Mephisto Waltz

by Bridgett Kay Specht

  I could feel myself blush. "Of course I’m not. I thought you were going to call me before coming over. I was going to ask you what I should wear."

  "You said you had already called," Clara said to Summer.

  "I must have forgotten." Summer said brightly, completely unabashed. She came over and grabbed my hand. "Show me where your room is so we can pick out an outfit."

  As I led Summer and Clara up the winding staircase, I asked, "How did you get my address?"

  "I work as an office aide at school, seventh period," Summer said.

  "I don't think you're supposed to look at student records." Clara said, with an air of amused tolerance. Summer just shrugged.

  We stepped into my room, which was a large, airy bedroom decorated in white and light blue. A queen-size canopy bed with white drapes stood in the far corner, close to a bay window through which you could barely make out a strip of blue sea behind the rows of houses. I was glad I had cleaned my room that morning; Clara and Summer both looked impressed.

  "My clean clothes are in the armoire." I said. "The closet is mostly full of boxes I haven't unpacked."

  "Everything is so neat." Summer said as she opened the doors on the armoire. "I keep most of my clothes in several piles on the floor: clean, passable, and rank."

  We went through my clothes, all of which seemed to be childish and old-fashioned compared with what Summer and Clara were wearing. Summer only had compliments for them, though, and declared almost every outfit she saw "cute." She completely took over the task of dressing me while Clara sat on the bed, looking at the pile of stuffed animals resting against the pillows. She picked up one, a large, flop-eared bunny with a giant blue ribbon around his neck, and gave him a light kiss on the nose.

  "This one's my favorite. He's adorable."

  My first impulse was to tell Clara that she could have him, but I couldn't quite make the words come out of my mouth. I sat awkwardly, watching her smooth down the rabbit's ears and straighten his ribbon, until Summer squealed.

  "This one!" She held up a pink skirt, trimmed with white eyelet lace, and a white shirt with puffed sleeves and a peter-pan collar. It was one of my favorites, but it looked extremely childish and I told Summer so, but Summer shook her head stubbornly.

  "I don't care. It suits you perfectly."

  "So, you're saying I look childish, too?" I asked, not quite keeping an edge of annoyance out of my voice.

  "Of course you do, but it's cute," she said cheerfully. "Put this on, and I'll pick out a bathing suit for you."

  I sighed and took the outfit, vaguely wondering why I was obeying this girl as if she were my mother. I went into the bathroom to change, and spent a few moments looking at myself in the full-length mirror which hung on the door. The outfit was cute, but I couldn't help but notice that the way the skirt fell on my knee made me look even shorter than I was. My nose had become extremely freckled over the summer, and I tried to cover it with loose powder, but I realized that the powder would just wash off if we went swimming.

  "Who are you kidding?" I asked myself. "You could be in elementary school."

  When I emerged from the bathroom, though, Summer gushed. "Perfect!" she exclaimed. "You are going to have a boyfriend within two weeks; I guarantee it."

  I looked to Clara, who was still sitting on the bed clutching the rabbit on her lap, for her approval. She looked away as soon as my eyes met hers, placed the rabbit back against the pillows, her expression inscrutable.

  Summer handed me the bathing suit she'd picked out, and I stuffed it, along with a towel, in my beach bag, and then headed downstairs.

  My mother was waiting for us as we descended. "You girls all look very nice. Miranda, I want you to have fun, but be home by 10:30. Call me if your plans change. Will you need to borrow the car?"

  "If I may," I said, grateful she understood why I wasn't driving my own.

  "Of course you may," she smiled. "Have fun, girls."

  "Thanks, Mrs. Rothschild," Summer said politely, though when we were out of earshot I heard her mumble, "10:30 on a Friday?"

  #

  I took my mother's tan sedan and followed Summer's tiny electric-blue convertible. It wasn't a long before we pulled into a long driveway near a small penthouse nestled behind some dunes. When I got nearer the faded blue house, I could see an old and broken sign reading, "The Lazy G_ ll inn."

