The Darlings Are Forever

by Melissa Kantor

  Opening her eyes, she found herself looking at an extremely pretty girl. Natalya smiled, and the girl in the mirror smiled back. She stuck out her tongue, and so did her unfamiliar reflection. Jane had done her makeup, lining her eyes with a pale silver powder and putting a smoky color on the lids. Her eyes looked twice as big as they normally did—a dark, dark brown so deep it was almost black. She’d wanted to use Jane’s bright red lipstick, but Jane had refused. Your eyes are your best feature. You don’t want to overpower them. She’d been right. The pale coral she’d traced over Natalya’s mouth—a shade not unlike the one Natalya had applied that day at lunch with Morgan, Sloane, and Katrina—was perfect.

  It was weird to look at herself and see someone so…well, sexy. Natalya twirled in front of the enormous mirror. She stood with her back to it and checked one more time that her underwear didn’t show. She turned and faced the mirror, still amazed to find someone so pretty staring back at her.

  She knew it was time to go downstairs, but the thought of leaving the party made her sad. She wanted a chance to be sparkly for a night. Just one night. Then she’d tell Victoria everything, and never, ever put her in this position again.

  Unless…What were Victoria and Morgan talking about? Was it already too late? Had her secret been revealed? Or…maybe everything was going fine. Maybe Morgan, Victoria, and Jane were even becoming friends.

  Maybe she was crazy to worry.

  She pushed open the door and looked around. Across the landing from her, in another enormous room, people were watching a movie she’d never seen. It was a black-and-white film, and the glow from the projection TV was the only light in the room. There was a room next to the movie room, but it was dark, and the door was only partially open; it was hard to tell what was inside.

  So this was a mansion. She, Natalya Petrova, was standing in a mansion. Walking quickly, she made her way across the landing and pushed open the door to the mysterious room. The moon pouring through the high windows provided enough light for her to see the gigantic pool table that dominated the space. She walked over to it and gently touched the soft felt. As her eyes adjusted to the dim light, she made out a wooden rack lined with cues on the opposite wall.

  A pool room. An actual pool room. Natalya had only seen rooms like this in the movies.

  Suddenly she heard footsteps. A minute later, someone said, “In here,” flipped a switch, and the room was flooded with light pouring down from the low-hanging, green-glass-shaded lamps. At least seven guys swarmed into the room. Natalya steeled herself for a humiliating exchange. What are you doing lurking in my family’s private pool room?

  But no one seemed to find it even remotely odd that she was standing there. A couple of the boys said hi as they made their way to the wall and grabbed cues from the rack. One turned to her. “You want to play?”

  She was so surprised she laughed. “Me? Oh, no thanks.”

  “You sure?” asked the guy, taking a cue.

  Natalya just nodded. She couldn’t believe she’d just been invited to play pool with a bunch of guys. Was it the dress? The party? Some combination of both? The night had a magical feel, like anything could happen.

  “Solids,” said someone.

  “Whatever,” said someone else, and then Natalya slipped out the nearest door and shut it behind her.

  She was standing in a small hallway that led to a different staircase from the one she’d come up before. Two staircases. There were two staircases in this house. This one wasn’t nearly as grand as the front one. Was it the servants’ staircase? The house must have dated back to the days when people had servants. Or, wait. Maybe people still had servants.

  If anyone had servants, it would be the Prewitt family.

  Curious, she climbed the flight of stairs. At the top she pushed open a plain wooden door and found another flight. At the top of this flight was another.

  How big was this house?

  She kept climbing and, to her relief, didn’t find another flight at the top of this one. She was standing at one end of a long hallway. It was completely silent up here—you would never have guessed there were any other people in the house. Far, far down the hall was a dimly lit room. Through the open doorway, Natalya could see an armchair and a reading lamp; there was a book open over the arm of the chair, but no one was sitting in it. Even though she knew it was rude to snoop around someone else’s house, she found herself making her way down the long hallway.

  At the threshold, she hesitated, looking into what was almost definitely a guy’s room. Above a bed with a plaid bedspread was a poster of the solar system. The desk was under a window, and on it was a computer with a screen dear to Natalya’s heart.

