He was somewhat amused by it all, but as always, his unique vantage point provided him with some interesting insight which he shared.
“Catherine, this girl is going to cause you much trouble and strife.”
“But why? This is what I don’t understand. I only just met her – why does she act like she wants to be my friend, but say such horrible things to me?”
“What is it that your roommate calls those two?” he asked me cagily.
“The Ugly Stepsisters,” I chuckled.
“The word ‘ugly’ being the key to that phrase. She is ugly both inside and out. It doesn’t matter how tall or slender she is, or how fine her clothes are, or how long and lustrous her hair is…she consults the mirror and asks it ‘Who is the fairest of them all?’ and the mirror answers, ‘Catherine.’”
“Oh come on!” I laughed in protest.
But Stephano turned serious. “It’s true my Lady-love. She is threatened by you and so she wants to keep you under her control. I’ve been studying human nature for hundreds of years – I’ve learned a thing or two in my time.”
“But I’m not good enough by her standards. I don’t have an expensive handbag, I don’t wear make up, I don’t have the right clothes…”
“But but but, Catherine. Those things are merely a ruse to make you feel inferior. Even without them, you are still an exquisite beauty. Imagine if all her finery was taken away?” (I had to stifle a smile at him referring to Cheryl’s designer jeans as “finery”) “she’d be nothing. She’d look like any teenaged girl walking down the street. She’d blend in utterly. But you, my darling, are something quite remarkable all on your own,” and he leaned towards me and brushed his lips over mine and I could have died.
“I wish Margie would go away so you could come and fall asleep with me again,” I murmured as he nuzzled my neck. “I miss you all the time, but especially at night. I turn my pillow sideways and pretend it’s you.”
“I know, my love,” he said softly, “I think of you always. Don’t worry. The week will fly by and we’ll have the weekend, I promise.”
“I hope so. I hope Margie’s boyfriend is back and she goes to see him.”
“We’ll find a way.” He touched his lips to each of my eyelids in turn and sighed deeply as he drew back.
“Now listen to what I’m about to say to you, and remember it always in case I can’t be there. Those girls are going to bring you trouble and strife, especially the dominant one. But it will be nothing you can’t endure so long as you remain true to yourself and maintain your integrity. In the end she’ll be the architect of her own undoing. So keep your head held high and never sink to her level. Promise me?”
He was staring so intently into my eyes it was like he was examining my very soul.
“I promise,” I assured him.
“Now let’s do our stroll around and enjoy this garden while there are still flowers left to enjoy. And then it’s off to bed with you, for you have school in the morning!”
“Don’t talk like a dad!” I laughed as I tried to give him a swat. And we walked together arm in arm and I was very happy for the time being.
CHAPTER 11
I was filled with butterflies on the morning of the first day of school, partly out of anxiety and partly out of anticipation. I loved fresh notebooks and new pens and the clean slate that a new school year always offered. But I was nervous about what people would think of me and I was grateful that at least with everyone having to wear the same uniform that I wouldn’t be judged on my non-designer clothes.
My mother had ordered several of the uniforms for me over the summer: crisp white blouse in both long and short sleeves, plaid vest and/or cardigan to wear over top, navy blue blazer, and grey flannel pleated skirt and pants. On this morning, because it was still so warm, I opted for the skirt and blouse with cardigan.
Margie escorted me over to the Academic Hall and helped me find my first class, which was mathematics. I sat at the back of the class, and while some of the kids turned to look at me – “the new girl” – out of curiosity, nobody bothered to speak to me.
Next up was English Literature and I would have to find the classroom on my own. Fortunately it was nearby and I found it quickly and easily. I took another seat at the back of the room and watched the other students trickle in. To my horror, Cheryl and Janice came strolling in together talking and laughing. They both had their pleated skirts hiked up so as to make them into mini-skirts. I suddenly felt like a frump as I realized that mine skimmed my knee and I hoped that neither of them would notice.
“Catherine!” Cheryl exclaimed as she saw me.
I tried to look as happy and excited to see her as she seemed to be to see me.
“Hey!” I called out.
She bee lined for me and claimed the desk beside me as Janice settled in front of me.
“Yay! We have a class together! So exciting!” She seemed genuinely happy to see me and I had no idea how to feel about it. I was glad that she was happy, because so far the drama that ensued when she was unhappy was something I would have liked to have avoided at all costs for the rest of my life.
“Janice, this is Catherine. You guys saw each other in the dining hall the other day.” She introduced us without a trace of what had transpired that day.
“Hey,” Janice said evenly, eyeing me through her curtain of hair.
As slender as Cheryl and Lisa were, this girl made them look positively chubby in comparison. She was nothing but skin and bones and long, stick straight blonde hair with black eyes that accused me silently.
“Hey Janice, nice to meet you,” I tried to smile warmly, but I’m sure I failed.
“So weird,” Janice said in her voice that was like warm black coffee, “I saw a girl who looked almost exactly like you in Chad’s car the other night.” Her tone was rife with implication.
“Oh god, not that again. Let’s just forget it,” Cheryl said impatiently.
