Another Faust (43 page)

“Hmm . . . Well, I’m not sure if you’re aware, but Ms. Mendez has asthma, and she has still followed the normal curriculum, including gym, and —”

“So? Asthma is irrelevant! You don’t learn with your lungs! This is because she’s Hispanic, isn’t it? That’s what this is all about!”

Ms. LeMieux gasped. She was about to respond when she saw Valentin approaching from behind Victoria. Ever since the Christmas play, Ms. LeMieux had been wary of Valentin, finding him very odd. She edged away as he moved closer and shot her a smile bordering on sleazy. She quickly said good-bye and walked away. Valentin called after her, “It’s OK, Trisha, sweetheart. It meant nothing.”

“Who’s Trisha?”

“Trisha LeMieux. That sweet thing walking away.”

“Val, that’s gross. She’s like thirty.”

“Forty. I thought I’d get in while it was still illegal. Another three years before I have to switch to nine-year-olds,” Valentin said with a leer.

“Gross!”

“Kidding . . . Geez, I heard your little tantrum from across the room.”

“There’s always something. The stupid moths didn’t —”

“Look, Vic. You know what your problem is?”

Victoria didn’t want another lecture on being less catty or not thinking only about herself. She got enough of those from Bicé. “What?” she said in an exasperated tone.

“You’re not subtle enough.”

“Whatever.”

“Fine, don’t listen. I’ve got plenty of things to do. And then do again.”

Valentin walked away from Victoria feeling utterly superior. He looked back and saw her chewing her nails, staring intently at Belle and Thomas, who had just walked in. She had a smile on her face, as if she was glad to see them together. Then he saw Christian standing with Bicé. They were whispering to each other conspiratorially and watching Belle with the same intentness as Victoria. Valentin reached into his pocket. He remembered that Christian had still not heard the first poem that he read at the tournament. He had been rescuing Belle and missed it.

“Hey, Christian,” he said, a little too enthusiastically. Christian jumped. “Hey, I need a quick favor.”

“Sure. What?”

“Would you just listen to me read this poem? It’s the one I wrote for the tournament yesterday.”

“Now? Val, are you nuts?”

Valentin looked like he had no idea what Christian was talking about. “OK, read it yourself, then. Here.” He tried to force the page into Christian’s hand. But Christian just looked at him, shocked.

“Valentin.” Bicé jumped in with a suspicious look. “This is not the right time.”

“OK. Maybe later tonight, then?”

“Why does it have to be tonight?” said Christian. “We have a lot to deal with right now, Valentin.”

“OK, later tonight, then.” Valentin licked his lips nervously. “Later . . . when we’re home . . . when you’re not overwhelmed. It’ll only take a second.” Valentin quickly walked away before Christian could object.

Bicé shot a glance at Christian and then looked at Belle again. Christian looked mad. “Why is he always rubbing it in my face?”

“Oh, that’s not what he’s doing. You’re the only real friend he has.”

“B, he’s rubbing it in my face. Every chance he gets. I’m starting to get sick of it.”

“Can we just get back to the clues? We know Vic made a deal with Vileroy. Obviously she wants to get back at Belle. Obviously it’s got to have something to do with Thomas. She hates them both . . .” Christian nodded as Bicé counted on her fingers.

Belle laughed as Thomas whispered something in her ear. She seemed completely unaware of all the people around her, behaving more and more indifferently as they moved closer to her. She didn’t mind. That’s what she wanted, to be alone with Thomas. At first, when he had picked her up for the dance, it seemed that he was fighting with himself. Part of him wanted to be aloof. To ignore her. To act as if he didn’t care. Another part of him didn’t understand why he was acting that way. Hadn’t he sprinted to her door only five minutes before? That part of him wanted to tell her how wonderful she looked. And in the end, he did. Belle was ecstatic to see that even though he twitched and fought with himself a few times, he was basically attentive and very interested in everything she did and said. Maybe tonight, he would finally get over his shyness and make a move. She wasn’t hoping for much. Any kind of progress from his current comfort zone of cheeks and forehead would be welcome.
What’s wrong here?
Belle asked herself.
Maybe he only likes to kiss at formal occasions. He kissed Lucy at the Christmas party.
It was something to cling to.

From a distance, Victoria and Bicé were both watching Belle. But Belle didn’t notice. She was having too much fun. Thomas seemed so proud of her for helping him at the tournament. He had always found her charming and beautiful. But to have such a smart girlfriend seemed to make him inflate. He tried to approach some of his friends with Belle on his arm, but they all recoiled. The only one even remotely interested in them was Lucy, who was hanging on to Connor Wirth’s arm while never taking her eyes off Thomas. In the rare moments when Thomas looked over, she clung tighter to Connor and tried to pretend she was having the best time ever.

