The Daughters Break the Rules

by Joanna Philbin

  “One little burger isn’t going to break me,” she assured them. “Come on.”

  At the diner, Carina scarfed down her turkey burger, scooping up all the extra cranberry sauce with her sweet potato fries. Everything tasted so good. Maybe being broke makes you appreciate yummy food more, she thought.

  “Want some?” she asked her friends.

  Hudson shook her head, chewing her plain grilled cheese.

  “No thanks,” Lizzie said, taking a bite of her toasted bagel.

  When the waiter dropped the bill down on their table, Carina snatched it up. “I’m sure I owe the most,” she said blithely, scanning the numbers.

  Her gaze stopped at the figure next to her burger and fries. She owed ten dollars. Ten dollars. Half her allowance. Which meant she had only ten more dollars for the next six days.

  “C? You okay?” Hudson asked.

  “Yeah, yeah, no problem,” she said, taking out her wallet. “I need to break this baby anyway.”

  She laid her lone twenty on the top of the cash pile very carefully, like something to be sacrificed.

  “Carina?” Lizzie asked gently, darting her huge hazel eyes at Hudson. “Let me pay for this.”

  “No, no, I got it,” she protested, trying to smile. “Hey, it was worth it.”

  But when the unsmiling waiter came by and scooped up their money, it was all she could do not to yell for him to come back.

  Later that afternoon, in earth science, Carina jerked herself awake. The burger and fries may have been amazing, but they had done nothing for keeping her alert and awake. At the front of the room, Sophie Duncan and Jill Rau were giving a very boring, very nap-friendly presentation on greenhouse gases. Carina felt her eyelids start to shut. This was something she could definitely miss.

  At last she heard Sophie say, “Which brings us to our conclusion…”

  Carina fluttered her eyes open.

  “We’d like to collect donations for the Carbon Emissions Fund,” Sophie announced, pushing her glasses higher on her nose. “All of the proceeds will go to buying carbon offsets to keep our air cleaner. So anything anyone can give would be welcome.”

  Carina froze. Donations meant money. She watched as Sophie and Jill each dropped a bill into the basket. And then people started unzipping their book bags. The sound of wallets being opened and crinkled money being taken out was suddenly deafening. Carina began to panic. She was going to have to put something in the basket—she couldn’t not donate money, especially for cleaner air. But all she had was her last ten-dollar bill.

  Jill was already walking the basket over to Carina’s table. She didn’t have much time.

  “Hey, Will,” she whispered to the boy sitting next to her.

  Will McArdle gave her a suspicious look. They hadn’t spoken in a few weeks, ever since she’d accused him of cheating during their test on the periodic table.

  “Do you have change?” she asked him cheerily, holding out her ten.

  Glaring at her, Will took her ten, and from the impressive stack in his wallet peeled off two fives. “Here,” he huffed, handing her the money.

  She’d really wanted a five and five singles, but she was too embarrassed to quibble about it. “Thanks!” she chirped.

  As the basket passed in front of her, she threw in a five-dollar bill. Then she looked at the other five in her hand. That was all she had left now. For the next six days.

  What had just happened? In three hours, she had spent two-thirds of her allowance on a turkey burger and cleaner air. But she hadn’t had a choice. She’d had to eat lunch, and she couldn’t be too cheap to donate money to a worthy cause.

  Right?

  Now she wasn’t sure. Trying to save money turned out to be exhausting, like trying to figure out an impossible algebra equation. She shoved the five into her wallet. She wouldn’t think about this anymore. At least not until she absolutely had to.

  At the end of the day, she, Lizzie, and Hudson walked out of school and right into Carter and Laetitia and Anton hanging out in front of the gelato place on the corner.

  “Hey, Jurgensen,” Carter called out. “Want to get some ice cream?”

  After her tense day of thinking about money, easing back into flirt mode felt like a relief. “Sure,” she said, walking toward him as her heart started to beat in triple time. Carina looked back at her friends, silently urging them to follow her inside. Lizzie and Hudson followed.

  Inside, Carina maneuvered herself up near Carter at the counter, surveying the flavors. “So I take it you like to be cold?” she asked him playfully.

