A Girl's Story Read online

  “She’s always laughing," Theodora said to Veronica, “Let’s get you two dressed. Veronica you do Carolina’s make-up. We need to make her look older. Nothing personal Carolina.”

  “Love is always patient and kind... it does not take offense.” Carolina said in an off-kilter way that embarrassed me.

  I knew she had drunk too much. I glanced over at Theodora and Veronica with nervous apprehension, but they laughed in a kind and happy way. Okay good, I thought to myself, they thought she was funny. I had worried that Carolina’s habit of quoting and talking about subjects that were normally taught in school would put them off of her.

  I finished my Champagne with a gulp. A bad idea. It was not a drink a person should guzzle. I sneezed and the liquid shot out from my nose. My friends laughed harder.

  Anthony opened my door. “What’s so funny? I want to see.” I ran to the door and slammed it in his little face. “Sorry Carolina isn’t dressed. We’ll be out in a few minutes.”

  “Come on,” I tried to restore order, “We need to go. My parent’s think the party starts at 8;30. We have to be out the door by 8:15. We don’t have to stay for more than half an hour. Come on, let’s get dressed.”

  They stopped laughing, but little giggle fits continued.

  “Veronica, Theodora, get Carolina’s hair and make-up together. I have to get dressed. How do we get rid of the bottle?” An answer to my question popped in my head, “I’ll put it in my bag. I’ll wear the Balenciaga. It’s huge. We can throw it in a trash bin down the street. Carolina, sit up straight, time to do your make-up.”

  They spoke sweetly to her as they applied her make-up, and unrolled her hair, comforting her. Most girls, and even Carolina was no exception, would grow insecure around the three of us. I never understood our effect. We had shinier shells. It didn’t matter in any real way.

  I picked out a very short black cashmere dress from my closet as they swept lavender eye shadow over Carolina’s wide eyelids. Perfect. It would be cold coming back later that night. The dress would keep me warm. I grabbed a pair of textured tights from my drawer and my favorite black suede thigh high boots.

  Staring into the mirror after dressing confirmed my choice. I looked at least seventeen. I wouldn’t have any trouble getting into the club. I looked at Veronica and Theodora fiddling with Carolina’s hair and tried to see them through the doorman’s eyes. They looked eighteen on a regular school day. We wouldn’t have a problem.

  I looked back at the mirror and was happy with what I saw before me. I was no different than my friends, with our long blonde hair and tall, lithe bodies. I had always been comfortable with myself physically. That wasn’t the problem.

  The problem, or maybe a better choice of word would be nervousness, was because of the party Carolina had been so desperate to go to. She had been talking about it non-stop. The girls, and I did not worry about the boys, had been horrible to me when I had gone to elementary school with them, taunting me, calling me gay, because of my habit of staring.

  I didn’t like to think about it then, and I still don’t now.

  I overheard Veronica telling Carolina my least favorite story about me as I was pulling up my tights. For whatever reason I didn’t like Carolina to know how my life had changed since we had gone to school together as children. We had been the outsiders, shunned. I was the same person inside, but those around me had changed. Where I had once been scorned, I was now adored.

  I knew it had changed for her too. Nobody teased her anymore for her different dress, or sharpness of wit. She had found refuge with the drama crowd, where her quirks were appreciated.

  But still, her small circle of friends was no match for mine. However silly it was I did feel like a traitor to who we were. I was the same, only the circumstances had changed. It was all ridiculous, and the thoughts I put into contemplating it were a waste of time.

  “So he walks over to her. The poor guy had chocolates in his hand. He had done his homework, watching her, seeing the gross amount of sugar she eats...” Veronica continued.

  “It’s not that funny.” I interrupted.

  “You know she doesn’t like this story. It’s her birthday. Let it go.” Theodora said.

  “Relax darling, it’s funny.” Veronica turned back to Carolina’s reflection in the mirror as she rolled her hair up.

