“Then you should totally tell your sister to have that other guy give Griffon your number,” she says, the excitement building in her voice. “Maybe you two are destined for each other. Ooh, can you imagine how romantic it would be to tell your grandchildren how you met? The Tower of London—where he rescued you.”
“Come on, Rayne,” I say, looking around to make sure nobody else in the café is paying attention. “Settle down. For all I know he lives all the way out in New Jersey and is a total creep.” Rayne’s mom has pumped her head full of hippie ideas about destiny and auras and ridiculous things like that, and she’s always making a big deal about every little coincidence. Nothing is allowed to just
happen
. Everything has a hidden meaning.
Rayne reaches up and unties her necklace, handing it to me. “Here,” she says. “You need this more than I do.”
I look at the light pink stone that hangs on a black cord. “Thanks,
but pink isn’t really my color.” I never wear necklaces. The feeling of weight around my neck is always a little suffocating.
Rayne stands up and ties the cord around my neck. “Like it or not, you need it,” she says. “It’s rose quartz—the symbol of universal love. It attracts positive energy, and that’s what you need right now, I can feel it.”
I lift the stone and feel it thunk back against my chest. Despite its pinkness, it
is
pretty, and I don’t want to hurt her feelings. “Thanks,” I say. “Let’s hope it works.”
“Some people are just meant to be together,” she says. “Their spirits search the world for their match, and when they find it, everything else melts away until they’re united.”
I nod. “Right. I’m sure that’s what’s going on.” Even though I think she’s completely nuts most of the time, she is my best friend. My phone chimes, and I reach over to read the text.
“That’s weird,” I say, reading it again. “Kat wants me to meet her at the shop after work.” Except for vacations when she has no choice, the two of us don’t exactly hang out.
Rayne downs the rest of her coffee. “That
is
weird. Maybe she needs money. Or maybe she’s in some kind of trouble that she doesn’t want your parents to know about. That’s why she wants you to meet her out of the house.”
“I doubt it,” I say. But I can’t think of a more logical reason.
The glass door is already locked and the CLOSED sign is in the window when I get to the store, so I knock as loudly as I can. Kat has worked at the shop for over a year, but I’ve only been here a
couple of times. It’s one of those places that doesn’t have much on display, but you know that the few pieces that are here cost way more than you can afford. The owner designs everything from shoes and bags to dresses and scarves, and everything is laid out and lit with tiny little ceiling lights like you’re at an art exhibit. I never come into places like this if I can help it.
“Sorry,” Kat says as she turns the key in the lock on her side and swings the door open. “I’m cleaning up in the back. Come on in, I’ll just be a minute.”
The store smells like flowers, and thumping music is playing softly in the background. A woman with long, wavy dark hair is bending over a glass jewelry case, rearranging some necklaces in a velvet-lined tray. She’s thin, and has on one of the flowing, sleeveless tops that hang on a wall rack along with dark blue skinny jeans and high-heeled red shoes. Every finger holds a ring that is larger and more colorful than the last one, but she wears almost no makeup that I can see. She’s one of those women who can leave the house wearing only a paper bag and make it look like the height of fashion, and because Kat talks about her incessantly, I know it’s Francesca, the owner.
“How old is she?” I whisper just loud enough to be heard over the music.
“Twenty or twenty-one,” Kat says. “Somewhere in there. She was still going to design school when her father gave her the money for the store.” Her eyes soften, and I can tell that Kat practically worships her boss. “She’ll make it to the top of the fashion world before she’s thirty, guaranteed.”
Francesca smiles and walks over to us. “Katherine, you should
be done here,” she says with an accent that is vaguely European but impossible to place. She smiles at me. “Go and have a marvelous evening with your friend.”
“My sister,” Kat corrects. “This is Cole.”
“So glad you came to see our store,” Francesca says, giving me an air kiss on both cheeks.
“Thanks,” I say glancing around. “It’s really nice.”
Francesca puts both hands on my shoulders and looks me up and down. “She has a fantastic figure,” she says to Kat, as if I’m not even in the room. “That new tunic would look amazing on her. With some leggings and that new necklace Drew just finished, the one with all of the gears. Ooh! And those gold heels we just got in.”
