Debutante Hill (14 page)

She turned and started down the hall. As Lynn stood, gazing after her sister, beneath her anger there was the sneaking knowledge that Dodie was justified in what she said. There had been many times when she had refused to double with Dodie on the grounds that she was too young.

As she reached the head of the stairs, however, Dodie turned back.

“Look,” she said, “I'm not just being mean about this. Ronnie really wouldn't double with Dirk, no matter what I said. We've talked about him before, and Ronnie feels pretty strongly about him. He doesn't like the way he acts or the kind of crowd he runs around with or the way he doesn't do any work after school when his dad needs help. I wouldn't even want to
ask
him about doubling.”

“O.K.,” Lynn said. “O.K., we'll get along just fine without you. Better, in fact. Dirk probably doesn't like Ronnie, either.”

“No,” Dodie agreed placidly, “he probably doesn't.”

The next morning, after breakfast Paul came over, and again Lynn wished she had not agreed to go out with Dirk, for when she saw him standing in the doorway, she felt her anger slipping away.

“Hi!” he said. “Are you going to shut the door in my face?”

“No,” Lynn answered. “Of course not. I don't shut doors in people's faces.”

“Even people who hang up on you?”

“Even them.” She smiled at him in spite of herself. “Come on in, Paul.”

He came in, regarding her hesitantly. When he spoke, his voice sounded very young. “You're not mad any more?”

Lynn shook her head. “I guess not. I mean, not the way I was yesterday.”

“Well, I'm glad of that,” Paul said in relief. “I'm sorry I hung up on you. I guess I got kind of mad myself. It just wasn't like you to act that way. I mean, gosh, it wasn't as though I really wanted to take Brenda. It was just one of those things you get pushed into doing and then can't get out of again. Besides, she isn't such a bad kid. She only needs people to like her.”

Lynn choked down the sharp comment that sprang to the tip of her tongue. Instead she asked, “How was the party last night?”

“It was a good one,” Paul said easily, seating himself on the sofa and relaxing against the upholstered arm. “All the gang was there. There was a really great orchestra, and they had the club decorated to beat the band. I hear the Presentation Ball next spring is going to be the party to end all
parties. They've already hired an orchestra to come in from out of town to play for it.”

“Are you—” Lynn hated to ask the question, but she had to. “Are you very sorry I'm not a debutante?”

“Sure, I'm sorry,” Paul answered frankly. “It's a darned shame we can't go to all these things, but you certainly couldn't be a debutante and have your father campaigning against it at the same time.”

“What do you mean, campaigning against it?” Lynn asked in surprise. “You mean, Daddy's been talking to people about it?”

“You mean, you didn't know?” Now it was Paul's turn to look surprised. “Why, my dad said your father gave a twenty-minute talk in Rotary Club the other day, all about how having debutantes in a place this size would divide the town into classes and wreck the whole democratic attitude. He said the whole purpose of a public high school is to help kids make friends from all kinds of backgrounds, and having chosen girls make their debuts would destroy that ideal entirely. Dad said it was quite a speech. He said he thought your father had something there. Of course, some of the other men disagreed with him, but they were mostly the ones with daughters who were debutantes.”

“How do you feel about it?” Lynn asked. “Do you think Daddy's right?”

“Yes,” Paul said slowly, “I guess he is, really. It's hard on you, though, having to miss the parties.”

“And on you,” Lynn added. “Paul—” Now that he had not asked, she could offer it to him. “Paul, would you like to—to—be free to go to the parties? I mean, without me?”

“Oh, don't be silly!” Paul exclaimed impatiently. “I don't
care that much about parties. You and I will have fun during the holidays, and nuts to everybody else.”

“You really mean it?”

“Sure.” Paul reached over and took her hand. “Last night as I was all set to leave, Mrs. Peterson got me off in a corner and asked me if I'd take Brenda to tonight's party, a treasure hunt of some kind. She said the same guy usually escorted the same girl to all the holiday parties, and she was counting on me to take Brenda. You know what I told her? I said, ‘I'm sorry, I've got a date tomorrow night with Lynn Chambers.'” He grinned at her. “So start thinking what you want to do.”

