Page 18 of Sawyer

I look down at the paper, flustered that everyone’s waiting on me to get started. “Um…Cathy…um…yeah, okay.” I swallow and start again. “Cathy, are you busy this afternoon? Are you going anywhere?”

“No,” she says, looking at me like I’m an idiot. “It is raining.”

“Why…um, why have you that—that silk frock on, then? Nobody coming here, I hope?”

“Not that I know of…” She gives me another one of those frosty, scathing glances, then turns away from me, pretending to brush her hair in a mirror. “But you should be in the field now, Heathcliff. It is an hour past dinnertime. I thought you were gone.”

I stare at her profile. I want her to look at me. I try to catch her eyes, but she’s so committed to her pretend brushing, I almostseea brush in her hand.

“Your line, Sawyer!” calls Bruce.

Right.I look down at the script. “Hindley does not often free us from his accursed presence. I’ll not work anymore today. I’ll stay with you.”

She grimaces, pursing her lips like she’s taken a big gulp of milk gone sour.

“Oh, but Joseph will tell,” she says. “You’d better go, Heathcliff!”

“Joseph is busy with chores; they will take him till dark, and he’ll never know.”

She scoffs, pretending to place the brush on a shelf and finally looking at me. Her eyes are so cold, a chill runs down my spine.

“Heathcliff, please go. Isabella and Edgar Linton talked of calling this afternoon. As it rains, I hardly expect them, but theymaycome, and if they do, I don’t want you here.”

I don’t want you here.

She looks away from me again, like I’m a mosquito buzzing in her ear, of no consequence, of no importance. I’m tempted to reach for her wrist and yank it, to make her look at me. Instead, I glance down at the page.

“Cathy! Don’t turn me out for those pitiful, silly friends of yours! I beg you!”

“Oh, Heathcliff—”

“Look at the almanac on that wall!” I demand, pointing off-stage at a pretend wall. “There is a cross or a dot on each day. The crosses are for the evenings you have spent with the Lintons and the dots for those spent with me. Do you see? I’ve marked every day. And there are so many fewer dots than crosses.”

“Dots and crosses!” She scoffs, and it’s a hollow, brittle, mocking sound. “How foolish! As if I took notice! Where is the sense of that?”

“To show that Idotake notice,” I say, reaching for her elbow.

She yanks it away and steps back, narrowing her eyes at me. “And should I always be sitting with you? What good do I get? What do you talk about? You might be dumb or a baby, for anything you say to amuse me or for anything you do either!”

I feel helpless, like she’s pulled the rug out from under me. “You never told me before that I talked too little, or that you disliked my company, Cathy!”

Her face hardens before my eyes, into a veritable mask of haughty condescension. “It’s no company at all, Heathcliff, when someone knows nothing and says nothing.”

We stare at each other, her chin raised and nose in the air, and me with my fists balled at my sides. I want to shake her—not hard enough to hurt her, just to remind her of who we once were to each other.

I’m good enough,I think.Remember when I was good enough for you?

“Bravo!” yells Bruce. “I have chills! Who else has chills?”

His cries of approval are enough to jolt me to my senses. I unfurl my fists and pivot forward, surprised to find Bruce standing up and clapping for me and Ivy. Feeling a little bewildered, I slide my eyes back to her, and see that she’s smiling at him, all hint of snobbishness gone and a lovely flush of pride pinkening her cheeks.

“Ivy,” I whisper.

“Good job!” she says, grinning at me. “I really believed you!”

“Yeah,” I say, frowning back at her. “I really believed you, too.”

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