Genesis Girl

by Jennifer Bardsley

  The woman standing next to Trevor speaks for me. “So this is Blanca,” she says. Her skin is so smooth that the gray hair sets off her face like a frame.

  “Yes, Lilith,” says Ms. Lydia. “This is Ms. Blanca.” She puts the emphasis on the Ms., and Lilith finches.

  I take notice too, of course. Lilith is older than me, more experienced. I’ve followed her career ever since I was a little girl. I should be kowtowing to her, not the other way around. Why doesn’t Ms. Lydia want that? But then I look down at Lilith’s wrist and see gold, not platinum. For some reason, that loosens my tongue.

  “It’s nice to see you, Ms. Lilith,” I say. “And you too, Trevor.”

  Trevor smiles back at me with a mouth full of perfectly straight, white teeth.

  “And this is Blanca’s purchaser, Mr. Calum McNeal,” Ms. Lydia continues the introductions. Then she indicates the razor model behind Lilith. “And Richard, Trevor’s father.”

  “It’s a pleasure.” Cal shakes everyone’s hands. Then he looks at me and winks. “Richard and Lilith, I’m dying to hear about the soap industry. Let’s give these two some privacy, and you can tell me all about your work.”

  The other Vestals try not to laugh.

  Ms. Lydia actually does, that silvery laugh of hers that is so beautiful. “Calum!” she says as she leads him away. “You can’t give privacy. You can only protect it. Once it’s gone, it’s gone.”

  And then it’s me alone with Mr. Gorgeous, although we’re in a room full of people.

  “So, um,” says Trevor. “You’re Blanca.”

  “Yes,” I say, “I’m Blanca. Do you remember me from school?”

  “Um, no, not really. But Lilith, I mean … my mom said that you and I are going to be perfect together.”

  “Ms. Lydia said that too.”

  Trevor shoves his hands in his pockets and steals a glance at his mom.

  “So,” I say, “you’re twenty?”

  “That’s what they tell me.”

  I struggle to think, but it’s like my brain is made out of cardboard. “I’ve been a fan of your mom forever,” I finally say. “I’ll never forget that campaign she did for Citrus Sunshine when I was little.” Then I start to hum the tune like a dork before I can stop myself.

  But Trevor smiles and hums along with me. “Yes.” He steals a glance at Lilith. “That was a good one.”

  I look at Lilith too. She glares at me like I’m a menace. But then she sees me looking at her and quickly turns around.

  “Would you like to dance?” Trevor asks me. Without waiting for a response, he pulls me onto the floor. He binds his arms around me, and we float around the dance floor like we’re clouds. Trevor’s such a great dancer that for a second I forget about everything else. The Virus, the picture, the month locked in my room; it all spins away into oblivion.

  “So you went Geisha?”

  The question snaps me back into reality. “Yes. But it’s not what you think. My purchaser and I, we’re not … you know.”

  “Oh,” says Trevor. “My mom said … Never mind. You and me? This could be for real?”

  I feel my ears turn red. “If you want,” I manage to get out.

  “Cool.” Trevor pulls me closer, and we both spin around.

  We don’t say much after that. I’m too busy thinking about how we’re the perfect couple, and that it’s a shame that Virus isn’t here to see what a real relationship should look like.

  I can’t stay for the whole evening. I’m not exactly sure why. But right after dinner when the lights dim and the tables are being cleared away, Ms. Lydia suggests we leave. Cal immediately agrees.

  It’s been nothing but smiles and stolen glances between the two of them ever since we climbed into the limo.

  “I appreciate you allowing me to be your escort tonight, Lydia,” Cal says. “I realize now how courageous you had to be, to show up with an outsider like me.”

  “Don’t mention it.” Ms. Lydia blushes. “It was my pleasure.”

  “No, really,” says Cal. “You’re a remarkable woman, Lydia. Exactly like this young lady over here.”

  Cal elbows me in the ribs gently when he says that, and I flush too. He’s sitting between Ms. Lydia and me in the back of the limo.

  “I only have one complaint,” Cal continues, and I can’t tell if he’s being serious or not. “Where was the food? I thought we were going to a banquet!”

