Another Faust (22 page)

“I did, and we think we came to an ideal solution. Since you are exempt from the physical courses, we think you should consider replacing them with equivalent four-point courses. How about vocal chorus or home ec?”

Way to go, Mom!
thought Lucy.

Victoria’s nostrils flared. “How many
home economists
do you know in the White House, Ms. LeMieux?”

Ms. LeMieux blanched. “Nonetheless, we must be fair.”

“Was it fair that I was stricken with all these ailments? Do you even know the kind of breakdown I would have onstage in a choral gown?” Ms. LeMieux could imagine, since she had hated her own choral gown as a girl.

“But you go onstage for debate.”

Little cheater,
thought Lucy.

“That’s different. Please don’t make me explain the intricacies of my condition. I’m not a doctor,” said Victoria, her hands at her temples, mimicking the way the moths had shown Ms. LeMieux sitting, in her most frustrated moments. “All I want is to be
fairly
compensated for the course load I’m handling right now.”

“Hmm.” Ms. LeMieux sat silently for a few minutes. “I see your point. But still . . .”

What?
thought Lucy.
LeMieux CANNOT be buying that!

“And technically,” continued Victoria, “even though the school has rules for exemption, it has no rule saying it can dictate student schedules or restrict their classes.”

“Well, that’s true. . . .” Ms. LeMieux had made that exact argument to Mrs. Spencer. Of course, it made perfect sense. Even a child could see it. “I’ll speak to some people.”

“It’s only fair,” said Victoria.

Lucy was about to storm into the office. Victoria could feel it. Now that the issue of classes was settled, she had to deal with Lucy — show her a little of what she was messing with . . .

“Ms. LeMieux,” Victoria said, “did I tell you that I’m writing a paper on the effectiveness of UN peacekeeping tactics?”

Lucy almost choked on her Diet Snapple. That was
her
idea.

“Really?” said the counselor as she rifled through some papers. “Victoria, that is
such
a wonderful coincidence. I wrote my senior thesis at Yale on that topic!”

It had taken Lucy a month and a half to find that out — and Victoria only a moment at the party to cheat off her thoughts.

“I’m surprised that you’re writing papers already,” said Ms. LeMieux. “Have they given out assignments yet?”

Victoria smugly replied, “Learning is an assignment you give yourself.”

Ms. LeMieux ate it up with her silver spoon.

Lucy was livid.
What just happened? How did she know? It’s OK. Calm down. LeMieux will still write me a letter when I’m elected class president.

“I’m going to be elected class president,” said Victoria unprompted.

Lucy actually did choke that time. Victoria immediately regretted responding to one of Lucy’s thoughts so directly. She’d have to be more careful next time.

“Good for you,” said Ms. LeMieux as she turned to get more coffee. Victoria reached over with her foot and shut the door. That was enough eavesdropping for Lucy. When the counselor turned back to her, Victoria made a show of adjusting her thick glasses.

“About the election,” said Victoria. “I wanted to tell you about my eye condition.”

Ms. LeMieux gave a curious tilt of her head.

“Chronic Retinal Akinetic Paroxysms,” said Victoria.

She rubbed her eyes with her fists like a little girl. “I was hoping you could do me a small favor.” She opened her eyes wider and puffed out her cheeks, and then she rubbed her eyes again till they watered. A wave of shame and pity washed over Ms. LeMieux as she listened to Victoria explain about her special needs.
What an unfeeling world,
she thought. She took out her notepad and began to write.

On her way out, Ms. LeMieux’s note in hand, Victoria saw Christian leaving the office. He was there signing up for another sports team. Victoria noticed that, before he left, he pocketed the sign-up pen, a handful of paper clips, and the little frog paperweight that was sitting by the clipboard.
Pathetic,
she thought.

After another fairly uneventful day, Valentin was gathering his things to go home when Charlotte finally found him.

“Hi, Valentin. You didn’t call me after the play. You forgot about me?” she said with a pouty face.

“Of course I didn’t.” Valentin put on his charming smile and grabbed her hand. “Have a good day?”

Charlotte beamed and started to tell him about her day, her activities, her friends, and anything else that came to mind. Valentin was such a good listener; Charlotte didn’t notice she was doing all the talking. Finally she stopped and asked what he was up to.

Valentin stopped as well. His eyes darted to the wall clock, then back to her. A pause, and suddenly he lunged at her, threaded his arms around her waist, and kissed her deep on the lips. She wouldn’t slap him like Missy had done. “Young man!” interrupted a teacher who had just that second turned the corner. Valentin pulled back; Charlotte blushed and touched her mouth. Valentin nodded to the teacher. He winked at Charlotte and thrust his hand in his pocket. Then everything went in reverse — the shout, the teacher, the kiss. Charlotte was back in the hall, never having been kissed. She said again, “Enough about me. What’re you up to?”

