by Helen Eve
She looks down at her floaty butterfly dress. ‘Edward gave it to me. Not that it’s any of your business.’
It’s Siena’s dress. It’s the dress she’s wearing in the photograph that Jack cared about enough to keep beside his bed as the first and last thing he saw of the world every day.
‘Take it off,’ I say. ‘Now.’
She looks disbelieving. ‘Are you serious?’
‘Deadly,’ I say. ‘Get it off.’
‘It’s not yours!’ she shouts. ‘Edward gave it to me!’
I can’t think of anything but the dress; of how Siena must have looked in it; that she might care that I didn’t save it for her; that it might still have smelled of her body lotion, or her hairspray, or just her, until Katrina put it on and eradicated those things forever.
And so I pick up her pint of claret and throw it right over her, shaking uncontrollably as red liquid spatters and spreads across the gossamer.
She’s unnaturally calm. ‘You stop Edward sleeping with other girls because you don’t want to lose your hold on him. You pushed him and Caitlin together because of that purity ring, didn’t you? And it’s backfired. You think you’re so untouchable, but without Edward you’re nothing in this election. And maybe Caitlin should win, because any other option – anyone – would be preferable to you.’
She unzips the dress so roughly that it rips as it falls to the floor. She leaves the room in her underwear, but somehow her dignity is intact.
* * *
Mary-Ann finds me later on the swings. I ball up the remains of Siena’s dress and hold it close to my chest where she can’t see it. Avoiding her eyes, I watch Lila carry an armful of rocks towards the pond.
‘I’ve been looking for you everywhere,’ she says. ‘Edward told me about the new election plan. But it’s not a problem, is it? I mean, you’d rather run with Luke instead?’
‘Of course,’ I say. ‘It’s all worked out perfectly.’
It’s obvious that I’m crying, but I still turn away before continuing. ‘We should never have left school today. No good ever comes of it.’
She sits on the swing beside me, her spidery legs outstretched. ‘We have to leave eventually, Stella. Isn’t there anywhere else you’d rather be?’
We lean back and swing in synchronicity, our hair sweeping the ground. I’m looking for my favourite star, but the sky is cloudy and I can’t make it out. Without its marker I’m rootless and lost.
‘You can go to university, or art school,’ Mary-Ann considers. ‘You and Luke can go travelling – maybe not backpacking, but you know he’d go anywhere you wanted. And one day you’ll get married and have children. We’ve a lot to look forward to when this is over, Stella.’
The election occupies me so fully that I’ve never looked beyond it; never looked beyond Temperley High or to a life that Siena didn’t experience. It occurs to me that I don’t know how to grow older than her, or how to want for things that she was never able to consider. I try to imagine a future in which I walk the Inca Trail, and graduate from university; in which I walk up the aisle towards someone as yet faceless, and produce little fair-haired babies; and it’s as foreign a concept as if it’s happening to a stranger. It’s purposeless and empty, a life I must learn to endure as Siena’s memory grows fainter and less relevant until it’s as if she was never here.
Mary-Ann is clutching something toxic-looking, and I drink it as fast as I can until the pain in my chest starts to dull.
‘Where’s Katrina?’ I ask as it occurs to me how strange it is that she hasn’t tried to find me. No matter who’s to blame for our fights, she’s always the one to chase.
Mary-Ann pauses. ‘Caitlin’s cleaning her up. They’re with Luke.’
Anger towards Katrina, tiring and unfair, surges through me. ‘Mary-Ann, I’d like you to be my campaign manager,’ I hear myself say.
Her eyes bulge. ‘Are you high?’
‘No,’ I say. ‘How could I be? You know we all get low on medication during bank holidays.’
She shakes her head. ‘We can’t do that to her.’
‘It’s not working out,’ I say stubbornly. ‘We’re not a good team anymore, and it’s time for a fresh start.’
‘She’ll be devastated,’ she says. ‘You’ve been planning this for years.’
‘Edward and I had been planning for years too,’ I say. ‘Why did he promise to run with me if he was going to do this?’
