Page 32 of Shelter
Well, maybe I hadn’t exactly mastered it, but I practiced it without fail. The difference being that Cole Whitehurst was so good at ignoring me that even I sometimes doubted whether or not I was in the room. Whereas, when I did it to him, I kept my gaze pointed away from him no matter where he went, sometimes clumsily so. I always tried to be smooth about it, but it probably looked like I had some kind of neurological disorder the way I jumped around in my seat just to pivot away from him.
I swallowed the food threatening to choke me and told myself to keep still for once. At least with the book in front of me, I didn’t need to look anywhere else.
Cole cleared his throat. “Hey, Flora. Yeah, I got in late last night.” I heard him step into the kitchen and halt right in front of the table. “Is that your egg salad?”
The awe and reverence in his voice made me look up, and sure enough, he was eyeing my sandwich with a worshipful gaze. And then that gaze flicked to mine, and I watched his eyes narrow with a mix of mischief and triumph, and I tore mine away. I’d failed at pretending he didn’t exist, and he was letting me know it.
Asshole.
I took another bite of my fantastic egg-salad sandwich and sighed with satisfaction. Or at least, I pretended to.
“It sure is. Would you like some?” Mama asked.
“Yes, thank you.” Then I heard the scrape of a kitchen chair as he pulled out the one directly across from me. “Hi, Elise.”
Only he didn’t just say“Hi, Elise.”He said it loud and drawn out in a tease.
I slowly raised my eyes to his, knowing my mother couldn’t see my face, but that she was watching me all the same, waiting for me to be polite to this Whitehurst.
I pulled my mouth wide in a deranged smile and blinked at him three times. “Hi,” I said, making the word two syllables. Then I let my face fall and looked back at my book. I heard Cole sniff, and he might have been laughing soundlessly, but I didn’t give him the gratification of glancing back.
Running my eyes over the page in front of me, I looked for words that seemed familiar from the day before. St. John had just asked Jane to marry him, and I was terrified she would. What about poor Edward Rochester? Surely, I could focus hard enough to fall back into the story and leave Cole Whitehurst with the feeling that he was now just an annoying ghost.
“You want some sweet tea with that, Cole?” Mama asked, destroying all my concentration efforts. Looking up, I threw her a frown. Not just because she’d distracted me, but because I was drinking water. Where was my sweet tea?
“Yes, ma’am,” Cole said, his manners syrupy. “Elise, would you like a glass of sweet tea, too?”
I ground my teeth together. Well, now I couldn’t say I wanted sweet tea because Cole would be able to give himself credit for it. If he would’ve kept his mouth shut, I could have asked for my own damn tea and let Mama know I didn’t like the fact that it had been withheld in the first place.
“No, thank you,” I said, sounding far from thankful. I grabbed my glass of water and took a sip.
Aah,I told myself.Good ole water. Nothing like plain water…
“This looks delicious, Flora,” Cole praised as Mama set the plate in front of him. “It’s good, isn’t it, Elise?”
I swear, I was going to kill him. All seven-hundred-twenty pages ofJane Eyrewere about to be sacrificed for the destruction of his smug face. Somehow, I figured Charlotte Bronte would approve.
Instead of looking up at Cole, I spun away from him in my chair and faced Mama at the counter. “It’s the best egg salad in the world, Mama.”
I watched Mama fight a proud smile, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw Cole lift his sandwich and take a greedy bite.
“Mmm… mmm… mmm,” he hummed. “They just don’t make egg salad anywhere near as good as yours at Tulane, Flora. None of the food in Bruff comes close to yours.” He was laying it on thick now just to get a rise out of me, and in spite of myself, it was working.
So well I didn’t hear Ava’s approach until she dashed, full-speed, into the kitchen.
“Flora! Abby Meyer just invited me to go to her camp at Grand Isle. Mom said I could go. Are my white shorts clean?” Each sentence ran together in a breathless rush. “They’re gonna be here to pick me up in an hour.”
“But what aboutJane Eyre!”I blurted the words before I could stop myself, and Mama shot me a stern look.
“Elise Nicole!” she hissed.
Ava turned her pretty pout to me. “I’m sorry, Elise.”
At the same instant, Cole asked, “What aboutJane Eyre?”And I knew I’d made a terrible mistake.
Ava ignored her brother, but I could feel his eyes as soon as they landed on me.
“I know I said we’d finish it this week,” she said, a guilty wince pinching her voice. “But Abby really wants me to go, and I haven’t doneanythingall break.”