  Summer led us through the front door and we found ourselves in a spacious lobby, littered with ancient looking sofas and chairs, and with an assortment of musical instruments and amplifiers against the far wall. Jason was sitting on a particularly old and duct-taped sofa, tuning a guitar, while Chad sat at a dilapidated bar drinking a coke.

  "Great, you came early!" Chad said to us, though looking only at Clara. "Sit down, have a drink, chill."

  Summer and Clara sat on the only other available barstools, leaving me to sit on one of the couches. I sat primly on the edge of one of the least threadbare, which was quite near Jason. He smiled as I sat, and began to play a few notes in a blues tune, looking me in the eyes and moving his head as if he were speaking. I didn’t know what to say, but Summer spared me the need.

  "I'm bored. Let's go swimming. No one else is coming until after 7:00," She sighed.

  Everyone agreed, and Summer, Clara and I went into the girl's bathroom to change. "No peeking," Summer told Chad quite seriously as we went.

  "Is it likely he’ll peek?" I asked Clara in a low voice.

  "Not really," she shrugged. "Summer caught him once and gave him a bloody nose. He won’t try again."

  I didn't feel very reassured, but the bathroom had several stalls, and I chose one that was close to the wall and had no visible cracks or holes. I changed quickly, threw on a sarong, and braided my hair as quickly as I could. Clara threw an oversized t-shirt over her bathing suit, but Summer went out in nothing but a small bikini and flip-flops, looking completely at ease with herself.

  "You aren't going to swim in that, are you?" Chad asked me, frowning at my sarong. I felt myself blush.

  "It's just a cover-up," Summer told him. "Stop being such a perv."

  "It's bad enough that Clara always wears that t-shirt. I don't know what I'd do without you, Summer."

  "You'd survive," she replied, rolling her eyes.

  Chad and Jason grabbed a couple of boogie boards from the back porch, and then we all made our way down a small, overgrown path through the dunes. As we passed the last of the tangled scrub, the path opened up to a pristine stretch of sand, which shone in the afternoon sun. The sky above was light blue, and filled with clouds which billowed into a huge tower of white. The sea was a much deeper blue, and cream-colored foam adorned the dancing waves. I didn't have much time to drink in the beauty, because Jason grabbed my hand and dragged me forward, after the others.

  "Come on, Miranda. I'll teach you how to boogie board."

  Boogie boarding was easier than it looked. As soon as I caught my first wave, I was flying, skimming over the water with ease. Jason kept giving me tips even after I'd gotten the hang of it, and held the board for me as we waited for a suitable wave. Summer caught my eye and gave me a knowing wink.

  We hadn't been in the water long before the sky began to darken, and I looked up to see that the billowing white clouds had become dark and ominous. We swam to shore, but sat on the beach for a while, watching the storm build. Everything at first was quiet and still, but soon a small gust of wind came along, followed by stronger, more sudden gusts that whipped my hair back from my face. The wind eventually overcame the stillness and whipped the waves into white froth, dancing madly against the grey sea.

  A low rumble of thunder drew my attention to the sky, and I looked up to see lightning crackle and leap within the clouds. On my right side, Clara sighed, and when I looked at her, she seemed completely enrapt, her wide eyes greedily drinking in every detail of the scene before us.

  "It's like all of those old stories. While the sea is whipped into a frenzy, the beauti
ful sirens sit on the shore, luring men to their deaths." Chad gestured to Clara, Summer and I.

  "They do make a rather complete picture," Jason replied, "a fiery redhead, a statuesque brunette, and an alluring blonde, sitting together like the three graces."

  "The three graces?" asked Summer.

  "Alluring?" I asked incredulously at the same time.

  Jason ignored Summer and answered me. "You are very alluring."

  I laughed. "Don't make fun of me. I know what I am."

  "Then, what are you?" Clara asked, laying back on the sand and looking up at the clouds.

  "I'm cute." I said, echoing Summer from earlier. "I’m not exactly hideous, but certainly not alluring. I’m not a dangerous siren or one of the graces. I'm a short schoolgirl."

