by Helen Eve
They stare at their notes, which in Penny’s case are mostly doodles of long-legged girls wearing fancy riding clothes, and, in Lila’s, the words Lila Ambrose, Lila Ambrose-Rodriguez and Lila Rodriguez-Ambrose in shaky calligraphy. I don’t bother to point out that her boyfriend’s surname is Armstrong because I don’t think he knows how to read anyway.
‘I loved your essay,’ Lila reassures her. ‘It was really au courant to compare Hamlet’s family dynamics with the Kardashians’. Do you still have it?’
‘I’m sure it’s in here somewhere.’ Penny tips out her bag, showering the table in lip glosses and sweatbands before finding the crumpled pages. ‘Perhaps I misheard the question.’
‘It was supposed to be appearance versus reality.’ Mary-Ann examines her plate closely. ‘Speaking of which, what do you think this is?’
‘Shepherd’s pie?’ suggests Lila. ‘Either that or a burger.’
Mary-Ann pokes it with her knife. ‘Lasagne,’ she confirms.
‘Appearance versus reality,’ muses Penny, shading in the rainbow Lila has drawn across her page. ‘That does sound familiar.’
‘We did it for Much Ado,’ I say patiently. ‘And Othello. And The Merchant of Venice.’
‘So why were we doing it again?’
I stare at Penny, hoping to convey that the real topic at hand is Ruby and not her own ridiculous excuse for an essay. ‘Because it underpins everything. Don’t you see?’
‘I can’t believe Mr Trevelyan got so angry with you, Stella.’ Lila crosses out Penny’s F grade and replaces it with an A and a Keep it up! in lipstick scrawl. ‘You’re his favourite.’
I’m glad she’s noticed this. Sometimes I think they forget what I look like.
‘Is he cute when he’s angry?’ asks Penny dreamily.
I think of him shouting, red-faced and bug-eyed, and edit carefully. ‘It was awful.’ There’s a catch in my voice. ‘He was so cold, and he wouldn’t look at me, and –’ I pause – ‘he told me to call him Sir.’
There’s a collective gasp. This enforced formality takes away the joy of English lessons and fires them with renewed anger.
‘How could Ruby do that?’ Lila sounds furious as she puts a supportive arm around me. ‘It’s so disloyal.’
Lila likes to pretend she’s Spanish and often showcases her Mediterranean temper. She does look a bit Spanish, especially now she’s started dying her mousy hair black, but actually she’s from Maida Vale and her real surname is Rogers, not Rodriguez. I gather her mediocre performance in Spanish lessons isn’t fooling anyone, but it’s nice that she has a hobby.
Out of the corner of my eye I see Ruby rushing over. ‘Have you heard what happened?’ she says excitedly. She’s stuck silver stars all over the Zinnia in the shape of her name, and silver star ribbons are woven through her French plaits. It’s no wonder she’s failing Maths.
Katrina takes the lead, as she should. She’s the one whose marks will be most affected and she hates people knowing how stupid she is.
‘Of course we’ve heard.’ She scowls and Ruby recoils. ‘You’ve ruined everything – we’ll have to start writing our essays ourselves!’ She’s hysterical; her need to please Jamie is making her ridiculous.
Lila leans forward. ‘Why did you just copy it like that? Mr Trevelyan’s not an idiot! And copying off Stella as well – did you think he was going to believe you’d written that?’
I’m dying to smile. Ruby has never accepted that she’s less academically able than the fat-free yoghurt on her tray, so Lila is really sticking the knife in. We stare at her disgustedly, although my expression is tinged with the distress of the unjustly accused.
‘And you let poor Stella take the blame,’ says Penny. ‘This is unforgivable, Ruby.’
Last year we suspended Penny from group activities when she kissed Tom, who Katrina was involved with. Haunted by her temporary exclusion, she has a strong desire for retribution, even though she and Ruby are very close. In fact, Ruby defended Penny for that transgression – a hazardous move resulting in a singed tie when Katrina’s rate of reaction experiment went badly wrong the next day. Katrina swore it was an accident and I believed her: she never could work a Bunsen burner, which was the only reason Ruby lost her tie rather than her nose. Now Ruby can’t believe she almost went up in flames helping Penny and this is her reward.