‘He promised because you asked him to,’ she sighs. ‘Everyone does what you ask them to, Stella. He did the best he could.’
I dismiss this. ‘Mary-Ann, I have to win.’
‘Why do you have to win?’ she says. ‘Don’t you mean, you want to win?’
‘I have to,’ I insist.
She lapses into silence, and when she speaks again her voice is timid. ‘Stella, you do want to run with me, don’t you? I mean … you’re not getting back at Katrina for something?’
‘Of course not,’ I say feebly. ‘I want to run with you.’
She nods miserably after another long silence. ‘I’ll do it.’
I can’t muster a smile, let alone a thank you, but she doesn’t seem to notice. I wonder why my influence over her, even when she’s aware of it, always blinds her to the truth. For the second time tonight, my power strikes me as loathsome. And yet who would I be without it?
Chapter Twenty-nine
Caitlin
‘Have you heard?’
It was the first full day of the summer semester and so far no one had talked about anything but the election. If it had been a hot topic before, that was nothing compared to the buzz it was generating now. It made sense that the Stars were all intent on getting the scoops first.
This time it was Lila who threw herself on the couch between me and Penny and tried to catch her breath. Her purple wedges were not designed for physical activity, and, having failed to unknot the ribbons tying them around her legs, Penny cut them with her nail scissors. They fell on the floor as Lila winced before continuing.
‘The list of candidates is on the noticeboard. Guess who Stella’s campaign manager is?’
‘Katrina, of course!’ Penny looked at Lila as if she were mad.
Lila wiggled her liberated toes. ‘No. Mary-Ann.’
Penny’s jaw dropped. Even I was a little shocked.
‘It can’t be!’ gasped Penny. ‘What would this mean? Surely Stella knows that being campaign manager is about so much more than admin. No one can orchestrate an internet strategy like Katrina. And what about the merchandise? Katrina was getting bunting, T-shirts, shot glasses…’
Lila nodded. ‘Stella’s got this one really wrong.’
‘She doesn’t even have Twitter,’ Penny said. ‘Or Facebook, or anything else. She’s socially barren without Katrina.’
I tried to process this. Although I’d only recently gotten into social networking, I already couldn’t imagine life without it. It was the only sure-fire way of keeping up-to-date with essential school business. ‘She doesn’t have Twitter?’
‘Katrina tweets for her,’ Lila said. ‘Stella prefers her opinions not to be traceable. But Mary-Ann’s not exactly drowning in fans. She’s got the fewest followers of us all, including you, and you’re only just getting started.’
I was pleased that Lila had noticed the progress I was making. The successful Easter egg hunt had gained me most of the Shells and Removes, and logging onto my account recently was like receiving fan mail.
‘How could she do this without consultation?’ Penny added. ‘Stella’s team was a joint decision, decided by committee, because it seriously affects us all.’
‘She didn’t ask us because she knew we’d never agree,’ said Lila grimly. ‘Mary-Ann would have been last in line for this position. And that’s not the only bad news.’
Penny cracked her bubblegum. ‘What else?’
‘Stella and Edward aren’t running together. She’s running with Luke, and Edward’s got an opening for running
partner. Can you believe it?’
‘What’s going to happen now?’ Penny asked tremulously. The words Stella might not win would have been tantamount to blasphemy, but it was obvious what she was thinking.
Lila was trying to be strong for her. ‘Stella and Luke are still popular without Edward, but his chances completely depend on his choice of partner. No one outside the Stars can compete with Stella, and it’s not as if any of us is going to run.’
I sat back, thinking aloud. ‘The competition is wide open now the vote is split between Stella and Edward. Any number of candidates might decide to stand.’
‘Do you think Katrina knows?’ asked Penny.
* * *
‘Come in,’ said Katrina cheerfully as I knocked on the door.
I went in tentatively with a cup of tea, having learnt how important it was in England in times of distress (remarkable, as it tasted like pond water).
‘What’s that for?’ She eyed it dubiously. ‘I wanted a strawberry frappuccino with non-fat cream, like always.’
‘I’ve got some bad news,’ I said carefully. ‘You should probably sit down.’
