by S Doyle
He nodded. “Not all that different from London. Without the woods of course. And where are these woods?”
“Pennypacker Park,” Reen told him and pulled out her phone, handing it to him. “There’s usually a keg and a bonfire every Friday night. Add yourself as a contact and I’ll text you the where and when.”
Again, Locke hesitated even as he toyed with the phone in his hand. “You expect me to just give you my number?”
“You asked about entertainment. I assume that means you don’t want to spend your Friday nights at home studying like some people I know.” Reen cocked her head toward Janie. “That means you have to be in the know. Sometimes plans can change suddenly.”
“Or you can spare yourself watching large boys lift themselves into handstands on a keg while guzzling so much beer upside down they get too drunk to walk,” Janie said in response to Reen’s attack on her lack of socialization.
“That’s the best part!” Reen proclaimed. “When you can give them just a little push and they fall right over.”
I laughed because it was funny when they did that. What I wouldn’t give to watch Fitz tip over like an idiot. Of course he was never one of those guys. Always in control, always in charge. Sometimes he drank—never if he drove—but he never got sloppy drunk like the other guys did. Fitz didn’t know how to do sloppy at anything.
“I’ll take your word for it,” Janie said. “And for the record I won’t be studying on Friday. I’m volunteering to knock on doors to register new voters.”
Reen rolled her eyes. “Of course you are. So you’re not really not going to watch Ed’s first game on the varsity team?”
Janie blinked. “Why would I? You know I don’t like football.”
Reen shrugged. “Don’t know. Just figured since you spent so much time with him over the summer you might want to show a little support.”
Janie sighed. “I didn’t spend time with Ed. I helped with his grandmother’s care as senior aid. It’s called a summer job. You’re always causing trouble, Reen.”
“I’m not causing trouble, I’m creating drama. There’s a difference. Trouble is bad, but drama is the spice of life.”
“Join the drama club then and stay out of my business.”
“I’m your best friend,” Reen reminded Janie. “All of your business is my business.”
“This sounds like it’s about to get contentious,” Locke said as a way to excuse himself. However, not before he handed Reen back her phone. “Text me the where and when and maybe I’ll show.”
Reen took the phone back with a smug smile even as she watched him walk away. “Oh, he’ll show. Bet on it.”
A bet I would not take as I was pretty sure she was right.
3
Beth
“Hello! We’re home. Kit and Lyd, if you’re already here, you are both in big trouble. You completely bailed on me!”
From as far away as the foyer, I could hear the giggling in the kitchen and I fumed.
“Hypocritical much?” Mary, my younger sister by a year and by far the quietest among us, asked. “You bailed on me, too.”
I rolled my eyes. “I didn’t bail on you, so much as I forgot about you That’s not the same thing.”
“Whatever,” Mary huffed and moved past me to head upstairs to her room while I made my way to the kitchen.
Our house was an impressive five bedrooms, four baths and four thousand square feet of sprawling mansion. Unlike the many historical Victorian homes that made up the town, ours was new construction. At first frowned upon, but then eventually accepted when Dad chose an architect who understood how to blend the home’s look alongside its Victorian neighbors.
Inside, however, was all completely modern. A formal living room and a dining room in the front of the house. An open plan kitchen and game room took up the width of the back of the house, and was where we all did our day-to-day living. The kitchen was massive, with a table large enough to seat the seven of us. Or six of us now.
Stainless steel appliances, granite countertops, an island that served as both extra counter space and an eating area with stools on one side.
All perfectly glamorous and nothing but the best.
How long can we hold on to all of this?
I shook off the thought. If I started thinking about that, I would end up thinking about why my father left again and there was no point to that.
Kit and Lyd were on stools at the island jabbering to our mother about their first day. Mom, who was chopping green peppers, was clearly encouraging them. I stopped at the arched entry to the kitchen, with a scowl on my face and hands on my hips. There was something definitely wrong with this scene. No one was looking guilty like they should.
“I told you both to meet me at three and we would walk home together!” I announced. I didn’t bother mentioning that, once they failed to show, I started walking home, only to get a text from Mary asking me where I was.
Lyd pouted at me. “Beth, we’re not babies anymore. We’re in high school now. Wick has license and a car and asked us if we wanted a lift home. Gigi was with us, too.”
That surprised me. “I thought you both hated Gigi. You said she was too mousy. Too quiet.”
“That was last year,” Lyd explained, as if I was dense. “Her brother is Fitz Darcy, which means she’s destined to be super popular so it’s important to become besties now before another crowd scoops her up. Besides, she needs us to make her interesting.”
Interesting or more like them.
Kit bobbed her head and lifted her hands. “So it was a choice. Walk home with Boring Beth and Mary or drive home with Wick who has his own car? Sorry, Beth. No brainer.”
I gritted my teeth. “I’ve told you, you have to be careful with the juniors. They are all on the prowl, including Wick. Especially Wick.”
“We’ve known his family for years,” my mother said. “He’s harmless.”
“You don’t know the culture at school like I do, Mom.”