  “... He’s talking to her, really nervous, kind of sweaty. He was normally confident, really cute too.” She laughed, “Zelda’s sitting out our table with that weird look in her eyes Theodora and I know is just her being spaced out but he thinks it’s an all knowing gaze or something. Anyway… He finishes up his speech he’s obviously prepared and asks her out to a show.” She laughed harder, “Zelda looked at him for a moment, said “No thank you” and turned to Theodora and asked about a homework assignment, not even looking at the box of chocolate he’s still trying to hand her. The poor guy walked away with tears in his eyes.” She convulsed laughing.

  “I don’t know why you like that story.” I stared at the floor, avoiding Carolina’s eyes.

  “That’s what you get for having a birthday. You’re the center of attention. We get to tell stories.” Veronica said through a veil of laughter.

  I focused my attention on Theodora, ignoring Veronica. I loved to look at her. She had an unearthly beauty with bouncy hair and porcelain skin. She looked like a doll from the 1800s. I always stared at her but she didn’t mind and never called me names for my bad habit unlike those horrible girls who we would be seeing shortly at the party I didn’t want to go to at all. Theodora always smiled at me when I zoned in on her even if I did it through a whole class at school.

  “All right are we ready?” I asked my friends.

  “What do we tell your parents?” Theodora asked.

  “I told them we were going to a party down the street. Since it’s so close they gave us an extra hour of curfew. We don’t have to be home until 1:30. This is going to be so much fun.” I jumped up and down and clapped my hands. A very bad habit I would have to stop.

  Veronica and Theodora were far more sophisticated than I was. Veronica had grown up in England, and Theodora had traveled the world with her family, being taught by tutors. We had found each other the first day of sixth grade. All of us new students to our school.

  Looking back I see that Veronica had found Theodora and me. I think she picked us as friends because we had a similar look. She liked strong visual impacts and always encouraged our natural tendency to dress up. I so much wanted to be like her, so loud and open.

  I picked up my black shoulder bag. It was heavy with the Champagne bottle. We walked on tiptoe across the hard wood floor to the foyer by the front door, hoping to exit without being seen.

  “Zelda stop. Let me take a picture of you and your friends before you all go out for the night.” My father called out from the living room.

  “Please hurry up.” I replied to him as the echo of our voices carried across my home.

  “Natalie come downstairs to see the girls before they leave.” He called upstairs to my mother.

  I grew nervous waiting for my mother to descend the staircase, feeling the heavy weight of the bottle in my bag. She walked slowly down the steps, her long white Victorian dress flowing behind her. She hadn’t been a model in over ten years, but hadn’t shaken the habit of turning every entrance into an event.

  The Victorian look she had picked up from me over the summer. As you can imagine, I immediately switched my style upon seeing her in one of my ruffled blouses. I had gone completely the other way, dressing as a 70s rock groupie. A lot of high boots, and short dresses, all in black of course. I can laugh about it now, but I took these things very seriously at the time.

  “Hello Carolina, hello girls. Have a wonderful birthday night out.” She turned to walk back up the stairs.

  “Natalie come back. Take a picture with them.” My father, who was a very charming man, laughed lightly and said to her.

  “Oh yes… okay…” She smi
led to him, a very unusual facial expression for her.

  I felt a tiny wave of embarrassment pass over me as they briefly stood together. My father had met my mother at a nightclub in Paris when she was 19, and he was 40. He was a youthful forty when they had met, but the years had marched on. The passage of time showed on his face with crinkly eyes and smile while my mother remained ever young.

  Veronica and Theodora’s parents shared a similar age difference as did some of the other families I knew from school. This was Los Angeles after all. I logically knew it was not a big deal, but still sometimes the age difference was striking.

  My mother serenely posed with us while my father took a series of photos. Veronica stood provocatively, for a beauty she had a bit of a clown in her. Theodora laughed at her seductive stance. Carolina looked out of it and I felt uncomfortable. I had never liked having my picture taken.

