Debutante Hill

by Lois Duncan

  But this year it won’t be either way, Lynn thought as the street turned and the building came into view. It’s going to seem so lonely!

  Nevertheless, there were plenty of greetings as the two girls approached the building. Rivertown High was a public school, but all the young people from the Hill went there. Occasionally, some family would decide to send their children to a private school, but that was not the usual procedure, for the high school was a good one. Of course, other people went there, too, but the Hill crowd was a crowd of its own, set a little apart from the rest of the students.

  It was not a conscious snobbery, and there were members of the Crowd who did not live on the Hill. Most of them had become part of the Crowd because of Paul. Paul had been president of the senior class and captain of the football team, and he had been friends with almost everyone in school. Paul was the sort of boy whom everybody liked, probably because he himself liked everyone.

  Lynn had known about him for years before she met him. He was only a year ahead of her, but somehow, during the first years of high school, they had just seemed to miss each other.

  “As though,” Lynn said later, “every time I came in a door, you walked out one. We were in all the same places, but not at the same time. Just think, we might never have had a chance to know each other at all if it wasn’t for Ernie!”

  It was through Ernie that she had really come to know Paul.

  It was Ernie’s junior year, and he was trying out for the football team. Paul was already a member of the team and rumor had it he was the choice for next year’s captain. But then Paul was the football type, broad-shouldered and stocky, and Ernie was slender in the same way Lynn was.

  Why he wanted to make the team, his parents could not see.

  “Really, dear,” Mrs. Chambers had said gently, “it’s not necessary to go out for something like that, just because a lot of the other boys do. We’re not all meant for the same things.”

  “Sure,” his father had agreed. “You’re going to be a doctor. That’s something most of those muscle-bound fellows could never dream of doing. You don’t have to prove yourself by playing football, Son; there are plenty of other ways.”

  But Ernie had been stubborn. Lynn thought she knew why. It had something to do with getting a letter sweater to present to Nancy. It was just when his steady dates with Nancy were beginning, and he wanted to give her a sweater, as all the boys did when they went with a girl.

  “Which is silly,” Lynn had declared. “Nancy isn’t the kind of girl to care about something like that. She cares about you, not about some old letter.”

  “Mind your own business, Sis,” Ernie had said, not unkindly. “This is something I’ve made up my mind to do, and I’m going to do it.”

  And so he practiced. He practiced and practiced—and came home grimy and lame and bruised. Then the day of the tryouts came, and he did not make it He did not say much when he came home that day. He just said, “I didn’t make it,” and went upstairs and shut himself in his room.

  Nancy phoned later, and he would not come to the phone to talk to her, which was unheard of for Ernie. He did not even come out for dinner.

  Then, that evening, Paul arrived.

  Dodie saw him first. Dodie was a year younger than Lynn and always saw everything.

  “It’s the Kingsley boy,” she exclaimed, glancing out the window, “the Big Wheel of the school! My goodness, don’t tell me he’s come a’courting!”

  “He certainly hasn’t if it’s me you’re considering,” Lynn said in equal surprise. “I’ve never even talked to him.”

  She went to the door and let Paul in, liking him right away; liking the easy way he walked and the warm blue eyes and the way one eyebrow went up a little higher than the other when he talked.

  He said, “I came by to see Ernie.”

  “Ernie—” Lynn hesitated, wondering what to say. “Ernie’s upstairs. He—he’s not feeling awfully well. He tried out for the football team today and he—”

  “I know,” Paul broke in. “I was there. That’s what I wanted to talk to him about.” He glanced at the stairs. “Do you think it would be all right if I just went on up?”

  “Why, yes,” Lynn said. “I think that would be fine. It’s the first door on the left.”

  She and Dodie stood in the hallway, watching him mount the stairs and turn down the upstairs hall. They heard him give a sharp rap on a door.

  “Why did you let him go up?” Dodie whispered accusingly. “Ernie’s going to be furious! You know he doesn’t want to see anybody, even Nancy.”

