If I’d known you were such a coward, I would have stayed at Princeton.
Pursuing sleep was hopeless.
Emily was right. She was a coward.
But her parents had been so mad. They’d looked at her with such…disappointment. And Natalya and Jane had wanted her to go to the party. And she had hesitated about going.
But that wasn’t the whole story, was it?
Victoria threw her covers and the pillow to the other side of the bed, then sat up and placed her feet firmly on the floor. She wished Jane or Natalya—she wished Jane and Natalya—had slept over and were there to help her with what she was about to do. But of course they weren’t. Apparently that was what happened when you told your friends to get lost. You had to face the music all by yourself.
Sundays, her dad almost always went to give a speech at one church or another, so it didn’t surprise her to see both of her parents wearing dark blue suits, her mother sitting at the table making notes on a printed document.
“I think it just reads better if you do the Medicare stuff before the spending cuts,” her mom was saying. “Just reverse the order.” She raised her eyes and smiled at Victoria. “Morning, sweetheart. You’re up early.”
“Good morning,” said her dad.
Without giving herself time to chicken out, Victoria took the plunge. “Nobody made me go to that party. I wanted to go. I know you don’t believe me about not drinking, but it’s the truth. I did lie about the party, but I left when the alcohol arrived.”
Her father leaned back in his chair, and her mother put the speech down in front of her very precisely, as if a great deal depended on the corners of the pages lining up. The only sound in the room was the click of the refrigerator cycling off.
Finally her dad said, “Well, I’m glad you weren’t drinking, but I am extremely sorry to hear that you lied to us, both about the party and about your responsibility for going. I would have expected more from you. I’m disappointed.” He lifted his cup and sipped at his coffee.
“Why didn’t you just ask us?” Her mother was clearly angry, but she also seemed a little bewildered. “We might very well have said yes.”
Victoria thought she might explode when her mom said that. “Are you kidding?” In her outrage she stomped her foot on the tile floor, not even caring how babyish a gesture of frustration it was. “You would never have said yes. Okay, maybe you would have, but then you would have just let Sat—Steven overrule you.”
“Now, Victoria, that isn’t fair.…” her father started. Annoyed, he put his mug down hard enough that some coffee slopped over the side.
But Victoria was mad too. “No, Dad, what isn’t fair is that you never thought this running for senator thing through. That’s what isn’t fair. It’s all a big…game or something.” She took a step toward the table. “‘Let’s make a statement! We need to fight the good fight! I want to make sure these issues get the attention they deserve.’” As she spoke, she waved her arms in the air in an imitation of her father’s early enthusiasm for his run. “You never thought about what might happen if you actually won. You never considered what it would mean for your family if we were suddenly put under a microscope.”
“Victoria, I—”
But she cut him off. “What I did was wrong, Dad. I know that, and I’m sorry. But because you made the decision to run for national office—” She considered what she’d just said, then rephrased it. “No, actually you never made the decision to run for national office. So let’s put it this way: Because you’re suddenly a political rock star, I’m totally exposed.” She saw before her the cover of the Mirror, imagined the voice mail message from Jack that was waiting for her, heard the fight she’d had with Natalya and Jane. Then she took a deep breath, fighting back tears. “I’m not saying this is your fault, okay? I said I’d take responsibility for my actions and I meant it. But if I were just some random teenage girl who’d worn a stupid T-shirt during Safe Sex Week or who’d gone to a party with a bunch of rich kids, I wouldn’t have been on the cover of a New York City newspaper.”
“But you’re such a good girl, Victoria!” her father cried, placing his hands on the table. “That’s what I don’t understand. How could such a good girl do these things?’
Victoria opened her mouth to answer, but before she could speak, she heard a voice saying, “Oh, please, Dad. No one could possibly be as good as Victoria seemed.”
Victoria, her mother, and her father turned to look at Emily, who was standing in the doorway of the kitchen, wearing a pair of plaid boxers and a tank top. She walked over to the coffee maker and poured herself a cup.