She continued with her exercise DVD. ‘Stretch and shake … stretch and shake…’ she was muttering as she attempted some kind of flamenco move.
‘This might be a big shock,’ I continued.
‘I already know about Stella,’ she said, her eyes on the television. ‘She made her plans pretty obvious at Edward’s party.’
‘You know?’ I asked in surprise. ‘Why aren’t you more upset?’
She laid down her pom-poms. ‘I’m upset about the way she’s behaved,’ she said frankly. ‘But I don’t want to be on her team. She can run with Mary-Ann, or anyone she likes. I don’t care what she does.’
Katrina had never told me exactly what had gone down at Edward’s party, but I was sure it was Stella’s fault that she’d ended up crying and covered in red wine. Just as I was sure it was her fault that Luke had been left jettisoned and pale and silent. It was probably even her fault that Quentin’s lilo had sunk under the weight of an unexplained rock fall and he’d spent the rest of his vacation in hospital with Weil’s disease.
I sat on her bed and looked at the huge pile of election paraphernalia heaped in the garbage. I could see patterns for Elevation dresses, Vote Stella buttons and rosettes, streamers and even fireworks.
She smiled ruefully as she pulled down the Vote Stella poster she slept under. ‘What can I do about it anyway?’ she asked as she ripped it and tossed the pieces. ‘Run for Head Girl myself? Because with my disciplinary record, I don’t think I’d be allowed.’
It was impossible to contest this, because she always seemed to be in trouble for something.
‘You know, I take responsibility for a lot of things,’ she said as if she knew what I was thinking.
‘I’m sure you do,’ I said. ‘But my idea might change that.’
I expected her to reject Edward’s proposition outright, but she listened without speaking.
‘Do you really want to put yourself through the campaign?’ she asked finally, looking scared but excited.
‘Maybe.’ I frowned. ‘I don’t see what we have to lose. I think we have a great chance with Edward on our side. And what’s the worst that can happen?’
* * *
I left Katrina to join Penny and Lila at the lunch table. Penny, who had been engrossed in her laptop, pushed it towards me as I sat down.
‘Have you seen the election feed?’ she said.
The online election pages had only been up for a few hours, but the students were doing a good job of sharing gossip about candidates. There was already a YouTube channel, a Facebook page and a Twitter account, not to mention numerous fashion forums, fan sites and about twenty pages devoted to Stella’s hair.
Lila was looking at me. ‘Everyone’s very interested in you all of a sudden. Why are you trending everywhere?’
I scrolled down to find a series of photographs comparing my recent fashion choices favourably with Stella’s. Edward obviously had good contacts.
‘Wow,’ I murmured. ‘How did they get these? I’ve never seen anyone taking pictures.’
I looked around, my unease at being secretly photographed mixed with a thrill at sharing the page with Stella as if we were actually comparable.
Lila looked suspicious. ‘Do they know something we don’t?’
I shook my head guiltily, wishing I knew how to tell them that Katrina and I were no longer on their team.
‘Don’t blame Caitlin,’ said Penny miserably. ‘It’s supply and demand. Now she does so much sport it’s inevitable that people want to see her in Lycra.’
After my quad run I’d been asked to join the cross-country team. Then Katrina had volunteered me for the netball spot Stella had forfeited after missing an important match. I’d turned out to be pretty good at both, so when Stella gave up swimming and hockey I started those too. This semester was tennis, and, to my amazement, I was actually looking forward to Sports Day.
Penny and Lila left as the bell rang, but then Ruby came and sat next to me, glancing furtively around the room. It was the first time I’d seen her this semester, and, although she appeared nervous, she was also happier than I’d seen her in months.
‘Edward told me you’re thinking about running for Head Girl,’ she whispered. ‘And guess what? I am too!’
‘Edward told you to compete?’ I asked.
‘Not exactly, but he told me to have more confidence in myself, and I thought, why not? The row last term really made me think – after all those years, one mistake is all it took to be kicked out. You shouldn’t be scared of your friends, Caitlin.’
In various ways Stella had sealed her own fate.
