The Darlings Are Forever

by Melissa Kantor

  Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. To Natalya’s amazement, her malfunctioning brain managed to form language. “No, he…I mean we didn’t…We didn’t talk at all.”

  “Let me guess,” Morgan continued. “He was playing chess.”

  Natalya spoke quickly. “I don’t remember.”

  Morgan dropped her head against the back of the sofa. “And he was wearing a shirt that said ‘Han Solo shot first.’”

  “No he wasn’t.” Natalya answered immediately. Then she added, “I mean, I didn’t notice.”

  “Why am I related to such a gigantic loser?” Morgan asked the ceiling.

  “I don’t have anything against the movie star thing,” said Katrina. “But what about this—Playboy Bunnies.” She ran her hands down her sides. “Tight, tight black top, fishnets, high heels, bunny ears.”

  “Um, slutty much?” Morgan said, and they laughed. Then Morgan turned to Natalya. “You and George are going to be a super-cute couple. We’ll find out what he’s going as and figure out something good for you to wear.”

  “I don’t know.” Natalya felt dizzy. “He might not even want to go with me.” She had to be alone. She had to get out of there.

  Morgan rolled her eyes. “He texted me about you. In guy-speak, that’s basically a declaration of love. Plus, you two have that whole Russian thing going.” She smacked her lips together to make a kissing sound.

  Standing up, Natalya announced, “I have to go to the bathroom.” Her voice was nearly a shout.

  “Chill,” said Morgan, making a face. “No one’s stopping you. And when you get back…” She waved her phone in the air. “We will compose an appropriate reply. Oooh, maybe it should be in Russian.”

  “Sure,” said Natalya. “Sure.” She practically ran out of the room, but not before she heard Katrina speak.

  “Colin,” snorted Katrina. “How are you and Grant even related to that guy?”

  “Please,” said Morgan. “Don’t remind me.”

  ALL WEEKEND, VICTORIA had felt different somehow. She remembered Natalya’s word: sparkly. That was it. She felt sparkly. She’d snuck out to a cool party at a swanky mansion and she hadn’t gotten caught. Why?

  Because she was so sparkly.

  Lately she’d been feeling the opposite of sparkly. And it wasn’t just because, with the election getting closer, her parents were tense and snappish. She’d told Jane and Natalya she didn’t like Jack anymore, but it wasn’t as simple as that. She still liked him. She still thought about him a lot. Only now, every time she thought about him, she thought about how he’d taken those pictures, and she felt awful. She hated how looking at Jack made her feel—as if she had something to be ashamed of, and as if that something was liking him.

  Not that it even mattered. Ever since she’d blown up at him in Dean Gordon’s office, he hadn’t so much as glanced in her direction. They’d pass each other in the hall or on the way into or out of Bio, and neither of them would acknowledge the other.

  But while she was getting dressed for school Monday morning, she hadn’t even thought about Jack. She’d spied the FOXY LADY T-shirt at the bottom of her drawer and started singing Fox-y La-dy to herself. Fox-y La-dy.

  “That’s right,” she whispered. “I’m a foxy lady.”

  And without thinking about what she was doing, she’d pulled the T-shirt out of the pile and slipped it over her head, still singing to herself as she strolled out of her apartment building and into the warm October day.

  The sparkly feeling hadn’t diminished as the day went on. In homeroom, Mr. Frank had announced the upcoming meeting of the Morningside Baking Club. Then he’d lifted his eyes and looked toward Victoria. “There she is, if anyone has any questions.” A few people looked Victoria’s way, which normally would have terrified her into a coma. But whether it was because of the T-shirt or the party, Victoria had just smiled and nodded.

  When she got to French, Victoria saw Maeve sitting at the back of the room, an empty chair besides her. Had she really been afraid to talk to some random girl in her class?

  Why would anyone be afraid to do that?

  Victoria made her way to the back of the room, dropped her bag over the back of the chair, and sat down. “Hi.”

  Maeve looked startled by Victoria’s greeting. “Oh, hi.” Her voice was quiet, and she didn’t look at Victoria. There was a pause, during which Maeve toyed with the spiral binder of her notebook. “I heard about that baking club you’re starting. I really like baking.”