  Ms. Lydia giggles. “What are you talking about? There was plenty of food.”

  “Fish and vegetables do not count as plenty of food,” says Cal. “I’m starving!”

  “That’s how Vestals eat,” I say. I catch Ms. Lydia’s glance, and we both start laughing.

  “No wonder you people don’t go out,” Cal says. “Restaurants would be wasted on you.”

  “Fish and vegetables are good for you,” insists Ms. Lydia. “That’s what everybody should eat.”

  “Did somebody tell you that?” Cal asks.

  Ms. Lydia’s face freezes, and I feel a chill overcome the backseat. She recovers in a flash and changes the subject. “So, Blanca, what did you think of Trevor? You two were dancing all night.”

  “He’s nice. But I had a horrible time remembering how to talk.”

  “Oh?” asks Ms. Lydia.

  “Yes.” My ears turn red.

  Cal looks directly at Ms. Lydia. “I get tongue-tied by beauty too.”

  “Oh, Calum.” Now Ms. Lydia’s the one blushing.

  Watching old people flirt is bizarre. But I’m happy for them, even though I feel out of place. So I do the only sensible thing possible: I rest my head on the wall of the car and pretend to fall asleep.

  “Won’t you let us drop you off at home?” Cal asks Ms. Lydia. “I hate to think of you out on the roads by yourself this late at night.”

  “Thank you, but no. I’ll be fine.”

  “It would be no problem at all to take you to … ” Cal leaves the sentence hanging, a question. A Vestal would know better than to press Ms. Lydia on where she lives, but Cal’s not a Vestal.

  “Thank you, Calum, but again. I’ll be fine.”

  I give a snore. Not a that’s-so-fake-I-can’t-believe-it-snore, but a soft one, like I’m sound asleep.

  “Poor girl,” says Cal. “She’s had a long night.”

  “Yes,” says Ms. Lydia. “Blanca’s so lucky to have you to watch out for her. I couldn’t be happier with how things turned out. I wish I could spend more time with her.”

  “Then why don’t you?” Cal says. “Come to dinner tomorrow night. Or the next night, or the one after that.”

  There’s a few seconds of silence.

  I try to calm myself, to keep my breathing regular so it still looks like I’m asleep.

  “Well?” Cal waits for an answer. “I would love to see more of you. Would you consider that?”

  “Yes,” Ms. Lydia says, breathlessly. “I would.”

  I feel my eyes flutter, in spite of myself. Hopefully they still think I’m asleep. If I could fall asleep for real, I’d know exactly what to dream about.

  I want to be like Ms. Lydia someday. I want to be a Vestal Geisha who has completed her contract. I want to be exactly like her. Ms. Lydia has her freedom and her cuff.

  Ms. Lydia could have gone back to Tabula Rasa as a teacher, but instead she’s our elected agent. Even Headmaster Russell fears her.

  She’s the most perfect Vestal I know.

  The Virus waits for me at the door of my cloister. He leans against the door in a T-shirt and old jeans, his dark hair sticking up wildly all around his head. He clicks off his new finger-chips when he sees me approach, but I know he’s been online.

  “So you’re back?” he asks.

  A wave of heat rushes over me when I meet his eyes. “Yes.” I take the key to my room out of my pocket and unlock the door.

  The Virus follows me in. “Where’s my dad?”

  “Saying good-by
e to Ms. Lydia.” Then I turn to him and try not to smirk. “They really hit it off.”

  “What are you talking about?” asks the Virus.

  “Nothing.” I pull the mirrored doors half closed, so the Virus can’t see me when I change into my nightclothes. But then on a whim, I open them again so he can see me when I head into the bathroom to brush my teeth. Through the mirror I see him lean forward and stare at my behind.

  When I finally come out, he’s sitting on the velvet ottoman in the center of my dressing room. He pats the seat in front of him. “You look pretty with your hair pulled back like that,” he says to me, and for the slightest fraction of a second, I think it’s a compliment. But then the Virus adds, “I bet you could have done a great job selling soap.”

  “Get out, Virus.” I don’t bother to sit. Why does he have to be so mean?

  But the Virus doesn’t move one muscle. “My name’s not Virus. It’s Seth.”

