After digging through my closet for an hour and trying to assemble something, I had to give up. Anything I’d do would look stupid and incredibly homemade. I didn’t even have a nice dress to wear.
And then Dana reminded me of her offer. I took her up on it, and wore her extra costume. I had no choice. It was that or go as Daisy Duke.
“Dammit,” I muttered, looking everywhere for the white sandals I’d set out. Finally I found them, underneath a pillow I had tossed aside in my search for them.
Dana was still in the room, silently watching me scurry. “You look good.”
I swiped aside my sandy-not-platinum-blond hair from my eyes and threw on my coat for the walk to the dining hall.
I was confident. I felt good about myself for the first time in a while. I looked pretty good, if I did say so myself, and hoped Max would think so. I cringed a little as I wondered if he’d gotten another date. I cringed again at the fact that Johnny, my actual date, was not the one that I thought of first.
And what about Dana? Maybe she wasn’t so bad after all. She had probably just lashed out because of her grief and was now trying to make up for it. I could forgive the awful things she’d said if she was trying to make up for them.
Johnny was waiting for me outside the dorm door.
“You look great,” he said.
“You haven’t even seen my costume yet.” I smiled. “But thanks, you look good, too.” He was wearing a normal tuxedo. I’d heard that that was what most of the guys did. We walked down the stairs. “I’m sorry I’m late. It’s a fatal flaw of mine.”
“No problem, that’s a flaw in most girls.” He smiled and gave me a wink.
The dining hall looked odd now that it had been cleared of its tables, chairs, food and surly employees. It was now darker than I’d ever seen it, with blue lights darting around the ceiling and walls while bass-heavy music filled the air and shook the marble floors. Everyone in costumes, in a place that should be familiar but was not, made it seem surreal. In the dim light it wasn’t obvious who anyone really was. There were people in masks left and right, people with blood pouring from drawn-on wounds, zombies, ghosts, princesses, aliens and then me. I turned and jumped when I saw that Johnny had put on a Jason mask.
“God, that’s awful,” I said, laying a hand over my chest.
I couldn’t see his face, but he had paused and was looking at me. “Are you taking off your coat?”
“Not yet, I’m freezing.”
It wasn’t strictly true. The problem was that I suddenly had no desire to unveil my costume. The dress was revealing and I had no confidence in it. It had not really struck me that I’d have to wear the costume in front of everyone. They’d think I was being a show-off—or trying to be. Someone else would probably even be wearing the same dress, and I’d pale in comparison. It felt more and more like the worst idea. Everyone already looked at me like I was an idiot. What would they do when they saw my dark blond hair barely holding a curl and a dress that gaped a little where bigger boobs should be?
“You’re going to get hot in here.”
“Oh, I’ll be fine.”
Johnny shrugged and led me through the crowd. My heart skipped as I laid eyes on Max. He was wearing a suit that looked prohibitionist-era, and it suited him perfectly. I smiled and waved at him, noticing that he was with Cam and Blake.
“Why are you wearing your coat? It’s sweltering!” Blake said, after giving me a hug.
“Is it? I’m just so cold.”
She nodded and then started talking to Johnny. Max looked at me.
I scrambled for something to say. “No date?”
He shook his head. “Nah. Didn’t ask anyone. Except you, that is.”
My stomach twisted. “Oh, I see. I like your costume.”
“I don’t know if I like yours.”
“Why?”
He gave me a look. “I haven’t seen it yet.”
“Oh!” I laughed. Maybe I didn’t need to be so nervous.
I took off my coat and revealed my dress. His smile vanished, and his jaw tightened.
Blake gasped, hand over her mouth, and she looked at Max.
“What?” I asked, my arms closed tightly over my chest. “I look stupid?”
I should have known it was worse than that.
Suddenly everyone was looking at me. Max looked like stone, and Johnny looked like the floor had fallen out from under him.
I looked to Blake.
“What is the matter?”
Max walked over to me and put his hand on my wrist tightly. “What is wrong with you? Why would you do that?” He let go. “Take it off. That’s not your fucking dress.”
He turned and walked out. Anyone who had been watching us was looking at me in shock or following him with their eyes.
Blake came close to me, so everyone else that was listening wouldn’t hear her. “That’s what…that’s what she wore last year.”
Blake must have seen the comprehension dawn on my face. She shook her head apologetically. “It’s just that…for a minute it looked like…it looked like she was… It would be like her to show up like that.”