“She’s not wrong,” Lyd agreed. “Everyone knows that the fastest way to be the most popular freshman in school is to have a junior boyfriend. What’s so wrong with that? We’re both in high school.”
“Because they are seventeen and you are fourteen and there’s just…well, there’s just a difference.”
Lyd looked at me like my justification was lame, and maybe it was but what was I supposed to say? That they were virgins and juniors liked to seduce them because they were vulnerable. Not necessarily polite dinner conversation.
Not that I had ever fallen victim to a junior’s seductive charms. In fact, I’d made a hard rule years ago I would not lose my virginity until I was at least a junior. Seventeen seemed an entirely appropriate age to get the deed done.
Not too young to give the impression I was easy. Not too old to give the impression I was a prude.
In fact, I’d even considered Wick as someone who might punch my card. He was handsome, apparently very experienced, and there was a certain level of comfort with him for having known him as long as I had.
It was strange but, at that moment, an image of a scowling Fitz entered my mind. I could just imagine his disapproving expression that I would treat something as seriously as sex with such calculation.
Except everything I did was with calculation.
However, now, with our family troubles, losing my virginity was the last thing I was worried about. Who cared if people thought I was a prude? According to our mother it was way more important they thought we still had money.
Money. Something I wanted to run by my mother.
“So, Mom. Obviously Lyd and Kit can make their way home without me. Mary could just tag along with them. Nobody really needs me to walk them home and if it’s bad weather you would pick us up anyway.”
My mother’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. “What? Go on. Just ask.”
“I was thinking of getting an after-school job.”
“Uh,” she groaned. “Beth, I told you we’re not w
orking. None of us. The second we do, people will know!”
“Not if it’s a job that I could say has a purpose. Like bussing tables at The Club, so I could pick up Spanish as a third language. You know some of the staff there is Latino. It’s a perfect cover.”
At least it had worked on Fitz. Would it work on my mother? She hadn’t known about the summer job. Because we could no longer afford the club dues—that had been the first luxury to go—I wasn’t worried about her showing up and finding me there.
My manager had recently called and said they could use me a few shifts a week if I wanted. It only made sense to pick up the work, but it wouldn’t be as easy to hide my whereabouts during the school week as it had been during the summer. Also, once it started getting dark out I would want to borrow the car.
“Bussing tables?” my mother asked with a tone that suggested I wanted to work at a sewage plan.
Even Kit and Lyd had stopped their muttering and looked at me.
“Ew, you would pick up people’s used napkins?” Kit asked me.
“And their dirty plates?” Lyd followed.
I gritted me teeth.
“Yes, pick them up, lick them clean, then dry them off with the back of my ass. Seriously, we all need to get over ourselves. Work is something we’re going to have to accept. Dad is not—”
“Don’t say it!” My mother shouted. Then she sighed. “You don’t have to say it. We don’t know if your father is coming back.”
I took a deep breath. “I’ll be the only one working. You can say it’s to help me with my conversational Spanish. At the very least, it will help offset some minor expenses.”
My mother grimaced. “But why does it have to be The Club? Everyone there will know you. Will you see picking up other people’s dishes. It’s humiliating.”
I wasn’t so much without pride I didn’t know that. But the worst had already happened.
Fitz had seen me.
He’d seen me, judged me. No doubt felt superior to me in all ways, but it didn’t matter. Because, in the end, I was still going to beat him academically. I would win that battle and that was all I needed to restore my wounded pride.
Fitz Darcy. My inferior. The thought made me smile. It also reminded me I needed to find a way to add AP Spanish to my course load, if not this semester, then next.
“Fine,” my mother relented. “It would be nice, I suppose, to have some money coming in, instead of always going out.”
I beamed. “Excellent. I’m going to go up and get my homework done before dinner. Star says we’re not to wait for her, they’re having cheerleading squad try-outs tonight.”
I was about to walk away when my mother reached for my hand, tugging on my wrist. “Are you sure about this, Beth? Wouldn’t you rather try out for the cheerleading squad? Instead of working some menial job. You only get to go through high school once. You know you’re not responsible for taking care of us. That’s my job. Even if I haven’t been the best at it over the summer.”
I pulled my wrist out of her grasp and hugged her to me instead.
“Mom, I can assure you I would rather pick up a thousand dirty dishes than stand on the sideline of a football game, in a short skirt, kicking my legs in the air, and telling the team to BE AGGRESSIVE! BE. AGGRESSIVE!”
I could feel her shoulders shake with laugher and that made me happy. For all the times I thought she was a little ridiculous, I still loved my mother. And Dad did leave her with nothing but debts and responsibilities. Which was crushing really. Through all that, she’d managed to put on a brave face.
Most days. Other days she simply didn’t get out of bed.
She patted me on the back and stepped away. “Enough of that then. Go do your homework.”
Over her shoulder, she called to Lyd and Kit who now had their faces in the Subzero refrigerator looking for a snack. “And you two. Pick a snack and close that refrigerator. Electricity costs money!”
They didn’t listen one little bit and I left them to my mother.
Making my way up the rounded central staircase to the second floor I veered left toward my room. If we sold this house…when we sold this house…we would never be able to afford anything as grand. Most likely I would have to share a room with Mary. Assuming we could hold off long enough until Star was in college.
