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Banner
turned
the
lights
on
,
finally
glancing
at
Edward
;
he
was
looking
at
me
,
his
eyes
ambivalent
.
He
rose
in
silence
and
then
stood
still
,
waiting
for
me
.
We
walked
toward
the
gym
in
silence
,
like
yesterday
.
And
,
also
like
yesterday
,
he
touched
my
face
wordlessly
-
this
time
with
the
back
of
his
cool
hand
,
stroking
once
from
my
temple
to
my
jaw
-
before
he
turned
and
walked
away
.
Gym
passed
quickly
as
I
watched
Mike
’
s
one
-
man
badminton
show
.
He
didn
’
t
speak
to
me
today
,
either
in
response
to
my
vacant
expression
or
because
he
was
still
angry
about
our
squabble
yesterday
.
Somewhere
,
in
a
corner
of
my
mind
,
I
felt
bad
about
that
.
But
I
couldn
’
t
concentrate
on
him
.
I
hurried
to
change
afterward
,
ill
at
ease
,
knowing
the
faster
I
moved
,
the
sooner
I
would
be
with
Edward
.
The
pressure
made
me
more
clumsy
than
usual
,
but
eventually
I
made
it
out
the
door
,
feeling
the
same
release
when
I
saw
him
standing
there
,
a
wide
smile
automatically
spreading
across
my
face
.
He
smiled
in
reaction
before
launching
into
more
cross
-
examination
.
His
questions
were
different
now
,
though
,
not
as
easily
answered
.
He
wanted
to
know
what
I
missed
about
home
,
insisting
on
descriptions
of
anything
he
wasn
’
t
familiar
with
.
We
sat
in
front
of
Charlie
’
s
house
for
hours
,
as
the
sky
darkened
and
rain
plummeted
around
us
in
a
sudden
deluge
.
I
tried
to
describe
impossible
things
like
the
scent
of
creosote
-
bitter
,
slightly
resinous
,
but
still
pleasant
-
the
high
,
keening
sound
of
the
cicadas
in
July
,
the
feathery
barrenness
of
the
trees
,
the
very
size
of
the
sky
,
extending
white
-
blue
from
horizon
to
horizon
,
barely
interrupted
by
the
low
mountains
covered
with
purple
volcanic
rock
.
The
hardest
thing
to
explain
was
why
it
was
so
beautiful
to
me
-
to
justify
a
beauty
that
didn
’
t
depend
on
the
sparse
,
spiny
vegetation
that
often
looked
half
dead
,
a
beauty
that
had
more
to
do
with
the
exposed
shape
of
the
land
,
with
the
shallow
bowls
of
valleys
between
the
craggy
hills
,
and
the
way
they
held
on
to
the
sun
.
I
found
myself
using
my
hands
as
I
tried
to
describe
it
to
him
.
His
quiet
,
probing
questions
kept
me
talking
freely
,
forgetting
,
in
the
dim
light
of
the
storm
,
to
be
embarrassed
for
monopolizing
the
conversation
.
Finally
,
when
I
had
finished
detailing
my
cluttered
room
at
home
,
he
paused
instead
of
responding
with
another
question
.
"
Are
you
finished
?
"
I
asked
in
relief
.
"
Not
even
close
-
but
your
father
will
be
home
soon
.
"
