Homecoming Masquerade, The (14 page)

This of course begged the
question: what was the big secret? Who was this guy and how come Annika was
hiding him from her friends? What did she mean when she said, “I’m counting the
days until we can be together again?”

Adding even more mystery was the
location of this Hong Chung fellow. When Mr. Chung sent a return email an hour
later, Jill was able to trace it to the source IP address.

“Brazil,” Jill whispered.

Annika had secret boyfriend in
Brazil? A secret boyfriend with a Chinese name, or a fake Chinese name?

Jill did an Internet search on
all the names in Annika’s email, and learned that Zhang Li Gong and Hong Chung
were the main characters in a Chinese film from the seventies named
Crimson
Sunrise
. What little there was about the film online was posted
anonymously. Apparently, the Chinese government had banned the film immediately
after it was released and executed the moviemakers. While the immortals in
America had never declared the movie unacceptable viewing, people on the
Internet treated the film as taboo, only speaking about it on anonymous message
boards in discussions that were peppered with warnings not to take the movie
too seriously or speak openly about it.

It was an exciting development.
Secrets were weaknesses that could be exploited. The key for Jill was to figure
out what this secret was all about. She spent the rest of the summer trying. In
the mornings she was one of Annika’s “peeps,” joining her and the rest of the
crew for lunch dates, shopping excursions, visits to the museum, visits to
sporting events, and whatever else Annika felt like doing. In the evenings,
Jill spied on Annika through the computer.

The emails between Zhang Li Gong
and Hong Chung were a daily occurrence. Annika’s emails were a recap of the
life Jill was living, told from Annika’s point of view with all the names
changed into Chinese. Hong Chung’s return emails were like a travelogue,
describing a family (also with Chinese names) touring the countryside, learning
the ways of the locals, deep sea fishing off the coast, and waiting eagerly for
Zhang Li’s eventual arrival. There was nothing on the surface that suggested
subversive activity, but it was curious just how secretive they were being. Not
only were they using anonymous web mail accounts and encoding the names of
their friends, they were also deleting the emails immediately after reading
them. Jill went through Annika’s sent items, saved items, deleted items – all
were empty, even of emails she had read only a day before. All Jill could learn
from the history of the web mail account was that it was created on November
15th the year before. There was only one email address in the contacts folder,
and one email address in the memory cache.

Clearly, they were being
careful. They were acting like the Network sympathizers Jill had met in so many
chat rooms. But no one from the Network knew a thing about this. The Network’s
intelligence officers were just as puzzled by this development as Jill.

“Never once have we seen a shred
of evidence that Annika Fleming has an interest in overthrowing the immortals,”
said Alvin Green, who, until Jill’s arrival, had been the Network’s best
computer hacker. “Everything we’ve ever seen from the Flemings suggests a
family who is in deep with the powers that be. I mean, her father is the
governor of Oklahoma. These are people who play by the rules.”

“Have they ever been to Brazil?”
Jill asked.

“Perhaps that’s something you
should find out,” said Alvin.

The next day Jill initiated a
conversation at lunch about the places they’d been. After suffering through
Jenny and Mattie announce how many tropical paradises they’d been to since high
school began, Jill turned to Annika and asked her directly.

“What about you? Where have you
been?” Jill asked.

Paris, London, Rome, most of
Germany, the Alps in Switzerland and in Italy (“skiing was best on the Swiss
side”), London, Vienna, Greece—but only as a cruise stop—Turkey, Morocco,
Dubai, Sydney, Hong Kong, Tokyo, “and all the beaches we’ve hit on breaks,” was
Annika’s answer.

“Is there any place you haven’t
been but want to go?” Jill asked.

“Rio de Janeiro,” said Annika.

“Ooohhh....let’s go there,” said
Mattie. “School doesn’t start for another month.”

“No way,” Annika said. “When I
go to Rio it’s going to be special. It will be more than just another thing to
do on summer vacation.”

I’m sure it will be
, Jill
thought.

In August, Jill started fishing
for opinions from the group about Coronation, about Kim Renwick. She got
nothing but fluff. Annika was unwilling to speak ill of Kim, so no one else was
either. Even when Jill spoke openly about her disdain for the Renwicks, the
best she could get from the others were gentle nods of agreement before they
changed the subject.

