My Perfect Life (17 page)

“Uh oh,” said Morty.

The only other sound for about two full seconds was Dr Alsop trying to breathe.

I looked straight into Carla Santini’s eyes, green today to match her suit. “Poor Ella,” said her smile. “You’re about to become road-kill.”

And that’s when I realized.
Oh, my God…
I thought.
How could I be so blind?
That was why Lola wasn’t there. Because Carla had made sure that she wasn’t. Carla wouldn’t dare attack me like that if Lola were there, because she knew Lola would retaliate. And she knew that I wouldn’t. She knew I’d crumble completely and sit helplessly by while she humiliated me in front of the entire school. With a little bit of luck I might even throw up – or at least cry. That would really make her day.

You can’t
…
You can’t
…
You can’t
…
You can’t
… Lola was right; that was what I always said. It was what I always felt. It was what I was feeling now.
You can’t do this … you can’t do that … obey all rules and always be polite.

But as I looked into the perfect face of Carla Santini, something inside of me snapped into place. What I couldn’t do was let her get away with this; that was what I really couldn’t do.

I stood up at the microphone, shaking but eerily calm. I turned to Carla with the cool smile of true loathing.

“I’m glad you raised that question, Carla.” I couldn’t have sounded sweeter. “I know that most of us here in Dellwood are very lucky. Luckier than a lot of people. We have every advantage our society offers. We take for granted a lot of things that other people consider luxuries. A disaster is if the car won’t start or the outfit we wanted to wear hasn’t come back from the cleaners. But that doesn’t mean that our lives are really as perfect as they seem.” I moved a little closer to the microphone, gently edging Carla out of the way. “All of us have problems that we have to deal with, even the luckiest among us.” I glanced over at Carla. “The veneer of perfection can hide a lot of horrors.” I turned back to the audience. “I’m sure that my mother isn’t the only adult in Dellwood with a drinking problem.” A few sniggers rippled through the audience. “Just as I’m sure that a lot of us have to deal with other things that are even worse.” I picked a blur in the middle of the auditorium and stared straight at it. “Most of us deal with our problems by pretending that they don’t exist. So instead of getting better, they get worse and worse. That’s why I feel it’s important that there is somewhere where we can discuss them and receive, if not solutions, at least support. It’s only by openly facing things that we can begin to make our lives really perfect.”

If I’d been in a movie, that would have been the moment when the entire student body of Dellwood High School stood up, applauding, and an angel won his wings.

But I wasn’t, of course. And angels in Dellwood are thin on the ground.

Carla rounded on me as soon as the last word was out of my mouth.

“Oh, listen to you…” she crowed. “I’m surprised you don’t have violins playing in the background.” She rolled her eyes at Alma in the front row. “It’s typical, isn’t it, Ella, that you want everyone to feel sorry for you, instead of acting responsibly and solving your problems yourself.”

Nearly two decades of reticence and good breeding beat a hasty retreat. “Oh, that’s pretty rich,” I said. I wasn’t shaking any more. “Coming from you.”

“And just what do you mean by that?”

There was a popping sound and the mike went dead.

“Sound!” shouted several voices at once. “Sound!”

Neither Carla nor I gave a hair clip about sound.

“I’ll tell you exactly what I mean,” I answered.

It was downhill after that.

Dr Alsop eventually stepped in and more or less literally pulled us apart.

“Ladies!” he shouted. “Ladies, please! This is a little more energy and passion than is really necessary!”

Carla and I kept right on.

Dr Alsop started flapping his arms. “Close the curtains!” he ordered. “Close the curtains!”

Somebody turned out the lights.

That’s when the audience stood up and cheered.

After
the sound and the lights came back on, Dr Alsop quietened everyone down and made one of his impromptu speeches. Amazingly enough, he wasn’t really angry over what happened; just a bit overwhelmed.

Dr Alsop claimed our election was the most interesting, vital, and truest in spirit to American democracy of any that he’d seen in his many long years as a professional educator. Happy that all of his education and hard work had finally paid off, he beamed at us. “This is the most enthusiasm the Dellwood High student body has ever shown in its own government,” he concluded, “and I’m proud of every one of you.”

There was more clapping and cheering at that, and then Dr Alsop made Morty, Carla and me shake hands and wish each other luck. Like boxers.