Also assuming we could figure out a way to pay for Star to go to college.
I sighed and tried not to think too far into the future. Despite having an inglorious morning, the day hadn’t turned out so bad. I’d pissed off Fitz, hung out with my friends, and got the okay to pick up some shifts at The Club. I wasn’t going to worry about anything beyond that.
I heard my phone ding, and I took it out of the front pocket of my schoolbag. I flopped onto my queen-size canopy bed. Not my taste at all, but Mom had had all the bedrooms professionally decorated by an interior designer.
Glancing down at my phone, I smiled at the text somewhat evilly.
Fitz: Did you really sign up for Spanish?
Me: You’ve been thinking about that all day haven’t you?
Yes, of course we had each other’s cell numbers. Basically our contact list was the entire junior and most of the senior class. That’s how it worked in a small town with a small high school. You knew everyone. Everyone knew you. Contact with your enemies was just a way to keep tabs on them.
Fitz: I admit nothing. There’s no way you can fit it in. I checked.
Me: I have my ways. Stop concerning yourself with my course load.
Fitz: Fine. Burn yourself out. Whatever. Gi said she drove home with your sisters. I don’t approve.
Me: With my sisters? Or the fact that your sister drove home with Wick?
Fitz: Either. Both. Tell them to stay away from Gi.
I harrumphed in outrage. My sisters were nearly as ridiculous as my mother but only I got to think that.
Me: Tell your sister to stay away from them!
Fitz: I have. She says they’re funny. Silly is more like it.
Me: Yes. They’re fourteen-year-old girls. They’re allowed to be silly. Including Gi.
Fitz: I prefer people with more sense. And let’s face it, Star aside, you’re the only one who has any in your entire family. When is your father coming home anyway?
Me: He’s on sabbatical. Taking some time for himself. But he misses us dearly and calls every day.
I winced. That sounded too practiced. I mean, it was but Fitz was no fool.
There was a pause and I watched dots start and stop. Start and stop.
Shit, I thought. He knew. Or at least thought he knew. No doubt he was concluding my parents were separated. Which technically they were. No one knew just how separated.
Fitz: Does he know about your job at The Club?
Me: Of course. My father believes in hard work. He says it’s character building. You should try it sometime.
Fitz: You’re suggesting I have no character?
Me: I wouldn’t know since it’s never actually been put to the test. What do you think Fitz? Could you stoop so low as to actually pick up someone else’s used dish? Or are you above that?
Fitz: I would only do it, if it needed to be done. You’re not just learning Spanish are you?
I dropped the phone as if it had scorched me. It was a strange thing to be so well known to your sworn enemy. Like he could see inside my head. Make assumptions based on my actions because he knew deep down who I was.
I had to respond. I couldn’t leave it at that. He would consider it a victory if I didn’t answer. I needed something shocking. Something he wouldn’t expect.
Me: You got me. It’s not just the Spanish. I’m also having a super-hot affair with Javier, the bartender. He likes to take me in the storage closet during breaks and…well use your imagination. Bye Fitz.
No reply after that. I smiled victoriously.
The Darcy Residence
Fitz
“Is the soup okay?” my mother asked me. “You’re not eating.”
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The four of us were together at the formal dining room table. All other meals, we ate at the large kitchen table, but dinner, my mother said, was an event. Always served promptly at seven, which gave me enough time to get home from football practice, take a shower, and be seated at the table. Dad sat at the head, mom at the opposite end, and Gi and I across from one another.
We did this every night. At least when Mom wasn’t working and had to be present for a vote or at some political function. While she maintained a residence in Washington D.C., more often than not, she would make the daily commute home by train when Congress was in session. The Acela was only a two-hour ride from D.C. to 30th Street Station in Philadelphia, which was only another twenty-minute commute to Haddonfield.
Still, I knew it was an effort for her. The four hours back and forth. She would tell me she used the time to read up on legislation, which made sense, but I knew it cost her politically. Deals were made over dinners and late-night drinks in Washington, while my mom was out the door and headed home as soon as she could.
She did that for us. For all of us.
All that effort she gave just to be here with us, she still had enough energy left to notice I wasn’t eating.
Ed was right. I did have the best mom in world and there wasn’t a lot I wouldn’t do to make her happy.
“The soup is delicious. I was just lost in my thoughts,” I said even as I took another spoonful.
She smiled. “How was your first day back? Gi’s filled us in with her details. Now it’s your turn.”
“Fine.” I shrugged.
I wasn’t going to tell them about Wick. About a list Gi might or might not be on. Or that Gi had actually ridden home with him and Bennet sisters. She’d asked me not to tell, so I didn’t. I wasn’t a snitch and Gigi knew it.
If our father found out she was driving in cars with boys, he would not be pleased.
I certainly wasn’t going to tell them I’d been fixated on the idea that Beth Bennet was having sex with Javier from The Club in some closet. Had they been doing it on a night when we’d been there having dinner? Was it possible if I made a wrong turn to the men’s room, if I’d opened the wrong door, I might have seen her?