And that was only when Annika
wasn’t around. When Annika was present, she wouldn’t tolerate any mention of
Coronation or the Renwicks at all.

“It’s such a boring topic,”
Annika said. “Any time wasted on Coronation is time we could have spent having
fun. We all know who we have to support in the contest. I, for one, am focusing
on looking fantastic at Homecoming and getting on with my life.”

Such was Annika’s stance out in
the open, but in her secret emails to Hong, she sang a different tune.

Liu really hates the
Chairman, and wants the rest of us to hate her too. She’s practically on a
campaign. I had to shut her down on the whole topic today, even though I admire
her spunk. Here she is, one of the richest girls in school, and she’s trying to
rally all of us to support someone other than the Chairman. I wish I could help
her. The problem is, there is no one else to support. As we expected, the
Chairman is running away with a victory this year.

Liu, of course, was Jill, as she
had been in the emails all summer. Jill assumed ‘The Chairman’ was Kim Renwick.
If that was the case, then Annika might change her tune when Nicky Bloom showed
up. Despite her insistence that she had no interest in the politics of
Coronation, Annika secretly wished to support someone other than Kim, other
than The Chairman.

On the last Friday night before
school started, Annika called Jill, Mattie, Jenny, and Norah to her house for a
“Girls Night Out” party. Annika’s parents were in New York, and she insisted
that the girls spend the night together in an old fashioned slumber party,
“Just like when we were kids.”

Just like when we were kids
,
if kids got drunk out of their minds. By midnight, Jenny was puking, Mattie was
asleep, and Norah was ready “to find some guys and get this party started.”
Annika asked her driver to take Norah to a dance club. While Annika walked
Norah out the front door, Jill, under the guise of checking on Jenny, went
exploring in Annika’s bedroom.

She found a copy of
Crimson
Sunrise
in an unmarked black box on the bookcase. Betting that Annika was
already so sloshed that she wouldn’t remember anything that happened in the
next few hours, Jill took the movie downstairs and popped it in. The title
screen was rolling on the TV when Annika came back inside.

“What are you doing?” Annika
asked.

“I should be asking you the same
thing,” said Jill. “This movie is banned, you know.”

“It’s not banned, people just
think it is, and who the hell cares? You were snooping in my stuff. What the
fuck?”

“Relax, Annika. Your secrets are
safe with me.”

Secrets
. Plural.
Hopefully Annika wasn’t too drunk to catch the reference.

“Besides,” Jill continued, “I’ve
always wanted to see this. Come watch it with me. I need you to explain the
symbolism.”

Annika stood in place for a
moment, as if trying to sort out in her mind what was going on. Jill had been
around enough drunkards, her dad being one of them, to know about where Annika
was in the process. Her eyes were thoroughly glazed. Her cheeks were bright
red. She couldn’t walk straight but her speech wasn’t slurring yet. One more
drink and Annika would be totally useless. Jill would have to keep her away
from the booze until the movie was over.

“Okay, you’re on,” said Annika,
a smile taking over her face. She jumped over the back of the couch, landing
right next to Jill and giggling at how clever she was. On the TV, the screen
went from black to bright orange. A flute played a somber melody. Time lapse
photography showed a sunrise over the ocean.

“This movie was an open
declaration of artistic war against the ruling regime in China,” Annika said.
“By the time it was released, Fu Xi and his clan had already taken over the
Chinese government. The sunrise represents the triumph of humanity over the
vampires.”

“Vampires,” Jill said. “I love
it when people say that word.”

“I do too,” said Annika. “I
think everybody does it, in secret. Pass that beer over here, Sweetie, will
you?”

“Have some water instead,” Jill
said, grabbing a bottle off the end table and giving it to Annika.

Annika held the bottle up to one
eye and pointed it at Jill like a telescope.

“I see you,” she said in a
sing-song voice, before breaking into a giggling fit.