“And come out fighting,” Morty whispered as I shook Carla’s hand.

“May the best candidate win!” cried Dr Alsop.

Alma, Tina and Marcia started to chant. “You know she’s the best! You know she’s the best!”

“Oh, I plan to,” purred Carla.

Only the three of us on the stage with Carla heard her; and only Dr Alsop thought she was making a joke.

As Carla strode down the stairs at the front in what can only be described as a triumphant procession of one, the Santini satellites all gathered around her.

I looked over at Morty. “You think she already won and nobody told us?”

“Well, she seems to think so.” Morty sighed. “Maybe I shouldn’t’ve pulled the plug on the mike. I was trying to stop her from blabbing your private stuff all over the school, but it looks like I protected her from publicly revealing her darker side.”

“You did your best.” Together we walked down the stairs after Carla.

“So did you,” said Morty. “You were fantastic. I wish I had a picture of Carla’s face when you were giving your perfect life speech. I’d have it framed and would hang it in the office.”

To tell the truth, I was feeling pretty triumphant myself. I felt like a new woman. By my standards (which were admittedly low), I’d done really well. I’d stood up to the Santini and lived. I could probably get into the
Guinness Book of Records
for that.

We were still behind Carla and her entourage as we shuffled out of the auditorium.

“Look!” I pulled Morty’s arm. “There’s Lola and Sam.”

They were standing together just outside the doors.

Morty and I both waved, but only Sam waved back. Lola was already marching towards Carla, her shawl flapping behind her and a murderous look in her eyes.

“Lordy, Lordy,” muttered Morty. “I think we’re about to find out why Lola missed the debate.”

The Santini radar was still working. Overwhelmed by her own success and practically smothered by her supporters, Carla still clocked Lola before Lola could open her mouth.

“Lola!” screeched Carla. “Thank God you’re all right.” Her voice showed both relief and concern. She was acting her heart out. “We were all so worried when you didn’t show up for the debate. I mean, it’s not like you to leave Ella on her own like that. We were afraid something must have happened to you.”

“Really?” Lola came to a stop, blocking Carla’s way. Her smile was luminous. “How touching.”

“I’m sure Ella will tell you all about it.” Carla made a move to get past Lola. “You’re in my way, Lola.” She was still smiling. “I have a class to get to.”

“Not yet, you don’t,” said Lola Cep. “You and I are going to have a little talk first.” She raised her head for better projection. “Sam and I have a chilling, dastardly tale to tell.”

In an almost unprecedented display of independent thought and action, Alma Vitters linked her arm through Carla’s and took a step forward, “Come on, Carla,” said Alma. “We don’t have time for this crap.”

Lola didn’t budge. “But you do have time for kidnapping.”

You have to hand it to Lola; she knows how to catch people’s attention. Everyone had been edging around them, but now they slowed down or stopped. One or two even turned back.

“Kidnapping?” Carla shrieked with laughter.

In a perfect example of a chain reaction, Alma, Tina and Marcia all started shrieking with laughter, too.

“Are you accusing me of
kidnapping
someone?”

Lola’s look was haughty. She was doing her Dietrich. “I’m accusing you of kidnapping
me
,” she replied. “And of tampering with my bike.” Sam gave her a poke with his elbow. “And Sam’s car.”

“Oh, please…” Carla looked so flabbergasted and sounded so genuine she could probably have passed a lie-detector test. “You know, you really should be on medication, Lola. The strain of living among normal people’s beginning to show.”

“You mean the strain of trying to act like a human is beginning to show in you,” countered Lola.

Carla adjusted her books with a deep sigh. “Try to listen to me, Lola – and try to understand. I’ve been here since eight o’clock this morning, helping to set up the auditorium for the debate.” She glanced at the coven. “Isn’t that right?”

“That’s right,” said Alma.

Tina and Marcia nodded. Vigorously.

“And these are supposed to be independent witnesses, are they?” asked Lola.

“If you don’t believe us, ask Dr Alsop,” cut in Alma. She was obviously practising for the office of Vice President. “We met him in the carpark.”

“And what does that prove?” demanded Lola. “You’ve never been one to do your own dirty work if you could find someone else to do it for you.”