Kat laughs. “Those aren’t really Cole’s style,” she says. “Besides, didn’t you sell the Clockwork necklace this morning?”
Francesca puts a finger to her lips and smiles. “That’s right, I almost forgot. Got a great price for it, too.”
As they look me over, the bell on the front door rings and a guy comes in carrying a white paper sack. It’s obvious from the casual way he walks across the showroom floor that he isn’t a customer, and after depositing the bag on the front counter, he approaches Francesca from behind and grabs her around the waist. He looks like he’d be right at home on one of those fifty-foot-tall Calvin Klein billboards in Union Square.
“So what are you two looking so happy about?” he says, nuzzling Francesca’s neck. He has a smooth Australian accent that goes perfectly with his short blond hair and white teeth.
Francesca squeals and pretends to swat him on the arm. “Only
that I sold one of your most expensive pieces,” she says, turning to kiss him on the mouth.
“Oooh, nice,” he says, pulling back to look at her. “Good thing I stopped at the cupcake shop after I picked up your salad. You deserve an extra commission today.”
“If you two are done…” Kat steps in. She’s smiling like she’s only joking, but I can tell that there’s more going on here.
Francesca kisses him hard on the mouth. “Mmm. Yes. So sorry. Drew, this is Kat’s little sister. Cole, is it?”
I nod. Drew smiles at us, his bright blue eyes crinkling at the edges. “Good to meet you. Francesca would be lost without your sister.”
“Not true,” Kat says. She looks away and smiles, but the red that creeps up the back of her neck says volumes, and suddenly I know what’s up, although it’s so obvious I can’t believe I didn’t figure it out before. She totally has a crush on him.
“We should go,” I say, apparently the only one uncomfortable in the slightly awkward silence that has descended on the room.
“Right,” Kat agrees, looking around for her bag. “We should go.” She grabs her things and we walk out the front door, Kat turning around and making an extra effort to wave to Francesca and Drew through the glass. They’re so wrapped up in each other I don’t think they even notice we’re gone.
“What was that all about?” I say, once the door is shut behind us. “I was standing right there. I’m not a complete idiot, you know. I can dress myself.”
“I know,” Kat says, giving my clothes another look. “But I
wasn’t wrong, was I? I mean, you’d never wear any of the stuff in the shop, would you?”
“Not really the point,” I say. I look at the storefronts as we walk. All of the stores are closing things up for the night. “Where are we going that’s so important?”
“Just here.” Kat steers me into a dimly lit old café. These kinds of places have been totally off Kat’s radar until recently. Now all the old things are cool again, and everyone wants a piece of the “authentic” San Francisco. This one has been here for decades, the walls lined with dusty trophies and black-and-white photos of movie stars from generations ago.
Kat pushes a plate of biscotti toward me after she orders our drinks. “I thought you might be hungry,” she says, fidgeting with her bag. “My treat.”
I bite into a chocolate one and realize how hungry I am. “Thanks,” I say, instantly suspicious. Buying biscotti and hanging out at cafés isn’t part of our usual routine. Either she’s getting worse at hiding things or I’m getting better at figuring them out, because all of a sudden I know that she has a secret. And that it’s a big one.
I sit up straighter. “Did you get a tattoo? Because you know Mom and Dad are going to kill you if you did.”
Kat laughs, showing her perfect white teeth. “No,” she says. “Not yet, anyway.” She glances toward the door. “This is a different kind of something.”
She’s staring over my shoulder when I hear his voice. “Hey, Cole.”
I turn to see Griffon standing behind me. He looks exactly as I remember him—brown curls, broad shoulders, and amber eyes
that are so intense I have to look away. I don’t trust myself to speak, but I manage a weak smile as he sits down in the empty chair. My heart is racing, and I can feel my cheeks getting hot. I’m starting to feel lightheaded, like I’m spinning around way too fast, and the last thing I need is to have a vision right here in front of them both.
“Check it out!” Kat says loudly, with a little squeal. “Griffon lives in Berkeley, of all places! I was
so
lying when you asked about him the other day.”
I clear my throat, looking everywhere in the café but at him. “I have to … um …,” I stammer as I push the chair back and walk as quickly as I can to the safety of the bathroom in the back of the café. Locking the door behind me, I force myself to breathe normally and try to organize my racing mind into something resembling rational thought. I lean against the sink and stare into the mirror until the panic starts to recede. I’m not having a vision. I’m just freaking out.
