Page 30 of Echoes of a Silent Song
“Well then.I think that makes you my girlfriend, Iris Wallingford.”
I stared.Girlfriend.I’d never been anyone’s girlfriend before.
The word sounded weird, especially if I thought about it too much.Girl.Friend.Both were true of me, so the combination made sense.But Victor’s expression indicated he had a lot more than “friends” on his mind.
I did too.Victor Nelson made me feel like nobody else ever had.Weird and warm and tingly, but not in a bad way.
If I made him feel anything close to that, then I probably was his girlfriend.
My smile made my cheeks ache.“I guess that makes you my boyfriend.”
He answered my smile, then led us toward the snack stand.“Brilliant.Talented.Gorgeous in a band uniform.”
This made me giggle.
“You amaze me more every single minute.”
Once again he’d managed to put my feelings into words.
Chapter Twelve
BLAIR LIFTEDthe lid of the temperamental Xerox machine in the faculty workroom, set the choral octavo on the glass, whispered a silent prayer, and pressed the button to start the copying process.Elaine Hagenberg’s “Tyger” contained a couple of beastly page turns, and a wellplaced Xerox would ward off potential disaster.
That was, as long as the machine cooperated.But the disapproving beep indicated that today would not be that day.
“Paper jam?”Blair lifted the lid.“Oh, come on.”Wiggling the blank paper free from the machine’s clutches, she replaced the lid and pressed Start again.Mercifully, the machine whirred to life.
“I’m telling you, iPads will solve all your page-turning problems.”Joy bustled into the workroom and tossed an empty can of Diet Dr Pepper into the recycling.
Blair rolled her eyes and slid her fresh, warm copy from the print tray.“Yes, but what if the battery dies in the middle of a performance?What if the Bluetooth pedal screws up and turns too many pages?”
“What if an asteroid crashes into the auditorium while the kids are onstage?There’s always something to worry about.”Joy turned toward the rows of faculty mailboxes.“Technology is the way to go.”
Blair turned to another page in the octavo.“I’ll stick with the low-tech solution, thank you very much.”
“Suit yourself.”The machine whirred, papers rustled, and then Joy let out a groan.“Ohno.”
“What?”
Joy held up a sparkly silver envelope, her eyes rolling skyward.“I forgot that was this year.”
“That’s right, darlings.”Camilla Lewis, drama teacher and Student Senate sponsor, fluttered in, all fake lashes and dangly earrings and oversized scarf.“It’s the fine arts department’s year to chaperone fall homecoming.”
Blair’s heart sank.“So that means ...”
“And of course I didn’t forget about you, Blair.”Camilla paused, manicured hand on the refrigerator door.“It’s in the choir mailbox, ready and waiting for you.”
“What’s in the choir mailbox?”This from Callum, coffee mug in hand.
“One ofthesebad boys.”Joy jiggled the envelope, and sparkles showered the gray carpet below.
Callum regarded it with an arched eyebrow.“It looks like the aftermath of a glitter-factory explosion.”
“Why,thankyou, my dear.”Camilla made her way to the exit, blowing kisses in Callum’s direction, and the door clicked shut behind her.
Callum moved toward the mailboxes.“That wasn’t meant as a compliment.”
Laughing, Blair retrieved “Tyger” from the Xerox machine.“Camilla Lewis is ...very special.”
