Despite my fury toward his father and the insulting proposal he had made to me.. I had to admit to myself that what he had predicted was coming true anyway. Balwin began to take better care of himself He loosened up, wore less formal clothing, actually had his hair styled and began to do more vigorous exercise and lose weight. I started to wonder if Balwin didn't suspect something because he began to report his losses to me on a regular basis, almost as if he believed I had some sort of personal stake in his physical improvement. After two and a half weeks, he was down ten pounds and it became very apparent in his face. His cheeks lost their plumpness and I thought he looked a lot more handsome.
Exercise made him proud of his budding muscularity. One afternoon, he just had to roll up his sleeves to show me his emerging biceps.
"My father's happy because I'm finally making use of the expensive weight lifting equipment he bought me three years ago."
I felt funny encouraging him. I couldn't help experiencing the guilt, even though I had specifically and vehemently turned down his father's offer. Nevertheless. Balwin was so excited and proud about his process. I had to compliment him.
He no longer avoided physical education classes and he began to make friends with boys who previously had no use for him. Now they were inviting him to participate in their pickup basketball games and then, nearly a month after the fight he had had with Joey Adamson, I saw the two of them talking and joking with each other between classes as if they had been lifelong friends.
Even Thelma Williams began to eat her own words because some of her girlfriends were making positive remarks about Balwin's new look.
Reluctantly, she approached me after our physical education class and said. "Looks like you're having a good influence on your man."
She spoke the words as though they each left the taste of rotten eggs in her mouth.
"Whatever he does, he does because he wants to do it. Not because of me," I said. "'And he's not my man. He's his own man," I snapped.
Everyone's eyebrows went up. Even I was changing, talking more these days, and they all took note of it.
Thelma smirked looked at the others and shook her head.
"Sure," she said. "'Just shut him off and you'll see whose man he is and whose he isn't."
They all laughed and walked on, leaving me pondering what they all believed. Balwin and I had hardly exchanged a friendly kiss. What made them assume otherwise? Was it simply our spending so much time with each other?
"It's the music." I told Arlene Martin and Betty Lipkowski one afternoon when they asked me why I spent so much time with Balwin as compared to some of the better-looking, more outgoing boys who had shown interest in me.
"Music?" Arlene asked.
"Balwin feels it like I do. When we're doing a song together, we're connected. We touch each other more deeply. In here." I said with my hand over my breast. "and here," I added pointing to my temple.
They sat there staring at me for a moment. Then Betty shook her head and smiled.
"You make it sound like sex," she said with an air of jealousy. "Maybe it's better than sex," I said.
The two looked at each other and then gazed at me as if I was truly insane. Soon, there was something else about me and Balwin, something else to fill the pot of gossip and to be stirred and spread. Betty and Arlene were telling people we were in some kind of weird, kinky- relationship related to music. It kept us on the idle-chatter theater marquee, kept us moving through spotlights and made us aware of every word we said to each other, every touch or smile. It was as if we both felt we were under glass, in the camera's eye, being recorded. Ironically, it made Balwin even more self-conscious about his appearance and he looked more handsome.
When I sang in chorus now. I could feel everyone's eyes and ears on me, watching how I gazed at Balwin behind the piano, all of them looking for some special light, some special sin that would reveal the magic we shared. I suppose I sang even better. I know I sang louder. but Mr. Glenn 1.xras very pleased.
"This will be the best concert ever," he predicted.
Two nights before the concert. Balwin picked me up for another special rehearsal at his house. He had completed his song about me and wanted me to hear all of that as well as complete our preparations for my second audition number. His father, pleased with Balwin's physical changes, was talking about buying him his own car.
"He told me if I was going to have girlfriends and dates and such, there would be a greater need for my own transportation. I didn't even bring it up!" he cried, ecstatic over his father's new face.
Whenever his father greeted me now, he always wore a very pleased smile. Balwin said it was having an effect on their whole family. When his father was happy, his mother was happy.
"I can't believe the changes that have come over my home these past few weeks," he told me as we
drove to his house. "My father and I actually talk to each other these days. I don't know how to explain it. but I'm sure it has a lot to do with you," he added.
"Me? Why?" I asked quickly. He shrugged.
"I said I don't know how to explain it. All I know. Ice, is ever since you and I started working together, the world turned into rainbow colors from the gray and black it used to be. You're just going to have to accept the compliment," he insisted.
I turned from him, feeling my heart skip beats. These were nice things to hear said about me, but somehow they made me very anxious. It was as if my heart knew more than my brain and with every beat was warning me that rainbows don't come until after the storm.
We had yet to have the real storm.