“Are you insulting me?” he asked, stepping closer.
“If you think being American is an insult, then yes, I guess I am,” I answered, moving forward until the toes of his boots were touching my tennis shoes. “I, on the other hand, believe that everyone except those guys who grabbed me in Cairo is the same, equal, not one bit better than anyone else.”
He turned away from me as he spoke. “I’m cursed, Jan. I’m not the same as everyone else.”
I gaped at him. With an open mouth and everything. “Cursed? First you’re an ancient troublemaker god, and now you’re cursed? What’s next, the plague?”
I had to tug on his arm until he turned back to face me. “You’re making fun of me again, but it’s the truth. I’m Set. I’m cursed.”
I whapped him on the chest. Not hard enough to hurt, but with just enough impact so he’d know I was serious when I said what I had to say. “You know what? You’ve got Set on the brain. You’re Set-obsessed. You’re a Set fanatic, a Set groupie, that’s what you are. You really need to get a life, Seth.”
His breath hissed out as the words exploded from him. “You don’t think I want a life? I’m to be kept here, working for my mother while Cy is sent to the States, to go to school at the University of Chicago. He is to be the Egyptologist. He is the golden child, the one everyone likes while my wishes, my hopes are ignored because I am the evil one. Do not tell me to get a life, Jan. I am not allowed to have one.”
“Oh,” I said, my chest tight at the look of pain on his face. Even in the light of the moon I could see how much he was hurting. I’ve been called a drama-queen before (by my brothers, who obviously don’t know what they’re talking about), but I knew deep down in the pit of my stomach that Seth was not indulging in a drama queen scene. I just wanted to hug him and make all the hurt go away, but he was a guy, a hottalicious guy, and I was me, and although he said he liked me, I didn’t want him back to thinking I was immodest or anything. “I’m sorry, Seth. That’s not fair, is it? You should have just as much a chance at going to college back home as Cy has. Can you try for a scholarship, maybe? My school guidance counselor is always going on about scholarships…”
He shook his head, his face stark. “I’m not a US Citizen.”
“Pooh. Well, maybe something will work out. Maybe if your parents see how hard you’re working on the walls, they’ll realize that you really are serious about going to college. Maybe we could put in some overtime on the lintel? I bet if we got it done fast, that would show them that you deserve to go with Cy. We could work at night, after dinner. What do you think?”
He stared at me as if I had frogs sitting on my head. “Didn’t you hear me say I was cursed? That everyone who I like ends up getting hurt?”
“Yeah, I heard you but—” I made a face my mother always called wry. “—I just don’t think it matters. Even if you are cursed—and I don’t believe in curses—you’re still you. You’re nice, and really sweet even when you frown, and I like you. A lot. I’m not going to avoid you, if that’s what you think. Uh…unless you really don’t want me to be around, and you’re just using that curse thing as an excuse, in which case—”
I swear to god, I didn’t know what he was going to do until he was right there, his hands on my arms, his face blocking out the moon as I blinked in surprise. One minute I was standing there feeling kind of sick because I figured that he might just be using the curse to get rid of me, and the next minute his mouth was on mine, warm and soft and all sorts of other wonderful words that I suddenly couldn’t think of because my brain stopped working. I just stood there and let him kiss me, too stupid to kiss him back, too stupid to even realize that he was kissing me until it was over.
My brain clicked back on then. Idiot brain. I touched one finger to my lips. They were tingling, and even though Seth wasn’t kissing me any more, my lips felt like he was. “You kissed me!”
He took a step back.
“You really kissed me. Wow!”
“I’m sorry,” he said, his face going all tight and embarrassed. “I shouldn’t have, but I thought you wouldn’t mind. I won’t do it agai—”
I threw myself against him, worrying for a second about what I was supposed to do with my arms (around his neck? his back? waist? left hanging at my sides?), but in the end, I focused on kissing him back. I kissed one corner of his mouth, then the other corner, waited for a second to see if he was going to back off or grab my boobs (like one of the guys at school did), but Seth didn’t do either. He put his hands on my hips and pulled me tighter against him, his wonderful leathery-spicy smell wrapping around me as I very, very gently pressed my lips against his. It was the best kiss in the whole, entire, enormously big world. It went on and on and on, and in the end, I slid my hands up his chest and locked them behind his neck, my fingers tangling in his long hair as I kissed him, and he kissed me, and we kissed each other out in the middle of Egypt, under an almost full moon.