It’s the last straw, judging by her tears, but Katrina is determined to finish the job.
‘We don’t want you sitting here anymore,’ she says triumphantly.
This may sound trivial, but you shouldn’t underestimate the implications. Our corner gives us security: not for us the panic of walking through a sea of tables, frantically scanning for a friendly face or an empty space. It means we can eat, or more accurately not eat, any time we please. Perhaps this is the same anywhere, but at boarding school the significance of every disagreement, every false move, every bad outfit choice, is magnified. You don’t have any other friends. Your parents aren’t available, and if they were they wouldn’t care – otherwise they wouldn’t have sent you away in the first place. And we sit at that table three times a day.
Ruby looks at each of us in turn. She’s desperate; her eyes are beseeching. It’s important that I’m not seen as the ringleader, but my barely perceptible shrug makes it clear that my hands are tied. Finally she puts down her lunch tray, raises her trembling hands and removes her earrings. Defeated, she breaks into a loud sob and runs away, watched by the whole room.
‘Going to find Blake?’ shouts Lila after her, which I think is going a bit far: I doubt Blake will ever speak to her again now she’s spilled the beans on their unethical and possibly illegal relationship.
Katrina tentatively puts her hand into the centre of the table and we all follow suit.
‘Stars aligned,’ we say in unison.
For a second there’s a gap where Ruby used to sit. Then Katrina shoves her discarded tray into the middle of the table and Penny starts eating her yoghurt. Mary-Ann puts her bag on the empty chair and we all move closer together. In short, we re-form like liquid. Parental absence forces one to be resilient.
Chapter Seven
Caitlin
Starting school midway through the year meant that friendships were already formed, and at first I struggled to find my way around, to understand an unfamiliar curriculum and to tolerate the vile weather. Even so, something unexpected was happening. Ordinary and undistinguished at Campion, I’d made an impression here. I had no idea how or why – perhaps it was being a novelty – but everyone wanted to talk to me. Boys offered to carry my books; Shells and Removes asked where I got my clothes. Teachers called on me and seemed proud when I answered right.
The attention made life interesting, but, despite the way they’d stared on my first day, the Stars had ignored me ever since. I hadn’t been part of a clique at Campion, but I found myself feeling restless and ungrateful as I hung out with Lucy and Hannah, watching the Stars out of the corner of my eye as if I were staring through a shop window at a display I couldn’t afford. Everything they did grabbed my attention: whether it was speaking out in class (usually incorrectly), walking the halls after curfew in babydoll nightdresses and fluffy socks, or even just sitting around their special cafeteria table, I studied them incessantly. Aside from anything else, they provided a welcome distraction from the ache I got in my throat whenever I worried about Charlie and how he was doing without me. And sometimes, when I was overwhelmed by the need to speak to my mom, the dismissive way I overheard them speak of their own families made it easier for me to ignore her calls.
The day after their row with Ruby I was curious to see their reaction, but it appeared to be business as usual. Penny screamed when Henry tried to put gum in her hair, and Lila dumped orange juice over his head before comparing Math homework with Mary-Ann. Stella moved artichoke hearts around her plate in concentric circles and didn’t eat a bite. Katrina held up magazine spreads of new season slingbacks and forced them all to vote
on whether she should get them in pink as well as purple.
Caroline put an arm around Ruby when she drifted into the cafeteria and sank down beside her. Even though Ruby didn’t try to hide the fact that our table was her last resort, no one seemed annoyed, and, when Edward left the Stripes’ table and joined us, I understood why. Caroline surreptitiously pinched her cheeks to make them pinker, and even the perpetually studious Hannah and Lucy looked animated at his proximity. Apparently Edward’s undeniable appeal wasn’t limited to the Stars.
‘How are you bearing up, Sinclair?’ Edward asked Ruby with mock-sympathy.
Ruby collapsed against him. ‘I miss them,’ she wailed. ‘I can’t bear it any longer. Please talk to them for me, Edward.’
Edward kissed her on the head. ‘This is just a phase. You lot are such drama queens. You’ll be back over there by the end of the week.’
She’d started to look hopeful when he turned to me and winked. ‘If they don’t already plan to replace you with Caitlin, that is.’
