Screen Queens

by Lori Goldstein

  Delia looked to Maddie for direction.

  Maddie stepped deeper into the room. “Lucy, we don’t have to do this today.”

  “Of course we do.” She whipped out a lavender-scented sanitizer wipe and began scrubbing the table. “Now that we’ve got an edge, we have to build on it. Momentum is everything in diets, darts, and tech.” She pulled in her lower lip. “Still working on that one. But you get the idea.”

  Lucy’s effervescence filled the air around them, and Maddie wasn’t eager to be the one to start popping bubbles, but Lucy was right about momentum. The more time that passed, the harder it would be for Lucy to come forward. Not just because outsiders might question why she waited so long, but because Maddie knew Lucy. The Lucy who planned and prioritized and pushed anything that didn’t fit in her notebook out of her head. And Maddie was certain this was something Lucy wanted not just out but erased from existence.

  “Lucy,” Maddie started.

  “In, in.” Lucy waved her hand. “Sit, let me just grab my notebook.”

  “Lucy, wait,” Maddie said again. “Let’s talk.”

  “We are, and we will, believe me.” She dug through her tote bag. “I emailed you both the agenda. Six pages. Single-spaced.” A packet of sanitizer wipes flew to the ground, followed by a makeup case, three bottles of nail polish, a scarf, and a phone charger. “Oh, come on, it’s not like it’s invisible!”

  Maddie widened her eyes at Delia and whispered, “Say something.”

  “Like what?” Delia said. “If she wants to work, let’s work.”

  Delia tugged at her sleep tee and settled into the armchair across from the screen.

  Lucy’s head was still in her bag. Maddie walked to her and put a hand on her forearm. Lucy stiffened, and Maddie removed it.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “But the presentation isn’t important right now.” Maddie tried to get Lucy to look at her. “Have you seen your Pulse today? It’s not . . . great. But I’m pretty certain he’s retaliating through it.” Lucy still refused to meet Maddie’s eyes, but Maddie continued. “I think Ryan’s personally manipulating Pulse accounts for his own purposes.”

  “Well, of course he is,” Lucy snapped. “How do you think I got to Crushing It so fast?”

  “Wait, what?” Delia said.

  “And Emma . . .” Maddie said.

  “Sure, I’m sure. I mean, you should have seen them in the club.” Lucy shuddered and tossed her bag to the floor, giving up the search for her notebook. “But I did. I saw them. How could I be so stupid?”

  “You’re not,” Maddie said.

  “I had drinks with him.”

  “So?”

  “I smiled and laughed. I flirted.”

  “And?”

  “I led him on. I—”

  “Did nothing to invite him to put his hands on you—and not remove them when you said to.”

  Lucy’s eyes were fixed straight ahead, and Maddie began to rethink her decision to approach Lucy so soon.

  Eventually Lucy gave a derisive laugh. “A million. He actually offered a million dollars.” She gave a weak smile. “Flattering, right?”

  “No,” Maddie said. “It’s sick. He’s sick. He’s thirtysomething going on eight. This is all . . .” She drew in a breath. “Listen, when the beta test was such a success, even I wanted this. To win. But now to win what? A Pulse internship? Do any of us even want that anymore?”

  Delia leaned over the back of her chair. “But Pulse isn’t the same as Ryan, is it?”

  “Maybe not,” Maddie said, unconvinced. “But remember the lecture? The leader sets the tone. And if this is Pulse’s tone . . .” Maddie paused, knowing she wasn’t like her teammates. They wanted to win more than she did, they always had. And Lucy . . . who knew how long she’d had Ryan up on that pedestal. Her idol, all she aspired to be. To have him not just tumble but tumble like this, with what he tried to do—was doing—must have been making her question everything.

  Maddie understood the feeling, even though she’d never shared it. “He can’t get away with it,” she blurted out. “We can’t keep letting guys get away with this crap.”