  Everyone laughed. Then Jason said, "You can be both cute and alluring. Not many people can pull it off, but you can."

  I didn't like the way the conversation was going, or how forward Jason was being with me, and was about to say so when Summer said, "you guys only think of girls. I want to watch the storm. Can't you just sit back and appreciate the view?"

  "We are." Jason and Chad said at the same time, and Clara laughed while Summer pretended to pout.

  The skies finally opened up, and we had to run back to the beach house.

  #

  When we got back, the other band members had arrived and were tuning their instruments, and a few girls were sitting on one of the couches, talking and giggling together. Summer introduced me to the band; Brad was the bassist, who was a senior at the public high school, and Chase was the singer and keyboardist, who had also gone to the public high school but had recently graduated. Summer threw her sundress back over her swimsuit and sat talking with the girls on the couch, who were the band mates' girlfriends, while Clara and I went to the bathroom to change and brush our hair. When we returned, the whole band had assembled and other people, some I recognized from school and some that must have been from the public high school, began to arrive. I was about to say hello to a rather tall boy I knew from my Latin class when Clara pulled me aside.

  "Can we go back into the front hallway? The band is about to start and they can get really loud."

  I nodded- I already could barely hear over all of the people anyway- and we went back into the hallway.

  Clara was right about the volume. The band was very loud, and had an industrial sound which I liked, despite my usually conservative musical tastes. It wasn't the type of music I would listen to at home, but at a party on a Friday night they were enjoyable. They played two songs very well, but just as people were starting to dance Brad lost the rhythm and stopped playing. He accused Chad of making him mess up, and as they argued people began to wander off in groups.

  Summer stopped dancing and came over to Clara and me. "Don't worry, they do this all the time. People will come back when they start playing again."

  "Summer, I'm not feeling very well, can you take me home?" Clara asked. She did indeed look pale, and she bit her lip as she looked pleadingly at Summer.

  "But it's so early, and that guy I've had my eye on from the public school is here. I think he finally broke up with that little-"

  "Yes, but he's here." Clara said cryptically.

  "I can take you home, if you like." I said.

  "Really, you don't mind?" Clara sighed with relief.

  "Don't you want to stay and listen?" Summer asked, looking disappointed.

  "I like the music, but I'm not used to large groups of people. If you're having fun, you should stay, though," I replied.

  Summer sighed. "Well, I guess you weren't going to stay very late anyway, with that 10:30 curfew of yours. I guess I'll see you later."

  Summer didn't seem to be too lost without Clara and me. When I looked back she was already the center of attention in a nice sized group, telling some funny story.

  Outside the rain had become a light drizzle, and it was warm and humid inside the car. Clara ran her hands through her still-damp hair. "Thanks for rescuing me. I hate parties anyway, but I especially couldn't stand being at the same one as David." She said the name with utter contempt.

  "Do you mean David Andersen, from Latin?" I asked, remembering the boy I'd been about to talk to when she'd pulled me into the hallway. "He seems nice enough."

  "Yes, he does seem nice. It's too bad he's an evil bastard in reality," she said, with more spite than I would have believed someone like her capable of. Then she stopped and smiled in a sad, tentative way. "I'm sorry; you don't know what happened between us. It's a long and boring story, and I've already ruined your evening."

  "Don't be sorry. I don't really like parties that much, either," I lied. "Do you want to go home?"

  "Not really, but I don't want to stay there. Do you want to go to the bookstore downtown? I'd like to see if they have an art book I’ve been waiting for."

  I smiled, "that sounds nice. I'll call my mother before we go. She's really strict about knowing where I am."

  I called Mother, and she laughed. “Miranda, you’re the only teenager I know who would leave a party to go to a bookstore.”

  #

  The bookstore was a little nook downtown crammed with books, and with a late-night cafe in front called "Le Chat Jolie." We spent a while looking at the books; she was in the art section while I perused the classics, and then we took our collected spoils into the café to read.