  “Good night girls. Be home by 1:30. My daughter, almost all grown up.” My father looked as if he were going to cry. If I hadn’t been so aware of the contraband bottle in my purse I would have hugged him. My Mom walked back upstairs without saying goodbye.

  “My dad can be soooo sentimental.” I laughed as we walked down the quiet canyon road, “What am I going to do with this bottle?”

  “Give it to me.” Carolina reached out for it.

  “Who’s going to be at the party?” Veronica asked.

  “I don’t really know that group.” A sick feeling fell over me at the thought of seeing them again, “Serge will be there. I think that’s it for people we know.”

  “He’s so hot, a secret Casanova.” I hated when Veronica spoke about Serge. He was not her type. The high-profile boys that flocked around her were her type. Her last boyfriend had been the star of a kid’s TV show. That was her type.

  “Gross.” Carolina said as she threw the bottle hard towards a house I remembered was Liza’s as it crashed into the street. She had been one of our chief tormentors as children.

  I laughed as we ran down the road away from Carolina’s seemingly random and uncharacteristic act of violence. Theodora and Veronica did not know about our tormented early years, and I had no plans to ever talk to them or anyone else about it.

  “Hey Caro, it’s okay I’ll stay away from your brother.” Veronica laughed as our pace slowed down.

  “Oh. No. I didn’t mean it that way… Serge would love you. Date away.”

  “I think Serge would be better with Theodora. Why does anybody have to be with anyone? Let’s just have fun.” I stated a little more loudly and seriously than intended.

  “It’s more fun that way Zelda. We’ll find you someone down at the club.” Theodora took my hand in hers, squeezing it.

  “Yeah Zelda. They’re going to have to change your name to Virgin Princess if you don’t get it together.” Veronica said.

  I could talk about the boys they liked with them but hated when the spotlight came my way. I didn’t have any interest. It was all so foreign to me. Theodora and Carolina were fine with that, but Veronica had taken on my reluctance as a cause.

  “I met someone on the beach a few weeks ago. John. He’s a senior at Samo. He’s really cute.”

  We chatted about him for a while. Thank you Carolina.

  We stood in front of Serge’s friend’s ridiculously large house that was once a beautiful Spanish home like mine. I never understood why they had knocked it down to build such a characterless home, more mansion than home technically. People liked big for a reason I couldn’t understand. I added it to my list of imponderables.

  “Are you sure you want to go to the party? We could just walk down to the diner and wait for the club to open there instead.” I asked Carolina

  “Come on Zelda it will be fun.” Theodora said with another squeeze of my hand.

  If she wanted to go inside, I would do it.

  The entryway to the house was peaceful, planted with brightly colored fragrant flowers, the original brick fountain still in place. That’s where any trace of the original structure ended. From my vantage point the house looked as garish on the inside as it appeared from the street. Everything was new, new, new.

  A group of girls sat around the edge of the fountain staring and whispering about us as we walked towards the large open double-doors of the home. I was used to being the center of attention, of girls being in awe of my friends and me. But these girls were not admirers. They were mean, judging us.

  I had expected to be uncomfortable, but I wasn’t. I felt protected by the crush of my friends around me. Theodora was still holding my hand, Veronica and Carolina laughed about something I couldn’t hear. I joined in their merriment, confidence filling me, a smile uncontrollable smile spread across my face.

  I almost felt sorry for the girls, so trapped by conformity. All of them wore tight jeans with those awful sheepskin boots. Some of them even wore sweatshirts. The sweatshirts were decorated or off-the-shoulder. So I suppose in their eyes, party attire, but so dull. Those weren’t particularly kind thoughts I was having, but I was 15 at the time, and it did work.

  “Let’s find the bar. We need more Champagne, or worse case scenario... beer.” Veronica said as we crossed the foyer into the immense opening of the living room that was packed with kids. I looked around for Serge but couldn’t spot him in the crowd.

  “Yes we need drinks.” Theodora agreed.

  “Let’s go into the kitchen. I’m craving sweets. I’m sure they’ll have something there or maybe by the pool.” I replied.

