"She thinks Tristan's up there and is going to help her," Suzanne told Will. "She said something about Tristan's light."
With that, Will gazed up at Ivy. Ivy glared down at him. Her furious stare was met with a look of wonder.
His eyes traveled along the board behind her, searching. He glanced quickly around the pool, then up at her again. She saw the word "Tristan" on his lips, though he did not speak it aloud. At last he asked her, "Can you get down all right?"
"Of course I can."
Gregory and Suzanne stood on either side of the ladder as she climbed down, as if they might have to catch her. Will stood apart from them and continued to glance around the pool.
When Ivy reached the bottom, Suzanne hugged her, then held her at arm's length. "Girl, I could just shake you, shake you." She was laughing, but Ivy saw the tears in her friend's eyes and the relief in her face.
Gregory stepped in then and put his arms around Ivy, pulling her close.
"You scared me, Ivy," he said. Ivy could barely breathe and tried to pull back, but he wouldn't let go.
Suzanne laid a hand on Gregory's arm. She was over her scare now and did not look happy about the long embrace. Will kept his distance, saying nothing.
"I'll take you home," Gregory said, freeing Ivy at last.
"No, I'm fine," she protested.
"I want to."
"Really, Gregory, I'd rather-" "Am I supposed to walk?" Suzanne interrupted.
Gregory turned to her. "I'll take you first, Suzanne, and then-" "But I'm all right," Ivy insisted.
"She's all right," Suzanne echoed. "She is, I can tell. And we had plans."
"Suzanne, after what just happened, you can't expect me to leave Ivy alone. If Maggie's at home, then we can-" "Could I give you a ride home, Ivy?" Will cut in.
"Yes. Thanks," she replied.
Gregory looked irritated.
Suzanne smiled. "Well, then, big brother," she said, putting her arm around Gregory, "it's all worked out.
You have nothing to worry about."
"You'll stay with her?" Gregory asked Will. "You'll take care of her until Maggie gets home?"
"Sure." Will glanced up at the diving board. "Either I will or Tristan will," he added.
Ivy cocked her head at him. Suzanne giggled, then covered her mouth with her hand. Gregory didn't crack a smile.
"Oh, hi!" Beth said a few minutes later, looking up to see Ivy and Will.
She was sitting against Ivy's locker, pencil in hand, looking as if she had been busily writing a story. But when Ivy glanced down at Beth's notebook, she knew better.
"If you write that way, you're going to have the end of the story at the beginning," Ivy said, leaning down and turning the notebook around.
Will laughed lightly, and Beth blushed.
"I guess I'm not much of an actress," she said, standing up. "You okay?"
Ivy shrugged. "I don't know how to answer that question anymore-and when I do, no one believes me anyway."
"She's okay," Will said, laying his hand on Beth's shoulder, reassuring her. Oddly enough, his confident tone reassured Ivy too.
She gathered her books, and the three of them headed out to the parking lot. Beth walked between Ivy and Will, keeping the conversation going.
But a few minutes later, when Beth drove off, Ivy and Will fell into an uncomfortable silence. Ivy climbed into his silver Honda and kept her eyes straight ahead. As they headed toward her house the only thing he asked was whether she wanted the windows up.
Since the party Will had been avoiding Ivy at school. She figured he was probably embarrassed about their strange conversation on the dance floor.
And she was grateful to him for swallowing his pride enough to get her out of a jam with Gregory and Suzanne.
"Thanks again," Ivy said.
"No problem," Will replied, adjusting the sun visor.
Ivy wondered why he didn't ask for an explanation of what she had been doing up on the diving board.
Maybe he just assumed it was what crazy people did. As he drove he kept his eyes on the traffic. When they stopped at an intersection, Will seemed unusually attentive to the people crossing in front of the car.
Then he stole a sidelong glance at her.
"That was a joke, wasn't it?" Ivy blurted out. "When you told Gregory that you'd take care of me-or Tristan would-you were just making a joke."
The light changed, and Will drove a block before answering. "Gregory didn't laugh," he observed.
"Were you making a joke?" Ivy persisted, twisting around in her seat.
"What do you think?"
"What does it matter what I think?" Ivy exploded. "I'm the crazy girl who tried to kill herself."
Will turned the wheel suddenly and pulled over to the side of the road.
"I don't believe that," he said quietly.
"Well, everyone else does."
He kept the motor running and rested his arms on the wheel. Ivy studied the flecks of paint on his hands.
"Some people may have bought the rumors," he said, "but I'm surprised you would."
She didn't say anything.
"It seems to me"-his voice was calm and reasonable-"that_ reallyp crazy people don't think they're crazy. Why would you?"
"Well, there is that little story about my showing up at a train station," Ivy replied, unable to stop the sarcasm in her voice, "just before the late-night express rushed through."
He turned to her, his dark eyes challenging her. "Do you remember driving yourself there? Do you remember planning to jump in front of the train?"
Ivy shook her head. "No. None of that. I only remember the light afterward. The shimmering."
"Which is what you saw up on the diving board."
She nodded.
"I wonder why you see him and I hear him," Will said.
"You hear him?" Ivy reached over and switched off the motor. "You hear him?"
"So does Beth."
Ivy's mouth dropped open.
"She writes stories with messages that aren't hers. I draw angels I don't mean to draw." He drew an invisible image on the windshield. "We both thought we were losing it."
Ivy remembered the day at the electronics store, when Beth had typed on a computer: "Be careful, Ivy.
It's dangerous, Ivy. Don't stay alone. Love you. Tristan." Ivy had run from the shop, furious at Beth for playing that trick. But she should have listened. Days later, she had been attacked at the house.
"He's warning you," Will continued, "Beth thinks it's something bigger than any of us can handle on our own, and she's scared to death."
Ivy felt the skin prickle on the back of her neck. Since the evening before, all she had thought about was reaching out toward the light that she believed was Tristan. She'd avoided the frightening question about why an angelic Tristan might be trying to reach her.
"You have to remember what happened," Will went on. "That's what Tristan was trying to tell you the night of the party, when we were dancing."
"He was with you then?" In her mind Ivy began to run through all the strange events of the past summer.
"So the angels you drew, and that picture of an angel who looked like Tristan-" "I was as amazed as you," Will said. "I tried to tell you, I'd never do something like that to hurt you. But I didn't know how to explain what happened. He got inside me. It was as if all I could do was draw those angels. My hands hardly felt like my own."
She reached over and laid her hand on his.
"I think he meant to comfort you," Will added.
Ivy nodded and blinked back tears. "I'm sorry I didn't understand then.
I'm sorry I got so angry at you." She took a deep breath. "I have to remember. I have to go back to that night. Will, would you take me to the train station?"
He started the car immediately. When they arrived, several people had just gotten off a commuter train from New York City. Will parked the car as the station emptied out. Then he walked with Ivy as far as the steps to the southbound platform. "I'm not going to say anything more," he said. "It's probably best if you poke around on your own and see what comes to you. But I'll be right here if you need me."