  “Only when you’re around to warm me up,” he said, smiling.

  Carina felt a shiver go down her back. Suddenly she couldn’t think straight.

  “Okay, what does everyone want?” asked the grouchy woman behind the counter, brandishing the metal scoop in her hand like a sword.

  Carina suddenly remembered that she had to order something. She glanced at the list of prices above the counter. A small gelato was three fifty. She had five dollars left. The panic she’d felt in earth science began to course through her body again. It had been a dumb move to come in here, but now she had to order something. Otherwise Carter would think she’d only come in here to flirt with him. Which was basically the truth.

  “Sour cherry,” Carter said. “A large.”

  “Small mint chocolate chip,” Hudson ordered.

  “Small pumpkin,” Lizzie said.

  Carina kept looking at the flavors, paralyzed.

  The woman tapped her fingers on the glass. “And you?” she asked.

  “Uh, small pumpkin, too,” she finally said.

  That was it. She had a dollar fifty left now. Carina bit her lip as she watched the woman scoop up a bunch of pumpkin gelato she didn’t even want and smash it into a paper cup. The woman handed Carina her cup of gelato, and she handed her the five-dollar bill with gritted teeth.

  After the woman had rung everyone up, Carter leaned in close enough to her that she could feel his arm against hers. “Hey, we’re going to Serafina tonight for pizza,” he said. “The one on Seventy-ninth and Madison. Want to come?”

  Yes! she wanted to say. “Oh, I can’t,” she fibbed as her heart sank. “I’m going to Montauk tonight. But maybe some other time?”

  “Sure,” Carter said coolly.

  “And I’m still really looking forward to the Alps,” she said, smiling.

  “People are starting to get their lift tickets,” Carter said, spooning gelato into his mouth. “I think they’re, like, two hundred bucks. Isn’t that what I said?” he asked Laetitia, who nodded in a bored way.

  “Just give Carter or me a check as soon as you can,” she said in her usual blasé tone. “And we’re all taking this flight from Kennedy to Zurich on the night of the twenty-sixth. On Swissair. I can get you the rest of the info later.”

  “Great!” Carina chirped. She needed to get out of here. “Have a good weekend!” With one yank she pulled Lizzie with her toward the door and Hudson followed.

  “Is everything okay?” Hudson asked as they stepped into the freezing wind.

  “My house—now,” Carina said, steering them both to the corner.

  “Actually, can it be my house?” Lizzie asked. “I’m grounded, remember?”

  “Fine,” Carina said as Lizzie hailed a cab.

  A few minutes later, Carina paced Lizzie’s carpet as a wad of Bubble Yum made her jaws work overtime. Every few seconds she wheeled around on the balls of her feet and paced in the opposite direction.

  “Calm down, C,” Lizzie said from behind her computer. “It’s stressing me out just looking at you.”

  “I refuse—refuse—to let this happen,” Carina said, wheeling around once more. “He can cut me off, he can give me a phone that’s twenty years old, but he cannot, cannot ruin my love life!” She stopped and blew a bubble until it popped with a satisfying thwock. “I can’t believe it. Carter McLean finally asks me out, and I can’t go.”

  �
��C, let’s put this in perspective,” Hudson said, stroking Sid Vicious’s furry white head. “He invited you to go to Serafina’s with a bunch of people. It wasn’t a date.”

  “But it could have been,” Carina said, pointing at Hudson. “I mean, we could have ended up at his place—or my place, and then people might have gone home, and we would have been alone, and watching TV, and he could have kissed me, and then it would definitely have been a date. And now none of that’s gonna happen.”

  Her friends were staring at her like she’d just sprouted another head. “And no one will ever love you,” Lizzie supplied.

  Carina gave Lizzie a sour look.

  “Okay then, here,” Hudson said, leaning over the bed to reach into her book bag. “Go out tonight. Have a good time. Pay me back on Monday.”

  Carina stared at the twenty in Hudson’s hand and shook her head. “That’s totally sweet of you, H, but I’m not going to take your money. I’m gonna figure this out on my own. I have to. Even though I have exactly a dollar and fifty cents.”