  Victoria could see the blush on Maeve’s cheeks.

  “You should come,” Victoria said. Her voice was confident. To her own ears she sounded like the kind of person who would have the courage to start a club.

  Which, when you thought about it, was exactly what she was.

  Maeve turned to face Victoria just as Madame Desbonnet walked into the room, clapping her hands to get their attention. “Bonjour, class! Bonjour.”

  “I think I will,” said Maeve. She smiled at Victoria, and Victoria smiled back.

  She and Maeve walked out of class together, and when they got to the hallway, Victoria turned and asked if Maeve wanted to meet at Rick’s for lunch tomorrow.

  “Um, sure,” answered Maeve, and the happy smile she gave Victoria wasn’t nearly as shy as her earlier ones had been. “Okay. Great.”

  Victoria was practically strutting as she walked along the hall, then headed toward the lobby and the main stairs to get to history. It was pretty cool, hearing her baking club announced, making a lunch plan with Maeve.

  Halfway to the main stairs, she saw Jack, and all at once her sparkly feeling disappeared, as if she were a match that had been held under running water.

  Jack high-fived the guy he’d been talking to, then turned and crossed the lobby in Victoria’s general direction. She stood stock still. Was he coming toward her? Or was he simply crossing the lobby? It wasn’t like he couldn’t cross the lobby just because she happened to be standing in the middle of it.

  Right as she decided either he hadn’t seen her or he was purposely pretending he hadn’t seen her, Jack shook the hair off his forehead and stared straight into her eyes. Then he changed his course slightly so he was headed right for her.

  Victoria could feel her heart stop beating.

  “Can I talk to you?” he asked, arriving next to the spot where she was standing.

  Victoria was sure she’d misheard him. “Me?”

  He frowned slightly as he tried to make out the writing on her chest. “Foxy Lady.” As soon as he’d read the words out loud, he looked away, like he was embarrassed to have deciphered them. Then he shifted his weight uneasily from one foot to the other, finally raising his eyes to meet hers. “I just wanted to tell you. I’m not running the photos.”

  He wasn’t…“Wait, what?”

  “I’m not running the pictures,” he repeated. “Because…well…” He took a deep breath and spoke the rest of his sentence in a rush. “Because this girl I know told me it was really uncool.”

  “Seriously?” she asked, amazed. “Just because I told you not to run the photos, you didn’t?” The sparkly feeling she’d had all morning came back a million times stronger than ever. She could practically hear herself bursting into glorious flame.

  Jack hesitated, then admitted, “It wasn’t just you. It was kind of a combination of you and my mom.” He laughed.

  “Your mom?” Victoria found herself laughing too.

  He nodded and spread his hands wide as if to say, What can you do? “Well, it’s like this. After you made it clear you thought I was the meanest person who ever—”

  “Hey! I never said—” Victoria objected.

  “—lived,” he finished. “I took your opinion under advisement, as I said I would. When I told my mom about it, she said you were right.” He moved his backpack to his other shoulder. “So. I couldn’t, you know, fight you and my mom.”

  Suddenly Victoria felt lighter than air. Jack wasn’t a mean person. Jack was a nic
e person. Jack was a nice person who didn’t think she was a humorless drip. He was a nice person who didn’t think she was a humorless drip, and who she—

  “Condoms, get your free condoms!”

  Both Victoria and Jack jerked their heads in the direction of the voice. She’d been so focused on their conversation that she hadn’t noticed that the lobby where they were standing was ground zero for Safe Sex Week. Looking up, Victoria was greeted by a wall of Technicolor, homemade signs. SAFE SEX=GOOD SEX! NO PROTECTION? NO THANKS!

  Noticing where she was looking, Jack read the signs, then looked back at her.

  “Look, Victoria, we hardly know each other, okay? I’m really not ready for a step like that.”

  Instead of being embarrassed, Victoria found herself laughing. Across the lobby, a guy who was holding a banana gave the thumbs-up to his friend, and a second later, there was the flash of a camera.