“Emily,” said their mom, “I appreciate your trying to defend your sister, but this really doesn’t concern you.”
“Sure it does, Mom.” Calmly, Emily crossed to the refrigerator and added some milk to her coffee, then went over to a drawer and took out a spoon. As she twirled it through her coffee, she explained. “There’s a really good chance that Dad is going to win a major election in eight days. And if he does, Victoria and I are going to have to spend at least the next six years watching everything we do and say in public. And sometimes we’re going to screw up. God knows I’ve done it before, and my guess is I’ll do it again. I see this as a trial run, which means I have more than a passing interest in how you handle Victoria’s little…malfeasance.” Emily put her cup down on the counter, then hopped up to sit next to it, and calmly took a sip. “Well?” she said finally. “I…” their mother began. But she didn’t finish her sentence.
“I thought so,” said Emily. Calmly, she turned to her father. “Dad?”
“We’ll…” The corners of his mouth flirted with a smile. He glanced at his wife.
“We’ll have to get back to you on that,” their mother said firmly.
Emily raised her eyebrows. “Why am I so not surprised?”
“Don’t push it, young lady,” their dad warned, raising his eyebrows back at her. “You’re not the only debater in this family.”
Emily shrugged, then dropped lightly off the counter and picked up her mug. “No,” she acknowledged. “But I am the best.” And with that, she walked out of the kitchen and down the hall to her room.
All her life, Victoria had been jealous of Emily, how articulate she was, how determined, how fearless. Suddenly, for the first time, she realized one more thing about her sister.
She was on Victoria’s team.
Amazed and thrilled by that fact, Victoria waved briefly to her parents and walked out of the room.
Why had she bought a black phone? Black equaled bad news. Black meant funerals. Black was voice mail messages in which boys broke up with you, and friends who didn’t pick up when you called.
Next time, she was buying a pink phone.
Hands shaking, Victoria dialed Natalya’s number. How many times had she heard Natalya’s outgoing message? She could have recited it as it played. “You’ve reached Natalya. I can’t come to the phone. Please leave me a message.” Beep.
“Um, hi. Nat. It’s me. It’s Victoria.” She took a deep breath. This was a million times harder than talking to her parents. “Please don’t be mad, Nat. Please. I’m so sorry. Really. I just—” Beep.
It was over. It was over and she hadn’t even gotten to explain. Should she call back? But how could she possibly tell Natalya everything in thirty-second increments? It would take a dozen phone calls. Twice that. Instead, she dialed Jane’s number. “This is Jane, and I sincerely hope you know what to do.” Before the beep, Victoria heard herself and Natalya laughing in the background. She remembered how they’d stood with Jane in the store the day she’d bought her phone, how they’d cracked up listening to her recite the suggestive outgoing message.
“Jane, it’s me. I’m really, really sorry. Please call me, okay? I feel so bad.” She hung up, scared she might start bawling right then.
There was one last thing she had to do. Calling her voice mail, she discovered she had not one missed call, but half
a dozen. The first four were from Jane and Natalya. Victoria didn’t know if she wanted to laugh or cry as she listened to them begging, threatening, demanding that she call them back. The last message they’d left was from Saturday morning. Saturday. And now it was Sunday. How had so much happened in just twenty-four hours?
And then she heard Jack’s voice.
His tone was cold. “Hello, this is Jack. Would you call me? I just saw the paper and…we should definitely talk.”
She swallowed hard. We should definitely talk.
That was never a good sentence to hear.
Before she could really process the implications of Jack’s leaving her a message like that, the next message started to play.
