Genesis Girl (15 page)

Barbelo Nemo has a brilliant understanding of human nature, as well as unlimited empathy.
Human beings want two things
, he wrote.
Relationships, and a feeling of importance. Vestals deserve both.

That’s why the Vestal banquets began.

In the early years, most corporations only owned one Vestal. It took years for companies to establish complete Vestal families, one Harvest at a time.

Vestals can’t date non-Vestals; that would be ridiculous. How could you trust somebody? What if they took your picture and sold it to a Virus? An evil ex-boyfriend could ruin you forever.
The only person a Vestal can trust is another Vestal.

So every three months Barbelo would call his followers home to Tabula Rasa. Even now, decades after Barbelo retreated, the Vestal banquets continue four times a year.

All Vestals are invited, but whether you can come or not depends on your purchaser. Most companies readily agree.

Vestals dating is good for business because of synchronistic advertising.

Take Beau and Fatima for example. Every time Beau’s company releases a photo of Beau driving Fatima around in a gigantic truck, Fatima is always pictured looking gorgeous. So her fashion house ends up getting publicity too. They then return the favor by running an ad showing Fatima strutting down the catwalk in a white version of their latest design with Beau sitting in the audience, so stunned by her beauty that he “accidentally” drops his truck keys, company logo and all.

America loves it. It doesn’t matter if the Vestal relationships are real, arranged, or fake; the public doesn’t care. All they want is gossip. Purchasers control the whole story, and they always leave the public begging for more.

It all comes back to supply and demand. Since so little of a Vestal’s life is made public, there is high demand to exploit it.

I’ve never been to a Vestal banquet because only harvested Vestals are invited. But Fatima heard they’re wild.
“The perfect place for hookups,”
she said.
“Secluded corners, dim light, and music so loud nobody knows what’s really going on.”

In the middle of all that, my soul mate is waiting. Tonight I meet the boy who sells soap. My perfect match!

The only problem is Cal. Things are weird between us. Cal says he wants to be my father. And not in a creepy way like Ms. Lydia warned me about, but in a real way. Like I’ve read about in books.

Cal wants me to choose to be his daughter. He’s not saying it, but I can see him thinking it every time I look at him.
Choose to be free, Blanca. Choose to make your own decisions.

And I can’t.

That doesn’t mean I’m not proud of Cal. He’s accomplished a lot, with my help.
I want you to bring Seth back into my life.
That’s what Cal told me that first night at the manor.
One way or another.

I would do anything for Cal too. That’s how I got him invited to the Vestal banquet. I wrote to Ms. Lydia and explained that Cal directed me to secure him an invitation, and that I always deliver.

Ms. Lydia wrote back the next day. “Good girl,” she said. “I’ll bring you the invitations in person.”

And somehow, when she did, Cal turned that into Ms. Lydia coming with us. In our car.

The backseat of the limo is roasting hot, even though the moon roof is open. Cal raps on the divider and asks Alan to turn the air system up to cool things off. My white satin pants are getting sticky. Ms. Lydia is probably overheated too, but she doesn’t show it. She takes a deep breath, as if breathing is her own personal cooling system. Then she half-smiles again, and her heart-shaped face returns to a perfect mask of grace.

“Sorry, ladies.” Cal tugs at his collar. “It’s a great day for making solar power but a bad day for wearing a tux.”

“I don’t mind the heat,” says Ms. Lydia, gracious as always. “Besides, I can already feel the air-conditioning working on overdrive.” She points down to her ankle, and we can see the white silk of her dress flutter upward from the vent, exposing part of her leg.

“Nice view,” says Cal.

Ms. Lydia looks at him sharply. But then her expression changes and becomes thoughtful. A few seconds too late, she laughs. It’s a soft, silver laugh that sounds like she was saving it for a special occasion. It’s a genuine laugh. I can tell. And I realize I’ve never heard Ms. Lydia laugh for real before. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her authentic smile either, like the one she’s wearing now.

“I’m so glad you said yes,” Cal says to Ms. Lydia. “I didn’t feel right about sending Blanca off to meet a young man that I had never met myself.”

“Of course, Calum,” says Ms. Lydia. “That’s only prudent.”

“And now,” Cal continues, “I get the pleasure of not only escorting one but two beautiful ladies out tonight.” His sun-lined face gazes at Ms. Lydia in awe.

If it weren’t so totally ridiculous, I’d wonder if Cal was flirting with her.

Ms. Lydia flushes. “Usually I go to these things solo.”

“Not tonight.” Cal picks up her hand and kisses it.

Ms. Lydia blushes a deeper shade of red and pulls her hand away. Her face is prettier than ever. I wonder why I thought she was over forty.

“What do
you
think, Blanca?” Cal pats my knee. “Are you excited to meet Soap-boy?” He uses that obnoxious nickname the Virus coined.

“His name is Trevor.” Ms. Lydia giggles. “And Blanca’s going to adore him.”

Trevor? I remember Trevor! Ms. Lydia has never said his name before. But I know all about Trevor. He’s a few years older than me and absolutely magnificent. Blond hair, blue eyes, and a smile that makes you melt. Back at Tabula Rasa he never gave me the time of day, probably because I was younger than him, but things will be different now.