  It was a chessboard.

  Natalya couldn’t resist. Moving silently, she crossed the thick blue carpet and studied the board. It was a tight game. Black had the advantage, but only slightly. She leaned her hands on the desk and put her face closer to the computer screen. Maybe he should…

  “Can I help you?”

  Even though Natalya was the intruder, the male voice made her yelp in terror. She spun around, heart thudding. “I’m sorry. I think…I think I’m in the wrong place.” This was so stupid. What if the person complained about her to Morgan? The dim light made it hard to see who’d discovered her, but his voice was deep enough to tell her he wasn’t a little kid.

  Could she have invaded one of the servants’ rooms?

  “I’m really sorry,” she said again. She started to make her way toward the door. As she did, the stranger did something to the light, and suddenly it was bright as an operating room. Natalya blinked and shaded her eyes.

  “Oh,” he said quickly. “My bad. I didn’t mean to blind you.” He adjusted a dial, and this time the light was more normal.

  Natalya’s eyes were still swimming, but even so, she could tell the boy was about her age. Unlike the boys from the party, he was wearing jeans and a T-shirt, but like theirs, his hair was cut short and neat. He was slightly taller than she was, and he stood staring down at her, his look a question.

  “I…Sorry,” Natalya said again. She was about to explain that she hadn’t been able to resist looking at his chess game, but that would have revealed she was a snoop and a dork. Better to just have been trespassing.

  The boy kept studying her. “You were checking out my game.”

  “No I wasn’t,” Natalya lied.

  The boy laughed. “Yes you were. I saw you. Do you know about chess?”

  Natalya didn’t say anything, and the boy looked at her for another moment before he shrugged, walked past her, and sat down at his computer. Natalya noticed he was carrying a can of soda, and she wondered if he’d left his game to get it.

  Without turning back to look at her, the boy said, “Never mind.” He ran his hand back and forth over his head a couple of times and seemed to be speaking more to himself than to Natalya. “I don’t seriously expect some random girl who accidentally stumbles into my room during a party to be able to save my ass in a chess game I’ve been losing for the past several hours.”

  Natalya waited a second, then realized feigning ignorance was lame. Obviously this boy played chess. Why would he think someone else who played was a dork?

  “You opened with the dragon,” she announced abruptly. It was something of a guess, but given where the board was now, there were a limited number of possibilities.

  There was a pause, and then the boy said, “Okay, so it turns out that the random girl who accidentally stumbled into my room during a party just might be able to save my ass in the chess game I’ve been losing for the past several hours.”

  Natalya took a step back toward the desk, then examined the screen for a long time. The boy let her; he didn’t ask her any questions or tell her anything about what he’d been planning to do. Finally, she said, “Rook to D-four.” She took a step closer, then reached forward and lightly touched the screen, tracing the move she’d just suggested. “If you do that,” she said, “I bet he�
�ll…” and she drew a line from the boy’s opponent’s queen to a square near the edge of the board.

  “Wow.” He shook his head in amazement, and she got a whiff of a sweet, pleasant-smelling soap or shampoo.

  Suddenly Natalya realized something. This boy lived here. She stepped away from the desk. “You’re Morgan’s brother.” Her question came out sounding more like an accusation.

  “Um, okay, you got me.” His hair was the same rich blond as Morgan’s, and his eyes, also like Morgan’s, were so dark a blue they were almost purple. His nose was straight and long, the male version of Morgan’s. “I guess I’ll plead guilty,” he added.

  He extended a hand toward Natalya, and she took it, feeling a little funny to be shaking hands with someone who wasn’t a friend of her parents.

  “I’m Natalya,” she said.

  “Nice to meet you, Natalya. I’m Colin.”

  Colin? Who was Colin? “Wait, I thought your name was Grant.” Natalya tried to remember if Morgan had mentioned her brother Colin, but she drew a blank. Still, they’d only talked that one day at lunch, and Grant had only come up because of Katrina’s crush on him. For all Natalya knew, Morgan had twenty brothers and sisters.