  I want him to leave. I want him to leave so bad that my fingers clench into fists and I’m ready to fight. But part of me wants to sit on that ottoman. To forget this animosity and remember the taste of his lips crushed against mine.

  “Cal said—” I begin, but the Virus interrupts me.

  “My dad said what about me? That you should call me Virus?”

  “No,” I admit. “He said to call you Seth.”

  “And what else did my dad say?”

  I look at Seth lounging there, on my ottoman, in my room, saying every last thing he can to annoy me. He’s ink-covered and tech-infested, and he’s ruining my whole night! But Cal did say that I was supposed to talk to Seth.

  “Cal said that I’m supposed to engage in ordinary conversation with you whenever the situation warrants talking.”

  “Well then,” Seth says. “I have a situation that warrants conversing. Sit down, Soap-girl.”

  I take a seat on the edge of the ottoman as far away from him as possible and try to stay calm.

  “What do you want, Seth?”

  “Nothing.” He taps his foot and his leg jitters. “I wanted to talk to you, that’s all.”

  “We don’t have anything to say.”

  “That’s not true and you know it! Blanca, I thought—”

  “You thought what?”

  “I thought you liked me,” says Seth, his face looking pained. “I thought you were falling for me as hard as I was falling for you.”

  “Well, you thought wrong.” I only wish that were the truth. “Cal said I should do whatever I had to, so that’s what I did.”

  “Whatever you had to?” Seth runs his hand through his hair so it’s crazier than ever. Crazier in a good way. “Not wanted to?”

  “A Vestal would never want a Virus,” I say, willing it to be true. And I try not to remember. I try not to think about lying next to Seth with his arms around me, feeling his heart beat next to mine.

  Seth sits there, breathing heavily, like he’s fighting for some type of control.

  I’m fighting for control too. There’s something inside me, hurting.

  “I wonder if you know,” Seth finally says.

  “Know what?”

  “You’re costing him.” Seth says. “You’re costing my dad everything.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Your purchase price? Your crazy antics last month? They’re pulling my dad away from his business.”

  “What?” I’ve never given McNeal Solar Enterprises much thought.

  “So enough with this Vestal shit,” Seth says loudly. “Keep your Ms. Lydia away from my dad so he can concentrate on his business. That company means everything to him.”

  “Seth.” I reach out to his shoulder but he recoils from my touch. The missed contact burns. “I would never hurt your father. Never! Not on purpose, at least.”

  But Seth is already getting up to go. Right before he leaves, he turns and glares at me to get in one more jab.

  “You and your Vestal crap are ruining everything!”

  I sit on the ottoman, too upset to move. It takes me a while before I realize that I still haven’t locked the deadbolt. But then I see that wall of mirrors and I remember something.

  Seth may be wrong about practically everything, but he got one thing right. I’ve got a face that can sell soap.

  Selling clean energy should be equally easy.

  I’m going to be the face of McNeal Solar Enterprises and make things right.

  Chapter Ten

  Ms. Lydia’s tempo is grueling. Right hook, left hook, right jab, kick. She puts me through my paces this morning, like she has every day she’s been in town since the banquet. After Kenpō comes an hour of yoga. Then I’ll run around my courtyard like a lab rat for an hour. Only now nobody can see me, because Ms. Lydia insisted that Cal put shutters on the outside of the first-floor windows. I don’t know why that didn’t occur to me during crazy-month, but it didn’t. Now when I’m in the courtyard, I’m completely closed off.

  Ms. Lydia thinks me being the face of McNeal Solar is the best idea ever, and she helped me talk Cal into it one day when we were swimming in the manor’s indoor pool.

  “But we don’t do traditional advertisements,” Cal said, wading into the shallow end. “We rely on trade conventions.”

  “Don’t you want McNeal Solar to have a fresh, clean image?” Ms. Lydia sat perched on the edge of the pool wearing an ivory maillot.

  “Well, yes, but—”

  “And you want McNeal Solar to be seen as trustworthy, right?”

  “Yes, of course! But—”

  “Then you’ve got to use Blanca!” Ms. Lydia argued. “She’s your best asset, and you haven’t used her properly yet.”

