Bridge of Sighs

Noonan, it was unsettling to be so confused. He could read most girls, whose level of interest in him was like a visible aura. They could be as coy as they wanted, but he still knew. It was almost cheating, really, like shooting fish in a barrel. With Sarah, though, it was different. She made no secret of how glad she was they were friends. That should’ve clarified matters, but instead it confused them. Could it be that her undisguised affection was the
source
of his confusion? It was possible. Most of the girls who were drawn to Noonan didn’t like him very much. At the beginning they didn’t know that, which was good, and even after they learned it, they sometimes forgot, which could be nice, too. Was it the fact that Sarah actually
liked
him that muddled things?
    The other possible explanation was even more distressing. What if it had nothing to do with her affection for him, but rather his for her? Tessa Lynch, damn her, had warned him that he’d be interested in Sarah once he got to know her. Had he fallen for her? He’d been attracted to lots of girls before without ever really falling for one. The solution was obvious. He simply wouldn’t fall for Sarah Berg. It shouldn’t even be that difficult, now that he’d made up his mind. Maybe she wasn’t the bony, angular girl who’d left in June, but she wasn’t exactly a ravishing beauty either. And besides, she was Lucy’s girlfriend. There. It was settled.
    Still, he looked forward to school starting and wondered if they’d have any classes together. Probably not. His academic record at the academy hadn’t warranted advanced placement, which was why, when Sarah advised him on the drive back to Thomaston to drop Mrs. Summers and sign up for her father’s honors English class, he’d feigned uninterest, not wanting to admit he wouldn’t qualify. With any luck, Sarah had a weak subject herself, maybe math, that would land her in one of his regular-track classes. Or else he could elect an art class. He’d never taken one—art hadn’t even been offered at the academy—but how hard could it be? During the summer he’d often studied Sarah’s drawing of Ikey Lubin’s and even wondered what role it might’ve played in pulling him, against his better judgment, into Lynch World. Would he have enjoyed Ikey’s as much if he hadn’t seen it through her eyes? He liked the idea of getting people to see things as he did without them even being aware of what he’d done. Now
that
would be a trick worth knowing.

A DREAM OF FISH
     
    M RS. S UMMERS, Noonan’s homeroom teacher, regarded him blackly over the top of her bifocals, her mouth drawn into a thin line. Was it possible she disliked him already on the basis of how he’d said “Here” when she called his name? “See me before you leave for first period,” she told him, eliciting a nasty chuckle from Perry Kozlowski. Ten minutes into the new school year and Marconi’s already in trouble, the chuckle seemed to signify. Same old Bobby.
    “There’s been a change in your classes,” the teacher informed him as the other students filed out of homeroom. “You’ve been added to Mr. Berg’s roster.” She was holding what he assumed was his revised schedule.
    “Really?” he said, surprised, then thought:
Sarah.
So, even as he’d been hoping they might have a class together, she’d been doing the same thing. At last, a clear signal.
    “I don’t blame you for being surprised,” Mrs. Summers said, clearly annoyed, though apparently not at him. “Honors is supposed to be reserved for our best and brightest students.”
    “Right,” he said, half expecting her to realize she’d just insulted him and apologize.
    “That man thinks the rules are for other people,” she went on, growing red faced. “That
he
is exempt.”
    “Well,” Noonan said, holding out his hand for the schedule, then dropping it again when he saw it wasn’t forthcoming.
    “It’s not
bad
enough I have to spend my summer explaining to every Jewish mother I meet on Hudson Street why her child wasn’t selected for honors English, while he hides at home pretending to write that stupid book,” she told him, clutching the schedule close to her massive bosom. She seemed to understand that it was the only thing that held him there and after surrendering it she’d be talking to herself.
    “If—”
    “It’s not
bad
enough he hogs all the honors classes for himself, as if the rest of us were unqualified. It’s