Cutler 1 - Dawn

by V. C. Andrews

  "But why, Momma? I bet the other girls my age at Emerson Peabody go for rides with boys."

  "That don't matter none," Daddy snapped. "I don't want you riding around with this boy anymore." Daddy looked up at me and his handsome face was lit with a fiery rage—my mind raced, searching desperately for a reason for Daddy's anger.

  "Please, Dawn," Momma said. It was followed with a cough that nearly took her breath away.

  I looked toward Jimmy. He had the comic book up high, so I couldn't see his face and he couldn't see mine.

  "All right, Mommy."

  "That's a good girl, Dawn," she said. "Now we can start on dinner." Her hands were shaking, but I didn't know what caused it—her coughing or the tension in the room.

  "Aren't you home early, Daddy?" I asked. I had hoped to beat him and Jimmy home anyway.

  "I left a little early. It don't matter. I ain't as crazy about this job as I thought I was," he said to my surprise. Had he found out what the girls had done to me? Did that turn him against the school?

  "Did you have a fight with Mrs. Turnbell, Daddy?" I asked, suspecting his temper had reared its ugly head.

  "No. There's just so much to do. I don't know. We'll see." He gave me a look that said there'd be no more talk about it. Since Daddy had started working at Emerson Peabody, these looks and his temper had disappeared. Suddenly it was all returning and I was frightened.

  That night, after Fern had been put to sleep and Momma and Daddy went to bed, Jimmy turned to me after crawling under the covers.

  "I didn't do anything to get them hot and bothered about you going for a ride with Philip." Jimmy's dark eyes begged me to believe him. "I just told Daddy. Next thing I knew, we were rushing home. Honest."

  "I believe you, Jimmy. I guess they're just worried. We don't need any more problems," I said.

  "Of course, it don't bother me all that much that you won't be going for rides with Philip," he said. "All those rich kids are spoiled and always get what they want," he said bitterly, staring at me, his dark gaze catching my own and holding it tightly.

  "There are a lot of bad poor people, too, Jimmy."

  "At least they got an excuse. Dawn"—he paused—"be careful." With that, Jimmy turned over, moving as far away from me as he could and still be in the same bed with me.

  I didn't fall asleep for the longest time. All I could think about was not being able to go out with Philip—or even ride with him. The idea of it made me want to dig a well to cry my tears into—a well that would have been filled up in no time if Jimmy hadn't been there trying to sleep.

  Why couldn't I have this one thing I wanted? I'd had little enough until now, my brain cried, and I'd tried so hard to keep my family happy—to make smiles appear on my Daddy's face. How could they take this away, too?

  Philip was special. I relived his kiss, the way he brought his lips to mine, the deep blue in his eyes, the way my face glowed and the excitement that flashed through my body when his fingers touched my breast. Just thinking about it warmed me and made the butterflies in my stomach wake up all over again.

  It would have been exciting parking with him on that hill at night with the lights below us and the stars above us. When I closed my eyes, I imagined him in the dark moving closer, bringing his hands back to my breasts and his lips to mine. The image was so vivid, I felt a wave of warmth travel up my body as if I had lowered myself gently into a tepid bath. When it reached my neck, I moaned.

  I didn't realize I had done so aloud until Jimmy spoke.

  "What?" he asked.

  "I didn't say anything," I said quickly.

  "Oh. Okay. Night," he repeated.

  "Night," I said and turned over so I could force myself to sleep and forget.

  5

  MY BROTHER'S KEEPER

  Philip came to school extra early the next morning just so he could meet me before all the other students had arrived. Daddy went right to work on an electrical problem they were having in the gymnasium, and Jimmy and I went to his office as usual. A few minutes after we had arrived, Philip came to the door.

  "Morning," he said and smiled at both Jimmy's and my look of surprise. "I had to get to the library early this morning and thought I'd see if you were here."

  "The library don't open this early," Jimmy replied, busting Philip's flimsy excuse to bits.

  "Sometimes it is," Philip insisted.