“Whatever.” Janice shrugged and turned her back on me.
“So what did you do all weekend?” Cheryl was grinning at me from ear to ear as if we were best friends who had just been reunited after a long separation.
“Not much,” I answered honestly. “Just hung out with Margie and went to the library. Read some books.”
Cheryl laughed. “Well don’t worry, sugar pie! We’ll make sure your life gets a little more exciting than that from here on in!”
Just what I dreaded, I thought.
“How are you?” I whispered. “Did you talk to Chad?” I asked with sincere concern.
“Nope. He’s ignoring me – but I don’t want to talk about it,” she dismissed the subject.
At that moment the teacher arrived and the class commenced. I was thrilled to learn that the first novel we would be reading would be Jane Eyre! I already knew it backwards and forwards, so the actual reading of it was taken care of, and I could easily have written a zillion essays off the top of my head!
As the texts were handed out my pleasure must have showed on my face because a little paper missile shot across my desk from Cheryl. I unfolded it and read, What’s with the goofy grin? Are you wearing electric underpants?
I started to laugh out loud but was able to disguise it as a cough. A few people turned around to look. I wrote back to Cheryl, No. This is my favorite book in the whole world.
Cheryl read my response and made a mock crazy face at me. She scribbled something down and shot the note back across.
Great. You can explain the movie to me, it said.
I nearly started laughing again and then another note came my way. It said, Who reads books for FUN? We definitely need to get you a life!
I just shrugged and smiled. I actually knew she meant it good-naturedly and I felt heartened.
When the bell rang, Cheryl was eager to know if we had any other classes together.
“I’ve got Social Studies next,” I said, “And then Italian and Art this afternoon.”
“Italian? H
ow are you supposed to help me with my French homework if you’re taking Italian?” Cheryl joked.
“I know a little French already – I might be able to help you anyway!” I suggested.
“Good! After the next period it’s lunch, so meet in the dining hall in the back corner near the big windows,” she called out as she tripped down the hallway in the opposite direction from me.
She gave me no chance to object, but I had been hoping to linger around the rose garden to see if Stefano might appear. Lunch periods might be my only chance to see him now until the weekend.
Nothing terribly eventful happened for the rest of the morning. Lisa was in my Art class, and although she came and sat next to me, she barely spoke to me, which was frankly a relief. I walked with her back to the dining hall and had lunch with her and Cheryl without too much incident – there was a little bit of commentary on what I was eating, but I think we had established that as a non-model citizen I didn’t need to watch my starch and carb intake like they did and they would pretend as hard as they could that they didn’t notice. It was like I was from a foreign culture and they would deign to overlook my peculiar, repugnant eating habits out of politeness. I think the real problem is that when they saw me eating dessert, it made them want dessert and it was a struggle for them to resist.
Things got interesting in the afternoon, however. It turned out that Chad was in my Italian class.
I entered the classroom thinking that I’d head for the back and take my habitual seat there, but someone had beaten me to it this time.
“Chad. How are you?” I said, surprised to see him.
“Oh hey Catherine. I’m good, how are you?” he stood up when he saw me and sat down again when I had taken the seat beside him.
“Have you studied Italian before?” he asked me.
“No, I haven’t. I was taking French before. In my old school, I mean.”
“Me neither. I could have had a spare in this period, but I decided to take Italian because I want to travel through the country in my year off.”
“Year off?” I questioned.
“Yeah – I thought I’d take a year off between high school and university. To have time to really think about what I’d like to do,” he explained.
“Oh, that’s really cool. And you want to go to Italy?” I asked.
“Yeah – well Italy and England, but I already know how to speak the language in England,” he joked. “I dunno,” he seemed a little shy now. “I thought it would be cool to go some places and look at cool old buildings and castles and architecture and stuff. So I thought England and Italy.”
“No, that sounds amazing,” I enthused. “I would love to do that! Italy is like a treasure chest full of art and architecture and history! I’m dying to get there myself one day!” I said, thinking of Stefano.
“Oh yeah?” he said. He stopped then and his face changed. “Listen, I’m really sorry about the other day…”
“No no – don’t be sorry. It wasn’t your fault at all. I was terrified – I didn’t know what Cheryl had already said to you and I didn’t know what you were going to say…”
“Well she tried to trick me into admitting it – you should have read the text she sent me to get me to come up to her dorm in the first place – but when I saw how the three of you guys were sitting there and I could tell that you were almost in tears…let’s say I’m used to Cheryl and her little games and I’m on to her. You, on the other hand, I had an agreement with you and I figured you’d stick to it.”
I nodded.
“I figured the same of you.”
“If you don’t mind me saying, I don’t really think you should hang out with her. She’s a bit of a control freak, shall we say. And she has a lot of issues. She might be the most popular girl in the school, but she’s definitely not the nicest,” he observed.
“I’m rapidly figuring that out. But we live in the same hallway – I kind of have to keep on friendly terms with her. There’s no point in being antagonistic – we all have to live together. I just want to keep the peace,” I explained.