  “I know,” Lynn said. “But I have a feeling Paul’s different. I think he’ll want to see Paul.”

  The boys were upstairs for a long time, and when they finally came down together, Ernie had a smile on his face.

  “Paul saw me at the tryouts,” he said. “He thinks I’ve got the stuff for the team; I just haven’t had practice enough. He’s going to work out with me some this year, and next year I’m going to make it.”

  “Fine!” Lynn replied, glancing gratefully at Paul. “I’m sure you will, too.”

  Ernie said, “We’re going to pick up Nancy and go to a drive-in for a hamburger. Want to come along, Sis?”

  “Which sis?” Dodie asked.

  “Not you, small fry,” Ernie told her. “Big sis.”

  Lynn said, “Well, I—”

  She glanced at Paul. He was smiling at her.

  “I wish you would.”

  “Well, all right. I’d love to.”

  And that is the way it had begun, quickly, easily, simply—because Paul was the kind of boy who would go out of his way to help somebody who was having a tough time, and because Lynn happened to be there, and maybe because the hamburgers had been a little overdone and they had laughed together about them, and there had been stars, and the River Road, when they drove back, had been drenched in moonlight. Not one thing alone, but all of them, had added up to the fact that it was a special night, and when it was over Paul had asked, “What about next Friday? Want to go to a movie or something?” and Lynn had answered, “Yes.” The next year, Ernie had made the football team. And by that winter, Lynn and Paul were going steady.

  Because Paul was as he was, easy and cordial and quick to like everyone, he picked up friends everywhere he went, and, through their friendships with Paul, several “outsiders” were drawn into the Crowd. But generally speaking, the little group that sat on the left side of the front steps and called out greetings to Lynn and Nancy as they came up were from the Hill.

  “Hi there, you two!” somebody shouted “We were wondering where on earth you were. We’ve already been through ‘who’s been where’this summer and have a brand-new topic.”

  “Well, goodness,” Lynn exclaimed, joining the laughing group, “we are behind on things! Catch us up.”

  “Guess what!” Holly Taylor cried, catching Lynn’s hand and drawing her down onto the steps. What is the most exciting thing you can imagine happening in Rivertown? To us, I mean!”

  “The most exciting thing?” Nancy joined the discussion. “I can’t imagine. Maybe Hollywood talent scouts have discovered the beauties at Rivertown High and are planning to make a movie hen, or the school has decided to give flying lessons during gym class, or—”

  “Oh, more exciting than that!” Joan Wilson exclaimed. “I’d keep on making you guess, but the bell will ring soon and then we won’t have time left to hash it all over. We’re going to make our debuts!”

  “Our debuts!” Lynn’s eyes opened in amazement. “What on earth—”

  “We knew you’d be surprised!” Everyone began to talk at once. “We just learned it today. Mrs. Peterson is behind it of course, and it’s going to be the most fabulous thing . . . you can’t imagine . . . parties every weekend, and a whole week of them during Christmas vacation ... a huge Presentation Ball in the spring...”

  “Slowly!” Nancy fairly shouted above the excitement “Please, please, one at a time! Lynn and I
want to digest this thing. Suppose just one person tells it.”

  “Well, I will,” Holly Taylor said quickly, “because I heard about it first Mrs. Peterson was talking to Mother on the phone, and she’s got the whole thing organized already. It’s the first time there have ever been debutantes in Rivertown! Twenty girls have been selected, invitations were mailed last night, and they are going to start things off by being the town’s very first debs. All their friends and families will have parties for them during the year, and at Christmas there will be a whole week of big dances, just for them and their escorts. And in the spring, there will be a great ball, with everyone chipping in toward a big name orchestra. Everyone will be presented—” She ran out of breath. “It will be just fabulous,” she ended.

  “Dances all Christmas vacation!” Nancy echoed happily. “Why, then Ernie will be home for them. How super!” She turned eagerly to Lynn. “Paul will be home, too!”

