Beware That Girl (17 page)

“We’ve got to go, Anka.” I began gathering up packages. “Your sister will wonder where you are.”

Johnny handed me the huge bag containing the blender and the other one with all the bowls. “Nice to see you again, Kate. Now that you know where to find me, I’ll be here waiting.” Wink.

Yup, he winked.

Good, you just wait and wink away, because I for one was never coming back.

Neither Kate nor Anka was home. Olivia let her purse drop, walked out of her coat and allowed herself to be adored by Bruce.

“It’s happening, Bruce,” she said to the puppy. “I knew it would.” She giggled as he propped himself on his hind legs and placed his front paws on her chest to brace himself for exuberant face-licking. Was she drunk? No, she’d had just the one Bellini. She was always careful. “Okay, enough, you brute! I’m going to have a shower.”

Olivia floated toward her room, and although she noted that she felt light and airy, she also noted how much she
felt.
God knows she had felt his kiss on the back of her neck as Mark helped her off with her coat at the restaurant. His lips barely touched her skin and yet her entire body ignited. He didn’t touch her again—not once—but she was still radiating from that one sweet kiss. As she knew she would. Every move in the game was exactly right. And there would be so much more when…

She giggled again.

Olivia headed to the shower with Bruce hot on her heels. Again she stopped.

No, not a shower.

Olivia never took baths, only showers. Sometimes multiple showers. Sometimes scalding hot, sometimes freezing cold—sometimes both in successive order, just to remind herself that she could feel, that she was alive in her own body. Not today.

She padded to the linen cupboard and took out an array of candles, each one more prohibitively expensive than the last. Olivia arranged them around the bathtub and lit them all before turning the water to a warm, lovely temperature. She added a few drops of gardenia oil for good measure, and then she eased herself in, rejoicing in the sensation of being caressed by the scented water. Bruce couldn’t quite reach the lip of the marble bath, so only his paws and ears were visible. He would stand guard there until she reemerged.

“Ahhhh,” she sighed as she submerged into the water. It
was
everything she had hoped. And whatever the cost, it would be worth it. Olivia let the tap flow freely over her feet and legs, luxuriating in the sound of the running water.

Suddenly, Bruce yelped excitedly and tore out of the bathroom. They must have returned.

“Olivia? Hello? We’re back!”

“I’m taking a bath,” she called.

“A bath?” Silence. “You don’t take baths. You okay?” Closer now. Kate’s voice was in the bedroom doorway.

“Never better!” she called out again. She submerged herself once more and turned on the taps again.

Never,
ever
better.

The three of us were up to our ears in application remorse in the Waverly library. I don’t know how we got started, but we were cranking each other up something fierce.

“I shouldn’t have applied to Brown at all,” moaned Serena. “I don’t even want to go to Brown. My father wants me to go to Brown. He went full-court press and called in all his favors. I want to go to Pomona, damn it. I’ll never get there on my own ticket.” She was vibrating like a tuning fork. Come to think of it, the beautiful Serena seemed to have been running on raw nerves for the past couple of weeks.

Olivia and I had both applied Regular Decision to Yale. All the seniors had a team of college coaches and SAT tutors. I did the heavy lifting as Olivia’s SAT tutor, but I also benefited from all her highly paid college adviser info. I was now second-guessing that paid advice. Olivia’s college coach had insisted that Yale did not show enough love to its Early Action candidates, and that taking that route might choke other offers. She’d said that Regular Decision was fine. Thing is, Olivia was a legacy. Her parents had met at Yale. Her mother’s people were Elis back through the mists of time. My parents would have been hard-pressed to tell you which state Yale was in. I should have gone with my gut and applied Early Action.

Did we blow it? Did
I
blow it? I thought Kruger looked nervous. Did she look nervous? The acceptance rates were terrifying. Brown took in a mere 10 percent of applicants. Pomona let in 13 percent, and Yale…Yale had a dismal acceptance rate of less than 7 percent. A new low. There wasn’t a senior or junior in the school who couldn’t recite college stats at the drop of a low-fat yogurt.

I’d also applied to Columbia, the University of Chicago and Stanford, plus a couple of Canadian universities, but Yale had been “the only” ever since my mom and I saw
Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull,
which was filmed there. “That’s it, Katie. That’s for you, that place. It’s where you belong. That’s the prize.” We made a pact then and there as a result of that stupid movie. Well, that and watching reruns of the
Gilmore Girls
together. Serena and Olivia had each applied to more than twenty other schools. Each application cost money that I didn’t have. They’d also toured their top choices.

I didn’t have top
choices.
Just Yale. Nothing else mattered. My life would begin when I got to Yale, and everything would make sense. I’d kept my eye on the prize all these years above and beyond anything else, beyond all the horseshit. And then I blinked. I should have gone with my gut. I was done.

I buried myself in the stacks so they wouldn’t see me shaking.

