Stella

by Helen Eve

  Stella was curled up on the couch with Mary-Ann, and she put down her textbook as I walked slowly back towards them.

  ‘Don’t you want your earrings?’ she asked, pushing the box at me. ‘I mean, that is what that little episode was all about?’

  ‘Of course it was,’ I said. ‘So … does this mean…?’

  Stella smiled as the other Stars gathered around us. ‘Welcome home.’

  ‘I’m so glad you’re here, Caitlin,’ said Penny excitedly. ‘We haven’t had a chance to do a quad run in weeks. It really keeps me in shape.’

  Katrina gently removed my studs, replacing them with the silver stars. We formed a circle and Stella put her hand inside. It was tiny and delicate, her pink fingernails like pearls.

  ‘One,’ she said.

  The others followed. After Penny called ‘Five’, they looked at me, and I put my hand on top of theirs. I hoped no one could see how ragged my cuticles were.

  ‘Six!’

  ‘Stars aligned!’ we said as we raised our hands above our heads, our fists triumphantly punching the air.

  From behind us came the distinctive click of a camera phone. And for the first time in my life, I felt like I mattered.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Stella

  My permission letter is provided by Paula, who doesn’t officially have a role in my life these days, but is more reliable than any of my blood relatives. She joined the family before Siena was born: employed firstly as Seraphina’s lady who does, she graduated to the role of full-time nanny. Seraphina claimed to have post-natal depression, and maybe she did. She was only seventeen and it sounds a bit hellish – Siena was a difficult baby by all accounts and my father was never around even before he left for good – so even if there was plenty of money, it’s fair to say she didn’t have it easy.

  It upset me that Paula’s own flat was so different from our Hampstead house, and that her children were at a state school in Hounslow. Seraphina said we gave Paula a great opportunity in employing her, but for me it was the other way round, because without her I’d never have been taken to the park, or the swimming pool, or the zoo. I’d never have learnt to bake fairy cakes, or speak Spanish, or tie my shoelaces. And if Paula had worked weekends, I’m sure we’d never have attended the dinner parties Seraphina used to throw on Saturday evenings.

  She would dress Siena as a miniature blonde novelty in Junior Chanel, propped up by cushions and eating asparagus and carrot sticks served on a platter. When I was very young I loved being carried out in my nightdress to say goodnight, because everyone gave me money and told me I would break hearts.

  Siena attended the parties for years, but I was only invited once, when I was twelve, to the very last one. After that the dinner parties were an entirely separate reality, and yet I never forgot the way Siena worked the room and flicked her hair and looked at men through her eyelashes; the way her obscene, almost indecent beauty filled the room like scent.

  Sometimes I don’t think about how pretty I am, and sometimes it can be a downright nuisance, especially when I’m on public transport. I wonder what everyone’s staring at, but the times I catch sight of my reflection without warning are the moments I crave; the moments I see Siena most vividly. On odd occasions beauty can be advantageous, but more often I try not to wonder why I look like this when Lucy Ainsworth looks like Stimpy; not to wonder if there’s a hideous portrait of me rotting in an attic somewhere while my own beauty intensifies. It’s just the luck – or otherwise – of the draw, after all.

  * * *

  Luke has booked me a taxi and the driver takes me to the Arden, a hotel and country club a few miles outside Reading. He’s been smart enough to avoid anywhere the teachers might be able to afford, but the distance from school also scuppers any chance of friends joining us. This is the final blow, following swiftly from my failure to make the evening a double date.

  ‘Luke won’t mind if you and Caitlin come along,’ I told Edward in the tone he never refuses.

  He frowned in confusion. ‘Stella, have you met Luke?’

  ‘He’s very easygoing,’ I reassured him. ‘Just don’t tell him beforehand.’

  ‘Do you think I want to spend my Valentine’s Day watching you two undress each other?’ he asked.

  ‘That can’t happen,’ I said. ‘Not as long as you and Caitlin are there.’

  ‘Do you really think this is a good time to double date?’ He didn’t give me time to reply. ‘And do you really see Luke agreeing to it?’