“Wow,” I said again when I peeled myself off his chest. I didn’t want to stop kissing him, but I hadn’t quite figured out how I was supposed to breath with my face squished up against his, not to mention the fact that even with our faces apart, I was still having problems getting air into my lungs. My legs felt shaky, and my heart raced, and I wanted to sing and dance and stand at the edge of the plateau and shout down into the wadi that Seth kissed me! He liked me! “So I guess this means you aren’t using the curse thing as an excuse?”
He laughed. It was a low, velvety rumbling sort of sound that made me shiver. “I’ve never met anyone like you, Jan. You’re funny and smart, and you’re not afraid to say what you think. I like that.”
“Even if I have bare arms?” I teased, still squished against him with my hands behind his neck.
“I like your bare arms,” he growled, and turned his head to kiss the exposed part of my arm.
I shivered.
“Cold?” he asked.
“Not really. Well, OK, a little. But I like you kissing me, so if you don’t want to stop, I don’t mind being cold.”
He laughed again, and peeled off his leather coat to sling over me. I thought about telling him he should wear it, but it was nice and warm, and it smelled like him, so instead I just snuggled into it and watched as he put the telescope away in a nearby tent. We started walking toward the main camp, and I wondered if I should take his hand like I did before, or if that would be too pushy. Would he like it more if I made the first move re: hands, or should I let him?
“What are you frowning about?”
The camp was just ahead of us. I didn’t have much time before we would be back with everyone, and that meant I wouldn’t be able to hold his hand. Not in front of everyone. “I was wondering if you’d like it more if I held your hand, or if you wanted me to wait for you to hold mine.”
He stopped and grabbed my arm, turning me to face him. “Do you mean that?”
“Well, yeah!” I wrung my hands, something I didn’t think you could really do until I found myself standing there on the fringes of the camp, wringing my hands. “I’m sorry if you think I’m really stupid or something, but this is kind of new to me. I mean, I know all about guys and stuff—I do have four older sisters—but you’re the first guy who’s really kissed me and all, and I wasn’t sure whether it’s cool for me to hold your hand, or if you’re the kind of guy who wants to be the holder rather than the holdee. Especially since you’re…you know…Muslim, and there are all those rules about touching people and stuff.”
“It really matters to you what you think I want?”
I rolled my eyes. “Duh!”
He stood there silent for a few seconds, just watching me with those soft brown eyes of his. “You know what I like the most about you, Jan?”
I couldn’t help myself; I glanced down at my chest. The ballet top didn’t do much to hide the fact that I had what Scott, the guy at school who had copped a grope, called bodacious mams.
“No, not that,” Seth said, his face se
rious.
“Then what?” I asked, a little bit insulted. He didn’t like my boobs? Every guy liked my boobs! What was wrong with him? He hadn’t tried to touch them, not once, not even when we were kissing.
“I like the fact that you’re not like most girls here—you do what you want, you say what you think, and you don’t sacrifice your happiness for anyone. You’re the bravest person I know, next to my mother.”
“Oh,” I said stupidly, blushing like mad because of the nice things he was saying. About me, Jan James, girl idiot! The warm spot in my stomach spread out to my arms and legs, making me want to shout and sing again. I looked down to where his hand was holding onto my arm and smiled. “So that means you liked it when I grabbed your hand before?”
“Does it matter if I liked it?”
“Yeah, it does, because I wouldn’t want to hold hands with a guy who didn’t like it, but you kissed me first, and you said you liked me, so I think I will go ahead and hold your hand.”
“If you want to.”