* * *
I suspected Edward’s talk with Ruby had been designed to influence my decision, and it was the last nudge I needed. Katrina and I joined him at the tennis courts where he was finishing up a game with Tom.
‘You know why we’re here,’ Katrina said. ‘I think Caitlin should stand for Head Girl, and I want to be her manager.’
Edward suppressed laughter. ‘That sounds dangerous. I take it you have your headstones picked out?’
Katrina held his gaze. ‘It’s not fair that Stella thinks she has a right to win. The school should be a democracy, not a dictatorship!’
She sounded self-conscious, as if she’d learned this phrase in General Studies and wasn’t sure how to use it.
I giggled. ‘It’s not a dictatorship; it’s a monarchy. Lila even said that the position is Stella’s birth right. We should campaign for a republic, where people’s lives aren’t pre-determined and everyone is equal.’
Edward nodded. ‘Why do you think I wanted you on board, Caitlin? The timing is perfect.’
‘So you think we can win?’ Katrina said.
He pursed his lips. ‘Everyone loves an underdog, don’t they?’
Chapter Thirty
Stella
We’re doing group work in French, so Mary-Ann and I take ourselves off down the corridor to discuss the escalating levels of violence in Corsica. She stares blankly at the worksheet while I search for a pen, tipping my bag sideways to see to the bottom.
‘What’s wrong?’ she asks.
‘Nothing,’ I say automatically.
She sighs in frustration and I force myself to elaborate. ‘My belongings keep going missing. I thought I was being paranoid, but they are.’
She frowns. ‘Do you think someone’s stealing from you?’
We look around uneasily. Despite our hiding place under a table, I can see at least three camera phones pointing in our direction. Now the campaign has really begun, nowhere feels safe from eavesdroppers and even the most banal information is newsworthy.
‘I don’t know what to think,’ I say.
‘Is it Ruby?’ she whispers.
I shake my head. ‘Ruby only steals shoes and gold of eighteen carat or more.’
‘And prescription med
ication,’ she reminds me. ‘And sometimes cutlery.’
I mentally list my losses. Clothes. Notebooks. Paintbrushes. Make-up. Perfume. ‘Maybe she’s branching out.’
‘I’m sure you can get it all back when we clear our rooms at the end of term,’ she says reassuringly as I finally locate a fluffy purple pencil that I can only assume belongs to Syrena. ‘Lila’s going to hire a cart.’
We look at our books again.
‘Don’t destroy your relationship with Luke,’ she says suddenly.
I scan Tricolore for the statement before realizing she’s deviated from the exercise. ‘Luke and I are fine,’ I say evenly.
‘You’ve been avoiding him since Edward’s party,’ she points out. ‘What on earth happened between you that night?’
‘You know there’s a rule that whatever happens at the party stays there,’ I say. ‘If only for Quentin’s sake. And I’ve been very busy ever since. Luke understands my schedule.’
She looks uncomfortable. ‘I’m not so sure. Luke might seem secure, but he probably doesn’t feel that way inside. I know you’re focused on the election, but you need to sort out how you feel, or both of you are going to get hurt.’
‘You’re hiding something,’ I realize suddenly. ‘What do you know?’
She scrolls through her phone and shows me the latest election feed. ‘You really should keep an eye on this. It’s your best way to gauge who people are supporting.’
‘People are supporting me,’ I say. ‘I mean, they’re supporting us.’
Mary-Ann sighs. ‘Just look at it.’
I look reluctantly at a photograph of Edward’s party. Of Caitlin at Edward’s party, specifically, sitting very close to Luke in the gazebo. Her arm is around him and she’s stroking his hair in a way that I’d never allow any girl to do.
I grip my pencil so hard that it snaps.
* * *
I find Luke doing homework in an empty classroom. At least, I assume he’s doing homework until I see Caitlin with her hand on his arm.
‘Can I speak to Luke alone, please, Caitlin?’ I say.
She gets up, but she actually has the nerve to squeeze Luke’s hand as she leaves.
‘Where have you been?’ he says wearily. ‘I’ve been looking for you all day. All week, actually.’
