Girls with Bright Futures

by Tracy Dobmeier

  Jeez, was Amanda flirting with him? Amanda and her husband, John, had recently finalized their divorce, and she hadn’t been shy about sharing details of her Tinder-driven sexual awakening. Kelly held back a dry heave. The Bryan Stone described in image pieces written about Alicia made him sound sophisticated and evolved, a man who “leaned in” to support his successful wife. That guy in no way matched the reality of the cocky man-child sitting across from her, legs spread wide like he was presenting his dick as a gift to be unwrapped by the lucky ladies of the SST.

  “Can you guys believe what happened to Winnie over the weekend?” Bryan said. “Insane, right?”

  His words were greeted with about the same degree of shock as if he’d taken a crap on the floor right in front of them. All eyes swiveled from Bryan to Kelly. “It’s crazy. I mean, who would do such a thing?” she said, feeling her cheeks grow hot. “I went to see Ted Clark this morning, and he assured me that our students’ safety is his highest priority and he will be sending out information to the community later today.” She hoped the group would realize and spread the word that if she’d gone to meet with Ted Clark, she couldn’t possibly be guilty.

  “Alicia has her security team looking into it,” Bryan said, scratching the stubble on his chin. “They’re tracking down a lot of leads right now.”

  Kelly shuddered, wondering if Alicia’s crack security team would be able to figure out what had happened to Winnie. She couldn’t deny she was worried. “Has anyone heard how Winnie’s doing?”

  From the uncomfortable silence, it was obvious that none of the women had bothered to reach out to Maren with a supportive text. Herself included. They’d all been too focused on guessing whodunit and helping their kids finish their early admission applications. Kelly heard a story about one dad who was so obsessed with proofreading his son’s application to Columbia that he had missed his uncle’s funeral in Arizona.

  “I just feel so horrible,” Amanda said. “After everything Winnie’s been through, I hope she gets exactly what she wants for college.”

  Yeah right. As long as it’s not Duke? Kelly mentally challenged Amanda’s pandering declaration.

  “Oh, I know,” Augusta said. “Bless their hearts. Maren and Winnie are so sweet.”

  “Actually, I woke up this morning thinking we need to set up a meal train,” Amanda continued. “After that kind of scare, I’m sure they could use our support.”

  “That’s such a great idea,” Diana said. “Poor Winnie—and after she’s worked so hard at EBA.”

  Kelly couldn’t believe her ears. This was the same woman who only last week was calling for Winnie’s expulsion. But Kelly figured she might as well follow the lead of all the other women eager to clear their names from the suspect list. “You know, I’m running to Costco tomorrow. I can grab something for the first meal train slot.”

  “That’s awesome. I’ll take the next spot,” Sarah chimed in. “Honestly, I can’t believe no one ever warned us how brutal this whole college process would be. I for one can’t wait for it to be over. And I hope all our kids get what they want.”

  “I think that’s something we can all agree on,” Kelly said. “Anyway, back to our agenda. I’m thrilled to announce Diana has been able to secure the use of a spectacular yacht on Lake Union for Snowcoming. Thank you so much, Diana.”

  Diana beamed. “My pleasure!”

  Kelly continued, “So in light of the floating location, I thought it would be amazing for the kids if we made it a Noah’s Ark theme. Maybe decorate the yacht with giant pairs of stuffed animals hanging from the ceiling?”

  “Hmm, I don’t think my friend would allow decorations to be attached to the interior,” Diana said.

  “Well, I’m sure Maren can figure out a way to do it without damaging anything,” Kelly said.

  “That’s true,” Diana said. “She’s a magician, that one!”

  Kelly tried not to barf right there on the table.

  “Um, Bryan,” Sarah said, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Maren didn’t happen to give you an update on the celebrity for the big assembly?”

  “Celebrity? Oh right, yeah, hold on.” Bryan reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. “Yeah, she sent me an email. I just gotta find it.”