“Hey,” it began, and Victoria’s heart pounded as she realized this was Jack calling, too. “Sorry, I just left you a really weird message.” There was a pause. “Um, honestly, I guess I was a little freaked out, but I meant to ask if you’re okay. So, this is me calling to see if you’re okay. Also to tell you that I’m pretty sure in some cultures if you’re on the cover of a newspaper with someone, you’re technically married to that person. So, you know, yeah, I think I should probably walk you to school on Monday. Call me if you object. Or you know, just call me because you miss me. Um, yeah. That’s about all I have to say. Except to point out that this picture is kind of out of focus. Which is, you know, just another reason that nobody with half a brain reads the Mirror. Nor does anybody with a full brain, for that matter. So. Yeah. My point is that their circulation is basically zero. I guess I’m rambling. Is this ever going to cut me off? Is it even still recording for that matter? Okay, I’m going now. Call me.”
Oh my god. Oh my god. OH MY GOD!
Jack wasn’t saying he never wanted to see her again. Jack was walking her to school on Monday. Jack was—
Beep. Beep.
Victoria looked at the screen. It was Natalya, calling her back. Heart in her throat, she took the call.
“Nat, I’m sorry!” she began before Natalya could say anything. “I’m such a bad friend.”
As soon as the words were out of Victoria’s mouth, Natalya started talking, speaking so fast, Victoria couldn’t quite understand what she was saying. “Vicks, Morgan only invited me to that party because she knew we were friends. I should have told you. I wanted to tell you. But I was so scared that you wouldn’t want to go.”
It took her a minute to process what Natalya was telling her, and when she did, Victoria realized something.
She wasn’t surprised.
In fact, she’d known it all along.
Natalya had been her best friend since preschool. There was no one Victoria loved more than her. But Morgan and her friends—they were more like college girls than high school girls. What did Natalya really have in common with them?
And when Victoria had gotten to the party, everyone had been so nice to her—hadn’t she even thought at the time that it had almost been like they were expecting her?
Well, they had been.
“Vicks, are you there?” Natalya’s voice was frantic. “Vicks, I’m so sorry. Please don’t hate me. I don’t blame you for hating me.”
“I’m not mad,” Victoria said. And she meant it. Natalya wasn’t some girl trying to befriend Victoria because of her dad’s fame. Natalya was Natalya. And how could she be mad at Natalya for not knowing how to handle something she herself had no idea how to handle? “Really. I’m not mad,” she repeated.
“What?” Natalya sounded shocked. “Of course you’re mad. I’d be furious.”
Victoria laughed. “Do you want me to be mad at you?”
“No!” Natalya said quickly. “Vicks, I’m so sorry I did that. I love you so much. I never meant for you to get in trouble.”
“I know,” Victoria assured her. “It’s not your fault. I screwed up.”
“I screwed up,” Natalya corrected her.
“Can you come over?” Victoria was desperate to see her friends. “I just called Jane, but she didn’t pick up.”
Victoria heard Natalya take a deep breath. “Vicks, Jane and I had a really big fight yesterday.”
Her stomach dropped. “A fight? About what?”
Natalya told her what had happened at Ga Ga Noodle. When she got to the part about storming out, Victoria gasped. Natalya had just…left? How was that possible? “And you didn’t talk after that?” she asked.
Natalya’s silence answered her question.
The thought of Natalya and Jane fighting made Victoria’s chest tighten. At least when she was involved, there was something she could do. In the face of their being mad at each other, she felt totally hopeless. “Look, just…come over and we’ll try and reach her, okay? This is insane.”
“Vicks? I’m scared.…” Natalya’s voice was quiet.
“Me too,” admitted Victoria. Those things Jane and Natalya had said to each other, they sounded bad. Really bad.
“I’ll be there as fast as I can,” Natalya promised, and she hung up.
Victoria sat down on the floor, her back against her bed, her phone in her lap.
There was nothing to do now but wait.
MONDAY MORNING, all through English class, Natalya watched Morgan. It was impossible not to be impressed by how elegant she was, how poised, how confident.
Natalya remembered for the millionth time how Colin had walked away from her at the Met. She could have chased after him and apologized. Instead she’d gone back to Morgan and Sloane and Katrina and spent the rest of her night pretending to have a great time. She’d spoken Russian when Morgan asked her to; she’d danced wildly to “Mamma Mia”; she’d accepted the glass of champagne George brought her. In the ladies’ room with Morgan, she’d said she was totally bummed that George hadn’t made a move on her, even though she was relieved.