Griffon is here. In San Francisco. He shows up unannounced in photos that were taken days before we met and thousands of miles from here. Just when I think I’ll never see him again, he appears right in front of me, and my first response is to lock myself in the bathroom. Oh God. This line of thinking is not helping me calm down much.
“Cole, what the hell?” Kat says in a loud whisper from the other side of the door. “I go to all this trouble, and now you’re making me look stupid.”
I lean against the door. “I know. I’m sorry. I’m just … surprised, is all.”
“So what now?” she asks. “After I brought him all the way over here, what do I tell him? That you have a weak bladder?”
“I don’t know,” I whisper back. I have no idea how to get out of this without looking like an idiot. “Just tell him I’ll be right out.”
“Well, hurry. Griffon really wants to see you, so you’d better not screw it up.”
I don’t answer, because we both know it’s too late for that. Walking back into the room, I’m relieved to see he’s still sitting there, talking to Kat.
As I get to the table, he looks up and smiles at me. “You okay?”
I grin back just a little. He must think freaking out is part of my normal everyday life. “Yes. Sorry. I just…” I let the sentence trail off, because there really is no good answer.
He gets up and pulls my chair back for me to sit down. I’ve never seen anybody my age do that before. “I should have called first. But Kat wanted to surprise you.” He sits back down in his chair. “I guess it worked.”
“So,” Kat says, glancing at me to make sure I’m not going to run off again. “Turns out that Griffon’s mom teaches at Cal.” She raises her eyebrows in my direction. “Isn’t that cool?”
I look at him straight on for the first time since he walked in. Griffon probably failed to mention that fact the day we met because he didn’t ever intend to see me again. Which only makes this whole setup even more embarrassing. “Yeah. That’s cool.”
“So, um, Kat says you go to Pacific,” Griffon says, in an obvious attempt to steer the conversation away from my lameness, an attempt I deeply appreciate. “I was there just a couple of weeks ago for a baseball game.” He smiles. “I go to Marina. We beat you guys nine to nothing.”
“Yeah, well, Pacific isn’t exactly known for its sports,” I say, unaware until this moment that our arts magnet school even had a baseball team. I wonder if we’ve crossed paths on campus. I’ve never been to any of the games, but maybe he passed me in the hallway or on the sidewalk while I was waiting for my bus. I went halfway around the world to meet someone who lives practically next door the whole time. Rayne is going to love this.
“Cole spends a lot of time in the music department.” Kat says it almost like she’s proud of that fact.
“Are you in the band?” he asks, and I can see visions of big fuzzy hats and bad polyester jackets passing through his mind.
“Not exactly,” I say. I study him for any sign of impatience, wondering why he picked now to tell me the truth. He’s probably only doing this as a favor to Owen.
“Cello,” Kat says. “Cole’s a world-class cellist. She even played with the symphony last year. The real one, not the kid one.” I stare at her, not sure who this person is. She looks like my sister, but she sure doesn’t sound like her. Kat is the first person to complain about the cello playing, and I’ve never heard her say anything positive about it in her life.
“Cello?” Griffon raises his eyebrows as if he’s adjusting a mental picture.
I’m suddenly flustered and turn my face away from him, feeling overly exposed. “Yes, cello. Something wrong with that?”
“No. It’s perfect,” he says.
Perfect for what?
I wonder.
“You should invite him to the concert,” Kat says. She turns to him. “She’s been working nonstop on her solo. It’s kind of a big deal.”
Griffon tilts his head toward me. “Do I get an invite?”
My face must be about five shades of red as I answer. “Sure, I guess. If you really want to come. It’s next weekend. At the Northern California Conservatory. Near the park.” I can hear myself rambling, but am powerless to stop.
“Well,” Kat says, scraping her chair back. “I’ve got to go.” Subtlety isn’t exactly her strong point.
Griffon stands up partway. “Do you have to go too?” he asks me, actually sounding like he wants me to stay.
I look up at the clock, knowing I should get home and finish the hours of homework and practice I have, but wanting desperately not to leave.