  A girl Victoria didn’t know approached her and Jack. In one hand she had a condom package, in the other a banana. She held the banana out to Victoria. “It’s very important that teens know how to use condoms. Used correctly, they can prevent the spread of pregnancy and STDs, including AIDS.” From the girl’s matter-of-fact tone, she could have been discussing the importance of a liberal arts education or higher literacy rates in the third world. She placed the banana in Victoria’s hand. “There’s really nothing to it.”

  Okay, it was one thing to sneak out to a party with your friends or to wear a T-shirt that said you were foxy. But this? “I…”

  Jack put his hand on Victoria’s shoulder. “I think Victoria’s going to take a pass,” he told the girl.

  Jack had just touched her.

  “Um, I think she can speak for herself.” The girl put a condom in Victoria’s hand and gave her a significant look. Then she lowered her voice. “You should never let your boyfriend pressure you to do anything you don’t want to do. You know that, right?”

  This girl thought Jack was her boyfriend? Did they look like a couple?

  “Speaking of pressure…” Jack began to interrupt.

  “No means no!” the girl said firmly. “Look, there’s nothing to it.”

  Victoria and Jack stood watching silently as the girl expertly opened the condom wrapper and slipped the condom out. Then she slid it onto the banana, placed the condom-clad banana in Victoria’s hand, and stepped back to admire her work.

  “Now, wasn’t that easy?” The pride she took in the lesson she’d given Victoria was evident. “Now you try it!” She slipped the condom off the banana and dropped it into a baggy safety-pinned to her waist.

  Victoria knew she was going to pass out. Literally. She was going to lose consciousness, fall to the floor, and die of a concussion.

  At least, she hoped she was.

  “Here,” said Jack, reaching for the banana with one hand and the condom with the other. He handed the banana to Victoria, whose fingers automatically closed around it. Then he began wrestling with the condom wrapper. A long minute passed during which he seemed to be making little or no progress.

  Once again it was impossible not to laugh. “Here,” said Victoria. “You hold this.” She handed him the banana, then took the condom from him. The package was small and slippery, and she immediately dropped it.

  “Nice,” Jack said. “Very nice.”

  The girl sighed impatiently and handed Victoria another condom. “Here.”

  Jack slipped the banana under his arm and held the condom package. “You rip. I’ll hold.”

  Victoria knew she should be embarrassed. She was standing with her crush, trying to tear the condom package that he was holding for her while Attila the Hun scowled at them. But she didn’t feel embarrassed. She felt excited. She felt…exhilarated. She was here with Jack and he was so cute and he’d changed his mind about running the photos because of something she’d said. Life was so impossibly good.

  How could she not laugh?

  “I’m glad you think this is funny,” Jack said, but he was laughing too.

  When she felt the small preformed tear in the condom package split across the entire top, Victoria was pretty sure she’d never been so relieved in her life.

  “We did it!” she shouted excitedly.

  “You did it,” Jack corrected. He handed the banana to Victoria, then took the slippery condom from her and rolled it on. “Voilà!”

  Jack gave her a thumbs-up, and together they held the banana out toward the girl. Victoria realized she was grinning from ear to ear, and when the girl took the banana from their hands, she turned to Jack and held up her hand. “High five!” she said.

  He slapped her palm with his. “High five.”

  They stood there smiling at each other, as if they’d just accomplished something monumental. The warning bell rang.

  Jack looked down at her and grinned knowingly. “And here I thought all you did was bake.” With that, he gave her a wink. “Later, foxy lady.”

  She nodded, then watched him sail out of the lobby and down the stairs. She loved him. She loved him. SHE LOVED HIM!!! She was still watching the spot where he’d been when her phone buzzed urgently. She took it out of her bag and read the text from Natalya.

  I have 2 talk 2 u guys right after school. Emergency!

  “DID THIS WORK? Are you there?” asked Natalya. She was sitting at her desk in her room, her back so rigid it didn’t even touch the chair she was on.

  “I’m here,” answered Victoria. She tucked the phone more firmly under her chin and whisked together dry ingredients that would become the cake batter. She was considering making angel food cake at her first meeting with the baking club.