She’d been wearing a costume. An amazing costume. Only it wasn’t a sexy scientist costume. It wasn’t even a Dr. Clover costume.
It was a Natalya Petrova costume. Natalya Petrova the good-time popular girl with a crush on George and a taste for sparkling wine. And for being sparkly. Picturing how she’d behaved Saturday night made Natalya cringe, and she heard once more the accusation Jane had hurled at her when they were at Ga Ga Noodle.
Like I’d ever be jealous of you. Like there even is a you. You’re so busy being someone else that there isn’t even anyone to be jealous of.
Her phone buzzed and she slipped her hand down and checked the screen. It was a text from Victoria.
Have u heard from j?
No, she typed back.
They’d called and texted Jane all day yesterday. They’d even gone to her apartment, but when the doorman rang the buzzer, nobody answered, and after almost an hour they finally left.
Jane really didn’t want to deal with them.
Victoria’s reply came immediately after Natalya hit send. We r going anyway. We r not missing opening night!!
Natalya typed the letter K, then dropped her phone back into her bag just as the bell rang and Ms. MacFadden said, “Well, I think we can leave it at that.” She smiled around the room. “Read the next scene for tomorrow, and don’t forget, your paraphrases are due Wednesday.”
Natalya was too embarrassed to focus on what Ms. MacFadden was saying. Jane was right. She had been busy being someone else. Someone sparkly! Someone giggly!
Well, she’d been so sparkly and giggly that now one of her best friends wasn’t speaking to her.
Slowly she put Othello and her notebook into her bag and made her way to the door, walking out side by side with Morgan, who put her hand on Natalya’s elbow as they started down the hallway.
“So,” Morgan began, “I cannot figure out George’s deal. We may have to go to plan B.” Morgan’s phone buzzed and she glanced at the screen, then scowled and put it back in her bag. “Katrina’s got a stomach thing and she’s apparently throwing her brains up or something.” She shrugged. “I completely cannot deal with her right now.”
Natalya took a de
ep breath and stopped walking. It was now or never. “I have to tell you something.”
Morgan stopped walking, too. “What’s up? You’re being so serious.”
For a long minute Natalya just thought about all the things she had to tell Morgan, all the ways in which she’d lied to or misled her so Morgan would think she was cool. She didn’t like George. She did like Colin. She didn’t drink. She wasn’t even remotely considering becoming a vegetarian.
Natalya took a deep breath. “I think Dr. Clover is a really great teacher.”
“What?” Morgan looked simultaneously shocked and bored.
Natalya didn’t smile. “I think Dr. Clover is a really great teacher,” she repeated. “I like her class.”
“Ooookay,” said Morgan slowly. “And you’re telling me this because…”
And suddenly, maybe because of how nervous she was or because of how stupid the announcement sounded now that she’d made it, Natalya started to laugh. It began as a giggle, but soon she was bent over at the waist, hand covering her mouth, unable to catch her breath.
“Is this some kind of joke?” Morgan asked.
Natalya couldn’t answer. She just waved her hands, trying to show the impossibility of speech.
“Are you okay?” demanded Morgan finally. “You’re acting really weird.”
The question and the statement that followed it echoed what Jane had said to her at Morgan’s party, and the thought of Jane immediately sobered Natalya. “Sorry,” she choked out, standing up.
Morgan shrugged. “Whatever.” She turned and headed in the direction of the library. “Are you coming to eat?”
Natalya hesitated. She didn’t want to eat lunch with Morgan. She wanted to find Jordan and talk to her. But could she say that? Could she tell Morgan she didn’t want to eat with her today and still be able to eat with her tomorrow?
Looking back over their relationship, Natalya remembered all the times she’d told herself she shouldn’t have to choose. Well, maybe she’d been right. Maybe she’d never had to make a choice at all. Maybe life could be Morgan and, not Morgan or.
The Darlings Are Forever Page 23
