“There’s nothing wrong with baking,” Victoria snapped. “And it wasn’t…I mean, I didn’t even want to go to the party.” She lay back down and gathered the edge of her comforter, making tiny folds with the fabric.
“What?” Emily looked bewildered.
“I kind of…I mean, it was Natalya’s friend’s thing, and she wanted to go.”
“You’ve lost me.” Emily leaned back, away from Victoria.
“I kind of couldn’t say no, so I went.” She lifted her eyes to look at her sister.
Emily was staring at her as if she were a complete stranger. Worse than that, as if she were a complete stranger with some horrible communicable disease. “You’re saying they made you go.”
Her parents had uttered almost that exact same sentence just yesterday, but coming from them, it had sounded like a statement of fact. Now it sounded like an accusation.
Victoria remained silent, holding her sister’s stare. She wished Emily would just go already. Didn’t she live in New Jersey now?
But Emily showed no sign of leaving. “Let me get this straight. Jane and Natalya forced you, against your will, to get dressed up in my clothes and go to a party that you did not want to attend?”
“Nobody said forced,” Victoria corrected her quickly.
“Oh, I’m sorry, what was your word choice again?” Emily put her finger to her chin and mimed thinking deeply about something.
Victoria squirmed away from her and stepped off the bed. It was bad enough having her sister talk to her this way; she didn’t have to take it lying down. “What’s your point, Emily?”
Ignoring her, Emily continued. “And, correct me if I’m wrong, but I didn’t think Natalya or Jane went to Morningside. Did they show up there one morning, force you to wear a really tacky T-shirt, then hold a gun to your head while you put a condom on a banana with your friend Mr. Sexy Bangs?”
Had Victoria just called Jack sexy? Victoria almost wanted to ask what she meant by sexy bangs. But the last thing she needed if she was going to win this argument was a distracting tangent. “I didn’t say gunpoint and I didn’t say forced,” Victoria reminded Emily. “God, why do you have to be so dramatic?”
“I’m dramatic? I’m dramatic?! ” Emily got to her feet. “Who’s the one being all”—she made her voice high-pitched and whiny—“Oh, Mommy, oh, Daddy, poor little me. I’m so helpless. I couldn’t stop them. I’m just so sweet and nice and kind that people just walk all over me. I have no will of my own. I couldn’t possibly be to blame.”
“I didn’t say any of that, and I don’t sound like that!” Victoria was screaming.
For a second, Emily didn’t speak, just stood there glaring at her sister. “Do you realize that when I saw that paper I was actually proud of you?” She laughed briefly, then her voice grew serious again. “Well, I was sorry for you, too. It sucks that they printed that picture. But I mostly thought, It’s about time my sister became an actual person.” She shook her head slowly. “You always criticize me for talking too much, but at least I take responsibility for what I say, and at least I take responsibility when I screw up. You stand there in your apron, holding your little plate of cookies and being all innocent, and then when you finally do do something, instead of owning it, you pretend it’s all someone else’s fault.”
Victoria was so shocked, she couldn’t think of anything to say. She opened her mouth, but no words came out.
Emily waited a second, then said, “I came home because I wanted to offer you some support.” She snorted at the absurdity of her plan, then spun around on one heel and walked across the room. “If I’d known you were such a coward, I would have stayed at Princeton.”
With that, she stepped into the hallway and pulled the door shut behind her. Victoria stood where she was, staring at the empty space where her sister had just been, not even realizing her mouth was still open, as if she were just about to deliver a response.
JANE COULDN’T LOCATE the exact moment when her plan crystallized. All she knew was that one minute she was one hundred percent engaged in the dress rehearsal, feeling every missed line and cue as if it were her own, and the next she was only thinking about how, when rehearsal ended, it would be night, a Saturday night, and she and Mr. Robbins would both be in the auditorium.
And if she played her cards right, they would be in the auditorium alone.