  We entered the sparkling white kitchen that rivaled the living room in size. I laughed to myself about what my father would say about such a home. Wonderful as he was in so many ways, he was a bit of a snob, and in retrospect seemed to be training me to follow in his footsteps.

  More importantly I was right about the sweets, chocolate chip cookies, beautifully decorated cupcakes covered the brand new granite countertop. I liked the over-the-top modern kitchen. I liked the hospitality of what was otherwise was a boring, almost cold home. Maybe the party wouldn’t be so bad, I thought to myself.

  Which treat did I want? The cookies that looked to be swirl of chocolate, or the heavenly pink cupcakes? They even had a jug of milk. How thoughtful. I poured myself a glass.

  Chapter Three

  Party time. Everything was set up. The kitchen counter was covered in five different flavors of heavily decorated cupcakes. I had Valencia, our housekeeper, make a batch of chocolate chip cookies. I didn’t know if Zelda drank but I took a bottle of Kahlua from the bar and put it in the kitchen. My girl liked sugar, she would have sugar.

  The DJ and security guard were running late. My parents insisted on that. They didn’t want the liability with all the kids in the house. Fine with me if it meant they wouldn’t be home.

  I had invited Isabella along with my crew of friends. She was outside by the pool doing her thing. I hadn’t told her the reason for my party. She would figure it out soon enough. I would never live this down if it didn’t work out. Extra motivation. I waited, walking around the house, checking on everybody. Joni had brought Liza. She kept trying to get my attention. I wouldn’t let her become a problem.

  Around 9:00 I saw a haze of blond hair and black dresses walk across the room and into the kitchen. She was here. This was it. Game time. I shook off my tension and followed the group into the kitchen. There she was, wearing a wooly mini dress with tights and the boots she had been wearing that day a couple weeks ago in front of my house. You can imagine how my body reacted.

  “Milk and cookies? Hi Zelda.” I stood next to her. She smelled musky and sweet.

  “Thank you,” She said to me, finally after all these years. She hadn’t looked my way, but she had spoken to me.

  I understood her single-minded vision. I didn’t see anything other than her. She poured her cup to the top with milk. Here was my chance to interact. I took the cup from her hands, dumped some of it out into the sink and poured the Kahlua into the glass.

  She took a few sips
of the drink and then gulped it down, asking for another. Getting her drunk was not part of my plan. I didn’t know it then, but this was her first time drinking. If I could go back in time I would have put a stop to it right there.

  “Slow down beauty.” She looked up at my dated line but not really at me, more past me. It was a start.

  Her friends wanted more to drink too, again not part of my plan. I took Zelda’s hand and led them out of the kitchen to distract them from their alcohol hunt. Zelda stared at our hands. Did people not touch her? She giggled, another surprise. I had built her up into an ice queen in my mind. She was a girl who giggled. I relaxed.

  Her girlfriends started laughing, at what I don’t know. Veronica spotted Serge across my living room and danced her way over to him. Carolina and Theodora asked where the bathroom was, I pointed out the way for them happy to be alone with Zelda.

  I looked at her hands and held them out, so delicate, so white. “You have such pretty long fingers” Not too suave but she looked up, and into my eyes. She saw me. She looked a little confused.

  I asked her if she wanted to see the bowling alley in my garage, and led her down the hallway, hand in mine before she could answer. I practically prayed no one else at the party had wandered in for a game. Luck was with me. We were alone.

  I closed the door tightly wishing I could lock it, but I was sure that would frighten her, so I didn’t do that. I couldn’t believe I was alone with Zelda. I ran my hands along her arms up to her lips. I was bold.

  “You’re so different than I imagined. You’re so...” I couldn’t say another word. I lifted her hair away from her face and kissed her pulling her close to me, running my hands up her back not believing that she was there with me. But she was real, and she responded. Things were going too fast. Not part of my plan. I pulled away from her.

  “We should go back inside the house.” I took her hand in mine to lead her back out to the party.