  Delia pushed herself out of the chair. “Maddie . . . did something—”

  “Not like this,” Maddie said, “Nothing like this. But manipulated, used? By a guy I thought I could trust?” And now that she’d started, Maddie was gripped by the need to share the feelings she’d kept bottled up for months. “You know what sucks the most? I’d gotten to a good place, not going to college, staying home, staying with my brother.” Her hand rose to her four-leaf clover. “I had my business. I’d worked hard for it. Landing a big client and my first five-digit paycheck was less about the money and more about proving I could do it.” Tears pricked her eyes, and she fought to hold them back—instinctually at first and then, then because he wasn’t worth it. “He stole it from me. And I didn’t say anything. I should have.” She stood in front of Lucy. “Ryan Thompson’s a bully, a dangerous one. Nice hair and cute smile and a bank account the size of Maine, but he’s a bully all the same. It’s your decision, but I want you to know I’ll support you no matter what. If you’re in, I’m in.”

  Lucy was gnawing on her bottom lip like it was a chew toy. But quietly and carefully, she said, “I’m in.” The two of them gravitated toward each other. They turned at the same time . . . to Delia.

  TWENTY–ONE

  MAJORITY • The percentage of shareholders that must approve significant company decisions; usually greater than fifty percent

  THE AIR SMELLED DIFFERENT here. Not here in the common room but here at Mountain View U. Not exactly cleaner, not exactly what she’d had to learn was marijuana, just different. Maybe it had to do with the persistent sunshine or the sprays of wildflowers or maybe . . . maybe the way Delia breathed here was what was different.

  She missed it already. They had two weeks of the program left, and she missed it already. Maybe if she didn’t, this wouldn’t be so hard. Because Delia believed that Ryan should be reported, that he couldn’t be allowed to do what he’d done to Emma and Lucy, that no girl should ever be in the position Lucy was in last night.

  Delia’s stomach twisted when she imagined what could have happened, what she’d have done if it were her in that passenger seat.

  Which was why she was awash in shame at the other thought she was having—that she wished this hadn’t happened to a member of her team, her friend, because of what it meant for her.

  For the first time in her life, Delia understood the desire to be selfish. She was so close. Not to winning, though that too. But to feeling like there was a place for her, this place, this place she didn’t know how much she wanted to be in until she was actually here. To feeling like what she thought and did and had—knowledge, abilities, talent—were respected, maybe even admired. A feeling she’d seen exhibited on her mother’s face her whole life. A feeling she was ashamed to want to keep.

  “Delia?” Lucy said. “We don’t have to. We can keep going—”

  “No, not for me. That’s not a good enough reason.”

  “Yes, it is. To me, it is.” That Lucy’s voice was softer than usual didn’t mean it lacked strength. She was resolute when she said, “Being here was a given for me. For the prestige, the connections . . . Résumé building’s kind of my thing. I didn’t actually expect to learn anything, and I certainly never expected to learn what I have so far. Including what happened last night—”

  “But Ryan, how could you—”

  “No, not Ryan,” Lucy said, her voice full of venom. “This isn’t his to own.” She unclenched her jaw and let her eyes travel from Delia to Maddie. “See . . .” Lucy paused to gather her thoughts. “I’ve always been surrounded by friends, but I’ve never actually had them before.”

  Delia felt a twinge in her chest at Lucy’s words. She’d have never survived without Ca
ssie.

  Lucy focused on Delia as she continued. “I didn’t realize what that meant until last night. And that when I said majority rules at the hackathon I was wrong. Because that’s not how friends treat one another. If you don’t want us to do this, we won’t. No questions asked.”

  “You’d do that for me?” Delia said.

  “I’d do that for us. Because if we do this, you don’t have to be psychic to know our odds of winning ValleyStart will be as Comatose as I am.”

  “And me,” Maddie said.

  Delia twirled a lock of hair around her finger, picturing herself telling her parents she’d won, that she was going to work for Pulse, that they didn’t need to let the theater become a multiplex and go buy a Winnebago. And then she pictured telling them why. Because she hadn’t acted like the person they’d raised her to be.