  ‘It won’t be weird,’ I said defensively, but he was already walking away.

  ‘This conversation is weird,’ he threw over his shoulder. ‘I thought you wanted me to make a go of things with Caitlin?’

  I cursed myself for not approaching Caitlin instead. She’d have agreed like a shot to a slumber party, and then Luke and I could have stayed safely in different bedrooms.

  * * *

  Luke is waiting for me in the lobby, wearing his best suit and a silk tie. He’s carrying a huge bouquet of roses, which is a relief because once he bought me lilies, which I hate.

  ‘You look beautiful,’ he says.

  Because I look beautiful all the time, people don’t mention it as often as they might, but Luke’s really good at giving me compliments. I guess that’s one of the reasons we get on so well.

  ‘Thank you,’ I say modestly. ‘So do you.’

  Luke really is beautiful; so much so that I notice it every time I look at him, so I don’t feel funny about saying this.

  He asks the concierge to take my bag upstairs while I wander into the Ladies’ and stare hard into the giant mirror, wondering if I’ll look different in a few hours’ time. I spray Rescue Remedy in my mouth and then go back outside.

  Luke’s face lights up, as if he were worried I’d escaped through the window. He takes me to the restaurant and the maître d’ shows us to our table. If I wanted this night to happen, I’d acknowledge that he couldn’t have planned our first time better; if I have to surrender to the inevitable, I suppose it shows that good things come to those who wait.

  And boy, has Luke had to wait.

  We need Dutch courage, I decide. Luke looks surprised when I down a glass of champagne in one, but after that I relax.

  Cosmo’s advice was to avoid foods that bloat, so I ignore the bread basket and order a salad. Luke looks disappointed when I refuse to taste his steak, so I agree to share some tiramisu, because sharing dessert is mostly about the spectacle. I move cream around the plate, occasionally lifting a forkful and putting it back down, and he eats most of it without noticing before leaning across the table to kiss me.

  ‘You’re perfect,’ he says.

  I’m struck by how cheesy this is, but there’s no point being coy because Valentine’s Day is expensive and crowded and loud, and anyone who’s not a complete show-off would just stay at home. It’s safe to say I don’t fall into that category.

  When he’s finished the tiramisu and I’ve finished the champagne, we look at each other. It’s funny that our relationship has become so stilted and awkward, because it never used to be that way. When we were first together there was never enough time to say all the things we needed to. Any moments without him were spent clock-watching until I could see him again, and remembering how it felt to twist his hair around my little finger until he shivered; to trace my fingernails up and down his stomach as his breathing got shorter and faster and louder. Kissing Luke used to make my heart hammer and my legs buckle and my skin prickle like heat rash.

  And as we stand silently in the lift, two feet apart, I wonder how it came to this. If I’d loved Edward, or had even been able to pretend, I’d have stayed away from Luke and never discovered how it felt to be near him. If I’d been stronger, I’d have seen that surrendering to Luke could only lead here; to this hotel or another just like it; to a night that was never supposed to happen.

  * * *

  The room is covered in roses, and there are petals all over the bed.
Luke is even playing the sappy Beach Boys song I always complain about but secretly don’t quite hate. It’s clichéd, but there’s a reason for clichés, and it’s truly the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me. And yet I wish we could stop here, because once it’s done you can’t go back. Everything will have a different meaning, and I’m not ready for that change, but I can’t let him down when he’s gone to all this trouble.

  Whenever I think about sex, it’s more abstract than this. The concept suddenly seems very literal, in a way I’ve never dwelled on, and I try to remember how I reassured Katrina before her own first time with Henry. Or perhaps it was Tom. It’s like falling off a log.

  At some point he pulls back. ‘Your hair looks beautiful like that.’

  My hair is tangled around my head, so I shake it out.

  ‘Why don’t you ever wear it up?’ he asks, and, before I can brace myself against it, I’m falling.

  I tell myself I’m being ridiculous, but however much I try to fight it I can’t, and I suddenly know beyond all doubt that I can’t go through with this. Ironically, Luke himself has brought this home to me by reminding me of the person I’m failing to live up to.