“You really are letting your considerable imagination run away with you, you know.” Carla’s sigh was filled with pity. “Just why do you think I’d want to have you kidnapped, if you don’t mind my asking? It’s not as though anyone would pay ransom for you, is it?”

“You know why you did it. So I’d miss the debate.”

“You really do think the planet revolves around you, don’t you?” Carla smirked. “In case you didn’t realize, Lola, you weren’t supposed to be in the debate. It was just the Presidential candidates.”

The coven sniggered.

“And let’s get another thing straight,” Carla went on. “If I did have you kidnapped, you wouldn’t be standing here trying to make yourself look important.” She started to walk away, but her eyes were on Lola like hooks. “You’d be halfway to Alaska by now.”

Lola, Sam, Morty, Farley and I all gathered on the lawn at lunch for the telling of the full chilling, dastardly tale of Lola’s close brush with death and kidnapping.

“So anyway,” Lola was saying, “there I was, bruised and shaken, pushing my bike along Rushmore Drive when this girl stopped and offered me a ride.” She paused – as much for dramatic effect as to take her lunch from her book bag.

“A girl?” asked Farley. “What girl? Did you know her? Did she come from around here?”

“God,” Lola sighed. “How I admire the scientific mind.”

“Did you check the tyre, Sam?” asked Morty. “Do you really think it was tampered with?”

Sam shrugged. “It’s possible, but it’s hard to tell.”

Lola sighed again. “Am I going to get to tell my story, or what? I mean, it’s not every day that I get kidnapped, you know.”

“You seem to be taking it pretty well,” offered Farley.

“I always try to be philosophical, and see the good in the bad,” explained Lola. “For an actress, being kidnapped is a priceless experience.”

“I don’t know…” Farley was shaking his head. “A flat tyre could’ve been dangerous. Do you really think Carla would sabotage you like that?”

Lola, Sam, and I all answered at once. “You don’t?”

Morty pushed his glasses back up his nose. “But it could’ve been a coincidence, couldn’t it?”

Lola’s laugh was shrill with derision. “Today of all days? You don’t think that’s a little unlikely?”

“Unlikely, but not improbable,” said Morty.

Sam pointed his juice carton at him. “I’ll tell you what’s not only unlikely, but also completely improbable, and that’s that I ran out of gas. I do not run out of gas. Not ever. Somebody drained my tank.”

“So then what happened?” asked Farley.

“Well…” Lola put her sandwich down and looked at each of us in turn. “Then this girl in a Cherokee stopped and offered me a ride.”

“And you took it?” Farley looked genuinely shocked. “Didn’t your mother ever tell you not to take rides from strangers?”

“But it was a girl!” Lola protested. “She wasn’t much older than we are. Who expects trouble from a girl?”

You’d think she’d never met Carla Santini, wouldn’t you?

“So then what happened?” asked Farley.

“She said she had to stop somewhere before she took me home,” Lola continued. “Only it took her a while to mention that that one stop was the mall. And then when we got there, she suddenly remembered a dental appointment, so she left me – and that was the last I saw of her.”

“Did you catch her number plate?” asked Morty.

Lola picked up her sandwich and slowly began to unwrap it. “Sadly, Morton, you weren’t there to offer the benefits of your logical mind. And I was a little too wound up worrying about the debate to actually think about writing down her car number plate.”

“It’s not really very convincing, is it?” Morty has the indomitable perseverance of the born scientist. “I mean, you got a puncture, you fell in the bushes, and you got a ride from some space cadet. You can’t prove anything. It would never hold up in court.”

“I wasn’t planning to press charges,” Lola informed him. “Anyway, it turned out that Ella didn’t need my presence to defeat Carla.” She smiled at me. “And all’s well that ends well, isn’t it?”

A dark shadow fell over our little group.

“Aren’t you forgetting something, Lola?” Carla enquired politely.

Lola suddenly bit into her sandwich. “And what’s that?” she asked through a mouthful of bread and cheese.

“It’s not over till tomorrow afternoon.”

It wasn’t like me at all, but the truth was that I didn’t give a hoot what Carla said. I’d been given a standing ovation. Now when I walked down the hallways of Deadwood High, people nodded, smiled and said hello. A few even gave me the thumbs up. For the first time since the election began, I felt that there was actually a chance – no matter how small – that I could win.