It was a bad dress rehearsal. People botched lines. Fairy skirts split up the side. Props weren’t where they were supposed to be. Lights dimmed and glowed randomly, casting bright sun over nighttime scenes and bathing the midday wedding of Hippolyta and Theseus in soft moonlight. Musical cues came and went with no relationship to the scenes being acted.
By the time the exhausted cast gathered onstage after the show, even Mr. Robbins couldn’t seem to find the words to comfort them. He smiled ruefully at the group huddled on the floor around him.
“Well, that pretty much sucked,” he said, and everyone managed a laugh. “Look, guys, I know you’re all disappointed that tonight didn’t go more smoothly. But I saw a lot of great stuff—you connected to each other, you spoke your words from a real and powerful place. And that’s not nothing. Everything else, I’m not so worried about.”
“Sure you are, Len,” Fran called from the edge of the group.
He nodded and smiled again. “Okay, I’m a little worried.” Another ripple of nervous laughter. “But I believe in this cast. I believe in you. So go home—and I mean it—don’t go out partying with your friends. We’re all counting on you to be healthy and well-rested come opening night.
“Call Monday is four o’clock for makeup and wardrobe. I’ll give you my notes then. And you can be proud of the work you did tonight. All of you.”
Jane barely registered the funereal quiet of the dressing room, the hushed conversations taking place around her. She watched grim-faced fairies, courtiers, and lovers hurry to get out of their costumes and into their street clothes, and she knew the expression on her face was nothing like the expressions on theirs. They were disappointed, despondent.
She was determined.
Everyone was moving so fast that no one had time to notice Jane moving so slowly. The advantage of having sat alone at rehearsals recently was that there was no one waiting for her tonight. Lots of people gave her a wave good-bye or said, ’Night, Jane, but they all left without her.
By the time she’d hung her costume on the rack, almost everyone was gone. Now Mr. Robbins was standing in the center aisle talking to Jay. Jane watched from the wings, biting her lip as Mr. Robbins clapped him on the back. “Don’t worry so much. Get some shut-eye. See you Monday.” Jay walked toward the exit, and Mr. Robbins came to the front of the auditorium and grabbed his bag. He didn’t see Jane, and she watched him as he rubbed his forehead with his thumb and forefinger, looking more tired than Jane had ever seen anyone look before.
“Hey.” She stepped into the light. Her heart was pounding—she was about to improvise the most important scene of her life.
“Oh hey. Hey, Jane.” As soon as he saw her, his expression changed, as though he didn’t want her to know how tired he’d been.
Or as though now that they were alone together, he wasn’t tired anymore.
She walked to the edge of the stage and sat, legs hanging down. “You don’t have to put on a happy face for me.”
He made his lips into a deep frown, and they both laughed.
“No,” he said. “It’ll be okay. Dress rehearsals are always like this.” He tapped her knee for emphasis.
It was like being struck by lightning. An electric current surged up her leg from the spot where his fingers had touched her. Without letting herself think about what she was doing, she placed her hand on his.
He didn’t take his hand away. They stayed like that for a long beat. The only thing in the world Jane was conscious of was how loud and fast her heart was pounding.
We’re holding hands. We’re holding hands. We’re alone in the school and
it’s a Saturday night and we’re holding hands.
And then Jane did what she was afraid to do.
“You could probably use a back rub,” she said. She used her hand to pull him around gently, then rubbed his shoulders like all the other kids always did at rehearsals.
Only it wasn’t like all the other kids at rehearsals. Because he wasn’t a kid.
She rubbed his shoulders in silence for a minute, amazed that this was really happening. She was really here with him. She was really going to…
What? What was she really going to do?
Should she make the first move? Hadn’t she kind of already made the first move by offering him a back rub? But what if he was afraid to say something definite, afraid that he’d misunderstood her cues, afraid that he would get fired. She rubbed the back of his neck, which was really tense.
It was definitely up to her to make it clear that they wanted the same thing.
She inhaled deeply. Do it. Do it. Do it now.