  “Yes,” Lynn said, her own excitement beginning to rise. “It does sound marvelous. But how do you know which girls were selected? Who is doing the selecting?”

  “Mrs. Peterson, I suppose,” Joan Wilson answered. “Since she’s the one behind it all. But she—well, it sounds awful to say it this way, but there are really just a certain group of girls she can select. What she wants is to start a debutante tradition, a sort of ‘entrance-into-society’ thing, the way they have in Boston and Atlanta and places like that. So she’s got to choose girls from the Hill.”

  Lynn nodded, accepting the fact without question.

  “I suppose so. Twenty. Well, that takes in all of us, I guess and a few others besides.”

  “Of course, Brenda Peterson will be one,” Nancy said.

  They were all silent a moment. Then Holly said, “Well, of course. Mrs. Peterson wouldn’t be doing it at all, if it weren’t for Brenda.”

  Somewhere a bell rang. The sound filled the air, and instantly the steps became alive with people. The girls scrambled to their feet, momentarily deserting the subject of the debuts.

  “Let’s try to get seats beside each other in home room this year,” Nancy said, catching Lynn’s arm.

  The crowd swept them forward, through the open doors into the huge central hallway. The smell of the high school rose up around them—books and chalk and desks and people and, somehow, the faint odor of chewing gum. It was a familiar smell, and to Lynn it brought back three years of memories.

  When I walked down this hall the last time, she thought nostalgically, Paul was walking beside me, carrying my books, and we were both laughing because school was out and we had the whole long summer in front of us. And now summer is already over, and Paul is at college, and I’m back again without him.

  Suddenly, from close behind her, there came a whistle, clear and intimate, and a low voice said, “Well, Miss Chambers! A good-looking gal, but snooty as ever!”

  Lynn whirled to find herself looking into the mocking eyes of a dark-haired boy with a thin face and a sarcastic curl to the comer of his mouth.

  With an angry toss of her head, she turned away again without bothering to speak.

  The boy laughed, a hard little laugh, and swung off down the hall.

  “Who on earth—” Nancy began, trying to see who had spoken.

  “Oh, it’s just that horrid Dirk Masters,” Lynn told her disdainfully. “If he isn’t the crudest, coarsest thing I’ve ever seen! Imagine one of the boys from the Hill saying something like that!”

  “You were right not to answer him,” Nancy said. “I hear he got in some trouble with the police this summer, he and some of the tough bunch of older fellows he goes around with. It’s too bad, because Anne is a nice girl.”

  “Who, his sister?” Lynn looked surprised. “How do you come to know Anne Masters?”

  “She had a locker near mine last year,” Nancy explained. “I didn’t really know her, but we did say ‘hello’ to each other every day, and she seemed like a sweet little thing, not at all like Dirk. She was in my algebra class, too, and made good grades. It’s funny, because I hear Dirk’s always flunking everything.”

  “I guess so,” Lynn said, “if he’s still in high school. He must be eighteen at least.”

  Another bell rang.

  “Come on,” Lynn urged, giving her friend’s arm an impatient little tug, “let’s not be late to home room our very first day.”

  Nancy fell into step beside her.

  “You know,” she confided, “I’m glad to be back. I thought I would be just miserable, coming back to high school without Ernie. We’ve been going together so long, I didn’t see how I’d ever feel right coming back without him. But I do. I mean, I miss him, but still I feel as though the year is going to be fun.”

  “Yes,” Lynn agreed, “and being debutantes will be the saving thing! Isn’t it wonderful they thought it up this year? Just think, if they had waited until one year later, we would have missed it, because we’ll be away at college then.”

  And somehow, even without Paul to share it with her, senior year rose up before Lynn, interesting and different and exciting.

  2

  When Lynn got home from school that afternoon, Dodie was already there, curled up on the porch steps, eating an apple.

  Lynn looked at her with surprise.