  "I've got to go to the library, too," I said. "I'll join you."

  Jimmy scowled as I got up.

  "See you later, Jimmy," I said and walked upstairs with Philip.

  "I was thinking about you a lot last night," Philip said. "I wanted to call you every five minutes last night to see how you were. Are you going to get a phone soon?"

  "Oh, Philip," I said, spinning on him, "I don't think so. Jimmy would just hate me for saying all this, but I have to be truthful. We're a very poor family. The only reason Jimmy and I are in this school is on account of my daddy having this job. That's why I wear these plain clothes and Jimmy just wears a pair of dungarees and a shirt. He'll wear the same shirt twice a week at least. I've got to wash everything right away so we can wear it again. We're not just living in that ugly neighborhood temporarily. It's the nicest place we've ever lived!" I cried and started away.

  Philip reached out quickly and seized my arm.

  "Hey." He spun me about. "I knew all that."

  "You did?"

  "Sure. Everyone knows how you got into Emerson Peabody."

  "They do? Of course they do," I realized bitterly. "I'm sure we're on everybody's gossip list, especially your sister's."

  "I don't listen to gossip, and I don't care whether you're here because your father's rich or because your father works here. I'm just happy you're here," he said. "And as for belonging here—you belong here more than most of these spoiled kids. I know your teachers are happy you're here, and Mr. Moore is walking on a cloud because he finally has a very talented student to teach," Philip declared. He looked so sincere. His eyes shone bright with determination, and his gaze was so soft and warm upon me that I shivered.

  "You're probably just saying all these nice things to make me feel better," I said softly.

  "I'm not. Really." He smiled. "Cross my heart and hope to fall in a well full of chocolate sauce." I laughed. "That's better. Don't be so serious all the time." He looked around and then drew closer, practically pressing his body to mine. "When can you and I take a ride again?"

  "Oh, Philip, I can't take any more rides with you." Uttering the words hurt so much, but I couldn't disobey Momma and Daddy.

  "Why not?" His eyes grew small. "Did my sister or her friends say something else to you about me, because whatever they said, it's a lie," he added quickly.

  "No, it's not that" I looked down. "I had to promise Momma and Daddy I wouldn't."

  "Huh? How come? Someone say something to your father about me?" he demanded. I shook my head.

  "It's not you, Philip. They think I'm too young yet, and I can't do anything about it right now. We have too many problems."

  He stared hard at me and then suddenly smiled.

  "Well, then," he said, refusing to be defeated. "I’ll just wait until they give you permission. I might even speak to your father."

  "Oh, no, Philip. Please don't. I don't want to make anyone unhappy, least of all Daddy."

  Despite my words, part of me wanted Philip to talk to Daddy. I was so flattered that he wouldn't give up on me or take no for an answer. He was my knight in shining armor who wanted to whisk me off into the sunset and give me everything I had always dreamed of.

  "Okay," he said. "Take it easy. If you don't want me to talk to him I won't."

  "Even though Daddy won't let me ride with you now, I want you to know I will go for a ride with you as soon as they say it's all right," I added in a rush.

  I didn't want to lose Philip. He was becoming a special part of my life that I liked very much. When I saw that his eyes brightened hopefully, I felt much better.
>
  We heard the doors opening and saw some other students beginning to arrive. Philip looked toward the library.

  "I do have to get some research material for my term paper. It wasn't a total fib," he said, smiling. He started backing away. "See you later."

  He kept backing up until he backed into a wall. We both laughed. Then he turned and hurried toward the library. I took a deep breath and turned to the front doors. The rest of the student body was charging in, and I caught sight of Louise. Louise waved, so I waited for her.

  "Everyone's talking about you," she said, rushing over to me, her pale, freckled face flushed with excitement.

  "Oh?"

  "They all know you went for a ride with Philip after school. Linda just told me there's a lot of gossip at the dorms."

  "What are they saying?" My heart was racing like a train at the thought of all these rich girls talking about me.