“Okay, Trevor,” Cal says. “Not Soap-boy. I’ll try to keep that straight.”

“Please do,” says Ms. Lydia.

“But you remember, Blanca,” Cal says, suddenly serious. “You get to choose, okay? You don’t have to be with Trevor if you don’t want to.”

“Yes, Cal. Of course, Cal,” I say, slipping up again. He hates it when I agree with him like that. But Cal doesn’t correct me this time. He picks up my hand in his and holds on to it tight.

My alma mater is a fortress of secrecy and protection. Alan drives the limo down the ramp to the Tabula Rasa underground lot, and the whole car goes dark. Security won’t let Alan past the gate, but when they see Ms. Lydia, they allow her, Cal, and me to walk into the compound on foot.

As soon as I step on Tabula Rasa ground, my eyes go wet. I’m flooded with feeling. It’s been so hard to be special.

Everything I do. Everything I say. Out there in the real world I have to watch myself. I have been living my life through a filter. What will Cal think? What will the Virus think? It’s exhausting.

Being a Vestal is something I’m proud of every second of my life. I don’t want to hide who I am, but it’s hard. I’m elite, but I don’t want to appear elitist.

Now I’m home with my friends, and for one sweet evening, I can be unguarded.

Ms. Lydia takes us up the faculty elevator, the one you need a key to operate. I’ve only ridden in it once before, that time Ms. Lydia brought me to speak with Headmaster Russell about my stolen picture.

“I’m surprised you have elevators,” Cal remarks. “I thought we’d be walking up stairs.”

“We’re not Amish!” says Ms. Lydia with a teasing smile.

“I hope not.” Cal coughs. Here at Tabula Rasa, his tanned skin seems exotic. “Do purchasers usually come to these functions?”

“Not typically,” Ms. Lydia replies. “But it’s happened before.”

I’m surprised at her answer. As far as I know, the only people allowed into Tabula Rasa are Vestals.

“What about your purchaser?” Cal asks her. “Does he ever come?”

The elevator slows to a halt, and the doors hiss open. Cal’s timing is awful, and his question is even worse. Asking a Vestal private information is the biggest faux pas there is. But of course Cal wouldn’t know that; he’s not a Vestal.

Ms. Lydia’s flirty smile is gone. She stands stiff and statue-like. When the elevator doors start to slide back shut, she lets them. It’s only when we’re closed off again that she answers.

“He used to come,” she says simply. “But my contract is fulfilled. I come and go as I please.”

There’s nothing but silence for a minute, and nobody says anything.

Then Cal punches the button to open the elevator doors. “Good to know.” He holds out both of his hands, one for each of us. That’s how we walk into the banquet: all three of us together and connected.

I feel like I’m in a fishbowl of white. Every last Vestal at the banquet stares at us as we enter the room. But I don’t know who’s garnering the most attention: me, the new Geisha; Cal, the only outsider; or Ms. Lydia.

Headmaster Russell rushes over, and I start to sweat. Ms. Corina from charm and deportment is right by his side, glaring.

But I remember something important: Ms. Lydia is on my side. That’s all that matters.

“Russell,” Ms. Lydia says. “How nice to see you. You remember Mr. Calum McNeal.”

“Yes, Ms. Lydia,” Headmaster Russell says. “Mr. McNeal, how … unexpected.”

Ms. Corina stands there like the Princess of Placid.

There will be words. I know it. “Blanca,” says Ms. Lydia coolly, “I see your friends over there. Why don’t you join them?”

When I turn and see Fatima, I feel my insides go numb. Will she want to see me? But Fatima runs toward me so fast that I almost don’t have time to open my arms. We hug and jump up and down at the same time.

Ms. Lydia smiles at our reunion and leads the other adults away.

“Whoa there,” says Beau, walking over. “Stop being a Blanca hog.”

Fatima smiles and pulls away, leaving Beau room to pick me up and swing me around in an enormous bear hug. Then it’s Ethan’s turn.

“We haven’t seen you in
forever
,” says Fatima.

“We weren’t sure if you’d be able to come,” Ethan adds.

Fatima gives me another hug. “It’s so good to see you. We’ve been worried.”

“Incredibly worried.” Ethan adjusts the button on his white blazer. “Nobody knows what’s going on with you.”

“You’re all anybody talks about at the photo shoots,” says Beau. “Nobody can believe you went Geisha.”

I glance over to where Cal and Ms. Lydia are circling on the other side of the room. She holds his arm with both hands now, and they tilt their heads inward and laugh. Headmaster Russell and Charming Corina are gone.

“Is that your purchaser?” asks Fatima.

“Yes.” I nod. “That’s Cal.”

“And he’s with Ms. Lydia.” Fatima raises her eyebrows. “Oh.”

“Yes. I mean, no,” I say quickly. “It’s not like that.”

Fatima, Beau, and Ethan stare at me, and I know that curiosity about my situation is killing them. But none of them ask any questions. None of them pry into my personal business.

“Cal wants me to be his daughter.”

“Wow!” says Beau. The way he says it makes me wonder if anyone believes me. Cal paying thirty-two million dollars for a daughter is a hard story to sell.