I was dizzy. I had no words. I wanted to scream louder than I ever had, and without my permission, tears had begun to fall down my cheeks. All I could do was breathlessly look from Blake, who pitied me, to Johnny, who just looked concerned, and then to Madison and Julia who had just come up. Madison looked hesitant and worried. Julia looked shocked.
I ran out of the dining hall, ignoring Blake calling my name.
I burst in, and panted at Dana.
“Why would you do that to me?”
“Do what?” Dana spoke quietly, as if she hadn’t just fed me to the wolves. “Oh, by the way,” she reached under her bed, “this came for you last week.”
She threw a white package onto my bed. It was from Costume Warehouse.
I wanted to cry. My throat was constricted and my knees weak. Where would people go with this? Would they start to think I was some kind of crazy person, desperate to be like her? Did they already think that?
“What did I do to you?” My eyes were burning. “Or to anyone else? I didn’t know she was missing when I accepted this spot at school! It’s not like I intentionally tried to replace her!”
She shrugged and set down her book. “I think it’s good everyone finally saw you for what you are.”
“Saw me for— And what is that, Dana? What is it that I really am?”
“You want to be her. You’re trying to be her. Now everyone knows that about you.”
“I don’t want to be her!” My voice was strong, but I felt it might give out at any second.
“Why wouldn’t you?” She looked challengingly at me.
I breathed deeply, never taking my gaze from her empty black eyes. “I didn’t know her. I don’t want to be her. I don’t want what she had.”
“What, to be beloved by everyone? To have Max deeply in love with you? To have Johnny wanting you?” She cocked her head.
I did like Max. I had gone to the ball with Johnny. I shook my head. I didn’t want to think that she might be right. Was I just going after what had made Becca happy?
“No, I don’t!” I said, trying to sound stronger than I was. “I don’t want that. What I want is to be back home!”
“Then leave. Who would care? Who would even notice if you did leave?”
I shook my head. “Shut up. Please, just shut up.”
“I will if you stop trying to steal the identity of a girl you couldn’t be an eighth of if you sold your very soul to the devil.”
“I’m not trying to!” My face was hot, and all my words came out in sputters.
She sighed deeply and shook her head. “That’s fine. You’ll know when she comes back.”
I threw the door back open, not knowing where I was going to run to. I heard Dana’s taunting voice as I closed the door: “And she’ll be back soon....”
When the library was locked, for what ungodly r
eason I could not imagine, I ran to the only place I could think of. The boathouse.
I flew from Manderley into the raw, gusting air. The surrounding trees had dropped their dead leaves, which now crunched under my feet and swirled around in the wind like in a cartoon. One big gust of wind set me backward in my trek by a few inches and made me shut my eyes as much as I could and still see.
The waves were like a million dead, gnarly hands throwing themselves onto the sand and trying to bring whatever they could back with them into the darkness. The sand was prickling me in the legs, as if warning me that the waves were after me. I pushed and walked through the boathouse door. The threatening sounds from outside died a little. I gave one big shake and clutched my arms with my hands to keep warm.
I felt around for the light switch before realizing it was just a beaded cord that hung from an exposed lightbulb. I pulled it, and tried to convince myself that anything I heard was the ocean and not waves of cockroaches and mice shuffling across the two inches of dust on the floor. The boathouse felt a lot more sinister when I was there by myself. I could see now that the walls were covered in dust and spiderwebs, and that the windows were so covered in grime that you wouldn’t be able to see out of them even if it was light outside.
My sandals clunked with every step on the hollow-sounding wood beneath them as I made my way to the couch. I’d just wait until Dana was probably asleep and then go back up. She was usually in bed by eleven, so I’d just wait until…dammit. Once again, I had no idea what time it was. I needed a watch.
I sat on the couch and got a throat full of dust. I waved it away from my face. There was a thick blanket—or maybe it was one of those rugs that are easily mistaken for blankets—folded on the armrest. I grabbed it and wrapped it around myself. It was almost as cold as I was. I lay down, curled up as tightly as I could, and tried not to think.
But I couldn’t help it. All I could think of was Manderley. Why did I leave home? I should have just been honest and told my parents I didn’t want to leave. My friends were probably all at Lucy’s house, where her parents had funded every snack imaginable, and where losing at Apples to Apples was anyone’s biggest concern. Rather than being here, where everyone was straight out of a Lifetime milk carton movie.
That wasn’t very nice. I didn’t mean that.