  Cal winced. “I don’t want to use Blanca. I only want her to be happy.”

  “Well, she’ll never be happy. Not unless you give her a purpose. That’s what Vestals live for.” Ms. Lydia kicked the water with her dainty foot, making a small splash. “Vestals can sell anything. Give Blanca a chance, Calum. You’ll be amazed.”

  Cal still wasn’t convinced, so Ms. Lydia went at it from a different angle.

  “Calum,” she said, sliding into the water. “It would make me so happy too. It would give me the opportunity to be here all the time. I’ll coach Blanca every step of the way. Please let us do this for you.”

  “Fine.” Cal shrugged. “If this is what Blanca wants, I’ll say yes.”

  “Yes! It’s exactly what I want!” I bounded off the diving board and cannonballed into the water, splashing them both.

  “I can’t very well say no to both of you.” Cal laughed.

  And that was the moment it started. Ms. Lydia has become so tangled up with me and Cal and our lives together at the manor that it’s become harder and harder to tell where one of our lives starts and the other’s ends. She’s always here, watching over me, keeping me safe.

  “All this bread and butter!” she said at lunch one day. “You’re not going in front of the camera just yet, Blanca.”

  Hence my new regime. It was a month before the first photo shoot.

  Four hours a day of exercise and a strict fish-and-veggies diet. Cal’s been complaining a lot about my new meal plan, but it always gets smoothed over.

  Ms. Lydia’s worked on Cal so hard that she practically leads him around on a leash.

  “Calum, darling,” she told him, entwining her arms around him after a particularly Spartan dinner. “We like to be healthy. Don’t you want us to live a long time?”

  Of course Cal couldn’t argue with that. He was sneaking some whole-wheat bread into my diet when Ms. Lydia wasn’t looking, but now she’s here at the manor practically all the time.

  “Doesn’t it bother you, Calum, that there’s no place to be in this whole house that’s truly private?” I heard Ms. Lydia say to him one afternoon. “If there were some lead-lined walls, we could … ”

  As soon as I heard that, I made a beeline for my room. I try
not to think about what they might be doing together while I’m in the courtyard, running around in circles. It’s none of my business. But I’m ecstatic that Cal’s happy.

  And he is happy. Ridiculously so! I’ve never seen Cal smile so hard as he does when Ms. Lydia comes into a room. She’s like sunshine on his heart.

  The only bad thing is when the postal service comes with a letter for Ms. Lydia. Then she heads off for a couple of hours, or a couple of days. But she always comes back. When she does, Cal and I are both here waiting.

  It’s almost like we’re our own Vestal family.

  But I wish for Cal’s sake that Seth wasn’t such a troll. Since Ms. Lydia became part of things, Seth has pretty much stayed away. The one time Seth did show up for dinner, he and Ms. Lydia got into a huge fight over the proofs from my first photo shoot.

  It was a picture of me wearing white yoga pants, doing the Scorpion pose in front of the newest McNeal Solar Enterprise factory. I was balancing on my forearms with my feet up in the air, hanging above my head. It was all very Zen. There was a warm glow over the whole picture and a caption that read mcneal solar makes all things possible. ask for mcneal solar by name, just like blanca.

  “I can’t believe you’re letting the Vestals worm their way into your business!” Seth said to Cal, like Ms. Lydia wasn’t sitting right there at the table. We were eating grilled salmon and roasted Brussel sprouts.

  “Don’t be rude.” Cal smiled apologetically at Ms. Lydia. “Vestals are experts at advertising.”

  Seth pushed a Brussel sprout around his plate with his fork. “What does yoga have to do with solar energy anyway? That’s stupid!”

  “It’s not about yoga.” Ms. Lydia sat up straighter. “It’s about Blanca. She could be balancing a stack of dishes on her head, and it wouldn’t matter. People will buy whatever she sells.” Ms. Lydia was having a hard time staying placid. I could tell.

  “That’s crazy!” Seth turned to Cal. “What happened to giving Blanca her own life back?”

  “This is my life,” I said to Seth. “This is what I’ve always dreamed of. I’m going to be a traditional Vestal now.”