A/N: So this chapter is unplanned and, therefore, turned out completely different than I thought it would when I proposed it. It's nowhere near as informative as I thought it would be. Oh, well, I kind of like how it turned out so I'm posting it. But I'm glad to be going back to my outline. As always, thanks for your reviews. BTW, Celestial Aurora, sorry, no tears this chapter, but the next two chapters should make up for it. Also, all the info I'd intended to give will probably be sprinkled throughout the rest of this story and one of its sequels (I have two planned: one about Joan and Adam and one about Grace and Luke). Anyway, on with the story. Enjoy.
The cool April breeze ruffled Joan's hair. She pushed it out of her eyes and stared up at the darkening sky. Stars twinkled down at her, making her wish she could join them in their merry nocturnal dance--carefree in the present, without a worry about the future. Her thoughts were consumed with the future, specifically the moment five months from now when she and Adam would go away to different schools. He hadn't told her which school he'd chosen, but she figured it was between NYU and Rhode Island School of Design. After all, New York was the center of the American art world and even she had heard of Rhode Island School of Design.
More stars appeared as Joan forced her thoughts into the present. As of three-fifteen this afternoon, they were on Spring Break. She and Grace planned to take a day trip to the University of Maryland campus to check it out. That should be fun, but Adam wasn't going. The melancholia that had drawn Joan to the playground in the park in the first place tugged at her again. "Stop it," she told herself, disgusted with her own self-pity.
"Stop what?"
Joan twisted in her swing seat to see Adam coming up behind her. "What are you doing here?"
"Looking for you." Adam sat in the swing next to hers. "You didn't answer my question."
She stared at him, drawing a blank. The sight of him had driven everything else out of her mind including his question. "I'm sorry. I don't remember what you asked."
"You said 'stop it' and I said 'stop what.'" Adam peered into Joan's clearly troubled face. "What's bothering you?"
"Nothing," she said, dismissing her pensive mood. "I'm just tired, I think. Good thing we don't have school next week, huh?" She forced herself to smile.
He just gave a pointed look. Her act hadn't fooled him in the least, but he wouldn't push even though she still hadn't answered his question. It was one of the things she loved most about him—his patience with her. Now, as he took her hand in his, she wondered how she was going to get through four years of college without him. Grace was a great friend, her best girl friend, but she kept Joan grounded in reality. Adam's presence helped her stay emotionally even. He calmed and soothed her when no one else could. Between the two of them, her life was easier and she hoped she made their lives simpler, too.
"Jane?" Adam's worried voice broke through her reverie.
"Yeah?"
"Are you sure you don't want to talk about it?"
If she told him what she was thinking, she might influence his decision about college. She was determined not to do that. This was a turning point for him and, no matter how hard it was, she was not going to be selfish. She nodded and summoned another smile. "Why were you looking for me?"
"I missed you," he said, swinging slightly.
"We were just together three hours ago," she replied.
He shrugged. "So?"
A pleased grin lit up Joan's face. Adam returned it. "That's better."
Rolling her eyes, Joan squeezed his hand in thanks. "So why were you looking for me, really?"
"I need to tell you something."
Her smile slipped a little at his serious tone. "I'm listening."
"I've decided which school I'm going to," he announced, his eyes on their joined hands. "I'm going to the University of Maryland with you and Grace."
Surprise was instantly followed by joy which dissolved into dismay. Why the University of Maryland? Out of all the schools he'd been accepted to, why would he choose to go there? He was sensitive to her moods and needs. Had he sensed how hard preparing to let him go was for her and decided not to put her through the pain?
"I know what you're thinking and that's not it." Adam looked up into Joan's eyes. "You told me not to include you in my decision and I didn't."
"Then why?" Joan asked, struggling to understand. "You got into some of the best schools for art in the country. Why didn't you choose one of them?"
"Can you imagine me in L.A.?"
Confused, Joan shook her head. No, she really couldn't.
"And, as far as we know, New York isn't going anywhere, right?"
"Right." She still felt clueless.
"That takes care of NYU and UCLA."
"But what about the art schools: Rhode Island, Pratt, Atlanta College of Art?" Joan protested. "Those are great schools."
"Yes, they are," Adam conceded. They were swinging together now, which was a strange feat since they were facing in opposite directions. He rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand in comforting circles. "I just don't think they're where I need to be right now."