  “Oh thank goodness,” Sarah said, barely able to contain her relief, a feeling that was mirrored on the faces of the women around the table. Per usual, Maren had it all under control, and no one actually serving on the committee would be called upon to do the work themselves.

  “OK, yeah, here it is,” Bryan said, skimming the email and scrunching up his face. “Looks like it’s in the works.”

  “In the works? That’s it?” Kelly said.

  “What’s the big deal? I’m sure it will all work out.” Bryan leaned back in his chair. “It’s just a stupid announcement for a dance, right? Explain to me why there needs to be a celebrity?”

  Now Kelly could see his legs splayed so far apart they were touching Amanda on one side and nearly reaching Sarah on the other. Was it still called manspreading when it crossed over into foreplay? “Well, Bryan,” Kelly responded, fighting to maintain her composure. “It’s called school tra-di-tion. Last year’s SST got Russell Wilson to do it, and I do not want to be the one to disappoint our kids with a lame showing. In case you hadn’t noticed, our kids have to work so hard to get into college that many of them are depressed, anxious, cutting, anorexic, and even suicidal. It’s the SST’s responsibility to plan activities to help reduce their stress and have a little fun. So hoping it all works out really doesn’t cut it for this group.”

  “Wow, someone needs to Netflix and chill.” Bryan chuckled, his eyes sweeping the room.

  Unable to control themselves, the other women laughed out loud before quickly stifling their reactions. Kelly hoped that only she could smell her flop sweat. It wasn’t hard to miss that everyone was avoiding eye contact with her.

  “You know, I’ve been thinking.” Diana’s voice turned sassy. “Why should the kids have all the fun? We should have a stress buster for the parents while the kids are at their dance!” She clapped her hands together, applauding her own suggestion.

  “Oh my God, that’s the best idea!” Sarah squealed.

  “It will be so fun! Maren can help me.” Diana covered her mouth with her hand and let out a playful laugh. “Oopsy. Bryan, is it OK if I use Maren for this?”

  Bryan looked up from his phone and shrugged. “Fine by me.”

  “Does that work for you and the SST, Kelly?” Diana asked.

  If Diana wanted to spend her own time and money planning one of her infamous over-the-top parties, who was Kelly to stop her? Besides, it wasn’t like parents could go to Snowcoming as chaperones anyway. After homecoming, the administration had sent out an email that parent volunteers would no longer be needed for school events, which was a polite way of saying they were banned. Apparently, the chaperones had been too busy gathering gossip and photographing the kids to notice the illicit drinking taking place under their noses. “Fine by me, Diana. As long as you’re not counting on the SST budget to cover more than a few snacks. Anyway, I think we’re done here.” Kelly sprang to her feet and adjourned the meeting.

  Amanda wasn’t quite done though. “So, Kelly, just to confirm…you’re doing the first meal train delivery for Maren and Winnie, right? Tomorrow?” She scribbled on the makeshift calendar she’d drawn on the backside of her SST meeting agenda. “Just want to make sure they know they have our full support.”

  “Yes, Amanda. I said I would,” Kelly huffed over her shoulder as she tore out of the room and headed to the parking lot.

  The second she reached the safety of her car, she ripped free the damp underarm sweat pads. They’d done their job and deserved a five-star Amazon review. But more disgusting than the used sweat pads now adhering to her dashboard was the way the entire room had sucke
d up to Bryan. Even worse, it was obvious that every single one of those women was now rooting for Winnie. Or at least pretending to be. What a difference a week made.

  * * *

  From: Ted Clark, Today, 2:55 p.m.

  To: EBA Senior Class Parents, Guardians, EBA Senior Class

  Subject: EBA Community Values

  Dear EBA Seniors, Parents, and Guardians,

  As you may have heard, EBA senior Winnie Pressley was in a scooter accident over the weekend. Soon after the accident, she received a threatening text related to college. Winnie is recovering well from her injuries and is hoping to return to school next week. The police are actively investigating the accident and the text. If you have any information, please see me or contact the Seattle East Precinct directly.

