"Listen," David said abruptly. He broke off and shook his head. And then he did something that absolutely amazed Gillian. He pulled the car to the side of the road-or at least as far to the side as he could get it-they were still in the flow of traffic-and parked it.
"There's something I have to say."
Gillian's heart now seemed to be beating everywhere, in her throat and her fingertips and her ears. She had a dreamlike sensation that her body wasn't solid anymore, that she was just a floating mass of heartbeat. Her vision shimmered. She was... waiting.
But what David said was unexpected. "Do you remember the first time we met?"
"I-yes." Of course she did. Four years ago; she'd been twelve and tiny for her age. She'd been lying on the ground beside her house, making snow angels. Kind of childish, sure, but in those days a stretch of new snow had affected her that way. And while she was lying on her back, arms out, making the imprint of the angel's wings, a tree branch above her decided to shrug off its load of snow. Suddenly her face was covered in damp, closely packed coldness and she couldn't breathe. She came up spluttering and gasping.
And found herself steadied. Something was holding her, wiping her face gently. The first thing she saw when she got her vision back was a brown hand and a lean brown wrist. Then a face came into focus:
high strong bones and dark, mischievous eyes.
"I'm David Blackburn. I just moved in over there," the boy said. He was wiping her face with his fingers.
"You'd better be careful, snow princess. Next time I might not be around."
Looking up at him, Gillian had felt her heart explode and leak out of her chest.
And she'd walked away on air, even though he'd patted her head after releasing her. She was in love.
"Well, back then, I sort of got the wrong impression," David was saying. "I thought you were a lot younger and more-well, more fragile than you
are." There was a pause, and then he said wonder-ingly, not quite looking at her, "But, it's like, there's so much more to you. I started realizing that yesterday."
Gillian understood. David didn't have a reputation for being wild for nothing. He liked girls who were bold, dashing, out there. If he were a knight, he wouldn't fall in love with the pampered princess back at the castle. He'd fall in love with a female knight, or maybe a robber, somebody who could share the Adventure with him, who'd be just as tough as he-was.
Of course he had a strong protective streak. That was why he rescued maidens in distress. But he didn't go for the maidens who needed rescuing.
"And now," David was saying, "Now, I mean, you're ..." He held his hands up in a whoa motion. He wasn't looking at her at all.
In a moment of perfect bliss, Gillian thought, I'm cool.
"You're kind of incredible," David said. "And I feel really stupid for not noticing that before."
Gillian couldn't breathe. There was something between her and David-a kind of quivering electricity. The air was so thick with it that she felt pressure all over her. She had never been so awake before, but at the same time she felt as if most of the world was insubstantial. Only she and David were real.
And the voice in her head seemed very far away. (Uh, dragonfly, we've got company. Incoming.)
Gillian couldn't move. A car drove by, swerving to avoid the Mustang. Gillian couldn't see well through the Mustang's steamed-up windows, but she thought faces were looking at her.
David didn't seem to notice the car at all. He was still staring at the gearshift, and when he spoke his voice was very quiet. "So I guess what I'm saying is, I'm sorry if anything I said hurt your feelings. And-i see you now."
He raised his head. And Gillian suddenly realized he was going to kiss her.
Chapter 7
Gillian felt triumph, wild excitement-and something deeper. An emotion she couldn't describe because there weren't any ordinary words for it. David was looking at her, and it was almost as if she could see through his dark eyes. As if she could see inside him... see the way things looked to him...
What she felt was a little like discovery and a little like deja vu and a little like waking up and suddenly realizing it's Christmas. Or like being a kid lost in a strange place, cold and bewildered, and then suddenly hearing your mother's voice. But it really wasn't like any of those things; it was more.
Unexpected welcome... strange recognition... the shock of belonging...
She couldn't quite put it all together, because there was nothing like it in her experience. She'd never heard of anything like this. But she had the feeling that when David kissed her, she'd figure it all out and it would be the revelation of her life.
It was going to happen-now. He was moving clser to her, not fast, but as if slowly compelled by something he couldn't control. Gillian had to look down, but she didn't move back or turn her face away.
He was close enough now that she could hear his breath and feel him. Her eyes shut of their own accord.
She waited to feel the touch of warmth on her lips...
And then something in her mind stirred. A tiny whisper, so far back that she could barely hear it, and she couldn't tell where it came from.
Tanya.
The shock went through Gillian like ice on bare skin. Part of her tried to ignore it, but she was already pulling away, putting a hand up, turning to stare at the window.
Not out the window. It was too steamed up now to see anything outside. They were in their own cocoon of whiteness.
Gillian said, "I can't. I mean, not like this. I mean-it isn't fair, because you already-and you haven't ... I mean... Tanya."
"I know." David sounded as if he'd been hit with ice on bare skin, or as if he'd come up from deep water and was looking around dazedly. "I mean, you're right. I don't know what I was...
It just-it was like I forgot... Look, I'm sure that sounds stupid. You don't believe me."
"I do believe you." At least he sounded as incoherent as she did. He wouldn't think she was a total fool;
her facade wasn't broken.
"I'm not that kind of guy. I mean, it looks like I am, right here, it looks exactly like I am. But I'm not. I mean I never-I'm not like Bruce Faber. I don't do that. I made a promise to Tanya and ..."
Oh, God, Gillian thought. And then a sort of inward scream: (Help!)