“Doesn’t that make you a hypocrite?” She stared at me. “You pray for a person and forgive them, but you won’t be friends with them?”
“I pray for Rory Stapleton, but I certainly wouldn’t want to be in the same room with him,” she retorted. “That’s not hypocrisy. That’s just understanding him and being smart.”
“Oh,” I said in a bright tone. “Now I’m not smart. Not like you, the smartest person in this school now that Lucas Hayes, your other ex-boyfriend, is gone.” Her face smoothed out and set into that expressionless look she gets when she’s hurt.
My stomach went hollow as I realized what I’d done. But still my mouth kept talking, spilling stuff out while my brain screamed, Stop! “It’s nice to know how you really feel about me. Maybe I don’t have as much in the brains department as you do. Maybe if you’d tried for the Hearst Medal, you’d have come in first, not second. Fine. But don’t quote the Bible at me when all you want to do is sit around and judge someone. Meanwhile, I’ll be off trying to show the fruit of the Spirit to somebody who’s never been exposed to it before.”
I stomped into the bathroom and slammed the door closed between us.
“I’m not judging her,” Gillian shouted. “I’m trying to protect you from her. Why are you mad at me for caring about you?”
But I turned on the water in the shower as hard as it would go and drowned her out.
* * *
TEXT MESSAGE
Carly Aragon Where RU?
Lissa Mansfield In the bleachers, doing homework and watching soccer.
Carly Aragon ?? Be right there.
* * *
CARLY CLIMBED UP the bleachers and sat next to me in the top row. Out on the field, the center forward from Sacred Heart, the city’s defending champion, made a breakaway and blasted toward Derrik in the Spencer goal mouth. Our defense closed in to stop him, but he twisted like a greyhound and drilled the ball over Derrik’s left shoulder. The home crowd groaned while Sacred Heart clapped their center on the back and jogged back toward the line.
“What’s the score?” Carly asked.
“Six to three. We’re losing.”
“Isn’t Derrik Vaughan our goalie?” She craned her head to see, but Derrik, his head down and his hands on his hips, was talking to the ref with his back to us. Carly gave me an aha look. “Is that why you’re out here? To watch him?”
“No. I’m out here because I can’t stand being inside right now. In fact, if I had a car, I’d be heading straight west to the beach with my board.”
“And you can’t stand being inside because…”
I sighed. “Gillian and I are still fighting.”
With a sympathetic nod, she said, “I know. She told me.”
Great. “And what did she say?”
“Just that it’s about Vanessa. She doesn’t think you should get any closer to her.”
“Is that what you think?”
“I don’t know what to think. I want to be as loving as I can to everyone. Even Vanessa. But it’s hard when she’s never made any effort to be nice to anyone else.”
“Carly, if Jesus had that attitude, none of us would ever have the chance to know God.”
“We can only do the best we know how with what He told us. And He said to be good to those who hate you.”
“That’s what I’m trying to do. Ergo, Gillian is mad at me when she’s the last person who should be.”
“I don’t think it’s about that. It’s not about popularity or what people think or anything. She’s just trying to protect you.”
“That’s what she said, but I don’t need protecting. I’m not a little kid. I need support.”
Carly fell silent for a few minutes, watching the game pick itself up and go on. Then she straightened and shook her hair back. “Come on,” she said. “You’re not concentrating anyway. I’ve got something to show you.”
I slid my U.S. History books into my tote and let myself be led into the Life Sciences department. Truth? I hated fighting with Gillian. Hated, hated, hated it. It spoiled every-thing, and made it so that even eating in the dining room became fraught with politics and maneuvering and emotional fallout.
But how could I back down and tell her, okay, I’ll lose Vanessa and you and I will go back to being friends in our safe little lives, where we all have each other and nobody makes mistakes and gets huge responsibilities dumped on them when they’re not prepared?
I couldn’t bring myself to do that when I’d come so far with Vanessa. The baby had moved and she’d shared that with me. It had to mean something, right?
