From Bad to Cursed

by Katie Alender

“Well, if kind of ever turns into kind of not, let me know,” he said. He looked around. “I’d better go make sure my father isn’t telling the story about me riding my tricycle naked to the grocery store.”

  “Aren’t you a little old to be doing that?” I asked.

  Jared smirked. “Funny girl,” he said as he walked away.

  “Dad,” someone said. “She’s right here.”

  Bailey was dragging a man over to me. I recognized his face, but couldn’t place it.

  “He likes your car picture,” she said. “He wants me to take pictures like that of our cars. But that’s not really my style.”

  “Do you work on commission?” The man stuck his hand out, and I shook it. “Stuart Templeton. Nice to meet you.”

  And I realized how it was Bailey could afford a dress with such fabulous buttons. Her dad was a gazillionaire software mogul.

  Which also explained how a close-up of a brick could make it to the final five.

  Don’t mess this up, I told myself. Say something. And then the words were just there.

  “I’d definitely be open to an arrangement,” I said. “Depending on the size of the finished prints and how many you wanted.”

  He nodded and passed me his business card with a friendly smile. “E-mail my office.”

  “We should hang out,” Bailey said to me, fishing the cherry out of her mocktail and sticking it in her mouth. “I’m so bored with the losers at my school.”

  But I’m just like the losers at your school, I wanted to protest.

  But—people change. Maybe that wasn’t the case anymore.

  Bailey and her father wandered away and I was left standing alone, wondering how all of a sudden it had come to pass that I, Alexis Warren, was one of the pretty people.

  Well, I thought. Might as well go work the party.

  FARRIN STOPPED MOM and me on the way out. At her side was a tall woman in a pantsuit. “Alexis, I’ve been trying to catch you between conversations for an hour! I’d like you to meet a friend of mine—Barbara Draeger.”

  The name sounded familiar. “Nice to meet you,” I said.

  Mom’s eyes widened, and she brushed nonexistent dust off her blazer. “Senator Draeger!”

  Oh, right. That Barbara Draeger.

  Mom shook the woman’s hand like it was a water pump. She feels about female senators the way some preteen girls feel about boy bands. “What an honor!”

  “Alexis, I really enjoyed looking at your pictures,” the senator said. “You’re very talented.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Did you know that the top-ranked university photography curriculum in America is in California?”

  “No,” I said. “I didn’t.”

  “The Skalaski School of Photography at Weatherly College,” Farrin said.

  The senator gave Farrin a sparkling smile. “Our alma mater!”

  “Alexis would be a great fit for Weatherly,” Farrin said. “She’s just the type.”

  Senator Draeger was beaming at me so intensely that I couldn’t look away.

  “Can you spare your daughter for one last thing?” Farrin asked. Mom’s enthusiastic nod made her look like a bobble-head doll.

  When we were standing off by ourselves, Farrin smiled warmly at me. “It’s such a pleasure to have you in the competition.”

  Shiny Happy Party Alexis was fading fast, but I dredged up an appropriate “Thank you.”

  “When I said you were welcome to use my darkroom, I really meant it.”

  “I appreciate that,” I said. “I’m not sure if it’s a realistic option for me, but it’s such a generous offer.”

  She frowned. “Not realistic?”

  “I don’t have a car,” I said. “And I live twenty miles away.”

  “Oh. Can’t you borrow your mother’s car?”

  “After she’s home from work. But…that would have to be at night.”

  That didn’t faze her in the least. “I can be here at night, if necessary.”

  “Wow,” I said. “That’s so generous, but…no, I really couldn’t ask you to do that.”

  “Alexis,” she said, her hands on my shoulders. “Anything for one of Aralt’s girls.”

  It took every single bit of control I had not to stumble backward.

  That’s when I saw, on the fourth finger of her right hand, a thin gold ring, covered in a lacy patina of scratches.

  She squeezed my hands. “Go on. Your mother’s waiting.”

  I nodded and turned around, running directly into Senator Draeger, who gave me a vigorous farewell handshake. I glanced at her right hand.