  “I—I don’t care,” Delia said. “Well, no, I do. This place . . . I wanted this. But I can live with being wronged for doing what’s right.” She already had. Before Lucy could finish her “thank you,” Delia found herself saying, “You know the town fair I said I worked at?”

  Lucy nodded. “Frying cornholes.”

  “Dogs.”

  “You fried dogs? Is that, like, legal in Indiana?”

  “Illinois. And no.”

  “Delia,” Maddie interrupted, shooting Lucy a look. “You were saying . . .”

  Delia hesitated—she’d never told anyone, not even Cassie. “I worked the Ferris wheel. I took tickets and made sure the safety bar was latched. And, yes, Lucy, it was as boring as it sounds.” She sighed. “It had this rickety old computer board running the mechanics, and one day, the ride just stopped with a full load of people on it. My manager tried to fix it himself, but the longer he took, the more everyone in the cars started to panic. I’d let Cassie’s little sister ride alone—I shouldn’t have, but I did. She was at the top, and I could pick her cries out of all the rest. I was as scared as she was. I thought I knew how to fix it, so I went to my manager, and he—”

  “Wouldn’t listen?” Maddie said.

  “Wouldn’t even let me speak. I was so nervous, I just went back to where I was supposed to be, taking tickets I couldn’t take because the ride was stuck. All the while Cassie’s sister was screaming for me. I couldn’t let her stay up there. So I tried again, and again he waved me away.” Delia started rubbing her hands together, the feeling of helplessness rising to the surface just like it had that day. “Eventually I couldn’t take it anymore and pushed everyone aside and fixed it. Cassie’s sister was safe. She was latched on to me when my manager walked over like I’d been the one to break the ride to begin with. He acted like this was a training exercise—like he was giving me a chance to prove myself and he was just about to step in.”

  “Wild guess?” Maddie said. “Never covered in training?”

  “Not once. The next day I was frying cornholes. Dogs.”

  “Ass,” Maddie hissed.

  “Him or me? Because what if it happened again? I should have told someone. Instead I pretended like I loved the smell of deep fry in my hair every night.” Delia picked up a Hot Pocket. “But, hey, it qualified me for this, so good for my own résumé building, I guess.”

  Silence enveloped the room, and they all stared at the Lit logo on the screen. They’d built something out of nothing. Something amazing. And they’d done it together.

  Which was how they’d do this too.

  “I’m in.” Delia looked down. “Right after I put on some pants.”

  TWENTY–TWO

  GETTING SWALLOWED BY A WHALE • When a smaller company or startup is put out of business by a larger one that gets to market first with a similar idea

  ON THE WALK ACROSS the quad, Lucy had the unexpected urge to call her mom.

  Lucy was an only child, raised by her single mother and a host of nannies. She was a surprise—what she always imagined was an unpleasant one—to her career-minded mother and the product of a business arrangement even as a fetus. Her father sent cards and stock options on her birthday and for each night of Hanukkah, and in exchange, she posed for photos with him to “humanize” him in the Wall Street Journal. She saw him once a year, and in truth, that was enough for Lucy. They had a cordial relationship but not a warm one. Not that her relationship with her mom was particularly warm either, but that had always been fine with Lucy.

  She appreciated her mom treating her like an adult from the time she was two and would take that over home-baked cookies any day (and her trim waistline thanked her for it). Her mom pushed for long enough that when she stopped, Lucy pulled, the desire to excel infused into her thanks to nature and nurture.

  And Lucy did. She excelled in school and tennis and marathons and did it all while living too, having fun, something her mom had long ago forgone. Serious was one thing, dull was another. Strategize, stylize, socialize. It was all three that led to corner offices.

  Which Lucy had had her eye on since she could say the words “Silicon Valley.” Which was why she’d interned at a startup in San Francisco the summer before sophomore year in high school. Which was why she’d worried she was already behind when she found a sixth grader there “shadowing” the CEO.

  One night, she’d hopped on an earlier Caltrain home because her dad was visiting. She opened the door to their faux Spanish-style McMansion and heard the ice—one cube, only ever one—tink in her mom’s tumbler before she heard her say, “She’ll never be me.”