  Student safety is our highest priority. We have a security guard posted outside the school throughout the day, we have monitored cameras at all doors, and we’ve implemented a host of other tools, strategies, and emergency systems.

  We understand that the college admissions process is a time of uncertainty, excitement, and high anxiety. However, it’s critical that we never lose sight of EBA’s community values. While what happened to Winnie is both extreme and abhorrent, it is far from the only instance of egregious behavior during this particular college admissions cycle.

  We remind you of the following (especially parents and guardians, who have been the biggest offenders—by far—in each of these categories of misdeeds):

  • Do not provide information, anonymous or otherwise, to the school about another student or, in the case of parents and guardians, about any student for whom you are not legally responsible. This includes information about a student’s finances, ethnic and religious background, family, athletic résumé, cyberactivity, sexual orientation, sexual history, recreational drug use, moving violations, academic violations, and school attendance records. In case you are wondering, these are real examples of communications we’ve received about students this fall alone. This shall hereafter be known as the Golden Rule, EBA college edition.

  • Do not solicit information about another student from the administration or faculty members.

  • Do not contact any college or university with information about another student, whether anonymously or not.

  • Do not monitor social media looking for damaging information about other students.

  • Do not pressure students or parents to share college application plans, and do not gossip about who is applying where.

  • Do not make judgmental comments about any colleges. It’s unkind and obnoxious—and makes all students feel unnecessary anxiety.

  • Do not bring cookies, treats, or other gifts to the college counseling office.

  • Do not come to the college counseling office without an appointment. Parents will no longer be allowed to loiter in or near the office after several suspected instances of eavesdropping.

  • Do not lie in wait in the parking lot for college counselors. They will not talk to you about college outside the confidential office environment.

  • Do not ask the college counselors how much money you should donate to X university to guarantee extra consideration for your child. There is no magic number, and if there was, we would not share it with you.

  • Do not threaten violence or inflict bodily harm on an EBA student. Ever. Shaking my head that I even have to type these words. Yet here we are.

  In case these rules are not clear or comprehensive enough, there is really only one question you need to ask yourself when considering any college-related action: Might this make me look like a gigantic elephant’s asshole? If yes, just don’t.

  We have a wonderful senior class, and I have every hope and expectation that each student will find their best college fit.

  Sincerely,

  Ted Clark

  Head of School

  P.S. Please forgive my use of colorful language, but I’ve tried every nonprofane way I can think of to get these points across in previous emails, private conversations with parents and students, and impassioned remarks at assemblies. Here’s hoping the message finally gets through. Because frankly, your EBA faculty and administration are all VFT (very fucking tired).

  20

  Maren

  After a full day spent catching up on paperwork and shuttling back and forth between the kitchen and Winnie’s bedroom, Maren had just turned on the stove to heat up a carton of tomato soup for dinner when the doorbell rang. Tiptoeing to the door, she peered through the cloudy peephole. On the other side was the distorted face of Kelly Vernon, clearly trying to get a reverse glimpse through the looking glass. Until this fall, Maren had always thought of Kelly as an annoying but basically harmless ninny. But maybe she had underestimated Kelly. Perhaps she was more like those no-see-um bugs Maren used to dread as a kid when her parents took her to Florida on vacation—you barely noticed them until suddenly you’d been bitten a hundred times. Or your kid had been run off the road. All Maren wanted to do was eat her soup and go to bed, but instead, she smoothed her hair and straightened her back as she unlocked the deadbolt and opened the door. “Hi, Kelly, what a surprise.”

  “Hi, Maren. Amanda set up a meal train for you guys, and I took the first slot. Sorry for not texting first, but I brought you this Costco lasagna. How’s Winnie’s feeling? We’re all so worried about her.”

  Kelly’s face was studiously grim, her lips drooping awkwardly at the corners and eyebrows so pinched that the overall effect resembled an excruciating piece of performance art. But at least she came bearing free food. “Gosh, thank you. Do you want to come in?” Please say no.