  I push him away.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ he says, alarmed.

  I look at the ceiling and try in vain to think of some excuse.

  He falters. ‘I wanted to make our first time special. I thought we both wanted this.’

  My hand clenches involuntarily, and he looks at me sharply. ‘Are you leading me on?’

  I try to answer, but still no sound comes out.

  ‘Edward was right, wasn’t he?’ he says finally. ‘Everything’s just a game to you.’

  I feel the gossamer-thin thread that has held us together snag and start to fray. The night is over, and I’ve got what I wanted and yet didn’t want at all. I wonder what Edward has told him, but simultaneously can’t stand to hear the answer.

  ‘Forget it, then,’ he says. His voice is tired.

  I get up and shut myself in the bathroom. I feel sober now, so I get my vodka out of my handbag. This is a habit I should break, but sometimes I don’t want to feel anything except the way it burns the back of my throat.

  When I get into bed, Luke turns away. His back is rigid and even with my eyes closed I’m very aware of his presence. The thought of losing him sends fear surging through my body, paralysing me in a way I once knew to guard against.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Caitlin

  I invited Lucy to hang out while I got ready for my date with Edward. I hadn’t seen her much recently, because being a Star was so all-consuming, but luckily she hadn’t held it against me. If anything, she seemed grateful that I still wanted to be her friend. The thought made me a little uncomfortable.

  It was only a few weeks since my initiation, but my previous life was already a different dimension. I still wanted to pinch myself whenever I sat in my place – my engraved place – at the Star table and they competed to fill me in on important news. I still couldn’t believe it when Stella’s name flashed up on my phone and I heard her voice say my name. And when she smiled at me across a classroom, or sat close enough to lean her head on my shoulder, or whispered something to me that no one else could hear, I wanted to be near her forever. Being a Star was so incredible that, although I’d never admit it out loud, I felt almost grateful to my dad for helping me be part of Stella’s incredible life.

  ‘Your clothes are beautiful,’ Lucy said enviously as she held one of my dresses against herself in the mirror.

  She hadn’t told me much about her background, but I knew that money was tight at home. It must have been hard to be surrounded by such conspicuous wealth; where it was commonplace for girls to have their clothes shipped straight from the designer, and Birkin bags carried textbooks and gym kits.

  ‘You can borrow anything you like,’ I said, hoping the offer wasn’t insulting.

  She flushed with pleasure. ‘Really? You can borrow anything of mine too. If you want.’

  Her voice faded as she looked down at her grey cords and plain tee.

  ‘Do you want to hear some gossip?’ she asked quickly, as if the knowledge was a better trade than the contents of her closet. ‘You probably know all the Stars’ secrets now, but…’

  ‘Go on,’ I said, looking at her reflection.

  ‘Stella’s a virgin,’ Lucy whispered. ‘I heard her telling Mary-Ann in French.’

  I was confused. How could she be–

  ‘A virgin?’ I blurted out. ‘But didn’t she sleep with Edward?’

  Lucy giggled. ‘I was surprised too. But it seems not. Of course Edward would never damage his reputation by admitting the truth.’

  I tried to process this. The Stars had spent all week discussing the fact that tonight would be Stella’s first time with Luke, but not one of them seemed to know that it was her first time overall.

  ‘So who’s taking you out tonight?’ Lucy asked, jolting me out of my daydream.

  ‘Edward.’ I smiled, ashamed that I’d been caught thinking about Luke. ‘Can you believe he likes me?’

  Lucy averted her eyes from mine and fiddled with the dress.

  ‘Lucy?’ I asked. ‘Is something wrong?’

  She looked mortified, as if she had to force out the words. ‘Please be careful around Edward. You don’t know Stella as I do.’

  ‘What do you mean? She set me and Edward up.’

  ‘You haven’t been here long enough to understand,’ she said. ‘In this school, everything is about Stella. If she wants you to be with him then I’m sure she has her reasons.’

