“None of us did,” Olivia says quickly. “It was between Allegra and these two other girls.”
“How does that even work?” Claudia asks, enthralled not so much by the blow jobs, but by how sophisticated these girls seem, how mature, how cool by comparison.
“It was, like, one minute each, right?”
Allegra nods, either not knowing or not caring that her behavior is in any way shocking. “It doesn’t even really count. We just went down the line, and at the end, they gave their scores. And I won,” she says lightly.
“Blow Job Queen?” There is a hint of sarcasm in Grace’s voice. She and Eve make eye contact for a split second, registering the incredulous expressions on each other’s face.
“She was good, I’m telling you. We watched! So now she’s giving us lessons,” Olivia laughs. “I’m so scared my technique is bad, and that’s the one thing guaranteed to turn you into a social outcast. It really doesn’t mean anything, though. I know it sounds weird to you, but it’s not weird if you live here.”
“Plus our school is really open-minded.” Allegra nods. “We’re all experimenting.”
“Not everyone,” Olivia says with a mean smile, “just you and Mila.”
“Oh my God!” shouts Allegra. “You are so not supposed to know about that!” But she’s laughing as one of the girls, clearly Mila, purrs and rubs her butt.
“Oh man. Get off! I can’t believe you told them!” Allegra pushes Mila’s hand away and sits back down, but she’s smiling.
“Why not? They’re my best friends. Of course I’m going to tell them. Don’t worry. I told them it was good.”
“She did,” Olivia confirms. “She said it was weird, but really good.” Pride combined with relief. Eve, from across the room watches Allegra relax, repelled and compelled by the dynamic in this room. It is captivating. Or would be, if only she were behind a wall, and not stuck, right here, in the middle of it all.
There is no doubt in Eve’s mind that, as an anthropological study, tonight is priceless. She just wishes it were only tonight, not the entire weekend, with no adult to impose a limit, no one to tell them what they can and can’t do, these girls who will do anything in order to feel something.
At once older and younger than the girls in this room, Eve does not dole out blow jobs like hugs, has not, in fact, done anything other than make out with boys, and had a couple feel her up, which didn’t do anything for her other than make her worry that perhaps she was a lesbian.
She feels bizarrely unsophisticated in this room of sexually knowledgeable New York teenagers, who talk about sex as if it is nothing, who have everything but seem nothing other than bored.
She is shocked, fascinated, concerned. How can these girls treat themselves like this? How can they degrade themselves by performing oral sex in front of an audience?
Or is she the freak? Is there something wrong with her? She has always been praised for her maturity, her wisdom, but perhaps there’s something wrong with her? She doesn’t have any inclination to do the things the others are doing, preferring, quite honestly, to go to someone’s house, or better, have a couple of close friends over, and talk. She is happy to be with her parents, occasionally finding them embarrassing or irritating or unreasonable, but mostly, until recently, she seemed to be going through adolescence with few pitfalls.
Until she stopped eating, started bingeing, purging. She is able, at times, to pretend to be Eve, but most of the time she feels like a shadow of herself. It feels like she is swimming underwater. She can see the people she loves, but she can’t quite reach them. She can’t quite remember what it is to be happy, and she isn’t sure how she got here, or how she can get back.
Every morning she wakes up and tells herself today is going to be a new normal. She isn’t going to throw up today. She is going to eat like a normal person. She isn’t going to walk around consumed with shame and hatred, but it lasts, has only ever lasted, an hour or so.
This weekend was supposed to be a good thing. It was supposed to physically remove her from the stresses, be fun, take her mind off leaving home, going to college. Instead she is finding herself with a group of girls she is finding herself increasingly uncomfortable with, and right now, all she wants to do is go out and find a store that sells ice cream. Lots and lots of ice cream.
“Oh my God! You must think we’re all such sluts!” Olivia frowns, drawing in a lungful of smoke, holding it for just a few seconds, before exhaling slowly and passing it on. “It is something weird at our school. Everyone’s kind of doing it, and I like how open-minded we all are. I’m much more freaked out about intimacy.” She looks at Eve, who smiles and nods, but all she is thinking about is ice cream. Still.