  “Oh! I don’t want to intrude! But OK, maybe just for a minute,” Kelly said, already several steps into the living room, which doubled as the front entry in their small but tidy home. Kelly took in the entire house with one glance, her eyes landing on the boot tray by the door with Winnie’s and Maren’s shoes neatly arranged. She appeared to be weighing whether she should remove her sneakers as Maren had seen her do so automatically at Alicia’s house. “Oops—sorry about my shoes! I’ll only stay a minute.” She must have decided worrying about disgusting street germs was a luxury of wealth, sort of like buying organic.

  “Thank you for thinking of us. Here, let me take that off your hands.” Maren’s arms almost gave way under the weight of the massive tray. “This will definitely come in handy, especially once Winnie is back to solid foods.” She walked into the kitchen with Kelly at her heels and set the frozen tray of lasagna on the counter. It would never fit into Maren’s freezer, and probably not even into her apartment-sized oven. But if she let it thaw a bit, she could slice it into serving size pieces and refreeze the extra portions.

  “Oh! I didn’t hear all the details of her injuries,” Kelly said. “Did she break her jaw?”

  “No, thank goodness. But the side of her face is covered in road rash and bruises, so she’s really sore.” Maren snuck a peek at the closed bedroom door and prayed Winnie would stay put. Four days after the accident, Winnie was still foggy and listless. She had a constant headache and struggled to find a comfortable sleeping position with her broken arm, the surgical site, and all the scrapes and bruises. Winnie was still in such bad shape that it might raise suspicion about whether she’d been able to apply to Stanford by the deadline of her own volition. The last thing Maren needed was to get hauled into EBA again for another Ted Clark interrogation.

  “Poor Winnie,” Kelly said. “It’s just so awful what happened to her.”

  “I honestly never thought applying to college could be so dangerous,” Maren said.

  “Do you have any idea who could have done this to her? That threat was so terrifying.”

  “No clue.” Maren shrugged but kept her eyes trained on Kelly’s facial expressions in case she gave anything up. “I’m leaving that to the police.”

  “Oh
right. Of course. I mean, I’m sure they’re on top of it.”

  Maren nodded. Was Kelly’s flustered reaction a sign of guilt? “At first, they thought there might not be enough evidence to pursue an investigation, but I guess the threat changed their minds. It sounds like the police will be poking around EBA and interviewing all the families with kids applying to Stanford for starters.”

  “You know, there’s a rumor going around school that Winnie’s planning to apply to every top-ten school,” Kelly said. “I know for a fact a lot of people were really upset about it. Even though the threat talked about Stanford, really lots of parents at EBA might’ve had motive. I thought you’d want to know.”

  “That’s quite a rumor,” Maren said, not sure whether to believe Kelly. Maren wasn’t born yesterday. Clearly Kelly had incentive to cast aspersions on other parents, given that she and her notoriously high-strung daughter were two obvious suspects. “You wouldn’t happen to know how it got started, would you? Or if there’s someone specific—”

  “No, no.” Kelly shook her head vigorously and opened her palms. “I mean, I really couldn’t say. Your guess is as good as mine.”

  “Well, I’ll be sure to pass that information along to the detective on the case. I assume he’ll be contacting you for an interview soon.”

  “Yes, of course,” Kelly said, clumsily backing out of the kitchen.

  Maren cocked her eyebrow. Evidently, Kelly did not relish talk of police interviews and such.

  “Well, listen, I need to run, but please let me know if there’s anything else I can do to help. I mean it. Anything.”

  Maren was tempted to take her up on the disingenuous offer, just to see Kelly’s crazytown reaction if Maren were to ask her for something that would really be helpful, like doing some of her own damn work for the SST. But alas, Maren called on her vast, ever-replenishing aquifer of willpower. “Thanks, Kelly. I appreciate the offer. I’ll let you know if I think of anything.” She ushered Kelly toward the entryway.