Carly opened the workroom door and I realized with a start why she’d brought me here. “Don’t tell me you’ve finished the dress for your mom already.”
On the other side of the room where the mannequins were, one stood off by itself. I recognized the design immediately.
“Not the dress. But the muslin is done.”
“Wow,” I breathed. I dropped my tote on the floor and circled the mannequin slowly. She’d made the muslin out of plain cotton broadcloth, but even so, the skirt’s lines were smooth over the dress form’s hips and the jacket collar furled away from the back of its neck just as it had in her drawing. “How did you get it to do that?” I touched the neckline.
“After careful consultation with Tori Wu and about a dozen tries, I finally figured it out. It’s all in the interfacing and a teensy bit of boning. Now I have to take it all apart and cut the peau de soie from the pieces.”
“How do you remember where everything goes?”
She shrugged. So modest. So Carly. “It’s all in my head. The skirt is a simple sheath, and the sleeves are plain, except for the petal wrap at the wrist. Most of the wow factor is in how the collar will frame her face.” She ran her finger down the line of it. “I just have to convince her to wear her hair up. Otherwise no one will be able to see it.”
“She’d be crazy not to. And not too much veil, either—maybe just two lilies on one side of a French twist.” I turned to her. “So you and your mom are okay? No guilt? No needling and pointed reminders?”
“Not one.” Her face softened. “Once my dad showed me that it was okay to move on, everything seemed to change. I even phoned her the other night and apologized for ruining her Christmas Eve wedding. She was so sweet. She said that it would be much better this way, starting off her new marriage with forgiveness and hope instead of with resentment and regret.”
“Wow. That’s different. From what you’ve said about her, I mean,” I said hastily. I’d never met the woman, only heard her on the phone.
“I guess I’ve been kind of unfair to Richard,” she admitted. “I mean, I still think his fashion sense needs to be locked in a room with Tim Gunn for a week, but his heart is what counts when he’s marrying my mom. She seems different with him. More… settled.”
Carly smiled as she picked up my tote and handed it to me. I waited in the corridor while she tidied up the workroom and closed it. “I’ll start cutting tomorrow.”
“Wait. What about Kaz and Danyel? They’ll be here first thing.”
“Oh, I’ll be happy to see them—we could do breakfast together. But I need to get this done. The wedding is next weekend and I have to fly out on Thursday night to do the final fitting Friday.”
“What about Brett? Does he want to come?”
She looked away. “I don’t know. You should ask him.”
“Carly.” I touched her hand. “You guys aren’t still fighting, too, are you?”
“We’re not fighting.” But she wouldn’t look me in the eye. “We’re giving each other some space to come to terms with the future.”
“Have you been reading psych textbooks again? What does that mean?”
Her shoulders sagged. “It means we’re still fighting.” She sounded miserable, as all the light and pleasure that her mom’s dress had brought drained away.
Darn relationships anyway. “Join the club.”
“I haven’t done anyth
ing wrong. If I had, I’d have apologized. So that makes it hard.”
“I hear you. Hey.” I stopped. “Want to go for supper at The Cheesecake Factory?”
“The one in the top of Macy’s?”
“Is there any other?”
“I don’t have any money.”
“I have a Platinum Visa, and I know how to use it.”
“Deal. Meet you out front at five.”
Relationships were painful, and wonderful, and a constant struggle to figure out how to do the right thing. But spinach dip and caramel cheesecake could make everything better. At least for a while.
I couldn’t seem to make Gillian happy, but at least I could do something, no matter how trivial, for Carly. And right now, that was good enough for me.
Chapter 15
BAM-BAM-BAM!
“They’re here!” Shani hollered through the door. “Danyel just called from the guest lot.”
“Coming!” I called, giving my hair a last once-over with the brush and doing a quick check of my outfit at the same time. I loved the floaty, flimsy Marc Jacobs babydoll top with a contrasting yellow tank underneath, all over white capris and Liberty Print Nikes.