But even without its zombie students, the ones milling in the dining hall right now, Manderley itself was cold and austere. It was nothing like the proud and exciting hallowed building I’d imagined at that early age.
I’d been here for two months now, and it’s not like I knew no one, but it did seem I’d only gained them as friends by luck. I was like the unwanted new stepsister who was suddenly supposed to be accepted as part of the family. Like everyone had been perfectly content before I came along, and now I was making Manderley a little bit too cramped.
Nobody wanted to know me. And I was not the type to get down on myself like that. There was a distinct message from everyone here to me: we don’t like you.
I could go this year without friends. Fine. I could quiet the part of my brain that told me how different it would be if I were still back home. But I was constantly being reminded that it wasn’t good that I was here, and that I might as well leave. And Becca was here, too, everywhere, even though she was nowhere. I heard people talk about her all the time. Everyone wondered what had happened. Everyone had a theory. Everyone had questions. Everyone had to talk about it all the time.
I’d made the right choice when I decided to go to FSU. I didn’t have what it took to be a risk taker. I was a small-town girl, who couldn’t handle the real world.
I lay there, getting colder every second, and tried to do that thing my mom taught me about breathing in and counting slowly to three and then breathing out and slowly counting to three. It should steady my breathing and relax me, apparently. Instead, it just meant that I was breathing slower than my thoughts were coming.
I didn’t want to be ungrateful. I didn’t want to not be able to make the best of it here. I hated hating my situation, but I couldn’t help it. I felt like I was trying to wear someone else’s clothes, and they didn’t fit. I gave an audible scoff as I realized I was in Becca’s clothes right now. It was darkly funny, and then it was spooky.
Maybe this was all my fault. I’d made the mistake of liking Max—something that was starting to feel embarrassing and blasphemous—and now I’d shown up at the only school-wide occasion so far and worn Becca’s dress. I wanted to undo it. But I couldn’t.
In…one, two, three.
Out…one, two, three.
In…
“Get out of my dress.”
I blinked. I looked around the room, and saw her. Becca Normandy, smoking a cigarette and looking as cool as we’ve always been told cigarettes don’t make you, and leaning on her crossed legs.
I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t talk. She was…she was here. She was…here. My throat was tight from the shock. That feeling of chills running down my back wouldn’t go away. I couldn’t ask what she was doing here—all I could do was see her. Her blond hair, so much lighter and softer than mine, had light reflecting off it that made her look practically ethereal. I wouldn’t have thought that was possible in this musty room.
She was staring at me, and I felt like she could see everything about me. Everything I’d ever been or thought.
I opened my mouth, and she rolled her eyes.
“I don’t even want to hear it. You’re a cheap imitation of me. You’re dirty blonde. You’re muscle-skinny, not a waif. You own moccasins.” She stood, and stamped out her cigarette. “That dress looks terrible on you. You know that, right?”
She looked at me amusedly through narrowed eyes, and turned her head. I still couldn’t speak.
“That is why everyone was asking what you were wearing. It’s not that they didn’t know you were supposed to be Marilyn Monroe, or even that they were so shocked that you would try to copy me. It’s because you were filling it out so badly you made it look like a sleeveless muumuu.” She exhaled noisily. “I have only one question for you.”
Becca crouched at the side of the couch. She was painfully beautiful, the ideal kind of pretty that doesn’t fear a magnified mirror. She didn’t seem to have any flaws at all. Not an eyelash was out of place. Her teeth were toothpaste-ad white. Under her eyes there were no circles. She wafted the scent of alcohol and menthol cigarettes in my direction, but it mingled with her perfume and made her whole image tie together in some kind of strange, unusual beauty. It was like she waited for me to notice these things before moving on.
“I want to ask you…what made you think you could have him?” She smiled a little, and briefly allowed a line to come between her eyebrows. “Haven’t you heard everyone? Max is in love with me. He’s in love with me. I’m that one he’ll never forget. I’m the one he let get away. I am the girl that boys never, ever get over. If I don’t come back or want him back and he marries someone else, even, his future wife will have to come to terms with the fact that he’s never going to get over me. Sure he might continue living, but I—” she bit her lip “—I am what made him live. I am his light. I am his excitement. I was the bells, the light, the darkness and the melody in his life. You? You could only ever hope to be—” her nose wrinkled as she tried to think of what I could hope to be “—a butter knife. You might be practical and useful, but you’re just a blank, dull, staring thing that’s there to serve a purpose. And any reflection of me that might be in you is distorted and ugly. You are nothing more.”
New Girl Page 14