Valentin glanced at the clock, her lips, the teacher coming around the corner. Charlotte wondered what he was smiling about. “I’m going home. I want to work on my poetry book,” Valentin said.

“Really? Did you know that I won the school prize last year for my short stories?”

“Well, I’m sure you’re better than me.”

Charlotte blushed and started to tell him about a story she was working on from the perspective of a vegetarian Venus flytrap. It made parallels to her parents’ first divorce and also the Taliban.

“You know, you can enter your own original composition into the State Debate and Drama Tournament that’s coming up. That’s the best way to get started,” she suggested.

Valentin, who already knew this, pretended to be thankful for the information. After a few more minutes of listening to Charlotte talk, he said, “Maybe we could get together one day and, you know, have a private reading.”

“I would really like that,” said Charlotte.

“And if you want, I could take a look at the prize-winning short story,” Valentin said in his most buttery tone.

So they set a date to meet after school, and Valentin convinced Charlotte to bring her journal. They walked together to where their cars were waiting. Charlotte looked down, wanting to reach out and take Valentin’s hand again, but it was in his pocket.

Valentin jogged to the black Town Car waiting for him in front of the school and hopped in. His sisters were already waiting there. Belle was complaining to Bicé about Lucy Spencer, and Victoria was pretending to read an Oxford brochure.

“They’re dating. He’s actually
dating
Lucy,” Belle wailed, having just heard the news from her blond spy network. “And she told everyone we’re
orphans.
”

“So what? We
were
adopted,” said Bicé. “At least you and I are still together.”

Victoria and Belle exchanged a glance. Belle changed the subject.

“She told Thomas that I had plastic surgery.”

Bicé laughed a bit and started picking a loose thread on the seat cushion. Again, the memory of when her sister looked just like her was like a painful ball of lead in her heart. “You did more than that, Belle. Be thankful that’s all she thinks.”

“I hope he doesn’t believe her,” said Belle.

“Haven’t you talked to him?” asked Bicé.

“Not since a few days ago in the dining hall.” Belle smiled coyly. “He’s with Lucy, and I’m going to play the Connor angle until he breaks up with her.”

“What do you mean?”

“I spent the day letting Connor show me around. I ignored Thomas. It was so hard.”

“That’s immature,” said Bicé.

“Right, like you’re the one to give relationship advice.” Belle immediately felt sorry for that remark. “I’m sorry, Bicé, but I’ll stop ignoring him after he’s in love with me.”

“What if he never falls in love with you?” Victoria said without looking up from her brochure. She had been “reading” the page on housing options for the last twenty minutes.

“He will.”

“Boys are such a waste of time. Today at lunch, I was standing behind one of them in the cafeteria line. And he was thinking that if the girl in front of him got the turkey, he would ask her to the spring dance. Then when she did get the turkey, he thought,
If she gets ice cream, I’ll ask her.
Then when she got ice cream too, he thought,
I’ll ask her if she pays with exact change.
And it went on and on like that till she went to her table and he slumped off. It was pathetic. Why waste your time on losers, Belle?”

“Thomas wasn’t a loser when you found out his dad owns half the city. And when we’re married, we’re not inviting you to any of our parties.”

“Oh, no!” said Victoria in a mocking tone. “How will I sleep tonight? Please,
please,
Belle. Say you’ll invite me to your parties.”

The door flung open and Christian jumped in.

“I won all the sprints in swim practice today,” he said excitedly.

“Big surprise,” Victoria said. “How can you be excited knowing that you’ve done about two percent of everything you wanted to do this year?”

Christian shrugged and went on. “I talked to Connor again today. Nice guy. We’re playing golf so he can teach me some stuff.”

“Why would you practice with him?” said Victoria. “You could go pro. He’s some random —”

“Yeah, I know,” Christian interrupted. “But it’d be nice to make some friends —” Christian stopped himself. “He plays tennis too. He’s won a lot of trophies. I just want to watch my back.”

“How strategic,” said Valentin.

“But, Christian, you knew all that already,” said Bicé.

“I’m a bit worried now, I guess. After seeing all his records. We’re teammates in basketball too — I just want to keep an eye on him.”

“Devious. Positively devilish,” said Valentin.

“You know the Scholar-Athlete Prize at the end of the year? Everyone thinks Connor will win it.”

“Don’t worry,” said Bicé, patting his arm. “They’ve barely seen
you
yet.”

“It’s not that easy. It’s a yearly award. Being the best in one semester won’t be enough for all the time he’s been here. I’d have to win at everything, steal from everybody, basically demolish the guy.”

“That’s the beauty of it,” said Victoria. “You have everything you need to get it done. What’s the problem?”

“I was hoping I could do it without that.”

“That’s pathetic,” Victoria said in a disgusted tone, and went back to reading.