Knowing I was styling a great look that Kaz would probably like partly made up for the fact that Gillian was nowhere to be found. I soon learned the reason for that as Shani, Carly, and I dashed across the lawn toward the guest parking lot overlooking the playing field.
She’d beaten us to the boys.
With a shriek, Shani flung herself at Danyel, who whirled her around in a bear hug. Carly hugged Kaz, his six-foot self bending to wrap his arms around her.
Gillian had already gotten her dibs in, it seemed, because she stood behind him, grinning. Hmph. I swear, if that girl was making a play for Kaz, I was going to—
“Lissa!”
I threw my arms around him and hugged him hard—which meant I noticed three things simultaneously. One, he’d filled out some more since I’d been home at spring break. Either that or there’d been some serious workout action going on. Two, he smelled really good—Pour Monsieur, if I wasn’t mistaken. Since when did Kaz worry about cologne? Was that for Gillian’s benefit? And three, I was enjoying this hug way too much.
Back away from the man, girlfriend.
Regardless of what these girls thought, I knew Kaz. And he didn’t think of me like that. It would be way too embarrassing if I got all heated up over him. If he found out, he’d probably run into the sunset screaming, or he’d laugh at me, which would be ten times worse. And then things would get all weird between us, and I’d lose my friend.
I wouldn’t let that happen. I’d keep my moment to myself and not let it spoil things.
“Congratulations on the book deal!”
“Thanks.” He released me and stepped back. “Today is all about the celebration, so prepare yourself.”
“Hey, Lissa.” Danyel hugged me with one arm, the other still around Shani.
“You really let this guy drive your truck, with his head up in the clouds?” I asked him, elbowing Kaz in the ribs. “Are you nuts?”
“Only on the freeway. Once we got to the city, I wasn’t taking any chances.”
“Clouds or not, I wouldn’t drive on these hills, especially with a stick shift,” Gillian chimed in. “Sometimes I get vertigo just walking up them.”
“Have you guys had breakfast?” Carly asked. “The dining room’s open, but only until ten.”
“If they’re staying with Malika, they probably already had a nice tree-bark stew with unshelled nuts on top.” Shani gave Danyel a big faux smile.
“At least she can cook,” he quipped, which netted him a punch on the arm. “Yeah, we ate already. And it wasn’t tree bark. It was bacon and eggs.”
“So we’re off to the beach, then?” I said, all hopeful eyes, even though there didn’t seem to be a board of any description in the back of the truck.
“Lissa’s idea of fun is to give you more of what you already have at home,” Gillian said.
“That’s not—”
“I have a standing invitation at Brett’s vineyard in Napa,” Shani interrupted. “Mrs. Loyola said we could spend the day up there, even if Brett’s got a regatta today.”
“Um, awkward.” I nudged her and glanced at Carly, who was looking in the direction of the Life Sciences wing with longing.
“Oh, I’m not going with you.” Carly turned back to us with guilty haste. “I’m working on my mom’s wedding dress today. The five of you should still go. Six, if Jeremy’s in.”
“Napa’s more fun with you and Brett along,” Danyel told her. “Next time. I’m good with just kicking it down at the waterfront, if you all are game. That way we can hoist a crustacean in Kaz’s honor.”
I’d glanced at Gillian at the mention of Jeremy’s name, but that smiling face didn’t give away a thing. “Where is Jeremy?” I asked brightly. “He wouldn’t want to miss that.”
“Don’t be so sure.” Gillian’s tone was completely normal, but she didn’t meet my eyes. “He said he was studying.”
“So we have the chicks to ourselves,” Kaz said with satisfaction, looping an arm around Gillian and me. “My kind of odds. Bring on the cable cars.”
You will not fume. Gillian’s the third wheel, not you.
I tried to tell myself that as we collected our handbags and caught the train to Powell Street. Even as we swooped down the hill toward Chinatown, Kaz and Danyel whooping and hollering on the outside rails of the cable car as though they were on a roller-coaster ride, I laughed and joked as if this new attitude of hers totally didn’t bother me.
