me when you’re ready.” He pretended he didn’t notice that I wanted him to leave.