  “What are you doing, just sitting there? Don’t tell me Dorothy Eloise Chambers has taken to daydreaming!”

  Dodie made a quick face at the sound of her hated name.

  “Of course not, silly; I’ll leave that to the love-struck members of the family. I’m waiting for Janie. She’s been to Nassau during the summer, and her parents bought her a whole collection of records there. She’s bringing them over this afternoon.” She raised her eyes and gave her sister a penetrating look. “I know what you’re going to ask now. ‘Is there any mail?’”

  Lynn fought down her irritation. Even on days when everything was going perfectly, Dodie had the power to drive her practically insane.

  “Well, is there any?”

  “Yes,” Dodie answered, leaning back on the step and taking another bite of apple. “You got two epistles—one from darling Paul and one that looks like your deb invitation. At least, it’s in a shiny white envelope with the Peterson address on the back.”

  Lynn paused on her way into the house.

  “How did you know about the debutante business? It’s just being started.”

  “Maybe so,” said Dodie, finishing her apple with one huge bite and tossing the core over the porch railing, “but it’s all over school already. They say almost everybody on the Hill is going to ‘come out.’ Some of the boys are even calling it Debutante Hill and saying you should hang lanterns up and down and have the Presentation Ball right in the middle of the Hill Road.”

  She stood up quickly, with a sudden, catlike motion. Dodie was not built like the other two Chambers children. Whereas Ernie and Lynn were both tall and slender, with a graceful quality about them, Dodie was small and supple and animated. On first glance, she did not seem as pretty as Lynn, for there was a sharpness to her that her sister did not have, but when she was with people she liked and wanted to have like her, she had a charm that was all her own. Almost everyone liked Lynn. Fewer people liked Dodie, but the ones who did thought she was absolutely wonderful.

  “Where is the mail?” Lynn asked now.

  “Oh, around some place,” Dodie replied helpfully. She glanced down the street and caught sight of Janie. “Hi there! My, what a pile of records! You must have bought out Nassau.”

  Lynn sighed and turned to go into the house.

  Everyone always said, “How nice it must be for you to have a sister just a year younger; somebody to share everything with!”

  Well, it would be nice, Lynn thought, if only that were the way it was. But it isn’t—not with Dodie. We have hardly anything in common.

  Pausing in the hall, she caught sight of a little pile of mail on the table. Thumbing through it, she quickly located the two letters that were addr
essed to her.

  She opened the one from Paul first. It was the first letter she had ever received from him, and she gazed half-shyly at the hasty, boyish scrawl which would be all that would represent Paul to her until he returned at Christmas time. It was funny to know and care for someone as much as she did for Paul, and yet have his handwriting such an unfamiliar thing. It was like seeing a part of him she had never seen before, meeting and getting to know him in a different way.

  After reading the first paragraph, she sighed in relief, for, strange as the handwriting seemed to her, the letter was Paul all over.

  Hi, honey! Here I am. It’s a great place, but gee, I miss you. The trip up was a tough one. We drove right on through the night like we said we would, but we still didn’t make the time we hoped for because we had a flat tire and then something went wrong with the radiator. We got the tire changed without much trouble, but you should have seen us trying to patch that radiator up with chewing gum, especially since neither Ernie nor I can stand the darned stuff. There we were, chewing away, with these awful expressions on our faces. People who passed by must have thought we were crazy.

  Ern and I have a room together. Not much to it except a couple of beds and a desk. Ernie already has Nancy’s picture stuck on his side of the desk, and my side looks pretty empty. Why not help me fill it by sending me a picture of my girl?

  Lynn smiled and turned over the page. It was nice that Paul wrote such a good letter. It made him seem closer somehow. She read with interest his account of the first days of classes, of the beanies the freshmen had to wear, of the piles of books which were now residing on the shelf beside his bed.

  The letter ended:How’s my ring doing? What I said the day we left—I meant it, you know. I miss you so darned much. Love—Paul.