  “Me too,” said Jane, sitting cross-legged on her bed. “I’m sorry I couldn’t talk before. I was at rehearsal. What’s the emergency?”

  Natalya took a deep breath. “Okay, remember how I said I like Morgan’s brother?”

  “Oh my god, he likes you too!” In her excitement, Victoria dropped the whisk. “We’re both in—”

  “No!” Natalya yelled. “No. He doesn’t like me. And I don’t like him.”

  “You don’t?” asked Jane. “I thought you did.”

  “I was wrong.” Natalya’s voice was emphatic.

  “You were wrong?” Jane repeated.

  “Did something happen?” asked Victoria, digging the whisk out of the bowl.

  Natalya closed her eyes and leaned back against the chair. “He’s a total dork.”

  “He is?” Victoria was confused. “How do you know?

  Natalya hesitated for a second, then admitted simply, “Morgan told me.”

  The words were hardly out of Natalya’s mouth before Jane snapped, “Morgan told you?”

  “Will you stop repeating everything I say?” Natalya demanded, leaping to her feet indignantly. “Yes, Morgan told me, okay?”

  “How does Morgan know?” asked Jane, and it was possible to hear in her voice the sound of her eyebrows rising.

  “She lives with him, Jane.” Natalya’s voice was impatient. “Of course she knows.”

  No one spoke. Finally Victoria announced, “Well, if you don’t like him, you don’t like him.”

  Jane cut in. “I can’t believe I’m hearing this. Nat likes him, Vicks. She just doesn’t want to do anything to make Princess Morgan mad.”

  “Hey!” snapped Natalya.

  “Jane,” warned Victoria. There was another silence. Victoria wiped her hands on her apron.

  “I should go,” said Natalya, sitting back down and staring at her assignment pad without really seeing it. “I’ve got a ton of work.”

  “No, wait!” Victoria pleaded. “Guys, don’t fight about this.”

  “No one’s fighting,” insisted Jane.

  There was a long silence, and finally Victoria said, “Well, apparently no one’s talking either.”

  “We’ve all got a lot of work, Vicks,” Jane assured her. “That’s all. I’ll call you guys later, okay?”

  “Jane…” Victoria began.<
br />
  “It’s true,” Natalya agreed. “I have to go too.”

  A second later, Victoria still had her phone pressed to her ear, but no one else was on the line.

  MR. ROBBINS HADN’T BEEN kidding when he’d said their rehearsal schedule was going to be insane. As opening night drew closer, Jane barely had time to do her homework and go to class, much less call her dad every few days and grab an occasional quick sushi dinner with her mom. She was being honest when she told Victoria and Natalya that she was crazy busy, but she wasn’t telling the whole truth.

  All the two of them ever wanted to talk about was the upcoming costume gala and how exciting it was going to be and what they were going to wear. They thought she was bored by their conversations because the party was at the same time as the Midsummer dress rehearsal, and so she couldn’t go. But that wasn’t the reason. She was glad she couldn’t go to the party. And not just because Natalya’s new friends had totally ignored her.

  Natalya was being so…different lately. Pretending not to like some guy she really liked just because Morgan Prewitt said he was a dork. She’d practically made Jane and Victoria swear a blood oath never to utter the word Colin. In eighth grade history class, their teacher had been obsessed with how fascist regimes erased and rewrote historical events. They can make it as if history never happened.

  Maybe she was exaggerating, but Jane felt as though Natalya were totally being that way.

  Victoria, too. All she seemed to care about was being “sparkly.” It was so weird and boring. They acted like Jane should be heartbroken because she had to go to rehearsal and couldn’t go to some stupid party, when really she’d much rather spend a Saturday night working. Theater was what she loved. Theater was going to be her life.

  Mr. Robbins had helped her to see that if you wanted to be an actor, you had to be serious. When people were late or missed rehearsal or hadn’t memorized their lines or goofed off instead of focusing, he always asked them the same question: Are you serious about acting or aren’t you?

  Jane was serious.

  The Wednesday before Saturday’s dress rehearsal, Jane’s last-period class was canceled, and she headed across the street to Starbucks to grab a coffee, thinking about Mr. Robbins. Lately she thought about him a lot.