Across the room, Valentin was eyeing a group of girls sitting on one of the couches. He noticed the one in the middle — overweight, bad skin, tacky dress, and a mean look on her face as if she didn’t need friends anyway. Wow, she could use some help. She was probably the type of girl who had to be forced by her mother to come to the dance. Valentin stuffed his poem back into his pocket. As he walked toward her, he became more and more aware of his own body — sleek, handsome; designer shirt tucked in, golden hair brushed back. He felt perfect. Looking at the poor, pathetic girls in front of him made him feel a rush. And that was a bigger turn-on than all the spritely beauties who were casually glancing in his direction.

“Hey, ladies. Who wants to dance?” he said as he eyed the wallflowers with a hungry look. The fat one backed away. Valentin put on his saddest face.

“You’re turning me down? Not even a ‘maybe’?” He gave the sweetest look he could muster. Yes, that’s the one he wanted. That’s the one who would make him feel flawless. A girl like that would put up with anything. He wouldn’t have to lie; wouldn’t have to change anything.
Like throwing a party in a crack house. No need to clean up afterward.

The girl looked at him with suspicion, but then smiled. There was a bit of fear in her smile. It made Valentin want to dance with her even more.

“Isn’t that sweet?” a pretty young girl nearby said to her friend. “He’s trying to make her feel better.”

“Yeah, he’s a really nice guy.”

The night flew by quickly for the Faust children. All except Bicé, who spent the entire night thinking and being afraid. She knew something was coming. She had heard the conversation between Victoria and Vileroy, the deal being hatched. It was enough to distract her from all thoughts of Christian’s childhood letter, his disappearing mark, or his plan to escape. For a moment, she looked at Belle. She saw the way Thomas looked at her. He laughed at something she said. But more than anything, he was mesmerized by her beauty. Suddenly Bicé felt a dreadful knowing feeling wash over her. She knew what was coming and dashed toward her sister.

“Belle. Belle, you have to listen to me.”

“Bicé! Can’t you see I’m busy? Sorry, Thomas, but my sister is in one of her moods.”

Bicé cowered for a minute and then gathered herself. “Belle, you have to listen. Vileroy and Victoria, they’re — well, I’m not sure what they’re doing. I think you should go home.”

“Oh, no. Not another insane conspiracy theory. I’ve had enough from Maggie.”

“Huh? No, listen. You should go home now.”

“OK, whatever. Can you please go away?”

Belle pushed her sister aside and walked with Thomas to another private corner.

Just as Bicé was about to follow them, she was overtaken by Maggie and Charlotte, who had just left Lucy’s side and were making their way back to Belle. They were hysterical.

“Bicé, Bicé — we have to stop Lucy!”

Bicé had no patience for them. “I have to go. Belle needs me.”

“Belle? Did you say Belle? Lucy did something, didn’t she? Did she steal Thomas?”

They sounded concerned, but the look in their eyes wasn’t a look of worry. They looked exhilarated and eager. Bicé tried to keep walking, all the while watching Belle from the corner of her eye, wanting desperately to get to her so she could take her away from here. Bicé made a beeline toward Belle, but before she could reach her — yet another distraction — she heard someone clearing her throat into the microphone.

“Welcome to the Marlowe School spring dance, everyone!”

Ms. LeMieux and Coach K were standing in the front of the room. Ms. LeMieux spoke first, looking at Coach K with big, condescending eyes every few minutes to make sure he was following.

“We hope you’ve had a lovely evening. As you all know, one of the biggest honors at Marlowe, the Scholar-Athlete Prize, is traditionally presented at the spring dance.”

She waited a moment for applause. When none came, she went on. “Coach K and I represent the two fields in which this phenomenal student has excelled: athletics” — she nodded to Coach K — “and scholarship” — she stretched to her full height. “In a short time, this student has shown that great things can be achieved by someone very young. This student has been a role model to the class —”

Before she could finish, Coach K stepped in. There was a mild applause that died down quickly when she gave them a dirty glance. “Without further ado, we present this year’s winner of the Marlowe Scholar-Athlete Prize . . .”

Christian couldn’t help himself. He was curious. Even though his heart wasn’t in it, he wanted to know if they had noticed him, if they thought he was the best. He still wanted to win, to get one step closer to an easy life, or rather one step further from a hard one.

“Connor Wirth.”

Christian looked at his shoes. The class erupted. Connor started to jog toward the front, while all his friends patted him on the back.

“In his years at Marlowe, Connor Wirth has led the school to numerous championships in golf, swimming, and basketball, all the while setting a positive example for his fellow classmates. His integrity, sportsmanlike attitude, persistence in the face of adversity, and competitive drive are admirable, and the reason that he is this year’s Scholar-Athlete.”