He turned around, gently taking her hands from his neck. “Jane, I hope you—”
But she was already speaking. “Do you want to go…I don’t know, get a glass of wine somewhere?”
There was a moment while each one heard what the other had said.
A horrible moment.
The most horrible moment of her life.
Mr. Robbins was looking at her, his expression a mixture of pity and embarrassment. “Jane, you are such a talented actress and such an asset to this cast. I’m so sorry if I’ve misled you in some way.” He was looking at her and smiling sadly.
“I…” Her voice was quivery. She tried to fake a laugh, like the sentence she’d just uttered had been a joke, but the sound froze in her throat.
“Here, I’ll walk you out,” Mr. Robbins offered. His voice was cool. Professional. “If you’d like, I can hail you a cab since it’s so late.”
Jane leaped to her feet. “No!” She hadn’t meant to shout, hadn’t realized her voice would even work. “I mean, I’m fine.”
“Of course you are.” He bent down to pick up his bag. “Why wouldn’t you be?”
How was this possible? How was this happening? He’d said she was sexy. He’d given her that loving look the day he was directing Theseus. Earlier tonight he’d pulled her aside to talk to her. She hadn’t imagined all of that. She hadn’t!
Four years. She had to be at the Academy with Mr. Robbins for four years. Four years during which they would both know this conversation had taken place. Every time he looked at her, every time she looked at him, every time someone so much as mentioned his name, she would know she had made a complete and utter fool of herself after the dress rehearsal for A Midsummer Night’s Dream.
He looked at her, waiting for her to say something. But what could she say?
“I’ll see you Monday,” she choked out.
And then she ran up the aisle of the theater, refusing to let herself look back.
NATALYA AND COLIN sped along the balcony.
“Where are you taking me?” she asked, laughing. There was something exciting about racing through a museum at night, as if they were international art thieves or maybe detectives pursuing international art thieves.
“You’ll see.” He glanced back at her, his mackintosh and deerstalker cap making it clear that he was Sherlock Holmes. “Five minutes. I promise.”
She wondered if she’d even be able to find her way back. As one gallery led to another, she sincerely doubted she’d remember that the Assyrian exhibit led to the back staircase that let out into the long hallway that led to the room with the enormous, wall-to-wall gold-and-iron gate. Besides, hadn’t Morgan said something about how they were all going to head to the American Wing? She didn’t have any idea where the American Wing was.
Colin finally pulled open a set of double glass doors and pulled her into a narrow room filled with knights, lances, horses covered in armor, and thick, rich tapestries. The room flickered in low light—it felt as if they were truly in a medieval castle.
A guy wearing a Dracula costume and holding a clipboard was talking to a girl dressed as an ice skater who had her hand on the arm of a guy who was wearing green scrubs. Dracula made a note on a piece of paper, then said, “Now you need to get an Elvis.” The girl let go of the doctor and sped out through the doors Colin and Natalya had just entered.
“Oh!” Colin snapped his fingers and turned to her. “By the way, you’re a—”
“Whatcha got, Sherlock?” Dracula called in their direction.
Colin pulled her close and whispered, “It’s a scavenger hunt. I had to find someone dressed as a doctor.”
“But I’m not—” Natalya protested, panicky.
“Dr. Petrova,” said Colin to Dracula. He pushed Natalya gently toward the vampire.
Dracula looked Natalya up and down, lingering on her white coat. “You’re a doctor?” His expression was one of extreme doubt.
She nodded, twice, but didn’t speak.
As Colin came up beside her, Dracula said, “If you’re a doctor, where’s your stethoscope?”
Natalya could feel Colin tense. She reached her hand up to her neck and groped there.
“Oh my god, where’s my stethoscope?” She whirled around in a fake panic. “I just had it!” She looked at Colin. “Do you think I could have dropped it when I tripped before?”
“You must have,” Colin said quickly. “It’s my fault. I’ll take you back the way we came and you can check.”