  Another gold ring.

  The night of the interview, Farrin wasn’t looking at my bone structure. She was looking at my ring.

  I hardly noticed the walk to the car. I don’t even remember opening the door or sitting down or fastening my seat belt. I only snapped out of it when Mom started rejoicing over the night’s events.

  “What a night!” she said, pulling the car out onto the road.

  “Um, yeah,” I said.

  “A Pulitzer prize–winning photographer?” Mom said. “A United States senator? And all you can say is ‘Um, yeah’?”

  I decided not to mention Stuart Templeton. She might actually lose control of the car.

  “That woman, Farrin McAllister, said you’re talented.” She sighed happily. “And Senator Draeger said Weatherly is very generous with merit-based scholarships! If she wrote you a recommendation letter—just think . . .”

  Merit-based—or gold-ring-based?

  “Weatherly is a small school, but it’s very highly regarded. It’s practically Ivy League. Honey, this could be huge for you. Are you worried that you can’t get in? Because—”

  “No, I’m really not worried,” I said. My sparkling facade had melted like a chocolate off a peanut in a hot car. I didn’t want to talk about Farrin or Senator Draeger or Weatherly College. I wanted a ham sandwich, my pajamas, and my bed, in that order. “I’m exhausted. Can we talk about it later?”

  She nodded, not taking her eyes off the road. I leaned my forehead against the cool glass and stared at the lights flashing by. My body was tired, but my brain was going a mile a minute.

  If Farrin and Senator Draeger knew Aralt, that meant…the oath didn’t kill you. Not for a couple of decades, at least. They were both at least fifty, and neither of them seemed to be worried about dropping dead.

  And not only did taking the oath not kill you, but there was a really, really good chance that it made your life totally wonderful.

  I might book a photography job from one of the richest men in the world. If he liked the pictures I took of his cars, who’s to say he wouldn’t let me shoot an ad campaign for his company? In his company’s TV commercials he claimed to be big on innovation and young talent. If I said precisely the right thing and dropped precisely the right hints, I could turn this into something huge.

  And then I’d go to Weatherly College, on full scholarship, and study photography with real teachers, people who knew what they were talking about. I’d be surrounded by other people—maybe like Jared—who really understood taking pictures.

  After graduation, who knew? I could travel the world. See every continent. Photograph famous people and places. Meet my photography idols. Win awards. Have shows in New York galleries.

  I could do it. I could do anything.

  I felt a core of strength forming inside me and knew that tapping into it would mean achieving whatever I wanted.

  All thanks to Aralt.

  So…why were we trying to stop him?

  * * *

  Dad and Kasey were watching TV when we got home. Dad paused it and turned to me expectantly.

  Mom took over. “How does it feel to be related to the most fabulous sixteen-year-old in Surrey?” she asked. Then, realizing she should tone it down in the interest of sibling equality, she lowered her voice. “Alexis did very well.”

  “Wonderful, honey!” Dad said, beaming. “Com
e tell us about it.”

  As I rounded the sofa, Kasey jumped up. “I have some homework to do.”

  Mom watched her go, then turned to me with an apologetic frown. “I guess this might be a little hard for her.”

  “Yeah,” I said, staring disapprovingly down the hall. It was totally un-sunshiny to be jealous and petty.

  I tried to perk up and give my parents a good rundown of the night. When I was done, I stifled a huge yawn and excused myself.

  Kasey was in the bathroom brushing her teeth. I waited until she’d rinsed her toothbrush before giving her a nudge.

  “Want to hear about the party?”

  She shrugged.

  The gesture stung more than I would have thought. As she passed me on the way to her bedroom, I spoke to her back—keeping my voice low so our parents wouldn’t hear.

  “Aren’t you happy for me?”

  “Sure, Lexi. Why not,” said Kasey.

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

  She came closer. “But how much of this is really you, and how much of it is Aralt?”

  “Why does that matter?” I asked. “I still made the effort.”

  She gave me a flat frown.

