介绍:
"Phil travels a lot. He plays ball for a living." I half-smiled.
"Have I heard of him?" he asked, smiling in response.
"Probably not. He doesn't play well. Strictly minor league. He movesaround a lot.""And your mother sent you here so that she could travel with him." Hesaid it as an assumption again, not a question.
My chin raised a fraction. "No, she did not send me here. I sent myself."His eyebrows knit together. "I don't understand," he admitted, and heseemed unnecessarily frustrated by that fact.
I sighed. Why was I explaining this to him? He continued to stare at mewith obvious curiosity.
"She stayed with me at first, but she missed him. It made her unhappy… soI decided it was time to spend some quality time with Charlie." My voicewas glum by the time I finished.
"But now you're unhappy," he pointed out.
"And?" I challenged.
"That doesn't seem fair." He shrugged, but his eyes were still intense.
I laughed without humor. "Hasn't anyone ever told you? Life isn't fair.""I believe I have heard that somewhere before," he agreed dryly.
"So that's all," I insisted, wondering why he was still staring at methat way.
His gaze became appraising. "You put on a good show," he said slowly.
"But I'd be willing to bet that you're suffering more than you let anyonesee."I grimaced at him, resisting the impulse to stick out my tongue like afive-year-old, and looked away.
"Am I wrong?"I tried to ignore him.
"I didn't think so," he murmured smugly.
"Why does it matter to you?" I asked, irritated. I kept my eyes away,watching the teacher make his rounds.
"That's a very good question," he muttered, so quietly that I wondered ifhe was talking to himself. However, after a few seconds of silence, Idecided that was the only answer I was going to get.
I sighed, scowling at the blackboard."Am I annoying you?" he asked. He sounded amused.
I glanced at him without thinking… and told the truth again. "Notexactly. I'm more annoyed at myself. My face is so easy to read — mymother always calls me her open book." I frowned.
"On the contrary, I find you very difficult to read." Despite everythingthat I'd said and he'd guessed, he sounded like he meant it.
"You must be a good reader then," I replied.
"Usually." He smiled widely, flashing a set of perfect, ultrawhite teeth.
Mr. Banner called the class to order then, and I turned with relief tolisten. I was in disbelief that I'd just explained my dreary life to thisbizarre, beautiful boy who may or may not despise me. He'd seemedengrossed in our conversation, but now I could see, from the corner of myeye, that he was leaning away from me again, his hands gripping the edgeof the table with unmistakable tension.
I tried to appear attentive as Mr. Banner illustrated, withtransparencies on the overhead projector, what I had seen withoutdifficulty through the microscope. But my thoughts were unmanageable.
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