  Colin shook his head and put his lips together in mock regret. “Sorry.” He pretended to check his watch. “It’s ten thirty on a Friday night, which means Grant’s the one with a bottle of beer in one hand and a girl’s butt in the other.”

  Natalya laughed, and Colin added. “I’m the other brother.”

  “The other brother?” Natalya repeated.

  “You know, the funny one who plays a mean game of chess.”

  “Mmmm, not that mean,” Natalya said.

  Colin clutched at his heart. “Ouch.”

  “Sorry,” said Natalya quickly, worried for a second that what she’d meant to sound funny just made her seem mean.

  “Don’t be,” Colin said, smiling to show he meant it. “I was kidding.”

  Natalya had just enough time to realize she was smiling back at him before her phone buzzed, and she glanced down at the screen. Where r u? We r in the library. It was Jane. Had something happened with Morgan and Victoria?

  “I should probably go.”

  “Okay,” said Colin. “Party hardy.”

  “Um, where’s the library?” Natalya asked, trying not to sound disappointed that he didn’t seem to care that she was leaving.

  Still facing the screen, Colin said, “Out the door, staircase to your right, go down two flights, through the kitchen, up half a flight, make a left.”

  “Out the door, staircase to my right, go down two flights, um, kitchen…” Natalya hesitated.

  Instead of speaking, Colin spun his chair around so he was facing her. “What are we going to do with you?” he asked, shaking his head in mock disappointment. He grabbed a pen from a container next to the computer and rolled close to where she was standing. “Hand,” he commanded.

  Without asking why he wanted it, she held out her hand. He took it lightly in his own and started drawing something on the back. His fingers, as they held her palm, were warm, and she noticed the nails were clean and short but not bitten. A minute later, still not having spoken a word since hand, he rolled away, leaving, along with a tingly sensation that had traveled up her arm to settle in her chest, a small map on the back of her hand.

  “So you won’t get lost,” he said.

  To her embarrassment, Natalya realized she was slightly breathless. “Right.”

  Again, Colin turned back to his computer. “See you later.”

  I sincerely hope so.

  Natalya wished she were cool enough to say something like that. Instead, she stepped backward, then turned and walked out the door, pulling it closed behind her.

  COLIN’S MAP WAS FLAWLESS: Natalya made her way back downstairs and through the gigantic kitchen with the wall of glass doors leading out to a garden where a small pond shimmered in the light of another gas lamp. The house was more crowded than it had been when she went upstairs. She headed back up the main stairs but turned at a landing half a flight up.

  This room was not quite as big as the living room, but it was still pretty big. The dark green walls were lined with hundreds and hundreds, maybe thousands of books.

  Jane was sitting at the end of a small, dark green love seat. Across from her, on another love seat, sat Victoria. On a third love seat sat Morgan, Katrina, and Sloane.

  As Natalya entered the room, Morgan looked up and beckoned her over eagerly. “We were just talking about you. Victoria says you guys aren’t going to the costume gala at the Metropolitan Museum!”

  “Um,” Natalya began. She looked at Victoria. Costume gala? Museum?

  Victoria laughed and shrugged at Natalya’s unasked question. “I didn’t even know about it.”

  “Me either,” Natalya admitted. Hearing Victoria laugh, Natalya felt a sense of relief so great she could have cried. It was okay. Everything was okay.

  Just to be sure, she sat down on the sofa next to Victoria and whispered into Victoria’s ear. “Are you having fun? Really?”

  Victoria gave Natalya a puzzled look as Jane asked Natalya from across the space between them, “Where were you?” Her voice sounded ever so slightly accusatory, though maybe Natalya was imagining it.

  Natalya turned. She wished she could tell her friends about Colin, but there was no way to do that in front of everyone. “I got a little lost.”

  “Hel-lo!” Morgan sang toward the sofa Natalya and Victoria were sitting on. “What are we wearing to the gala? You are totally coming as my guests.” Still amazed at how unnecessary all of her worries had turned out to be, Natalya finally let herself relax against the back of the couch.