  “You know what? Fine. Don’t be happy for me. But if you don’t mind my saying so, you could stand to be a little sunnier.”

  She rolled her eyes. “And you could stand to be a little less sunny, Lexi.”

  I felt a swell of emotion so powerful that it made me turn away. It was like the moment a thundercloud opens up and soaks anything unlucky enough to be caught under it—only this storm was a hurricane of rage. I stared at the family portrait that hung across from Kasey’s bedroom door, trying to will myself not to turn around.

  Then I surged toward my own room and slammed the door behind me, locking it.

  I believed with all my heart that if I even looked at my sister, I might break her neck.

  “ALEXIS? MEGAN’S ON THE PHONE.” Mom opened my door a crack and peered around. “Goodness, I think this is the messiest your room’s ever been.”

  I scowled. It was Sunday, and I hadn’t so much as tidied up since Monday. The bed was unmade, and a week’s worth of clothing changes were draped on various surfaces, from the desk to the edge of the trash can. Shoes were scattered like abandoned cars after the zombie apocalypse.

  “I’ve been busy,” I said. I grabbed the phone and waved her out.

  “What’s up?” Megan asked. “We’re hanging out at Monika’s today.”

  “Who?”

  “Everybody,” she said. “Can you be ready in ten minutes?”

  “Sure.” After my week, a day of doing nothing sounded wonderful.

  “We’ll park,” she said. “Come out when you’re done.”

  I took a quick shower, braided my wet hair, slapped on some makeup, and slipped on a summery skirt with a sleeveless top and a pair of sandals. I had a vague recollection that Monika had a pool, so I emptied a tote bag on the foot of my bed and stuffed a bathing suit and a towel inside it. At the last second, I grabbed my camera.

  I was about to leave when a splash of color caught my eye.

  I walked to the window and peered through the slats of the wooden blinds.

  Megan’s car was parked across the street, and she and the girls she’d brought with her—Mimi and Emily—were leaning against it, faces to the sky, absorbing the sunshine.

  There was something about them—some unquestioned sense of entitlement, the right to sun oneself wherever one chose. They were like a pack of lions lounging on the Serengeti Plain. These were the girls who would grow up to be senators, or movie stars, or best-selling novelists. They were beautiful and effortlessly powerful.

  And I was one of them.

  When I came outside, Megan tilted her sunglasses down her nose to look at me. “Ready?”

  “Yeah,” I said.

  “Where’s Kasey?” Emily asked.

  “I’m not sure,” I said. “Studying?”

  “Studying?” Emily repeated. “Why? Doesn’t she trust Aralt?”

  “Of course she does,” I said, but even as I said it, I began to wonder if it was true.

  Monika lived in the older section of town—mostly rambling ranch houses on half-acre lots. In the tree-shaded backyard, a pool surrounded by lounge chairs reflected the aqua sky.

  Everyone else scattered to change into their swimsuits, but I stood and let my toes dig into the grass. A shadow fell on the ground beside me.

  “What’s wrong?” Megan asked.

  “I miss having a yard,” I said.

  “You can always come use mine,” Megan said. “You haven’t been over lately.”

  “I know,” I said. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize. We’re all busy.” She sighed. “How’s Carter?”

  “I’m not sure. I haven’t talked to him since Friday.”

  “You need to be careful.” She turned to me. “Lex, if he’s not willing to accept you the way you are, he doesn’t deserve you in the first place.”

  For some reason, that made me think of Jared, who found the idea of Old Alexis and New Alexis interesting, not aggravating.

  “I know he doesn’t like the Sunshine Club,” Megan said quietly. “He doesn’t talk about us with respect.”

  I looked up, surprised at the undercurrent of heat in her voice, like a small, slow-burning flame. “It’s not that,” I said. “I think he’s really stressed out about the election.”

  Her voice was cold. “If he thinks it’s going to be less stressful after he wins, he’s deluded.”

  “Look,” I said. “I’ll deal with it.”

  “This sisterhood isn’t a joke,” she said. “And you shouldn’t let Carter treat us like one.”

