A Season of Eden by Jennifer Laurens Read Free Book Online

enough that he would see me.
     
    The singers broke out in acapella, singing something I’d never heard but that sounded like renaissance. The tune filled the hollow of Senior Park, bringing a spiritual sweetness to the tainted halls.
     
    Mr. Christian couldn’t see me, even as he made a slow circle conducting. I sat on one of the many benches scattered through the park and listened. I’d never enjoyed religious music before. The sharp pitches brought to mind dark, cavernous churches and even darker, cloistered confessionals.
     
    For a second I saw myself inside one of those confession boxes. I wondered what it would be like, to share my sins with a hidden stranger. I wondered if James Christian had anything to confess.
     
    Was he a religious man?
     
    The song ended and the group applauded and started talking to each other.
     
    “What, you like this stuff?” I started at the sound of Matt’s voice behind me. I kept my focus on the group, waiting for a glimpse of Mr. Christian and to not further encourage Matt by looking at him.
     

     
    “It’s kind of cool.”
     
    “Sounds like death.”
     
    “When was the last funeral you went to? I know for a fact you don’t go to church.”
     
    “Neither do you.”
     
    “Would you go?” I looked up then, because I wanted to see the truth. His face tweaked.
     
    “Why would I go to church?”
     
    I looked at Mr. Christian and his group. “I would.”
     
    Matt let out a laugh. “Yeah, for confession.”
     
    I stood, filled with frustration that I had ever let Matt touch me. Out the corner of my eye I saw Mr. Christian walk back to class with the students. More than anything I wished I was a pure and sweet like that music.
     
    I started toward home.
     
    “Don’t be pissed,” Matt called after me. I was glad he had the brains not to follow.
     
    I went home feeling like I’d just been given a shot at the doctor’s office. Matt’s honest words, our past, and what I wanted for my future, stung enough that I couldn’t blow it off.
     
    I could go get a Starbucks with Brielle. Go on a drive.
     
    Or shop. For a moment, I debated. But even as I texted Brielle, I knew the frivolous act wouldn’t serve to cover up anything. I deleted the text, not wanting to see anyone, ashamed I was drawn to something totally self-indulgent when I was low when I should really look myself in the mirror and assess what I saw.
     
    I was sure that when Mr. Christian got stung he didn’t indulge himself.
     
    I walked into the house and found it quiet. Dumping my stuff on the entry table, I walked out the back French doors, around the pool and to edge of the property so I could look at the ocean.
     
    Fleeting memories of my very worst days entered my mind. Days when I’d been so unhappy, I’d considered falling off that cliff to the rocks and violent waves below.
     
    Thankfully those days were gone. Oddly, the same vast, incomprehensible site before me that had catapulted me into hopelessness was the same vast, incomprehensible site that had also given me hope that there was more out there for me.
     
    I perched myself on one of our pool chairs and took in some sea air. I hadn’t done anything inspired to save myself, just eliminated what I hated and thrown myself into my friends. Dad and Stacey hadn’t even noticed that I was never around. My absence had only given them more time to indulge themselves.
     

     

     

     

Chapter Six
     
    I was early to class every morning thereafter and always found Mr. Christian already in his room. What set him apart from the older teachers, besides his gorgeous face and youth, was his enthusiasm for teaching. Older teachers moseyed in with five minutes to spare. Mr. Christian arrived early, arranged the chairs, picked up trash and fallen sheet music, or wiped down the piano with some sort of orange smelling oil. In the few weeks since he had started, the black baby grand was undergoing a makeover before our eyes.
     
    I was always glad