“I do. Because I like you, too. You’re interesting, Seth, and you’re not like the other guys here. You’re different.” Pain flashed in his eyes. I grabbed the hand that was on my arm, and twined my fingers through his. “But it’s a good different.”
His fingers squeezed mine. “We’d better be getting back before my mother comes looking for us. She hates it when I go off alone.”
“You’re not alone now,” I told him as we walked toward the lights of the camp.
Just as I was thinking that maybe it would be a good thing if I were to kiss him, a bulky shadow next to a tent suddenly divided, two people stepping forward into the small pool of light from a nearby camp.
“Good evening,” Dag said in a harsh voice as she hurriedly buttoned the top couple buttons of her shirt. She slid a guilty gaze to the small, dark man who emerged beside her. “It is night out most pleasant, yes? Mr. Massan was assistancing me. I had smut in my eyeball.”
Seth said something noncommittal as we walked by them.
“I’m willing to bet you the smut wasn’t just in her eye,” I whispered, glancing back at them. Dag was patting her hair and fussing with her shirt in a flustered manner while Mr. Massan straightened his tie. “Who knew Dag and Mr. Massan were gettin’ it on?”
Seth waggled his fingers in mine. “They’ve been doing that for months. Everyone knows about it.”
I glanced back again, but they had disappeared into the darkness. “This seems to be the night for kissing.”
“I thought you’d never ask,” Seth said, pulling me into the deep, black shadow of the pack tent.
BOYS SUCK—SCIENTIFIC PROOF PROVIDED BY TEEN JOURNALIST
“There you are! I was looking for you.” Izumi glided toward me, carefully balancing a cup of punch beneath a small plate of cake. “Hello Seth. Your mother was asking where you were. She said she can’t open her presents until you were here. Jan, I brought you some cake. Where have you been?”
I handed Seth back his jacket as he mumbled something to Izumi before going over to where his mother was yoo-hooing and waving her hand at him.
“Thanks, but I probably shouldn’t. It’s not on my diet.”
“It’s a party,” Izumi said, shoving the cake and punch into my hands. “You can stop worrying about yourself for one night, can’t you?”
“I suppose so.”
She was about to go off and watch Kay open her pressies (the conservation team had chipped in and bought her a pretty reproduction antique Egyptian vase), but stopped to give me another one of her tipped-head once-overs. “You look different. How do you say…glowy.”
“Glowing?” I grinned.
“Yes, that’s it, glowing. You’re glowing. As if you have a very good secret. Why are you glowing?”
“Maybe I do have a very good secret.”
She grinned back at me and gave my arm a little squeeze before leaving. “I hope it’s a very bad good secret!”
I stood around and glowed for a bit before settling beside Connor to watch Kay do the present thing. I’d met him only the day before, but he seemed nice. “Hi, Connor.”
“Hi. I didn’t see you at lunch today. Were you sick or something?”
“Nope,” I said as everyone applauded the vase. Connor was a bit pitty smelling, but I figured he probably hadn’t had a chance to have a bath yet. Izumi said that water was rationed for the people at the camp, which made me appreciate being on the conservation team. I might have to work in the hottest part of the tomb, but at least I could take a bath each day. “I was fasting. Ramadan, you know.”
“Oh. I didn’t know you were going to do that.”
I made a face. “Yeah, well, it took me a couple of days to get used to the heat and stuff, but I think I’m OK now. How are you doing?”
“All right. It’s fun here, don’t you think?”
I smiled at Seth, who was edging his way toward one of the doors in the tent. Poor guy, I knew just how he felt. Kay made a big deal over him when we showed up, but it was clear from the worker’s faces when he walked over to stand by Cy that they weren’t at all happy about seeing him. “Yeah, fun.”
“The people are nice, too.” Connor looked across the tent to where a cluster of girls were standing. “What do you think of Chloe?”
“Chloe?” It was on the tip of my tongue to make a snotty comment about her addiction to lip gloss, but I was so happy, I decided to be nice. Besides, she wasn’t really bad, even if she did make the snarky comment about me having a water bottle in my pants. And she could smile at Seth all she wanted, he liked me. “She’s nice. Do you like her?”