School would let out for winter break after tomorrow’s assembly. We should have been out celebrating or shopping, but instead we were in the library and, speaking for myself, getting more nauseated by the minute.

“Ladies! What are my Wonders doing in the library? The sun is shining, and Christmas is coming!”

Mark blew in like a gust of fresh air.

I was deep in the stacks, but I could hear Serena and Olivia trying to draw him into the pity party.

“Uh-uh.” Mark folded his arms. “No, you don’t. I’ve been through a lot of schools like this and I’ve seen way too many sharp, talented and gifted young women drive themselves to despair over the admissions cycle. You girls will get into superb colleges that will be perfect for you. That’s not a wild guess, it’s years of experience.”

“But—” they both stammered at once.

“No buts. I’m staff and I know exactly how all of you are doing. I also know that Pomona
and
Yale”—did he call out “Yale” loudly enough for my benefit?—“will be lucky to have you grace their campuses. Ladies, I have been at this dance before.”

Deep as I was in the philosophy/psychology section, I could still hear them lighten up even as they protested.

“Enough! I’m not listening to another word,” he said. “Field trip. Let’s go see the tree.”

“What? At Rockefeller Center?” Serena was aghast. “With all those crazy tourists?”

“Yup.” I could hear the smile in his voice. “And if you behave, I may spring for hot chocolate. Let’s go.”

“I’m in,” said Olivia. “Kate, come on. Mark is dragging us to Rock Center to ooh and aah over the Christmas lights.”

I slid out from the stacks.

“Kate.” He stepped toward me. “Please tell me that you of all people aren’t buying into this nonsense. Nothing”—he looked directly at me—“absolutely nothing could ever get in the way of your goals. Don’t tell me you’re freaking out about admissions too.”

He was, in that moment, so warm and open and…

“A little, I guess.”

He shook his head. “It’ll be okay, Kate,” he whispered. “I promise.”

“Let’s go, girl!” Serena already had her coat on.

“I’ll catch up,” I said. “I’ve got to get a load of psycho books out so I can work on my thesis over the break.”

“Sure?” Olivia asked.

“Sure.” I nodded. “Go. Enjoy!”

I loved having the library to myself. I am inviolate in between bookshelves. Which is why I felt betrayed when I couldn’t fight it off. It must have been the admissions anxiety. I grabbed one of the errant step stools to sit on. I tried to clear my mind and time my breaths, just as I had been taught.

It worked, until it didn’t.

There was no Sister Rose at the new schools. Not at St. Ursula’s in Alberta, or at any school I went to in the US. Sure, there were some nice teachers, a decent counselor or two, even one set of okay foster parents, but no one like her. Did I make her up? Eventually, I came to understand that Sister Rose had to have known each time I tried scamming her, but she loved me despite it. I would have been different had we stayed. Sister Rose was an anchor, as were Mary-Catherine and her father.

Oh, look at all that spilled milk.

I loaded up on new skills at St. Ursula’s. Those girls were barracudas and I swam with the best of them. Had to. It was ugly when I didn’t, I learned.

I also learned never to go to school when the bruises were obvious.

I could tell when he was “off” by the way my father opened the door or held his fork. I could read my old man at fifty paces, and I learned to read others the same way.

Survival of the fittest.

My mother did not learn. He made her not only weak but stupid too. Unbearably stupid. He did that.

Why did she serve us up on a platter? Why would my mom think that this time would be different from all the others? He could barely stand the sight of her. The more she tried to please and placate him, the more he despised her.

Not me, though. Even when he went at me, I knew I commanded his respect. Katie was his little “cockroach.” Worse yet, he meant it as a compliment.

—

What time was it? Dazed, I grabbed my books, checked them out myself and then knocked on Mrs. Tanaka’s window, mouthing “Merry Christmas” to the librarian. She smiled and waved back. I replayed the Yale application mistake over and over again. At least it was something I could get my teeth into. It wasn’t until I was almost home that it came to me: Mark said that he had been through “a lot of schools like this.” A lot? How was that even possible? It didn’t scan. Surely he was too young to have already gone through a lot of schools. He must have said that to make the girls feel better. It was just Redkin trying to be soothing. Yeah, that was it.

Probably.

Olivia’s body hummed as she prepped. She was meeting Mark at their coffee shop to make plans to see each other over the holidays.
Really
see each other.

She had already formulated a list of excuses to whip out for upcoming absences. Kate would be cool, and she’d already promised the Chens that she’d put in some time over the holidays. So there was only her father, and surely he’d have a mad round of parties, business meetings and catch-up politics at the home office. So the coast would be clear. Well, clearish.

Except that it wasn’t. Olivia had popped into Hermès on the way to the Last Drop to justify the excursion and buy Kate’s Christmas gift. While she was there, her father called from Kennedy airport.

“Hey, Dad! Welcome home. I’m just out last-minute shopping. I’m thinking of getting a Hermès scarf for Kate. What say you?”