Natalya gave Dracula a pleading look. “Do you mind if I go now?” she asked.
Dracula hesitated, then made a mark on his clipboard and said to Colin what he’d said to the ice skater. “Go find an Elvis.” A second later, the two of them were racing through the doors, laughing.
When they got to the enormous room with the stone floor and the towering metal gate, Colin finally slowed down. “Oh my god, you were amazing!” He imitated her feeling around her neck for the imaginary missing stethoscope, then shook his head. “Brilliant.”
Natalya laughed. “Elementary, my dear Watson.”
“I think I’m supposed to say that,” Colin reminded her.
She nodded. “You’re right.”
Colin took off his hat and fanned himself with it briefly, then looked at Natalya. “You are awesome.”
Natalya felt a surge of happiness run through her body. There was something about Colin that was just so…great. She laughed.
He put out his hand for her to take. “Come on, I’ll bring you back where I found you.”
She put her hand in his. She’d never walked somewhere holding hands with a boy before. It was really nice.
“So, where’d you learn to play chess like that?” They were swinging their arms slightly as they walked.
“My dad taught me. He’s a great player.”
“I’d like to play him sometime. Maybe he could teach me a thing or two.”
Natalya liked the idea of her dad and Colin playing chess. Somehow she could imagine Colin coming over to her house and hanging out with her family more easily than she could see any of her other new friends doing that.
They were approaching the Great Hall, and the space around them grew increasingly crowded. The main stairs were jammed with people. Colin paused and frowned.
“I’m trying to think of the fastest way to return you to where I kidnapped you from,” he explained.
For a second Natalya thought how nice it was that he was going to help her get back to her friends instead of just returning to his scavenger hunt, but then her stomach dropped sickeningly. If he took her back to where he’d found her, then Morgan would know they’d been together.
That could not happen.
“It’s okay,” she said quickly. “I can find my own way back. I don’t want to take you away from your game.”
He cocked his head to the side, then turned to look at her. “You know what? Let’s just hang out, okay?”
Natalya felt a wave of terror wash over her. T
his was bad. This was so very, very bad.
“No!” she almost yelped. “I mean, that would be so…crazy.
We’ll hang out another time. We’ll play chess.” Realizing she was still holding his hand, Natalya quickly extracted her fingers from his.
Colin smiled. “Seriously, I don’t care about the scavenger hunt.”
Natalya was already shaking her head. “I don’t think you’d like my friends. I mean, I know you wouldn’t. I mean, I know you don’t…like them.”
“What, are you here with my sister or something?” Colin asked in a joking way, but when he saw Natalya’s face, he stopped smiling. “Oh god, seriously?”
She nodded.
He sighed deeply, then reached for her hand. “Blow her off.”
“I…” She didn’t put her hand in his.
Laughing, Colin took a step toward her. “Come on. Just tell her you’ll see her Monday.”
Natalya still didn’t take his hand, and after a second, he dropped it to his side. “What, you’d rather hang with my sister than with me?”
Natalya hesitated. She liked being with Colin so much. But what if Morgan found out?
“Natalya?” he asked.
There had to be some way she could avoid choosing between them. There just had to be.
“I…” She stared at him, helpless to finish the sentence.
Colin gave her a long look. “Whatever,” he muttered. Then he turned and headed toward the Great Hall.
She took a step forward and called his name. When he didn’t stop, she added, “Wait!” But either he didn’t hear, or he pretended he didn’t hear. And before she could decide whether or not to follow him, he’d been swallowed up by the crowd.
SUNDAY MORNING, VICTORIA was awakened by bright sunlight streaming through her window. She squinted against it, cursing herself for having forgotten to close the shade, then rolled over and pulled a pillow onto her head.
She so did not want to be awake. Being awake meant playing her fight with Natalya and Jane over and over in her head on some crazy loop of shame. It meant hearing Emily’s accusations, seeing her sneer.
The Darlings Are Forever Page 22