  Louise looked back at the growing crowd of arriving students and nodded toward the girls' room. I followed her in.

  "Maybe I shouldn't tell you," Louise said.

  "Of course you should. If you want to be my friend, like you keep saying you want to be. Friends don't hide things from each other. They help each other."

  "Clara Sue's telling everyone that her brother wouldn't be interested in a girl like you, a girl from such a poor family, if he hadn't found out that you have a reputation. . . ."

  "Reputation? What kind of a reputation?"

  "A reputation for going all the way on the first date," she admitted finally and bit her lower lip quickly as if to punish herself for permitting the words to fall out of her mouth. "She told the girls Philip told her you two . . . did it yesterday. She said her brother bragged."

  I could see the way she eyed me that she wasn't convinced it was all a lie.

  "It's a disgusting, hateful lie!" I shouted. Louise only shrugged.

  "Now Linda and the other girls are saying the same things. I'm sorry, but you wanted to know."

  "I never met a girl as horrible as Clara Sue Cutler," I said. I felt the fury in my face, but I couldn't help it. One moment the world was bright and beautiful. There were birds singing and the sky was blessed with soft, clean white clouds that made you feel happy to be alive and able to see them, and the next moment, a storm came rushing in, flooding the blue with dirty dark gray and drowning the sunlight and the laughter and the smiles.

  "They want me to spy on you," Louise whispered. "Linda just asked me."

  "Spy? What do they mean?"

  "Tell them anything you tell me about things you do with Philip," she explained. "But I would never tell them anything you told me in confidence," she said. "You see you can trust me," she added, but I wondered if she had told me what the girls were saying because she really wanted to help me or because she wanted to see me made sad.

  Jimmy was right about rich people, I thought. These rich, spoiled girls were much more conniving than the girls I had known at my other schools. They had more time to spend on intrigues and seemed to swim in a pool of jealousy. There were more green eyes here, and everyone was so conscious of what each wore and had. Of course, girls were proud of their nice clothes and their jewelry everywhere I had been, but here they flaunted it more, and if one had something special, the others tried to have something even better very quickly.

  I was no threat to them as far as clothes and jewelry went; yet it must be bothering them a great deal that Philip Cutler cared about me. They couldn't get him to care about them, no matter how expensive their clothes were and how dazzling their jewels were.

  "So what did happen yesterday?" Louise asked.

  "Nothing," I said. "He was very polite. He took me for a ride and showed me wonderful scenery and then he took me home."

  "He didn't try to . . . do anything?"

  "No," I said and quickly swung my eyes away. When I looked back at her, I could see her disappointment. "So Clara Sue had better stop spreading her lies."

  "She's just ashamed her brother likes you," Louise said rather nonchalantly.

  How horrible, I thought, to be considered so much lower than someone else just because your parents weren't rich. It was on the tip of my tongue to say she could tell Clara Sue not to worry anymore anyway, since my parents had forbidden me to go riding with Philip, but before I could say anything, we heard the bell for homeroom.

  "Oh, no," I said, realizing the time. "We're going to be late."

  "That's all right," Louise said. "I've never been late before. Old Turnkey won't keep us after school for just one lateness."

  "We had better get going anyway," I said, heading for the door. Louise stopped in the doorway when opened it.

  "I'll tell you what they say about you," she said, her watery eyes watching me from under her lashes, "if you want me to."

  "I don’t care what they say about me," I lied. "They're not worth caring about." I hurried on to homeroom with Louise right beside me, her shoes clicking as we flew down the hallway. My heart, which had been made of feathers, had suddenly grown as heavy as lead.

  "You girls are late," Mr. Wengrow said the moment we came through the doorway.

  "I'm sorry, sir," I said first. "We were in the bathroom and—"

  "Gossiping and you didn't hear the bell," he concluded and shook his head. Louise hurried to her desk, and I slipped into mine. Mr. Wengrow made some notations and then slapped his yardstick on the desk in anticipation of the morning's announcements.