“Me too!” Allegra agrees enthusiastically. “I can, like, do anything with anyone, except kissing. That is way too intimate. I’m only kissing my boyfriend.”
“Or girlfriend,” teases Olivia. “But yeah. I feel the same. Blow jobs aren’t intimate. Kissing is intimate.” The girls in the room all nod sagely.
“Oh my God!” Charlotte squeaks. “Can you imagine if it was a kissing competition? Ew!”
“Ew!” they echo, their noses bunched up in disgust. “Kissing Mikey Hadley? How gross would that be?” And they start giggling, and soon all except Eve and Grace are rolling on the sofa in breathless hysteria, tears rolling down their cheeks as they clutch their stomachs and groan.
Grace, sitting quietly, looks over at Eve, pointing at the vaporizer. “You didn’t have any, did you?” she mouths.
Eve shakes her head.
“Want to go for a walk?”
* * *
As soon as the elevator doors are closed, the girls stare at each other openmouthed.
“Am I on Planet Bizarro or something?” Grace says. “What the fuck? Am I crazy, or is there something totally fucked up with those girls?”
“I thought perhaps there was something wrong with me. That’s, like, the freakiest conversation I’ve ever heard.”
“My mom says it’s too much money and too little attention. I mean, not about Olivia, because she doesn’t really know her, and when she stayed with us over Winter Break, my mom really liked her, but … wow. It happens even where I live. The rich kids in my school are doing all this kind of stuff too because they’re bored.”
“That’s what I find so awful,” Eve says. “This terrible undercurrent of boredom. Take Allegra. She’s totally beautiful, but she has no energy whatsoever. I know she’s stoned, and I know I’ve only just met her, but it feels like she’s waiting to be amused by other people because she can’t be bothered to make the effort.”
Grace laughs. “That’s exactly how she comes across. And Charlotte just seems unhappy.”
“I feel bad for Olivia. It’s like she knows what they’re like, and she knows she’s not like that, but she’s trying to fit in.”
“She is. It’s amazing to me that someone who has so much feels like she has to prove herself all the time. You know who her dad is, right?”
Eve shakes her head as Grace mentions a name that means nothing to her.
“He runs one of the biggest hedge funds in the country. He’s worth gazillions, and he’s never home. Olivia says he’s been having an affair with his secretary forever, and her mom doesn’t know. He asks Olivia to cover for him all the time. Can you imagine?” She turns to look at Eve with a disdainful shake of her head. “How do you do that to your daughter, never mind your wife?”
“That’s horrible,” Eve agrees. “Why doesn’t Olivia say something?”
“She kind of hates her dad, but she’s also scared of betraying him, and she doesn’t want to hurt her mom. Also, she’s terrified of him leaving. She feels like she doesn’t get enough of him as it is. He’s always at work, and when he is home, he closes himself in his study or glues himself to his iPad. They pretty much have nothing to do with the kids. Her brother’s at Deerfield, and Olivia was supposed to go but she refused.”
“So when Olivia sai
d her mom had things planned for this weekend and we’d be going to Wicked—?”
“I’m sure her mom does have plans—they just don’t include the parents. She did get us tickets for Wicked, but we’re going alone. No adults.” Grace shrugs before grinning suddenly. “It sucks for Olivia, even though I’m kind of jealous of the amount of freedom she has. My mom’s a super control freak, so I’m kind of blown away by this freedom.
“My dad’s never home either, so when he is, we’re all expected to drop everything for family time. I can’t even believe he let me come here this weekend.”
“Remind me where you live?”
“We’re about forty minutes away. In Connecticut. New Salem?”
Eve nods. She had forgotten that Grace mentioned it on iChat.
“It’s nice. You know, typical suburbia but with bigger houses. There are a ton of girls in my school just like Allegra and Charlotte. Beautiful but insecure. And bored.”