“I—tonight?” Lynn's throat was dry. “Why—I didn't know we had a date tonight”

“Well, of course, we do. Hey—” His blue eyes darkened. “This isn't a run-around, is it Lynn? I told you on the phone that we'd go out tonight. I thought you said you weren't still mad.”

“I'm not,” Lynn said quickly. “It's not that I'm mad. It's just—well, I already have a date for tonight.”

“You, what?” Paul stared at her. “Oh, come off it Lynn, I said I'm sorry. What more do you want me to do, grovel on the floor, begging you to go out with me?”

“No, I
do
have a date,” Lynn insisted. “I'm sorry. I wish I didn't. It's just that yesterday, right after I talked to you, while I was still angry, Dirk Masters called and—”

“Dirk Masters!” Paul exclaimed, jerking himself erect “Don't tell me you're dating that guy! Look here, Lynn, you can just call him back and tell him nothing doing. You've got a date with me for tonight and that's that.”

“I'm sorry,” Lynn said again. “I would if I could but
Paul, I can't. I promised him. I can't break it now, any more than you could break your date with Brenda last night.”

“It's another thing entirely,” Paul said stiffly, getting to his feet. “Brenda's a nice kid who needed an escort to a party. Dirk's a tough little smart aleck who's never been out with a decent girl in his life. If you think I'll let you go out with a guy like that—”

“I'm afraid you don't have much to say about it,” Lynn said shortly. “What makes you think you can boss me around, telling me what I can and can't do? Just because I'm wearing your ring doesn't mean you own me, body and soul.”

“Well, you won't be wearing my ring for long,” Paul said angrily, “if you don't start acting like your old self again. I know darned well the only reason you are going out with Dirk is to get even with me for taking Brenda to the party. Well, I told you I was sorry for that. I refused to take her out again. I don't know what else you expect me to do about it.”

“I don't expect you to do anything!” snapped Lynn.

“Well, fine,” Paul said. “Because I don't intend to. The next step's up to you. I've got some work to do on my car, before I can go any place tonight, so I'm going to go home and get at it. If you want to go out with me, you give me a call before noon. If I don't hear from you by then, I'm going to call Mrs. Peterson back and tell her I will take Brenda tonight.”

“Which is probably what you want to do, anyway,” Lynn said bitterly.

But this time Paul did not even bother to answer.

Now everything is even worse than it was before, Lynn thought miserably, as she dressed for her date with Dirk that evening.

She had been sorely tempted to phone Paul. He had said he would wait for her until noon. All it would have taken to make things right between them was one little phone call.

But I couldn't, Lynn told herself now, adjusting the belt to her dress and giving herself a last disinterested glance in the mirror. It's not just a matter of pride. Paul is wrong, but I don't mind being the one to try to patch things up. That's what a girl is for. I couldn't call off the date with Dirk, though, not after I promised him. Surely Paul could have understood that.

She thought about Dirk and the way it had been between them that night at his home—the way he had looked at her for the first time, a long look, without the usual mockery or defiance in his eyes; the sound of his voice when he said, “About the other evening—I'm sorry.”

She thought, I couldn't break a date with him. Not after that. Why, that night we were almost friends. If I do something to hurt him now, all that will be lost. Any influence I have over him would be gone. I'd never be able to get through to him again and help him to be the kind of person he can be, if he tries.

And even through her misery about Paul, she felt a slight stirring of excitement at the idea of having the power to reform Dirk.

She tried to put Paul out of her mind as she went down the stairs to answer the doorbell.