  “But you only got lunch and gelato,” Lizzie pointed out, twisting her hair into a knot and securing it with a pencil.

  “Sophie and Jill asked everyone to make a donation in earth science,” Carina said.

  “You gave money to Sophie and Jill?” Lizzie asked.

  “It was for cleaner air!” Carina cried. “I had to give something!”

  “Well, let’s look at these flights,” Lizzie said wearily, turning back to the computer monitor. “Yeesh. The one that everyone’s taking from Kennedy to Zurich looks like it’s eleven hundred bucks.”

  “Oh great,” Carina muttered.

  “But here’s something,” Lizzie said quickly, peering at the screen. “There’s a flight on BudgetAir. It stops in London. And in Frankfurt. And in Zurich, where you get on a puddle jumper—”

  “How much is it?” Carina demanded.

  “Seven hundred bucks,” Lizzie said. “Economy class. And they can’t guarantee an actual seat.”

  “Seven hundred bucks, plus two hundred for a lift ticket, is nine hundred,” Carina recited. “And then I’m gonna need money for a cab from the airport, and to go out at night, and eat during the day…” She sat down on the edge of Lizzie’s bed, lost in thought. “That’s at least a thousand bucks.” Her mind was racing in circles, and she was getting a headache.

  “Maybe you should just tell Carter you can’t make it,” Hudson suggested, touching Carina’s wrist.

  “Yeah, C,” Lizzie said, flopping onto the bed. “It’s not like this is the only chance you’re going to have to hang out with Carter McLean the rest of your life. And have you even asked your dad if you can go?”

  Carina snorted. “I don’t need his permission. And he’d probably be thrilled to get rid of me for a few weeks anyway.”

  “Personally I think you should save yourself the stress,” Lizzie said. “This trip really isn’t that important.”

  “No, it is,” she said slowly, trying to keep her voice even. “If I don’t go, then it’s like proving the Jurg right. That he has complete control over my life.”

  “Well, he kind of does,” Lizzie said gently, toying with a dog-eared cover of The Great Gatsby. “My parents control me with money. It’s what parents do.”

  “Yeah, me too,” Hudson murmured.

  Carina and Lizzie gave their friend a look.

  “What?” Hudson asked innocently.

  “Once your album comes out, you’re never gonna have to worry about an allowance again,” Carina said tartly. She sighed and stared at the sky blue wall. “Let’s face it, people. I’m screwed.”

  “What if you get a job?” Lizzie asked, propping herself up on her forearms. “Isn’t that the obvious way out of this?”

  “Yeah, a job!” Hudson chimed in, so excited that Sid Vicious leaped out of her lap. “You already have experience!”

  “At my dad’s company?” Carina asked, watching Sid settle himself into a white fluffball at the foot of the bed. “Please. He’s not gonna hire me again. Much less pay me.”

  “I was thinking more like the Gap,” Hudson said.

  “Or Old Navy,” Lizzie suggested.

  “They don’t hire people under sixteen,” Carina fired back. She’d already thought of that.

  “Well, there has to be someone out there who needs help for Christmas and would hire someone a teensy bit underage,” Hudson said cheerfully, winding a strand of black hair around her thumb. “What about all those tiny little shops on the Upper East Side, right near school? What about the candy store?”

  “Maybe,” Carina said. It wasn’t a bad idea. She stood up and grabbed her book bag. “I’ll look into that. Who wants to get together tomorrow and ride the subway?”

  “Hang in there, C,” Lizzie said, standing and giving her a hug. “We’re always here.”

  “And Carter’s not going anywhere,” Hudson added, confidently shaking her head. “Besides, staying home tonight makes you more mysterious.”