He made that guy shoulder move, the half-a-shrug thing that boys do when they don’t want you to know they care about something. “She’s all right.”
“Uh huh. Right.” I grinned at him as he shot me a questioning look. “You know, the moon is almost full. It’s very romantic.”
“Romantic?”
He stared at me until I nudged him with my elbow. “Yeah, romantic. As in, kissing.”
His eyes got big.
“Chloe just went outside a minute ago,” I pointed out, feeling very helpful and benevolent and all that biz. “I bet if you were to be wandering around, you would run into her.”
He thought about that for a second, then was gone with only a “Thanks, Jan!” tossed over his shoulder.
I sat back, pleased with myself. I stayed pleased for the next half hour or so, while everyone ate more cake, guzzled punch (orange and mango juice), and danced more to gacky seventies songs (excuse me, disco is dead for a reason!). I chatted with Sayed, Izumi, and the French girl (or tried to), but got a bit worried when I realized that Seth was gone.
I had just left the tent, wondering if he was waiting outside for me, when Cy walked up from the path that led down to the valley. He stopped in front of me, the gold necklace of hieroglyphs—the symbols for a throne sitting on top of an eye—glinting dully in the moonlight. I knew enough after having worked in the tomb all week to know that was the hieroglyphs for the name Osiris. “Looking for my brother?”
“Um. Maybe. Yeah. Do you know where he is?”
Cy smiled, gesturing behind him. “He’s down there.”
I peered past him. The path to the valley floor was curved just enough that I couldn’t see if anyone was on it. “Oh. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” he said politely, but that smile was back in his eyes and his voice. It made me want to slap him, but instead I fisted my hands and started down the path, careful to keep to the side nearest the cliff face so I wouldn’t slip and go off the end.
Midway down the path it twisted. As I rounded the big boulder that marked the turn, I skidded to a stop, feeling as if someone had just kicked me in the chest. About ten feet in front of me, standing with a flashlight shining up in their faces, Seth was kissing another girl, a girl who was wearing his leather jacket just like I had done almost an hour before, a girl whose lips were no doubt sparkly and marionberry-
flavored and well lubricated.
Seth was kissing Chloe.
His hands were on her arms, and he was kissing her.
She was leaning into him, kissing him back.
A horrible sobbing noise choked in my throat. I spun around, tears blinding me as I scrambled back up the path.
He was kissing her! Everything he had said to me had been a lie. He was probably laughing at me the whole time, feeling sorry for poor pathetic Jan who actually thought he liked her.
I don’t really remember how I made it back to the monastery. I have a vague memory of walking down the dirt road that led into town (and past the monastery). I think I heard dogs bark, goats bleat, and night birds calling to each other. I barely recall stumbling over rocks a couple of times, but that’s about it. The rest of the walk home was blur in my mind, a long, painful, “my life has ended, please let me die now” blur.
I even pretended to be asleep when Izumi came in. I didn’t want to talk to her. I didn’t want to see that look in her eyes, the one I saw so often at home, the one that reflected what a pathetic loser I was.
I had a major pity party, one that lasted through the long, sleepless hours of the night, and into the bright morning. Not even Kay coming in to check on me (Izumi was worried I was seriously ill) dragged me out of my wallow in self-pity.
“I think it would be best if you stay here today rather than washing the walls,” Kay said, doing that mom thing with the hand-on-the-forehead-fever-check before drifting out the door. “You look a bit peaked, and your mother would never forgive me if I let her beloved daughter get ill.”
Beloved! Ha. What a laugh that was. No one loved me, no one at all. Mom had Rob and all her other children, Seth had that evil lip gloss hussy Chloe, and I had no one. Not one single, solitary person would care if I dropped down dead right at that moment.
My Inner Jan rose up in revolt at that point, all but gacking at the pity party that had turned into a pity marathon. Who needs Seth? Inner Jan asked. We certainly got along just peachy cheesin’ keen without him until now.