  Another day at Emerson Peabody had only just begun, and already I felt as if I had been on a roller coaster for hours and hours.

  A little more than halfway through the third period, I was called out of my social studies class to see Mrs. Turnbell. When I came to her office, her secretary glared at me and spoke curtly, telling me to take a seat.

  I had to wait at least another ten full minutes and wondered why I had been told to come right away if I couldn't go right in. I was missing valuable class time just sitting there. Finally Mrs. Turnbell buzzed her secretary, who then told me to go in.

  Mrs. Turnbell was sitting behind her desk, looking down and writing. She didn't even look up when I entered. I stood there for a few moments, waiting, clutching my books to my chest tightly. Then, still without looking at me, she told me to take the seat in front of her desk. She continued to write for a few moments after I had sat down. Finally her cold gray eyes lifted from the papers before her and she sat back in her seat.

  "Why were you late for homeroom today?" she demanded without any greeting first.

  "Oh. I was talking to a friend in the bathroom, and we got so involved, I lost track of time until the second bell rang, but as soon as it had, I ran to my homeroom," I said.

  "I can't believe I have another problem with you so soon."

  "It's not a problem, Mrs. Turnbell. I”"

  "Do you know that your brother has been late twice for classes since you two were entered in this school?" she snapped.

  I shook my head.

  "And now you," she added, nodding.

  "It's my first lateness. Ever," I added.

  "Ever?" She raised her dark and somewhat bushy eyebrows skeptically. "In any case this is not the place to begin developing bad habits. This is especially not the place," she emphasized.

  "Yes, ma'am," I said. "I'm sorry."

  "I believe I explained our rules to you and your brother on your first morning here. Tell me, Miss Longchamp, was my explanation adequate?" She kept on without allowing me to answer. "I told you that both of you had an extra burden and an extra responsibility since your father was employed here," she continued. Her words stung and made the tears that had flown into my eyes feel hot.

  "When a brother and sister have the same bad habits," she went on, "it is not hard to determine that they have them because they come from the same background."

  "But we don't have bad habits, Mrs. Turnbell.

  "Don't be insolent! Are you questioning my judgment?"

  "No, Mrs. Turnbell," I said and bit
down on my lower lip to keep myself from adding any words.

  "You will report to detention immediately after school today," she snapped.

  "But . . ."

  "What?" She raised her eyes and glared at me.

  "I have a piano lesson with Mr. Moore after school and—"

  "You're going to have to miss this one, but you have only yourself to blame," she said. "Now, return to your class," she commanded.

  "What happened?" Louise asked when I saw her on the way to the cafeteria.

  "I got detention for being late to homeroom," I moaned.

  "Really? Detention for being late only once?" She tilted her head. "I guess I’m next, only . . ."

  "Only what?"

  "Clara Sue and Linda have been late to class twice this week, and the Turnkey hasn't even called them down to reprimand and them. Usually it's after three late classes."

  "I think she's clumped my brother's two and my one together," I reasoned sourly.

  Philip was waiting for me at the entrance to the cafeteria. He saw the sad look on my face, and I told him what had happened.

  "That's so unfair," he said. "Maybe you should have your father speak to her."

  "Oh, I couldn't ask Daddy to do that. What if she got mad at him, and had him fired and all on account of me!"

  Philip snorted.

  "It's still not fair," he said. He looked down at the paper bag I had clutched in my hand. "And what gourmet sandwich did you make for yourself today?" he asked.

  "I. . ." All I had in my bag was an apple I had grabbed on the way out. Fern had gotten up earlier than usual, and between taking care of her and making breakfast, I had just forgotten to make any sandwiches until it was time to leave. I could make Daddy late for work, so I made a sandwich quickly for Jimmy and threw an apple into a paper bag for myself "I just have an apple today," I said.

  "What? You can't just have an apple for lunch. Let me buy you lunch today."

  "Oh, no, I don't have much of an appetite anyway and—."

  "Please. I never bought a girl lunch before. All the girls I ever knew could buy me lunch twice over," he added, laughing.