  As Carina hugged her friends good-bye, she wondered if they were right. Maybe she needed to give up on Carter McLean and her dreams of a fabulous Alpine romance. But right now that felt like the same thing as giving up on herself.

  chapter 7

  That night Carina lay on the leather couch in the downstairs den just off the Jurg’s office and watched a marathon of The Real Housewives of New Jersey. Every few minutes she told herself that she was being mysterious. It wasn’t working. Every cell in her body wanted to be at Serafina’s right now, sitting next to Carter, laughing and joking with him as they split a pizza margherita and some tiramisu. She could just picture how much fun everyone was having, how they’d be talking about the ski trip, how cute Carter probably looked with a little gel in his hair and in a wrinkled blue-checked shirt…

  She reached for her MacBook Air and touched the keyboard. Carter’s Facebook page shot up onto the screen. Holding her breath, she moved the cursor over to the “Add Carter as a friend” box, but just before she clicked, she stopped herself. After all, she wasn’t desperate, she thought, putting the laptop back on the floor. Lizzie was right. She’d have many other chances to hang out with him. She hoped.

  “Carina? Nikita give you dinner?”

  The Jurg stood in the doorway in his shirtsleeves and tie, his hair still wet from his postgame shower. On the Friday nights that they didn’t go out to Montauk because he had a late meeting, he liked to play squash at the Union Club with other Masters of the Universe. As if he didn’t get enough pleasure out of being an alpha male during the workday.

  “Yeah, I had some pasta,” she said listlessly. It was the first time she’d seen him since her dramatic exit the night before, and she didn’t want to be too friendly.

  “How was your day?” he asked. He actually sounded interested.

  “Fine,” she said, her eyes on the flat screen. Go away, she thought. Just leave.

  “Good,” he said awkwardly, leaning against the doorway. “Did Marco tell you that I’m going to London later tonight?”

  “Uh-huh,” she said, keeping her eyes on the TV.

  “Be back on Monday.”

  “Awesome,” she muttered.

  “And what we talked about last night,” he said, stepping into the room. “Carina? Would you mind looking at me, please?”

  She flicked her eyes away from the TV. Maybe he’s about to apologize, she thought. Maybe he wanted to tell her this would just be for a few days, until she learned her lesson.

  “That MetroCard I gave you was just for a week,” he said, reaching into his back pocket. “This one is for an entire month.” He pulled out another yellow card and placed it on the wooden credenza inside the door. “At the end of the month, just come speak to me and we can get you another one.”

  She sat perfectly still on the sofa, too stunned to say anything. Another one? For the next month?

  “Uh, fine,” she said, turning back to the TV. She was so angry that she felt like her blood might act
ually boil.

  “Carina,” he said more urgently, coming to stand in front of the couch. “I just want you to know that this is for your own—”

  “I got it,” she snapped, cutting him off. “Have a good—”

  She was cut off by the sound of ringing. It was the Jurg’s BlackBerry. He pulled it out of his jacket pocket and answered it. “Yes?” he said curtly, pivoting around toward the door. “No. Tell him to wait. I’ll be there in the morning.”

  He walked out of the den and a moment later she could hear him climbing the stairs. She reached for one of the mocha-colored suede throw pillows under her head and threw it at the door. It hit a framed photograph of the Jurg and Richard Branson instead. With a clatter, the photograph fell to the ground.

  So this wasn’t going to be a weekly experiment. This was going to be a till-the-end-of-the-year experiment. Which meant that if she wanted to have any shot at blissful love with Carter McLean, she’d need to get a job, stat.

  Just then an earsplitting chime rang through the room. It was her panda phone, lying on the floor near the computer. The number on the screen had an 808 area code. Hawaii. Her mom. She reached for it.

  “Hello?” she answered.

  “Hi, honey, it’s me,” came her mom’s soothing, honeyed voice over the crackle of static. “I saw that you called me a few days ago and I’ve been meaning to call you back… How are you, sweetie?”

  Where do I even begin? she thought. “I’m okay. Things have been pretty crazy this week. Dad and I had kind of a fight—”

  “I heard, but I thought that was taken care of,” her mom said. “Didn’t that lawyer come pay you a visit?”

  “Yeah, she did, that was great, it’s just that afterwards, something happened—”

  There was a faint clicking sound on the line.

  “Oh sweetie, I’m so sorry but I have to get that, it’s this reporter from Condé Nast Traveler and they’re doing a story on the yoga studio. Can I call you back later?”

  “Sure,” Carina said, twisting a piece of hair around her finger. “No prob’m.”

  “Actually, it’s late there. I’ll try you tomorrow. Get some sleep tonight, honey. I wish I were there to tuck you in.”