  “I still say we should go as movie stars,” said Sloane.

  “Dibs on Audrey Hepburn,” said Jane, leaning forward. “From Breakfast at Tiffany’s.”

  “Oh my god, I love that movie,” said Katrina.

  “Jane’s made us watch it about ten million times,” said Natalya, laughing. Her cheeks felt flushed.

  “I didn’t make you watch it,” Jane corrected.

  A tall guy appeared in the archway of the room and looked around. He was chubby, with short black hair, and he was wearing a black T-shirt and the same khaki pants as all the other boys at the party.

  “Hey, George!” Morgan waved and beckoned for him to come over.

  “Where’s Grant?” Katrina called. Then she giggled and buried her face in her hands.

  Morgan pushed at Katrina’s shoulder. “You have got to stop.” Katrina just giggled harder, and Morgan rolled her eyes at Natalya. For the first time, Natalya felt as though it was okay for her to roll her eyes back at Morgan; they grinned at each other.

  George came over, and Morgan gestured around the circle. “George, this is Natalya Petrova. She goes to Gainsford with me.”

  “Hi, George,” said Natalya.

  “Hey, Natalya,” he said back.

  “And this is Victoria Harrison, and this is Jane…”

  “Jane Sterling,” supplied Jane.

  George gave a little wave, then sat on the love seat next to Jane.

  “Where’s Grant?” asked Katrina again.

  “He’s getting the booze,” said George, shaking his head at Katrina. At the word booze, a small flicker of anxiety crossed Victoria’s face. Natalya squeezed her hand. Maybe Grant was hours away. Maybe he’d get caught trying to buy alcohol with a fake ID, and he and the booze would never arrive.

  “It’s not like asking me a million times is going to make him get here any faster,” George added. He looked at Natalya. “Petrova. Are you Russian?”

  Natalya nodded. “I’m sooo Russian.”

  “Oh my god!” Morgan squealed. “George is Russian too.” Morgan pointed one index finger at Natalya and the other at George. “Quick, say something in Russian to each other.”

  “Privet. Kak dela?” Now that she knew he was Russian, Natalya was surprised she hadn’t been abl
e to tell right away. With his high cheekbones and round face, George looked a little like the boys in her neighborhood.

  “Horosho,” replied George.

  “That sounded so cool,” observed Sloane, shaking her head in amazement.

  “Guys,” George said, laughing, “we just said hello to each other. It’s not that big a deal.”

  Natalya laughed also. At home, everyone spoke Russian—and usually way better than she did. Here her ability to speak it made people think there was something special about her.

  How crazy is my life, she thought, giggling.

  “Where’s Grant?” Katrina repeated.

  Natalya’s phone buzzed in her bag, and she took it out. But the text wasn’t from one of her parents, magically sensing that she was speaking Russian. It was from Jane. R u drunk?

  “George, will you please tell Katrina here that there is nothing sexy about desperation?” Morgan said.

  Why would Jane think that? Natalya looked over at her, a shocked expression on her face. Shaking her head, she mouthed,

  Why?

  A second later, Natalya’s screen read u r acting weird.

  “Katrina, there is nothing sexy about desperation,” George parroted.

  Really? typed Natalya. She raised her eyes to look at Jane, who nodded back at her and mouthed, Really.

  Natalya couldn’t help being annoyed with Jane. Here this night was going perfectly—PERFECTLY—and Jane was criticizing her. No one else seemed to mind how she was acting.

  What was Jane’s problem?

  But it wasn’t like she was going to get into all of that in a text. Instead, Natalya just typed, I m having fun. U?

  Jane shrugged. I m ok.

  “Natalya,” George said. He leaned forward and tapped her knee. “Natalya,” he repeated.

  “What?” She turned her phone to silent and slipped it back into her purse. She didn’t feel like reading any more criticism from Jane right now. “Sorry.”

  He laughed. “I just asked what ‘sooo Russian’ means.”

  Natalya tried to explain. “You don’t live in Brighton Beach by any chance, do you?”