Chad mulled over what I had said.
“No, you’re right. That’s very smart of you.” Then he added, “Keep your friends close, your enemies closer.”
And before the conversation could go any farther, the teacher came in and the class began.
It was a short class – the teacher took the roll and we went around the room introducing ourselves in Italian. Then he handed out the textbooks and assigned us some reading and we were dismissed.
As we walked out of the classroom together Chad said to me, “Oh hey, if you’re still interested in writing for the school newspaper we’re having a meeting on Thursday to plan the first issue.”
“Oh really? Yeah, sure, I’d love to come.”
I was pleased and flattered that he’d remembered our conversation.
“Great. Do you know where the newspaper office is? In the admin building? Meet there at three thirty,” he said as he ducked away and hurried off down the hall.
“Great!” I called out after him.
I felt very happy – at least someone thought I was cool enough and good enough to have invited me to join a club that I’m sure not everyone was invited to join. But then it dawned on me that I’d have to tell Cheryl about being in a class with Chad, and working on the school paper with Chad and the happiness was replaced by a knot of anxiety.
Early that evening back at the dorms, we were all called to assemble in the common room. There were all the girls from my hallway as well as the hall that ran down in the opposite direction from the common room and the elevators. I couldn’t believe how many girls there were on this one floor. All of them together in one space laughing and talking and joking together created quite a cacophony.
“Alright! Quiet down now!” A woman I recognized from the office downstairs was leading this meeting.
“Welcome back to Brandenhurst!” she said to overwhelming hoots and hollers. “And if this is your first time here, well, welcome! We have a few new girls joining us this semester, so I hope you’ll go out of your way to make them feel at home.”
“YEAH, CATHERINE!” Cheryl shouted in the space after the woman had finished her sentence.
I turned red as a beet and glared at her as everyone turned to look.
But Cheryl was grinning at me from ear to ear and elbowing me in the ribs.
“I take it you’re one of our new girls – welcome to Brandenhurst,” the woman leading the group acknowledged the interruption – and me - kindly and continued with her spiel.
We were told the rules of the dorms. On school nights there was an eleven pm curfew, after which the front entrance could only be opened by ringing the buzzer and having the night supervisor allow you into the building. However, the night supervisor would report your transgression to the school principal and punishments would be meted out accordingly. She announced a new policy this year: on weekends, there would be no curfew enforced, but only because the school had learned that students would simply stay out all night to avoid earning demerits. The announcement was greeted with cheers.
We took care of the business of electing Floor Deputies and we were informed about the traditional fall dance to be held a week Friday. Volunteers were being recruited to help decorate and plan the party, which was to be held in the gymnasium a week Friday.
“That gives us next weekend to find some booze for the party,” Cheryl whispered conspiratorially in my ear.
When the meeting was done, Margie took off almost immediately, but most of the girls stuck around mingling and getting reacquainted with each other. I figured it was a perfect time to tell Cheryl about me and Chad having a class together; after all, how badly could she freak out with dozens of other girls around?
I waited patiently for my opportunity. It was difficult, because it seemed like every girl was eager to come up to Cheryl and greet her with a hug and tell her how wonderful she looked. She had a great big bright smile f
or every one of them and you would have thought she was every single girl’s best friend in the world. She exuded warmth and charm and it was easy to see that she was indeed the most popular girl in the school. I finally saw my chance and sidled up to her as one girl seemed to be on the verge of leaving.
“Hey, guess what?” I said as if I held some juicy gossipy secret she’d be interested in hearing, “I found out this afternoon I have a class with Chad.”
“What? Chad? What did you say?” Distracted as she was by her role of Miss Congeniality, she had not heard a word I said until I had made the “Chad” sound.
“I said Chad is in my Italian class.”
“What? That doesn’t make any sense. He’s a year ahead of us,” she frowned at me.
“He said he was taking it instead of a spare. I guess he’s never taken it before either, so he’s in the introductory class like me.”
“Did he say that to you? Were you talking to him?” she asked me, looking increasingly distressed.
“Yeah, we chatted a bit before the class started. Nothing major,” I tried to say nonchalantly.
“Oh. Well, I don’t think you should really talk to him considering how he treated me,” she snapped.
I hesitated. It was tricky to know what I could say that would smooth this situation out instead of escalating it.
“Oh, Cheryl. You guys aren’t going to be fighting forever.” I tried to sound soothing. “If I shun him now, how awkward is it going to be when you guys make up? Plus, if I’m on good terms with him, I might be able to help facilitate some communication between the two of you?” I looked at her hopefully. That is to say, full of hope that she wouldn’t have a temper tantrum.
She stared at me for what seemed like a full minute, mouth slightly agape. “You know, if it was the other way around, and it was your ex-boyfriend, I wouldn’t even look at him, let alone talk to him.”
She had murder in her eye now and I was going to have to think awfully fast.
“Cheryl, I’m sorry,” I pleaded. “The thing is, I really want to write for the school newspaper and somebody told me that he was the editor this year. I can’t be rude to him, no matter how much I would like to be.”
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