Before he could finish his sentence, hands went up all over the room.
Somehow that brought everything into focus for Gillian. She was standing in front of a classroom with everyone staring at her-that in itself would have been enough to terrify her in the old days. And sitting there in front was David, wearing an unreadable expression, and Tanya, looking rigidly shocked. And other people who'd never looked directly at her before, and who were now waving their hands enthusiastically.
All boys.
She recognized Bruce Faber, who she'd always thought of as Bruce the Athlete, with his tawny hair and his blue-gray eyes and his tall football build. Normally he looked as if he were acknowledging the applause of a crowd. Just now he looked as if he were graciously extending an invitation to Gillian.
And Macon Kingsley, who she called Macon the Wallet because he was so rich. His hair was brown and styled, his eyes hooded, and there was something cruel to the sensual droop of his mouth. But he wore a Rolex and had a new sports car and right now he was looking at Gillian as if he'd pay a lot of money for her.
And Cory Zablinski-who was Cory the Party Guy because he constantly seemed to be arranging, going to, or just recovering from parties. Cory was wiry and hyper, with foxy brown hair and darting fox-colored eyes. He had more personality than looks, but he was always in the middle of things, and at this moment he was waving madly at Gillian.
Even Amy's new boyfriend Eugene, who didn't have looks or personality in Gillian's opinion, was wiggling his fingers eagerly.
David had his hand up, too, despite Tanya's cold expression. He looked polite and stubborn. Gillian wondered if he'd told Tanya he was just trying to help a poor junior out.
(Pick... Macon.) The ghostly voice in Gillian's ear was thoughtful.
(Macon? I thought maybe Cory.) She couldn't pick David, of course, not with Tanya looking daggers at
her. And she felt uncomfortable about picking Bruce for the same reason-his girlfriend Amanda Spengler was sitting right beside him.
Cory was friendly and, well, accessible. Macon, on the other hand, was vaguely creepy.
This time the voice in her head was patient. (Have I ever steered you wrong? Macon.)
(Cory's the one who always knows about parties...) But Gillian was already moving toward Macon.
The most important thing in life, she was discovering quickly, was to trust Angel absolutely.
"Thanks," she said softly to Macon as she perched on an empty stool behind him. She repeated after Angel: "I'll bet you take good notes. You seem like a good observer."
Macon the Wallet barely inclined his head. She noticed that his hooded eyes were moss green, an unusual, almost disturbing color.
But he was nice to her all period. He promised to have his father's secretary photocopy the thick sheaf of biology notes in his spiral-bound notebook. He lent her a highlighter. And he kept looking at her as if she were some interesting piece of art.
That wasn't all. Cory the Party Guy dropped a ball of paper on the lab table as he walked past to get rid of his gum in the trash can. When Gillian unfolded it she found a Hershey's kiss and a questionnaire: R U
new? Do U like music? What's yr phone #? And Bruce the Athlete tried to catch her eye whenever she glanced in his direction.
A warm and heady glow was starting somewhere inside Gillian.
But the most amazing part was yet to come. Mr. Leveret, pacing in the front, asked for somebody to review the five kingdoms used to categorize living things.
(Raise your hand, kid.) (But I don't remember-) (Trust me.)
Gillian's hand went up. The warm feeling had changed to a sense of dread. She never answered questions in class. She almost hoped Mr. Leveret wouldn't see her, but he spotted her right away and nodded. "Gillian?"
(Now just say after me...) The soft voice in her head went on.
"Okay, the five classes would be, from most advanced to most primitive, Animalia, Plantae, Fungi, Protista... and Eugene." Gillian ticked them off on her fingers and glanced sideways at Eugene as she finished.
(But that's not nice. I mean-) She never got to what she meant. The entire class was roaring with laughter. Even Mr. Leveret rolled his eyes at the ceiling and shook his head tolerantly.
They thought she was hysterical. Witty. One of those types who could break up a whole classroom.
(But Eugene-) (Look at him.) Eugene was blushing pink, ducking his head.
Grinning. He didn't look embarrassed or hurt; he actually looked pleased at the attention.
It's still wrong, a tiny voice that wasn't Angel's seemed to whisper. But it was drowned out by the
laughter and the rising warmth inside Gillian. She'd never felt so accepted, so included. She had the feeling that now people would laugh whenever she said something even marginally funny. Because they wanted to laugh; they wanted to be pleased by her-and to please her.
(Rule One, dragonfly. A beautiful girl can tease any guy and make him like it. No matter what the joke is. Am I right or am I right?)
(Angel, you're always right.) She meant it with all her heart. She had never imagined that guardian angels could be like this, but she was glad beyond words that they were and that she had one on her side.
At break the miracles continued. Instead of hurrying out the door as she normally did, she found herself walking slowly and lingering in the hall. She couldn't help it, both Macon and Cory were in front of her, talking to her.
"I can have the notes ready for you this weekend," Macon the Wallet was saying. "Maybe I should drop them by your house." His heavy-lidded eyes seemed to bore into her and the sensual droop to his mouth became more pronounced.
"No, I've got a better idea," Cory was saying, almost dancing around the two of them. "Mac, m'man, don't you think it's about time you had another party? I mean, it's been weeks, and you've got that big house... How about Saturday, and I'll round up a keg and we can all get to know Jill better." He gestured expansively.
"Good idea," Bruce the Athlete said cheerfully from behind Gillian. "I'm free Saturday. What about you-Jill?" He draped a casual arm around her shoulder.
"Ask me Friday," Gillian said with a smile, repeating the whispered words in her mind. She shrugged off the arm on her own volition. Bruce belonged to Amanda.
A party for me, Gillian thought dazedly. All she'd wanted was to get invited to a party given by these kids-she'd never imagined being the focus of one. She felt a stinging in her nose and eyes and a sort of desperation in her stomach. Things were happening almost too fast.