  We chose a table in the far corner of the café, next to the window and away from the noise of a caffeine-fueled argument which was brewing in the midst of a group of college students. We ordered tea and sandwiches, and sat in companionable silence as we waited for them to arrive.

  Clara stared out of the window, watching the rain splatter against the glass. The corner in which we sat was dark, but light from the streetlamp outside shone through the window and onto Clara’s face, bathing her serene countenance in pale light, making her seem like a Madonna.

  I was content to sit and watch Clara, but after a time, she turned to me and spoke.

  “You’ve survived your first week at St. Avila prep. What do you think, so far?”

  "So far, it's nice," I replied. "I'm glad I'm actually making friends this term. I was a total pariah at my last school."

  Clara raised her eyebrows, looking genuinely surprised. "Why would that be? I mean, you're nice, you seem relatively normal, and- even though it shouldn’t matter- you're pretty. You should have had plenty of friends."

  I decided not to argue with her assessment of my looks, though I could feel myself blush.

  "I guess I'm just a nerd. I'm a bookworm, I'm short enough to be in junior high, and people thought-" I stopped myself before I said people had thought my brother was odd, "people thought I was odd."

  Clara gave me a knowing smirk. "You are a tiny bit odd, but Summer uses her considerable power to protect us oddballs."

  "I know that I fall under the ‘oddball’ category," I said, “but why do you include yourself?”

  "You mean, aside from the fact that I’m the only openly gay student in a conservative Texas prep school?" she laughed.

  “I see your point, but no one at school seems to mind that you’re gay,” I said.

  “Summer’s my friend, so they wouldn’t dare to say anything,” Clara said. “Plus, they’ve had time to get used to me, since I was outed my freshman year.”

  "Your freshman year?" I asked, unable to keep the surprise from my voice. “I’m sorry. I know it’s none of my business.”

  “Don’t worry,” she said indulgently. “I had only just turned 15, and you’re right; I wasn’t ready to handle everything that happened to me.

  "After spring break, that year, everyone in the group Summer and I ran around with started pairing off. David and I started dating, not because I liked David or wanted to date him, but because he liked me and all of our friends seemed to think we were perfect together. I was trying to be normal, so I went along. He was fun to be with, so everything went well until David dec
ided he wanted to get more physical."

  We were interrupted, then, by the waitress, who brought our tea and sandwiches. When the waitress left, I could see Clara watching my face intently, as though gaging whether it was safe to continue. I gave a small, encouraging smile, and she smiled back and continued.

  "Well, of course I kept putting him off, saying that I was too young, and that I wasn't ready. He backed off at first, but he started to become jealous and possessive. He thought I liked another guy, and wouldn't believe that there was any other reason I wasn't interested in having sex. He started pressuring me again, and one night he became frightening- you might even say abusive. He started yelling at me, demanding to know who the other guy was. I was scared, and I let it slip that I did like someone else. He hit me. It was just a slap across the face, but it woke me out of my fear, and made me angry. I blurted out that I liked Amber Cooper, that I was gay, and that I never wanted to see him again."

  I could feel my face go warm with anger, and part of me wished David had been present, so I could slap him. I took a deep breath to calm myself and let her go on.

  "Needless to say, he didn't take this news very well. The next day at school, everyone knew what I'd told him. It was awful. Someone took a magic marker and wrote "dyke" all over my locker and my gym clothes- that took weeks to come out- and people I didn't even know would come up to me and tell me I was going to hell. A couple of idiots asked me if they could 'watch.' Amber wouldn't even speak to me anymore, and she had been one of my best friends. Summer surprised me, though. She sat with me at lunch, and acted like nothing had ever happened. Summer had always been more popular than Amber and David put together, so eventually people stopped picking on me.

  "Chad surprised me, too. I’d known he’d had a crush on me since elementary school, but he remained friends with me, and I was grateful to have him as my friend. Summer found out that he could play drums, and introduced him to Jason, who used to just sit around by himself, and they started the band. Now no one is really left out at school, anymore. If they are, Summer either finds out where they'd fit in best, or befriends them herself."