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.
Kat jumps in. “It’s Wednesday, and Mom doesn’t cook on Wednesdays. Tae Kwon Do night.” She glances at me. “So you miss a little practice time. Who’s going to know?”
“Actually, I’m starving. Want to go and get something to eat?” he asks me. “I’ve got a couple of hours before I have to get back.”
Despite the fact that I know he’s only trying to be nice, the thought of spending a few hours alone with him makes my heart race. It’s like I’ve been handed another chance, and I’m determined to keep my mouth shut and not go on like an idiot. “I’d like that,” I say, trying not to sound too grateful.
We leave Kat at her car and continue down the street. It feels good to be walking next to Griffon—even though he’s a lot taller than I am, he matches his pace to mine so I don’t have to rush to catch up. I inch closer to him as we walk, barely into his personal space, but he doesn’t move away, just looks over at me and grins. The sidewalks are starting to get busy with the transition from daytime shoppers to people coming home from work. Rolldown doors clatter as the shop owners secure their stores for the night.
“So, what’s good around here?” he asks. “I don’t get into the city very often.”
“Yeah. Apparently you’ve only been here a few times,” I say, parroting his words at the café that day. I know that sounds bitchy, but I can’t help it. The mixed signals I’m getting from him are driving me crazy.
Griffon looks embarrassed, which for some reason makes me happy. “Okay, slightly more than a few,” he admits. “Look, I’m sorry about that—”
I wave the comment away like I don’t even care. Except I’m beginning to realize that I do care. I care a lot. “It’s okay,” I say. “You don’t have to explain.”
“I do, though. I should have told you the truth about where I live. But you took off so quickly.” Griffon stops walking and stands in front of a gated flower shop, the faint smell of roses still hanging in the air. “Anyway, I knew I’d see you again.”
I stop too and study his face, desperately wanting to believe him. “How? You don’t even know my last name.”
“These things have a way of working out,” he says, like it’s no big deal. “And I knew that Owen would get your sister’s information.”
“She might not have given it to him,” I say, although that’s a complete lie. Kat probably wrote her info in Sharpie across his hand before she left. “You don’t know my sister.”
“True. But I do know Owen. He would have never let her get away.” Griffon flashes a quick smile, then looks around at the buildings on the block. “So, where should we eat?”