Why, then, did I tense up every time Kaz called a comment to her, or she teased him about something? I didn’t do that when she razzed Danyel. Nope, I needed to talk with Kaz, stat, before Gillian got any more fun ideas in her head.
I got my chance after the promised crustacean toast to Kaz’s success in the publishing business. We’d just dumped our empty shells and sourdough crusts in a trash can when Shani and Gillian got distracted by something in a shop window, further down the strip opposite Fishermen’s Wharf. I seized the opportunity, not to mention Kaz’s arm, and walked him around a corner in the other direction, toward Ghirardelli Square.
“Wait, we’ll lose them.” He looked back over his shoulder.
“We all have phones,” I reminded him. “I haven’t had a second to talk to you since you got here. They’ll understand.” We walked up the hill, silent, while I tried to figure out where to start. So, what’s going on between you and Gillian? seemed too blunt—and on the off chance that nothing was, I’d just look weird.
I sighed. Talking with Kaz wasn’t usually this… fraught.
“You okay?” He was nothing if not perceptive. “It’s a shame about Jeremy, huh?”
“Yeah. Who wants to study instead of doing something fun?”
“No, I mean about him and Gillian breaking up.”
I stopped dead in the middle of the sidewalk. “What?”
“Sometime this week. It’s too bad. I thought he was nuts about her.”
“Wait. Whoa. Gillian and Jeremy broke up and I’m just hearing about it now?” My chest hurt, as if I’d been stabbed. “Who told you?”
“One guess, Sherlock. Gillian’s not in the habit of saying things that aren’t true. You seriously didn’t know?”
“We… well, we haven’t been getting along too well lately. A difference of opinion about something. But that’s no excuse for not telling me. I mean, she hasn’t cried about it or anyth—” I stopped. Nor had she allowed herself to be around where I’d see it. She could have cried her eyes out in the girls’ bathroom and I wouldn’t have known.
Shame washed over me. It takes two to fight, and I’d nurtured my hurt and defensive feelings as if they were a prized African violet. Because of that, my best friend had to suffer on her own. What was the matter with me? Here I thought I was pretty good at discernment, when I couldn’t even detect a breakup in my own room
mate’s life.
“Liss, you’re not going to cry, are you?” Kaz bent to look into my face. “Because all I’ve got for you to honk on is my T-shirt and I like this one.”
I gave a watery chuckle and blinked the tears back. “That’s okay.” I peered at his chest. “The Abbey Road album cover is safe from me.”
He straightened, relieved, and we walked on. “So, what are you two fighting about?”
“I didn’t know you were that close to her.” I needed time to work up an answer he’d understand, so I opted for a conversational swerve. “A breakup isn’t the kind of thing I’d tell a guy friend of my roommate.”
“Oh, we e-mail all the time.” We climbed the steps into Ghirardelli Square and by mutual accord headed in the direction of the chocolate shop. It had a big window where you could see the candy machines stirring fudge and vats of chocolate. “At first it was just about graphic art, and then we got to be friends. I’d help her out on a project; she’d help me out on physics. Ugh.”
“That’ll teach you for not taking it last year.”
“Right, Miss Chemistry-Is-Killing-Me.”
Touché. “If it weren’t for Gillian, neither of us would have made it through midterms.”
“So she asked me one time about guys, and then I’d talk to her over e-mail, you know, about stuff.”
Stuff. That could cover a multitude of things. “What stuff?”
“Boy-girl stuff.”
“You could have talked about that kind of thing with me.” The knife in my chest turned, just enough to hurt again. “You and I talk about everything. After all, who got me through the whole Callum debacle? And Aidan before that?”
“Your taste in men is questionable.”
“What does that say about you?” I shot back.
“I’m not going out with you.”
“You’re going to Cotillion with me. That’s, like, a date.” What’s a dance without the romance? Gillian’s wistful voice echoed in my memory. I shook it away.
The Chic Shall Inherit the Earth Page 12