  I was frustrated by the onslaught, when she knew I hadn’t even seen him since Friday. “I don’t want to talk about it, okay?”

  Megan looked at me in surprise. She scowled, kicked her shoes off, and plopped to the ground at the edge of the pool, dunking her legs in the water like a debutante who’d wandered away from a fancy party to pout. Schlumpy but regal.

  “Hang on,” I said, reaching into my camera bag.

  “Oh, come on, Lex,” she said. “I’m so not in the mood.”

  “Please?” I said. “I need four new pictures by next week. Can you take off your sunglasses?”

  “Whatever,” she muttered, slipping them off and tossing her hair over her shoulder.

  I clicked off a couple of shots.

  “Chin down a little,” I said.

  Megan shot me a dirty look through the camera.

  “Don’t be mad at me,” I said, and then, almost as a joke: “Aralt wouldn’t want that.”

  Instantly, her expression changed.

  Her eyes went from petulant to misty—her lips relaxed, her cheekbones lifted.

  These pictures were going to be pretty—really pretty. Never mind that I had no idea what to do with a pretty picture. “You look gorgeous,” I said.

  “I know.” Her voice was dreamy.

  We lay around all afternoon like a bunch of Roman empresses, trading magazines and compliments.

  “Alexis, I saw your picture in the newspaper,” Lydia said. “Maybe you should invite Bailey Templeton to a meeting.”

  “She doesn’t need Aralt,” I said. “She has a billion-dollar trust fund.”

  It was like I’d pressed the “awkward silence” button. Scandalized looks greeted me from every angle.

  Aralt was about more than money. I knew that. “If I see her again, I’ll invite her.”

  Later, we went inside to bask in the air-conditioning. Tashi sat on the floor, painting her nails on a giant Oriental rug, not using a paper towel or anything.

  “You think Carter’s going to win tomorrow?” she asked, glancing up at me.

  I shrugged.

  “That would be cool,” Emily said, her eyes dreamy. “It would be great for getting new members.”

  “Does he think he’s going to
win?” Mimi asked.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “He’s kind of doing his own thing this weekend. We haven’t really talked.”

  “Do you think he’s been with Zoe?” Paige asked, sitting up.

  “No,” I said. “He told me there was nothing going on.”

  “And you believe him?” Lydia asked.

  “Yes!” I said, a little too snappily. “A hundred percent.”

  “Then he needs you!” Emily said, her voice soft. “I mean, you’re in love. I’m sure he wants you there.”

  “In love?” Megan repeated. “You’ve never actually said the words, have you?”

  In fact, we hadn’t. And I can’t say I was thrilled with her for announcing it in public like it was some juicy piece of gossip, instead of one of the most intimate and private details of my existence.

  But everyone was watching me, rapt.

  “No,” I said. “Now can we please change the subject?”

  Thankfully, they all got the message and found something else to talk about.

  “Is something wrong with you guys?” Tashi asked.

  She’d spoken so quietly that I was the only one who heard her. She wasn’t even looking at me. She was bent over, blowing on her toenails, which were a perfect sparkly pink.

  From anyone else, I might have resented the question, but there was something about Tashi that was so nonchalant. The way she asked, it was like she didn’t really care if I answered or not.

  “Something,” I said. “I just don’t know what.”

  “People do grow apart, you know.” She gazed out the window. “My boyfriend can be distant sometimes.”

  “I don’t think that’s what’s happening,” I said. “This is more sudden than growing apart. He’s really mad at me, but he won’t listen to my side of the story.”

  She stuck the cap loosely onto the bottle and turned to look at me. “Do you want to save your relationship?”

  “Yeah, of course,” I said. “But…I don’t know. What if Aralt doesn’t want us to have boyfriends?”

  Tashi squinted. “No offense, Alexis, but that’s absurd. Love is a gift…when you find the right person. Aralt wouldn’t deprive anyone of that.”

  “All right,” I said. “Then I guess Carter just hates the way I look now.”

  “Maybe he doesn’t know what to think,” Tashi said.