  The chill she thought she’d left behind with the San Francisco fog iced her to the bone. They were never the “popcorn and rom-com and cucumber facial” mother-daughter-bonding-night type (her mom would have to have been home before bedtime for that). But Lucy thought she was following in her footsteps. Sure, maybe she wasn’t the techie her mom had been, but Lucy surpassed her mom in people skills and likability and, well, having a life. Which Lucy was determined to do even harder from that moment on.

  And then Stanford and freaking Gavin Cox. And now Ryan Thompson.

  Her mother was right about Lucy not being her. Lucy had never wanted to be.

  Until now.

  Lucy decided not to call her mom. She had Maddie and Delia. She had her friends.

  * * *

  * * *

  They sat in a row of three on the couch in the living room attached to the Head of House’s apartment.

  A white guy barely in his twenties, the Head of House had on the Silicon Valley uniform of expensive sneakers, logo tee, and hoodie. He spent the first ten minutes talking about his days at ValleyStart only a couple of years ago. He’d won with an app that counted the number of trees in acres of forest land that he subsequently sold “in the upper two commas” to some Wall Street timber fund. Silicon Valley, the place that made you a millionaire for doing what any preschooler could do. Lucy couldn’t help picturing the logo Maddie would design: a toddler counting on fingers and toes.

  Though Lucy felt naked without her notebook in her hands, the image helped to relax her nerves and infuse a calm in her voice when Tim Corrio, the Head of House, finally got around to asking why they were there.

  Lucy cleared her throat. “It has to do with Ryan Thompson.”

  “My man!” Tim clapped his hands. “Did you know the Rye-man and I—”

  “No, just no,” Maddie said.

  Lucy widened her eyes, but Maddie simply said, “Go ahead, Lucy.”

  Grateful to have gone through the events multiple times with Maddie and Delia, the only part of Lucy shaking were her hands, which she easily slid under her thighs. Though her pulse was quick, her words remained level as she began. “Last night, I left campus and went to San Francisco to have a business dinner with Ryan—”

  “That’s it!” Tim jabbed his finger at Lucy. “San Fran! The club! I remember you from the club.” He raised his arms over his head and grooved to his own “untz, untz, untz.”
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  “Uh, okay,” Lucy said.

  “You and my bud, Marc, were tearing it up on the floor.”

  Lucy pressed her thighs harder into her hands. “Sure, right.”

  “Marc with a c?” He raised his eyebrows expectantly before waving his hand. “Ah, forget it. You were trying so many on for size, how could you remember? No worries, I won’t tell him. No need to crush my boy’s feelings.”

  “Okay, yeah, thanks.” She cleared her throat again. “But like I was saying, last night, I—”

  “And that was you heading into the office with Ryan during our shotgunning tourney, right?”

  “Yes, that was my mentor session.”

  “Man, he’s your mentor? What I wouldn’t have given to have had him as my mentor when I was here.” He smirked and flung the hood over his head. “Oh, wait, probably did okay without it.” He mouthed “two commas” and held up his index and middle fingers.

  Maddie groaned, and Delia, surprisingly, did too.

  “Yes,” Lucy said. “Ryan’s my mentor, which is why—”

  But Tim’s head was in his phone, his finger swiping up and down. “Comatose? For the love of LaCroix, you’re Comatose? I’m surprised you were even let into ValleyStart. When I was applying—”

  “Counting was revolutionary?” Maddie said.

  Lucy nudged Maddie’s shin and sat up straighter, retaking control. “But that’s part of this. I wasn’t always.”

  Delia spoke for the first time. “Lucy, why don’t you tell him about Emma.”

  “Oh, r-i-i-i-ght,” Tim said. “Emma Santos. Now this is starting to make sense.” Tim held up his phone, showing a picture of Emma beside Ryan. He then pulled it back and swiped, returning it to the air, this time with the photo of Lucy and Ryan. “Listen, sweetheart . . .”