“But you’re beautiful. And you’re totally different from them.” Eve is genuinely curious as Grace makes a face. She is, indeed, beautiful, with long limbs and dimples showing off a large and perfect smile. Tousled dirty-blond hair, she is the picture of the All-American girl.
“Oh my God!” she laughs. “My family’s just as crazy, but in a different way. Suburbia sucks too, but it sucks differently. But, I do have a great boyfriend, and great brothers, and that definitely helps. Speaking of which…” She grins as her phone buzzes. “There he is!” She stops to read the text as a huge smile spreads on her face. “Landon’s game got canceled. Thank you, God!” She raises her eyes to the heavens as she smiles even wider.
“What does that mean?” Eve feels her face fall. Does that mean Grace is going home to be with her boyfriend? Will Eve be abandoned to these girls with whom she has nothing in common except for Claudia? Picturing the den, the girls lounging on the sofa, the conversations they have already had, the weight of dread settles about her shoulders, evident on her face.
“I have an idea!” Grace lights up. “Why don’t you come back to my house? We could get the train together and you could stay at mine! My parents are out tonight, but they won’t mind. I know you don’t want to go back to that apartment any more than I do. My brothers are home, which means it can be a little chaotic, but please say yes?”
“Chaotic?” Eve asks, dazed, knowing that she would so very much rather be with Grace than step back inside that room.
Grace laughs. “Just dogs, and kids, and noise. When my parents go out, the boys tend to go a bit wild. Oh, please come! I know we don’t really know each other, but I can’t leave you here with these people. I only came because Naomi, another friend from camp, was supposed to be coming, but she canceled last-minute, and then I felt like I was committed.
“You can get the train back in tomorrow so you still get to hang with the others. Go on,” she pleads. “It’s only one night, and we’ll have far more fun together.”
Eve is torn. She is desperate to go back with Grace. She may not know her, but knows she likes her. Nothing could be worse than that smoke-filled room and those bored rich girls. Grace’s house would be fun. It sounds much like the sort of family Eve has always wanted. Kids, animals, chaos. How different from the quiet of her own family, no siblings, no noise, a mother who studiously avoided anything to do with the PTA.
Wouldn’t it be rude? Would Olivia be upset? Even if not, how can she leave Claudia? What might Claudia do in her absence? Isn’t it her job to look after her?
Her mind turns over. Eve wasn’t even supposed to be here originally. Everyone may joke that Eve is Claudia’s guardian angel, but she isn’t. It is too much of a responsibility. Claudia is old enough to take care of herself, and it is only for a night. Tomorrow she will come back, go to the theater, see the sights of New York, do what they had planned.
Grace is still staring at her. “What do you think? Would it be awful for us to go?”
It is a beautiful spring evening. The air is warm, the store windows lit and inviting, New Yorkers striding past them, phones clamped to their ears, leashes in the other hand as dogs sniff the sidewalk, no one noticing the two young girls standing on the corner, one expectant, the other deep in thought.
A wave of excitement floods Eve. Not sure if this is the right thing to do, she slowly nods as Grace shrieks and flings her arms around her.
“I’m so happy! We’re going to have so much fun.”
“You’re not going to just leave me and go upstairs with your boyfriend or anything, are you?”
“No! Are you kidding? Landon isn’t even allowed upstairs. I’d be grounded forever. Let me text them I’m coming home with you.” She starts tapping on the screen.
“What do we tell them?”
“The truth.” Grace shrugs. “Neither of us drink or smoke, so it’s not that much fun for us, and we’ll see them tomorrow. Keep it simple.”
Eve smiles. Of course. Why twist herself into knots, trying to hide that she’s not like them. Why not come clean? What is she afraid of? That they may not like her? Accept her?
So what?
* * *
Back in the elevator, back to the grand foyer, this time male voices interspersed with shrieks of laughter from the girls waft through the vast corridors. Eve, so worried about telling them, suddenly feels nothing other than relief that she doesn’t have to stay here tonight.
“I know you said her parents aren’t around, but you can smell the weed from here,” Eve whispers as they grab their bags. “Are they really okay with it?”