My face burned, and Caroline cut in before Ruby grew hysterical. ‘Leave her alone, Edward. You’re so insensitive! It’s no wonder that Stella dumped you for Luke.’
If Edward was upset by Caroline’s bluntness, he didn’t show it. ‘Wrong,’ he said as he stole some of her fries. ‘If you remember, Stella and I mutually decided to date other people.’
Apparently Ruby wasn’t so upset that she couldn’t make digs at other people. ‘Luke’s so in touch with his emotions,’ she cooed, backing Caroline up. ‘And he’s not at all possessive.’
Edward rolled his eyes. ‘Don’t turn on me, Sinclair, when you’ve been well and truly ditched by the whole cluster. What will you do with yourself now?’
Ruby stared around in defeat. ‘You’re right. I can’t sit here for the next year. It’s worse than being dead.’
Lucy stepped in. ‘Ruby, you’re deluded. What’s so great about being a Star anyway? Naked quad runs? Detentions? You should be celebrating your freedom, not crying over them.’
Ruby looked affronted. ‘I’m sorry the Stars aren’t always nice to you, Lucy, but that’s not my experience of them.’
Lucy stuck to her guns. ‘Then you have a short memory. I don’t expect you all to be nice to me, but you aren’t even nice to each other! You have no loyalty whatsoever.’
I could see that Ruby was searching her memory for evidence to the contrary, but she didn’t stop Lucy ploughing on. ‘And the teachers aren’t pleased with you either. What about the trouble you got into last summer for breaking curfew? You’re on an academic warning!’
Ruby scowled. ‘It’s just a formality. Honestly, this school is like a prison camp.’
‘It’s not just a formality,’ Caroline corrected her. ‘If any of you breaks curfew again, you won’t be allowed to stand in the election. That seems pretty real to me.’
‘If any of us gets caught breaking curfew, you mean,’ said Ruby, pleased to have found a loophole. ‘It was an overreaction. We were just having a party; we weren’t doing anything wrong.’
Lucy was annoyed. ‘You did plenty of things wrong, starting with drinking a fish tank full of tequila. Don’t tell me Penny doesn’t regret what she did that night. Not to mention Lila!’
Ruby turned to me. ‘Lucy’s making it sound much worse than it was. Last summer we had a party down at the lake. It got a bit…’
‘Debauched?’ supplied Edward.
‘Flirtatious,’ said Ruby demurely. ‘Penny got drunk and slept with Olly – well, she thinks she did, but her memory never fully came back. Afterwards she pretended to have the flu and went to the hospital wing. Katrina took her some sexual health leaflets, and I don’t think that helped. She’d made them into a sort of bouquet. But Penny’s always been a lightweight.’
Caroline raised an eyebrow. ‘What about Lila? She had to have her stomach pumped!’
‘She wasn’t supposed to drink the whole tank!’ Ruby said hotly. ‘She should learn some restraint. Anyway, Caitlin, lakeside parties were banned after Lila’s mum turned up and threatened to sue the school. She kept screaming, “Am I supposed to look after her myself?” and so Dr Tringle had to come down hard on us.’
‘Ruby, can’t you see that being a Star isn’t everything?’ Lucy asked. ‘You’re all completely dysfunctional. Penny and Lila are weirdly co-dependent. Katrina doesn’t even know how to walk without Stella pulling her strings. Mary-Ann’s got … issues. Exactly why can’t you imagine life without them?’
‘You can say what you like, Lucy. But every single one of you –’ Ruby looked at each of us in turn – ‘would give your right arm to be a Star. Because the bottom line is that nothing in the whole world is the same without Stella. Nothing.’
I smiled uncertainly at Ruby. She was pretty, even with her lips pressed petulantly together. She had incredibly green almond-shaped eyes and the waist-length hair that was a staple amongst the Stars. She wore her beautiful cashmere sweater carelessly and I noticed an ink stain on the sleeve. I still wasn’t sure what made the Stars so different to the rest of us, but they had a fashion magazine sheen that I couldn’t hope to emulate. Even separated from her natural habitat she didn’t fit in amongst us, and I felt ashamed at how very ordinary and unpolished we all must look beside her.