Try as she might, Joan still didn't understand.
"We've known each other for, what, a year and a half now?" asked Adam.
Joan nodded.
"For most of that time, I've been sort of reentering the world after three years spent in my own bubble. You're the reason I'm not still there."
"But you don't need me to stay in the world," Joan said, wondering why she was trying to talk Adam out of going to college with her and Grace. After all, isn't this what she wanted?
"Maybe," he said. "But I think that I do need to be around a wider range of people than other art students."
"You can get that at NYU . . ."
"Which we already established will be there in four years. If I'm going to go to a liberal arts college, I'd rather be with you and Grace than in New York surrounded by strangers. For now anyway."
Her emotions careening crazily inside her, Joan dropped her eyes to their joined hands. A part of her was elated that they would be together, but another part of her was terrified that Adam was making a mistake. This was his future and she wanted the best for him. The best had been laid out at his feet and, though UMD was a really good school, she wasn't convinced it was the right one for him.
"This isn't the reaction I expected," Adam said. "I thought you'd be, I don't know, happy. Excited."
She'd hurt his feelings. "Adam, it's not what you think. I'm doing cartwheels inside at the idea of us going to college together. I just . . . are you sure this is the best thing for you?"
Adam nodded. "UMD has a pretty good art department, Jane. I checked. Your mom checked, too."
His certainty overrode Joan's reserve. The joy she'd been holding at bay exploded inside her. "So, we're going to college together," she said, wonder filling her voice. She wasn't going to have to let him go after all.
"It looks that way. Is that all right with you?" Joan tugged his hand, pulling him and his swing close to her. She kissed him with every ounce of her joy and love. He leaned back and watched her eyes dance. "I'll take that as a yes."
"That's definitely a yes," she said, kissing him again. When she finally pulled back, they let the sounds of the night envelope them as they swung, content. Eventually, Joan broke the silence. "Hey, Adam?"
"Yeah?"
"Grace and I were planning a day trip to the campus on Monday. You want to come?"
Catching Joan's eye, Adam pulled her in for another kiss. When they finally came up for air, he said, "I can't think of a better way to spend our anniversary."
* * * * * * * * * * *
She shouldn't have lied to him. That was the conclusion Joan came to as she and Adam sat in an empty movie theater with a bucket of cooling popcorn and nothing to entertain them but the useless movie trivia on the screen and the monotonous music on the P.A. system. At the time, the lie had seemed reasonable. Joan snuck a glance at her watch and sighed. The movie didn't start for another twenty-five minutes.
Thoroughly disappointed in herself, Joan decided to take this quiet time to wallow. She knew it hadn't been a big lie, but that made it worse somehow. Was such an insignificant matter really worth lying about? One of the great things about her relationship with Adam was that they didn't lie to each other. Evade questions, yes, but never lie. Looking at some inane quote on the screen, Joan felt just short of wicked. They could have missed this.
She started when Adam took her hand in his and looked into his laughing eyes. He kissed the back of her hand then propped his chin on their linked fingers. "I forgive you."
"What?"
He grinned at her. "I forgive you."
Did he know? "For what?"
"For lying."
Joan felt sick. He knew. "I'm sorry," she said, bowing her head in shame.
Without releasing her hand, Adam put his arm around her and pulled her against his side. "It's okay, Jane."
"No, it's not. I lied to you."
"I gave you reason."
His willingness to forgive her only made her feel worse. "There's no reason good enough to lie over."
Adam kissed the furrow between her brows. "So you told me to come over forty-five minutes earlier than necessary. I haven't been punctual since … ever."
"It was still wrong."
"At least I'm getting to spend this time with you. I could be in my shed working myself to exhaustion." He shrugged. "This is better."
"You're sure."
Adam smiled at the vulnerable, anguished note in her voice. She was really taking this too seriously. "Yeah. Just don't do it again."
"Promise." Joan laid her head on his shoulder.
Two weeks had passed since he'd told her he was staying in Arcadia for a while. They had spent most of their spare time together just hanging out. They'd decided that reestablishing their friendship was the best course of action. So far, that plan was working out even though they hadn't shared as many random platonic kisses or held hands as often as they did now when they had been just friends.