“I guess they must be.” Grace stops at a glossy demi-lune table covered in silver photo frames. In each, a tiny blond-haired woman is smiling widely, her hair perfectly coiffed, skin tanned the color of caramel, huge diamonds glittering on her ears. In others, she is clearly on vacation, sitting on the deck of a yacht, throwing back her head and laughing, the strings of a Missoni bikini just visible under her gauzy tunic; at the season opening of the New York City Ballet in an off-the-shoulder floor-length mandarin chiffon gown, surrounded by identical women with identical smiles.
“Does that look like the kind of woman who spends much time thinking about her children? Can you ever imagine her pushing her kids at the playground? Or climbing into bed with them for a cuddle? I know it’s unfair to judge a book by its cover, but you can tell an awful lot from these pictures.”
“Oh God!” Eve says. “We’re being so mean. We agree that we like Olivia. We just don’t like her friends. We have to stop.”
“You’re quite right. Bad girls. Let’s quickly go in and say good-bye. We have a train to catch.”
“Do you think we have to go in and say good-bye?” Eve grimaces at the prospect.
“What are you thinking?”
“Would it be really, really awful to text?”
Grace bursts out laughing. “Yes!” she says. “It would be really, really awful. Let’s do it,” and grabbing Eve’s hand, she drags her straight back into the elevator and closes the doors before either of them have a chance to change their minds.
20
Eve
The train journey passes in a flash, the two of them talking nonstop, passing earbuds back and forth to play each other songs on their playlists, flicking through the gossip magazines they bought at Grand Central, poring over the clothes, fantasizing about their perfect red carpet dress.
Eve thought about letting her mother know she was going to Grace’s, but it is only for a night. She will be back at Olivia’s tomorrow; she has her cell phone. In these modern times, no one is ever out of touch.
The girls jump off the train as a tall, preppy boy moves toward them on the platform, his face breaking into a smile as he sweeps Grace off the ground into a big hug.
He turns to Eve and extends a hand, introducing himself, adding, “It’s good to meet you,” as Eve simply stands, staring, finally remembering to say it is good to meet him too.
So few boys she knew would ever do this. The most she could ex
pect would be a “Hey,” or a “What’s up?” with a simple, wordless nod of acknowledgment being the norm.
Boys her age didn’t shake hands and say, in strong, confident tones, that it was good to meet her. Boys her age didn’t take both bags from the girls and carry them to the car, opening the car door for them before climbing in the driver’s side.
“Isn’t he adorable?” Grace turns to Eve in the backseat, reaching over to stroke the back of Landon’s neck as he drives.
“He is,” she agrees. “And this is so pretty! Is this Main Street?” They drive past pretty stores, an old cinema, an ice cream parlor. “It’s like something out of a magazine!”
“We’re so used to it, we don’t even see it anymore,” Landon laughs. “It’s good to see it through someone else’s eyes.”
“Especially when this is your first time here. Welcome to New England.” Grace waves an arm extravagantly, showing off the grand old houses they pass.
Most are set far back off the wide, quiet road, old stone walls and sweeping driveways leading up to large clapboard houses with elegant wraparound porches; shiplap barns; giant maple trees hundreds of years old towering majestically over the homes, their soft silvery leaves lit by strategically placed spotlights on the ground, whispering under a black velvet sky.
Eve is openmouthed as they drive. It seems each house is bigger and more beautiful than the last, and she has never seen opulence like this.
“Who lives here?” she asks. “This is like a millionaire’s town.”
Landon gestures at the houses. “Hedge fund, hedge fund, hedge fund.”
“Not all of them.” Grace frowns. “You live in a huge home, and you’re not hedge fund.”
“True. And neither are you. But we’re the old guard. The ones with the grand houses and leaks in the roof.”
“It’s true.” Grace turns round in her seat. “Landon’s family are proper old money.”
“Yes. We’re so old, the money has disappeared,” Landon laughs, the line being one of his favorites.
“Still,” explains Grace, “they live in the most beautiful house in the town.…”