However, I got some interesting tidbits from her cohorts.”
Michael bit into a sandwich. “Which ones?”
“Liza and Casey. I’d hoped maybe they hadn’t noticed anything strange at the dance, when we were giving them the third degree. I don’t think they necessarily did. But Nell’s been grilling them, and now they’re all getting upset. Might not be long until they start getting suspicious, too.”
“So what do we do? How can we damage control this?”
I shrugged and made designs in the salad dressing with a carrot stick. “There’s not much to do but act as though we think they’re nuts if they say anything. And let’s face it—they would sound crazy. They don’t have proof, and Nell would have to tip her hand a lot more than she’s willing in order to convince the others.”
Michael finished his sandwich and grabbed a napkin. “And you don’t think any of the others know what Nell was planning to do? What are they thinking now about Amber?”
Slowly I shook my head. “No, they don’t seem to have a clue. And I think they just figure the Nell and Amber thing ran its course. They were probably more confused about why Nell included Amber in the first place than they are about why she isn’t part of things now.”
“That makes sense, I guess.” Michael turned so he was straddling the bench and reached to brush my hair over my shoulder. “How are you doing? You look tense.”
I blew out a breath and pushed away the half-eaten salad. “I feel like I’m walking a line. On one hand, I’m telling my parents that I don’t want to be afraid or ashamed of my talents anymore. I don’t want to live in hiding. But on the other hand, I’d be an idiot to shout the truth to the rooftops. I’m still working to protect myself, and it feels like hypocrisy.”
Michael chuckled. “And you hate hypocrisy, I know. But I don’t think that’s what it is. ‘Discretion is the better part of valor’, right?”
I sighed glumly. “Actually, it’s ‘The better part of valor is discretion, in the which better part I have saved my life.’ Falstaff, in Henry IV. And he’s referring to his own cowardice there. So what does that say about me?”
Michael groaned and rolled his eyes at me. He reached for my hand and pulled me close to him. Burying his face in my neck, he whispered, “Well, first it says you know way too much about Shakespeare that you can quote it that exactly. That’s just bizarre.”
His breath tickled my ear, and I shivered. Turning my head slightly so that he could hear me, I replied, “But knowing the periodic table of elements and all that math stuff, that’s normal?”
His lips were moving on the side of my face, but he didn’t even hesitate to answer. “Absolutely. That’s essential information that you can use every day. But you interrupted my point. You are definitely not a coward. Self-protection is just a mark of intelligence. And you’re not a hypocrite, either. You’re feeling your way through this new territory.”
I reached back to touch his face, flooded with gratitude for his love and loyalty. “It’s just so strange having more people know about me. With you, it was natural. It didn’t feel that odd, because I wanted to tell you everything about me. But now that Amber and your parents are in the loop, too, I’m more self-conscious.” I pulled away a little, so I could see his face; even though I could hear him thinking, I wanted to be able to gauge his expression. “I haven’t seen your parents since Friday night. How have they been… adjusting to this new information?”
I didn’t notice any change in his thoughts or his face as he gave a half shrug. “We haven’t really talked about it. I don’t think it threw them half as much as you think, Tas. They like you so much that it’s just another element of who you are, so that’s okay.”
I studied him for a moment, then turned again and leaned my head back against him. “How did I get so lucky? You know, in all fairness, your parents should be stiff, intolerant people who can’t stand me.”
He laughed, shaking us both and shifting so that his arms held me closer. “How do you figure that?”
“Because you’re so wonderful and perfect that there should be some—I don’t know, some fly in the ointment. Something that mars the total picture. But there isn’t. You, your