  I sighed. ‘Lucy, you’re starting to sound paranoid. I don’t see why it matters to you who I date. And why do you care what Stella does?’

  She shrugged. ‘I’m just tired of her. The Stars own everything in this school, including the election. I always hoped I might be able to stand, but the way everyone worshipped her at kick-off just shows what a stupid idea that was.’

  ‘You should run if you want to,’ I said. ‘How can they stop you?’

  ‘Easily,’ she said. ‘The Stars will do anything to make sure Stella wins, and they’ll tread on anyone who gets in their way. Plus, she’s a dead cert after what happened to her sister. Who would compete against her now?’

  I opened my mouth to ask Lucy exactly what had happened to Siena, then shut it again. Gossiping about it made me feel disloyal to Stella, and I’d started to worry that she’d somehow know we were talking about her. I searched desperately for a new subject.

  ‘Is this smart enough?’ I asked finally.

  I had the feeling that Edward would be taking me somewhere pretty expensive so I’d chosen the outfit my personal shopper had selected as formal: a beautiful green shift dress.

  She nodded, trying to smile. ‘Edward will love it. He and Stella always used to row about how short her skirts were.’

  When she’d gone, I swapped the dress for a shorter one.

  * * *

  After our dinner at le Rive, we took a cab back to school and Edward walked me across campus.

  ‘Caitlin!’ I turned around as I heard my name and saw a group of Shells leaning out of their dormitory window. ‘You look gorgeous!’

  ‘So do you, Edward!’ yelled another. ‘You’re our favourite Valentine’s couple!’

  After a moment’s hesitation I blew them a kiss. They were sweet, and it was nice to be around kids again, not to mention to be called their favourite. None of them had spoken to Ruby since she’d ceased to be a Star, so perhaps they were in need of a replacement.

  ‘Will you come in?’ I asked as we reached Woodlands. ‘We’re still ahead of curfew.’

  The little den on the first floor was empty: as it was supposed to be girls only, no one ever used it.

  ‘I like that dress,’ Edward said as we sat down. ‘Although I don’t think anything can top the way you looked covered in mud.’

  I blushed, unsure how to react whenever anyone mentioned my quad
run. It was still hard to believe that I’d done something so completely out of character, but, as days had passed and I’d received so many compliments about it, my embarrassment had mixed with pride.

  Edward pretended to flick dust off his jeans and then put his arm around the back of the couch. ‘I’m glad you agreed to go out with me.’

  ‘Me too,’ I smiled. ‘It was fun. And what a great restaurant!’

  Actually, le Rive had been stressful. I’d never had a Valentine’s Day date before and the other couples had been incredibly competitive, constantly leaning across their tables to kiss and show off their jewellery.

  ‘I really like spending time with you,’ he said. ‘You’re different to the other girls here.’

  This wasn’t welcome news.

  ‘In a good way,’ he clarified, seeing my expression. ‘You’re clever, and beautiful, and you eat actual food! That’s quite a novelty in this place.’

  I started to worry about the steak and fries I’d ordered, not to mention the crème brûlée. Was I supposed to pick at salad, or pretend I couldn’t manage a whole dessert?

  Before I could reply, he’d picked up my hand and was looking at it closely. ‘Is this one of those American rings? Stella said it’s called a purity ring or something.’

  I’d wondered whether to leave my ring behind when I moved to England: they might be commonplace at Campion but I hadn’t wanted anyone making fun of me here. I’d decided against it, because I didn’t see why I should have to change my beliefs for a bunch of kids I hadn’t even met. New start or not, I was pretty sure that the fun my dad wanted me to have didn’t involve the removal of the ring (or anything else).

  But whatever the truth about Edward and Stella’s relationship, living with any number of Edward’s exes didn’t make me feel good. The Fifth and Sixth Form girls were so uninhibited that I was Laura Ingalls by comparison.

  ‘Is it a problem?’ I felt wrong-footed to discover that he’d discussed it behind my back, especially since Stella had never mentioned the ring to me. ‘I know some boys have expectations and I don’t want you to think I’m leading you on.’