Chapter Six. Rose #2
“Maybe you could room with Thea. The two of you seemed awfully cozy when I came in.” Clara’s hazel eyes met mine in the mirror.
“I’d watch out if I were you. I heard that she and Charlotte Mott were caught kissing backstage.
Remember how Thea kissed you that time, in front of everybody?
I wouldn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea, Rosie. ”
I stiffened. Was that a friendly warning, or a threat?
“Don’t be silly.” My voice was tart. “Everybody knows Thea’s going with her brother’s friend from Penn.”
“I don’t know,” Clara said. “The way she was looking at you when I walked in … There’s something unnatural about her.”
I could have salvaged it if I’d thanked her for warning me.
If I’d groveled a bit. That would have been the smart thing to do.
The safe thing. Instead, stung by the idea that there was something unnatural about me, I put my hands on my hips.
“There is not. And I don’t want to room with a girl who’d spread such vicious rumors!
Besides, you snore like a freight train. ”
Clara gasped. “I do not!”
“Do too,” I retorted, childish.
She stormed around the room, gathering her things. “I’m going to wash up, and when I get back, I hope you won’t be here. I can’t even stand to look at you right now.”
She slammed the door behind her. I changed my clothes and went to breakfast. When I got back, her side of the room was empty. She had already left for the summer holiday.
I haven’t heard a peep from her since.
In hindsight, I can see that I hurt my dearest friend, and why?
To prove that there was nothing unnatural about me?
Out of a sense of loyalty to Thea? I assume that she and Charlie Mott, star of the drama club, were sneaking around like she and I used to.
But there was always a boy like the one from Penn waiting in the wings to soften the scandal.
There had to be. Last fall, a girl was expelled because of a rumor that grew legs.
Nola Hearst’s mama went to the headmistress and complained that Delphie Brennan had made unwanted advances toward her precious angel.
Mrs. Hearst couldn’t in good conscience keep Nola—or the Hearsts’ large donations—at a school with such a deviant!
Delphie claimed her advances hadn’t been unwanted—or unreciprocated—and produced a love note in Nola’s handwriting.
Nola claimed it was a prank that had gone too far.
There was an enormous fuss; everybody took sides.
Some girls called Nola a stoolie; some accused Delphie of being a depraved lesbian.
In the end, Delphie was asked to leave Miss Parker’s for good.
That’s the sort of trouble even Father couldn’t ignore.
Father’s a man of action. Not so much when it comes to his children, but when it comes to business. Or addressing potential scandals in his household. If he thought I was a deviant, he’d want to do something about it.
He might try to fix me. Like he tried to fix Anna.
The thought makes me feel hot and sick. What if Clara tells our whole circle about the way Thea was looking at me? What if she reminds them of that long-ago kiss? I don’t want word to get around that I’m fast, but it would be a thousand times worse if people thought I was a lesbian.
Am I a lesbian?
I can’t be. I have wanted boys to kiss me. It’s only that when they have, it’s been so disappointing. I felt a brief triumph when Cec chose me out of all the girls at the bonfire. But it turned out all I’d won was the dubious honor of having to let him kiss me. He had a tongue like a slug.
I spent all last summer chasing my neighbor Gil—a college boy—until I caught his attention.
Then I couldn’t wait for him to go back to Notre Dame.
Last fall I crushed on Ollie Levine after I read some of his poetry in the Parkhurst literary magazine, but he turned out to be a crashing bore in person.
Couldn’t shut up about T. S. Eliot. I kissed Stuart Hayden after the spring formal sophomore year, and that was all right, but nothing to write home about. He paled in comparison to Thea.
Will boys always pale in comparison to Thea?
I stare into the hotel pool, remembering the electricity between her and me, feeling hot and angry and ashamed. I can practically see her face, reflected in the water. Her shiny brown hair, and her red-apple lips, and her big brown eyes. But then it changes. Morphs into something—someone—else.
Her hair is shorter, darker, streaming across her face like seaweed. Her soft lips stretch into a scream.
My God. Who is that? What is that?
I scramble back from the edge of the pool, hugging my legs to my chest. My breath comes out in shuddering gasps. I feel molten, even though I’m still in the shade.
“Rosie, what’s wrong?” Ella and Grace and Coop and even Lulu are all staring at me.
They look confused. Concerned.
No one else saw her.
What is happening to me?
“A bee. There was a bee.” My voice comes out hoarse.
“Oh, don’t be silly! It won’t bother you if you don’t bother it,” Ella says. “Grace is going to phone her friends Kitty and Barb, so we’ll have even numbers for dancing. I’ll go through the pantry and see what we have in the way of snacks.”
My heart is pounding so fast. “Marvelous. I’ll dust the library.”
Grace smirks. “Rosemary Thorpe with a feather duster? Now that I’d like to see.”
Right. Grace thinks I’m soft. Spoiled. “I can sew on a button and bake an apple pie as well as any girl, thank you.”
“A domestic goddess! Hestia, reborn!” She laughs.
My heartbeat slows. A party will be just the ticket. We’ll set out potato chips and Cokes; we’ll play records and dance. Maybe I’ll meet a local boy. It’s the sort of Friday night that normal girls dream about.
Coop swims over and props one arm on the concrete next to my bare feet. “Is this really all right? I don’t want to get you in trouble with your aunt.”
I guess he noticed my scowl. I’ve never met a boy who pays attention like he does, who’s so solicitous of everyone’s feelings.
Would Auntie mind if we gave a little party? She’s so laissez-faire, it’s hard to tell.
But that’s not what gives me pause.
I think there’s something strange going on here. Something downright sinister.
It has to be this place. It has to be.
Because otherwise … it’s me.