As the Stars prepared to go, I saw the salute Lucy had told me about. Stella stuck her hand into the centre of the table and said ‘One’. In rapid succession, the others called a number and piled their hands on top of each other. After Penny called ‘Five’, there was a brief, Ruby-less silence before they all shouted ‘Six’. Then they raised their hands above their heads, chorusing ‘Stars aligned!’
Ruby burst into tears and Caroline reached to comfort her again. ‘They are so lame,’ she muttered to me, though I wasn’t convinced by her tone. ‘They’ve been doing that since they were twelve years old.’
‘Lame,’ I murmured in assent.
Just then Stella looked directly at me and raised an eyebrow. I had no idea why it happened, especially as I felt bad for Ruby, but something occurred to me for the first time. Number six is free.
Chapter Eight
Stella
Replacing Ruby as the sixth Star is such a sought-after position that many civilians lose all dignity as they clamour to be considered for membership. I wait for the perfect moment to introduce myself to the Chosen One, but in the meantime I’m reluctant to dampen the sense of hope and possibility that the vacancy has inspired amongst the other girls. I suppose I could have told Caroline that no amount of Fabergé eggs can compensate for the poor condition of her lowlights, or Delia that the pink Fendi bag she gave me clashes with my winter colouration, but I see no harm in prolonging such joyful excitement at an otherwise bleak time of year.
In fact, I’m almost disappointed when, on my way to the Common Room, I see her alone in the quad.
It’s snowing, which has caused much excitement amongst the boys. I hate snow, but the Stripes, many of whom are of below-average intelligence, got up early to build snow objects in the quad. I say objects because although there are a couple of snowmen, there’s also a snow – well, I’d rather not say what it is, but I’m pretty sure Edward was responsible.
The reason I hate this weather is that whenever you step outside you get pelted with snowballs. This is a strange kind of compliment, because if you aren’t popular the boys don’t waste ammunition (unless you’re so unpopular that they actually want to kill you), but it’s terrible when it happens. Even though going onto the front line involves considerable personal sacrifice, I push open the doors and head towards Caitlin.
Up close I see she’s crying. Usually I’d avoid such an emotional display, but the time is right, as her closeness to Ruby is becoming a concern. She’s wearing a beautiful white Prada coat that I saw in Harper’s, and her impeccable style, much more sophisticated than the tedious boho craze the Stars won’t grow out of, is wasted on high street sheep like Caroline.
She hasn’t noticed
the peril she’s in, and the Stripes are taking aim by the time I stand firmly in front of her.
‘Back off, Edward,’ I say, and he lowers his throwing arm disappointedly before turning his attentions to Ally, who from behind is an unmissable target.
I’m in a dilemma about how to broach the situation when she meets my eye and laughs.
‘Sorry,’ she says, wiping tears from her cheeks and folding up a letter that I can see is from a child.
‘Are you okay?’ I ask.
I have a great line in sympathy when I’m in the right mood. Besides, boarding school is probably tough if you’re on your own.
She’s obviously delighted, but my congenial approach – non-Stars are always taken aback when directly addressed – makes her cry more. No one would want to meet me not looking their best; I expect it brings home all their insecurities.
‘Shall we get coffee?’ I ask.
She’s nervous, as one would expect, so I lead her to the Common Room. If the other Stars behaved in such a familiar way with a newcomer I wouldn’t be pleased, but as I trust my own judgement I send Caroline to fetch us our non-fat lattes while we sit on the usual sofa.
Caitlin takes the lead, which is refreshing: most of the girls here are so lacking in initiative and basic etiquette that finishing school can’t come too soon for them.
‘I’m really sorry about that,’ she says again. She’s more composed now, and she’s got the type of skin – clear and slightly olive – that forgives crying. Penny, for example, is so pink and white that any blemish makes her embarrassingly blotchy, but Caitlin now has delicately flushed cheeks and bright blue eyes even though she’s not wearing any make-up.
‘No problem,’ I say. ‘I remember how hard it is being new.’
I don’t, actually: Katrina and I were as thick as thieves from the outset. Being new was hard for the rest of our intake purely because of us, rendering us exempt from the stress of it.