Part 5 (1/2)
”Hel-lo,” she says.
”I love a man who feels free to put his filthy feet all over my furniture” But she's using her pudding voice, warm and sweet and familiar. Agatha can say anything in that tone and no one would take offense. Compared to Rowena, she's an amateur, but then again it's hardly fair to compare anyone to Rowena, and I've seen the Agatha Effect in action. And Gabriel is no exception. He dusts off her chair with wide sweeping motions while saying, ”Wow, sorry- this looks like a family heirloom.”
”Maybe it is,” Agatha says, handing me my c.o.ke before cracking hers open.
Then she gives him her lightning-fast smile and holds up her can.
”Want some? I'll find a cup for you since I don't want your germs all over the place. I mean, maybe if I knew you bettera”I obey my cue.
”Gabriel, this is Agatha. Agatha, this is Gabriel.” They shake hands, the movement of their arms long and ropy. I press the edge of the soda tab into my palm until the metal pinches my skin.
”So how do you know Tam?” Agatha asks him.
”Tam and I go way back” His eyes meet mine briefly. My face feels warm and I drink some c.o.ke quickly.
”Oh?” Agatha says.
”Family friends,” I say.
”Gabriel and his mom just moved back here.”
”Cool,” Agatha says.
”So, do you think I captured her essence?” she asks and, to my horror, holds out her sketchpad to Gabriel.
”That's my a.s.signment. *Capture the essence of your subject. *
””Um ... he doesn't need to see that,” I say, moving forward to snag the sketchpad out of Agatha's hand. But she sidesteps me and I'm too late anyway-Gabriel is already examining her drawing with interest.
”Not so good, right?” she prompts as they both study the page and then me so intently that I want to sink through the floor.
”Not your fault,” Gabriel says at last.
”Take it from me, Tarn's pretty hard to pin down on paper.”
”You're right,” Agatha says as if that's the most profound thing she's heard all day. Just in time I remind myself it's probably not all that attractive to snort. Her gaze snags on the yellow flyer, now on my desk.
”What's this?”
”That's my show. You should come.
”Agatha nods enthusiastically. Like me, she loves checking out bands on the weekends.
”Where?”
”Silver Tree.”
”Awesome. Our fake IDs work there” She drinks more of her c.o.ke, sets the can on her desk, and rummages around for a few minutes.
”Where did I put my freaking charcoals?”
”They're probably in your closet. On the top shelf,” Gabriel says helpfully. Agatha gives him a dubious look but walks over to her closet anyway, reaching for the top shelf. Then she whirlsaround, charcoal set in hand, her eyes wide and wondering.
”How did you know that?” Gabriel shrugs.
”Uh ... it's where I like to keep all my important stuff. In the closet.”
”Thanks for stopping by,” I say brightly, pinning the flyer to the cluttered square of corkboard over my desk.
”So you're coming next weekend?” I nod. I really wish that I could come up with something witty right about now, but he doesn't give me time.
”Great to meet you,” he tells Agatha before winking at me and walking out the door.
”Does that mean he's gay?” Agatha muses after we hear the hallway door close. I choke on my soda.
”That closet comment he made,” she prompts when I stare at her.
”I don't think so,” I gasp, my nose tingling sharply. Agatha whacks me on the back.
”Good, because he is hot. Hot with three t's.” I settle back down onto the beanbag, arranging my legs in a more comfortable position.
”You think so?” I say neutrally after a minute. The soda tab snaps off the top of the c.o.ke can. The metal is now warm from my hand.
”Don't you?”
”He's okay,” I say. Agatha gives me a wry look over the top of her sketchpad.
”And he's totally in love with you.”
”What?” I sit upright.
”Be still,” Agatha says, lifting her pencil. She's smiling. ”But you don't-”She rolls her eyes, tapping her pencil on the page.
”It's obvious, stupid.” I lean back, trying to digest this information, trying to figure out how I feel. Then I shake my head.
”He's a friend of the family.
”Agatha frowns at me.
”So what?” How can I explain to Agatha that for me that's something to be avoided at all costs? That falling for Gabriel would really torch any hope of escaping from the seriously suffocating arms of my family. I roll the soda tab between my fingers.
”Not my type.”
”Hmm,” Agatha says, studying my face a little too long.