As it happened, it was not Dirk who stood in the living
room, talking to her parents, but Ronnie Turner. He stood up as Lynn entered. It was the first time Lynn had met him, and she was surprised at what a nice-looking boy he was, with his sandy hair and straightforward eyes. She knew he was several years younger than Dirk, but when she shook hands with him, she had the feeling that somehow he was much older. There was a steadiness about him and a kind of strength. When he and Dodie left together, he put his hand on her arm with a protective little gesture that made Dr. Chambers turn to his wife with a smile.

“Nice boy,” he commented briefly.

And she said, “Yes, I think he'll be good for Dodie.”

A few moments later, the bell sounded again, and it was Dirk.

He was neatly dressed, with his hair carefully combed back from his forehead, instead of tumbled forward in its usual rakish manner. He was handsome, Lynn thought, as soon as she saw him—handsomer by far than Ronnie, or even than Paul. But she had the feeling when they left the house that her father would not turn to her mother after they were gone and say, “Nice boy.” She wondered exactly what he would say. It was hard to guess.

As they reached the street, Dirk took her arm and steered her to a car parked there.

“Brad's car again?” Lynn asked. She could not keep the disapproval out of her voice.

“Sure,” Dirk said, a hint of the old mockery back in his voice as he climbed in beside her. “You don't feel like walking, do you? You know, we all can't have our own private limousine, like some guys I know.”

“Maybe not,” Lynn said, ignoring the implication, “but
I wouldn't have minded taking the bus. They're kind of fun, really. I'd rather that than have you have to borrow a car from somebody like Brad.”

Dirk started up the engine and drove down the Hill Road. “What do you have against Brad? You've hardly met him.”

“Anne has told me about him.”

“Oh, Anne! Well, she's just got a kind of thing on about him because he's older than the other guys and has been around more. Anne's like that.” He turned toward her with a sudden, almost pleading look. “Look, let's not argue about anything tonight. I mean, I'll try my darndest to act like you want me to, and you—well, why don't you try to like me. I mean, really try.”

“That won't be hard,” Lynn said. “I do like you. I'm sorry if I started right off being critical.”

Dirk pulled to a halt at the entrance to the River Road.

“What would you like to do? I know you don't want to go any place like Charlie's. What about a movie?”

“Oh, I don't know,” Lynn answered. “I guess a movie would be fine.” She did not feel particularly like seeing a movie, but she couldn't think of anything else.

The movie, when they got there, was a dull one. Dirk did not suggest sitting in the balcony, probably because the rest of his crowd would be located there and he had promised Lynn that they would not be with
them
tonight. Instead, they sat down in front, in the only available seats, a little too close to the screen. They arrived in the middle of the picture, and it was almost over before Lynn began to understand what it was all about and by the time she did understand, she was too bored with it to care. It seemed
much later than ten o'clock when they finally left the theater and got into the car.

Dirk asked, “Where to now?”

He sounded a little desperate. Lynn knew he was trying to give her a nice evening, and yet somehow it just wasn't panning out. All she wanted to do was go home and go to bed. The scene with Paul that morning had left her spent and exhausted emotionally, but of course, Dirk had no way of knowing this. If she asked to go home now, he would think it was because of him, and with all the effort he was making, she did not want him to think that Lynn suggested, “Why don't we just drive a little while?”

Dirk seemed pleased. “O.K. That's what I wanted to do myself, only I didn't think you'd want to.”

He drove slowly. When he passed the entrance to the Hill Road, Lynn could see the Peterson house, brightly lighted with all the gaiety of a party. There was a string of cars parked outside, leading all the way down the street and several others were just pulling up. A crowd of young people stood on the sidewalk outside the house, gathered around what must have been their collection of “treasures.” Lynn caught sight of a broad-shouldered boy bent a little forward, talking to a girl. In the darkness, she could not tell who it was, but there was something about the way the boy was standing, with his head cocked a little to one side, that made her think of Paul.

She thought it could be Paul! And the girl could be Brenda! And if it isn't—well, what difference does it make? He's there with her some place.

There was an ache in her chest almost too great to bear.