"Ivy." He breathed her name.
"I–I was going home," she said.
His glance flicked to the bushes behind her. 'Taking a shortcut?"
"Maybe you could give me a ride," she said softly.
He studied her face a moment, then silently opened the door for her. When he had locked and closed it again, Ivy leaned against the door, feeling safe. She would be safe till she got to the house on the ridge.
Will got in on the driver's side. "Do you really want to go home?" he asked.
In the end, she'd have to. She nodded, but he didn't start the car.
"Ivy, who are you afraid of?"
She shrugged and looked down at her hands. "I don't know." Will reached over and laid his hand on top of hers. She turned it over and examined the small flecks of oil paint that the turpentine rag had missed. Ivy could picture Will's hands with her eyes closed. The way his fingers felt now entwined with hers made her feel strong.
"I want to help you," he said, "but I can't if I don't know what's going on."
Ivy turned her face away from him.
"You have to tell me what's going on," he insisted.
"I can't, Will."
"What happened that night at the train station?" he asked.
She didn't answer him.
"You must remember something now. You must have some idea about what you saw. Was someone else there? What made you try to cross the tracks?"
She shook her head and said nothing.
"All right," he said in a resigned voice. "Then I've got just one more question for you. Are you in love with Gregory?"
Ivy was caught off guard, and her head spun toward him. Will looked into her eyes. He studied her whole face. "That's what I needed to know," he said quietly.
What had she given away? Ivy wondered. What had her eyes revealed? That she hated Gregory? Or that she was falling in love with Will?
She let go of his hand. "Please take me home," she said, and he did.
"And now," said a voice quivering with emotion, "we return to today's program…$ For Love of Ivy." A soap opera tune was hummed loudly-and pretty badly, Tristan thought.
Will heard it, too. He glanced around the school darkroom, where he had been working alone, and saw Lacey's purple shimmer. "You again," he muttered.
As always, Tristan found it remarkably easy to match thoughts with Will.
He slipped quickly inside him, so he could communicate with both Will and Lacey.
Will blinked. "Tristan?" he said aloud.
"Yeah," he replied. The soap opera music continued in the background.
"You're off key, Lacey," Tristan told her.
The humming stopped, and the purple shimmer moved closer to him and Will.
Will quickly put a roll of film behind him. "Could you step back a little, Lacey? You might expose my film."
"Well, excuse me!" she replied. "I guess you two heroes don't need me around. I'll be on my way." She paused to give them time to protest When neither of them did, she added, "But before I go, let me ask you lover boys a few questions. Who got Rip van Winkle here out of the darkness before the next hundred years had passed? Who directed him to this darkroom?"
"I've been calling for you, Tristan," Will explained. "I need your help."
"Who played guardian angel at Suzanne's party?" Lacey continued. "Who told you when Ivy was in big trouble?"
"Ivy was in trouble? What happened?" Tristan asked.
"Who, tell me, who'sb playing secretary to this pitiful Ivy fan club?"
"Tell me what happened," Tristan demanded. "Is Ivy okay?"
"Yes and no," Will replied, then told Tristan about the incident at the party, including Gregory's account of it. "I don't know what really happened," he said. "I caught up with Ivy afterward on the road. She was upset and wouldn't tell me anything. On Sunday she worked, then went straight to Beth's. At school today she'd talk only to Beth but wouldn't tell even her what really happened."
"Lacey, did you see anything?" Tristan asked.
"Sorry, I was, uh, socializing at the time."
"What do you think she was doing?" Tristan asked.
"Throwing the shoes of ungrateful movie fans into the pond," Will told him.
"I'm talking about Ivy!" Tristan snapped, but he was more upset with himself than Will. Twice now Will had been there for Ivy when Tristan had not.
"I've been calling you-" Will began.
"And calling and calling," Lacey said. "I told him you were in the darkness. I knew love was blind, but I guess it's deaf too. I guess-" "You've got to tell me some things, Tristan," Will interrupted her.
"You've got to tell me now. How can I help Ivy if I don't know what's going on?"
"But you know enough," Tristan challenged him. "More than you've admitted to Ivy." He began to probe Will's mind, but was swiftly pushed aside. "I know you looked in the envelope, Will," Tristan said. "I was watching when you pulled out the key."
Will didn't seem surprised or apologetic. He slipped the film into a canister. "What does the key go to?"
he asked.
"I thought you might have figured it out," Tristan baited him.
"No."
Tristan tried again to probe Will's thoughts, completely silencing his own, moving slowly and carefully. He got slammed like a hockey player against the wall of Will's mind.
"Okay, okay, you two, what's going on?" Lacey asked. "I can see your face, Will. You've got the same pigheaded expression that Tristan gets."
"He's blocking me out," Tristan charged.
"Like you haven't done the same thing to me," Will replied heatedly.
"First you send me racing up the ridge to save Ivy's life. I let you take over. I go along with you and do just what you say, and I find Ivy with a bag over her head. Gregory's mere with a strange excuse, but you won't tell me a thing about what's going on."
Will set down the canister and walked up and down the narrow room, picking up and putting down filters, markers, boxes of paper. "You get me to speak for you. You get me to dance with her and warn her and tell her you love her." Will's voice trembled a little. "But you don't tell me anything to explain why this is happening."
Ivy won't let me, Tristan thought, but he knew that wasn't the only reason. He resented the fact that he needed Will, and he didn't like the way Will was calling some of the shots now.
"I don't like this mind-control stuff," Will went on angrily. "I don't like your trying to read my mind. If there's something you want to know, ask it."
"What I want to know," Tristan said, "is how I'm supposed to trust you.
You're Gregory's friend-" "Oh, grow up, you two!" Lacey interrupted. "I don't like mind control.
How can I trust you?" she mimicked. "Puh-lease, don't bore me with the rest of your excuses. You're both in love with Ivy, and you're jealous of each other, and that's why you're keeping your little secrets and squabbling like two kindergarten kids."
"Are you in love with her, Will?" Tristan asked quickly.
He felt Will thinking, he felt Will dodging him.
Will picked up the film canister again and shifted it from hand to hand.
"I'm trying to do what's best for her," he said at last.
"You didn't answer my question."
"I don't see why it matters," Will argued. "You were there when I danced with her. You heard what Ivy said. We both know she'll never love anyone the way she loves you."
"We both know you hope it's not true," Tristan replied.
†Will slammed the canister down on the table. "I've got work to do."
"So do I," Tristan said, and slipped out of Will before he could be thrown out.
He knew that Ivy would love someone else someday and that that person might be Will. Well, if he had to leave her in Will's hands, he was going to check him out thoroughly first.