Their time together had been good, but Joan was worried about Adam. Something was bothering him, she could feel it, but he wouldn't talk about it. She didn't want to push him; he'd talk when he was ready. But, in the meantime, he still wasn't sleeping. The bags under his eyes were getting worse. His habit of tuning out the world around him was more pronounced. And, despite the hours he spent working in his shed, he hadn't once asked her to see his new work or even shown any enthusiasm for it.
Her two best friends in the world were going through things and neither would let her help. She was a counselor, for goodness's sake. It was her job to help. Not being able to was driving her crazy.
"Talk to me."
Joan glanced up at his whisper. "About what?"
"Whatever's on your mind."
Staring into his eyes, she wondered if she should voice her concerns. Though things were going well for them, their relationship was still at a delicate stage. As the look in his eyes went from curious to uneasy, she decided to evade his request until she could think of something light to talk about. "Why are we whispering?"
In answer, Adam indicated the slowly filling theater with a tilt of his head. "Don't change the subject."
"So far, there is no subject."
"Jane," he said, "I know what you're doing. Whatever you were thinking was about me."
She lowered her eyes, not wanting him to see the depth of her worry.
"Talk to me, Jane."
The resigned understanding in his voice prompted her to admit what she'd been trying to hold in. "I'm just worried about you as usual."
"Why?"
"Because you're not sleeping, are you?"
He smiled. She always paid attention to his moods and appearance. Had he really thought she hadn't noticed the current changes in him? "No, not really."
Joan sighed, debating whether or not to pursue the topic. She glanced at her watch. They had fifteen minutes left before the movie started. Finally, she said, "Do you want to talk about it?"
"Not really, no," he answered with a shake of his head. "But I will because you'll only worry more if I don't."
"I don't want to pressure you."
"You're not." He chuckled lightly. "It's just . . . I haven't talked about this with anyone. It's hard."
She sat up and gave him her undivided attention. "Ready when you are."
Adam took a deep, calming breath. "It's my art. I think I've lost it."
"What do you mean, lost it?"
"I mean that the stuff I've been creating doesn't mean anything to me." He closed his eyes, not wanting to say the words out loud. "Sometimes, when I finish a piece, I don't recognize it. It's like it just appeared out of nowhere and I had nothing to do with its creation."
Joan took his other hand in hers. "I'm sorry."
He acknowledged her sympathy with a nod. "Sometimes though, something genuine like Jane gets through."
"Jane?"
"The piece I gave you."
"It's called Jane?" she asked.
Smiling at her surprised look, he nodded. "It's how I see you."
Joan rolled her eyes and muttered, "Organized chaos."
"Something like that," he admitted, making her laugh.
They fell silent as a couple squeezed past them to the middle of the row. Then Joan caught Adam's eye, all traces of amusement gone. "It's not going well, is it?"
"What?"
"Reconnecting with your art."
"No, it's not." He'd known she would realize that that was why he'd been working so hard. Trying to rediscover his vision, the joy he used to have when creating his pieces. Suddenly tired and depressed, he dropped his head on the back of his seat and prayed for the movie to start.
Joan propped her chin on his shoulder and kissed his cheek. "It'll happen."
"You think so?" Adam rolled his head toward her. She was so close, his lips were a hair's breadth away from hers.
"I do." She willed her eyes to stay on his, but they strayed to his mouth of their own volition. She swallowed as her eyes traced the outline of his lips in the dimming light. She had always been fascinated by his mouth. It was so endearing for a boy, even more so for a man. Without realizing what she was doing, she licked her own suddenly dry lips, making him gasp. Her eyes fluttered closed as his breath brushed her mouth. They leaned toward each other, eager to kiss for the first time in four years.
"Coming soon to a theater near you," the sound system boomed. They jerked upright. The theater was full and dark. The previews began to play across the screen. Their fifteen minutes were up.
Releasing their hold on each other, they settled into their seats, making sure they didn't touch. Joan's heart pounded wildly in her chest. She felt like crying in frustration even though she knew they weren't ready to move on to kissing yet. They were still reconnecting as friends; reconnecting as lovers was something they needed to work up to. After all, they still had two separate lives in two separate cities. But, oh, he was so close.
She snuck a peek at Adam out of the corner of her eye. He sat with one arm across his stomach. His chin was propped in his other hand, which covered his mouth. He stared at the screen as if his sanity depended on it. Fighting the urge to push him back in his seat and kiss him senseless, Joan decided that she'd follow his example. They were going to do this right, even if killed her.