The movie was short, just over
an hour long, and its plot was simple. It was
Romeo and Juliet
with a
Chinese setting: two teenage lovers named Zhang Li Gong and Hong Chung were
kept apart by the warring parties of the ruling regime and ultimately died for
their love. An evil villain known simply as “The Chairman” orchestrated the
murder of Zhang Li. Upon learning that his lover was killed, Hong looked out at
the sun rising across the ocean and stabbed himself in the gut. The movie ended
with Hong falling into the sea and the camera panning up to show the sunrise.

It was a dark, brooding movie.
The yellow English subtitles running across the bottom were frequently the
brightest things on the screen. Even though she found it all a bit boring, Jill
could see the appeal of the movie to someone like Annika, someone who harbored
feelings of rebellion but repressed them. To Annika, watching this movie, and
explaining all the symbolism as it went, had to be a liberating feeling, even
if she was drunk.

The minor characters in the film
matched the fake names in Annika’s secret emails. Duan and Xu were friends of
the main characters, and couldn’t decide if they wanted to be a couple or not,
just like Vince and Mattie. Ming was the comic relief character, a strange girl
who brought happiness to the screen until the Chairman killed her.

And Liu, Jill’s namesake in
Annika’s emails, was a princess who turned on her father and tried to help
Zhang Li and Hong. Although Liu’s plan to smuggle Zhang Li out of China failed,
she was a heroic character, who died at her own father’s hand after her
treachery was revealed.

Jill found it quite touching
that Annika viewed her this way.

“Do you think anything is ever
going to change?” Jill asked.

“You mean, will the world stop
being so evil? No, I don’t think so,” said Annika.

“You’re a happy person,” said
Jill. “How can you be so pleasant all the time when you know the world is like
this?”

Jill was openly inviting Annika
to engage in sedition with that last question. Her words asked Annika how she
could be so happy, but they both knew the question really was, ‘How can you
stand aside and do nothing when you know the truth of the world?’ The question
was Jill seeking an opening to find out if Annika might be Network material.

Her reaction was disappointing.

“We shouldn’t have watched
this,” Annika said, racing to the TV and turning it off. “I should throw this
movie away. I don’t really believe in any of this stuff. I just like being bad
sometimes, that’s all. It’s getting late. Maybe we should go to sleep. You
don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.”

“Annika, I enjoyed watching this
movie with you,” said Jill. “And I promise I’ll never breathe a word about it
to anyone.”

“I know you won’t, Sweetie. I
trust you. I...”

Annika was crying now. Jill
sighed. Whatever she was hoping to accomplish with this little movie date
wasn’t going to happen.

“Here,” Jill said, grabbing the
beer bottle she’d been withholding from Annika during the movie. “Have a drink.
Everything’s going to be okay.”

Annika took a swig from the
bottle, then another, then a third. As she reached for the table to set down
the bottle, she fell off the couch.

“W’oh, are you okay?” Jill said.

Annika started laughing. She
rolled onto her back and laughed even louder.

“Look at me!” she gasped.
“R..O..F...how’s it go?”

“ROTFL,” Jill said.

“Yes! That’s me right now!”

Annika rolled back and forth on
the floor, laughing louder and louder as she went. Somewhere upstairs, a toilet
flushed. Jenny must have had to get out of bed for puking round 2. Watching
Annika roll on the floor, Jill wondered if she’d be next.

Jill stayed at Annika’s house
until Saturday evening, tending to Jenny and Annika both. Annika started puking
at three in the morning, but was done by four. Jenny wasn’t finished puking
until after dawn. All three girls slept until mid-afternoon. When they awoke,
Jenny was still a moaning mess, but Annika was happy as a lark. Jill hung
around to cook lunch and help Annika clean up. There were many opportunities
that afternoon for Annika to bring up
Crimson Sunrise
and what happened
the night before. She never did. Either she didn’t remember, or she intended to
forget.

Three weeks had passed since
girl’s night out. Now, Annika was standing near the bar in Renata Sullivan’s
mansion, her eyes getting glazed underneath her bejeweled mask, her cheeks
turning rosy. Annika’s story about Uncle Charlie had come to a close. This was
the moment Jill had been waiting for. Everything was in place. Nicky Bloom had
arrived and made her presence known. Jill had given the cover story about the
“secret consortium” behind Nicky’s campaign. Kim Renwick had tried to ruin
Nicky’s night with a spilled glass of wine and failed in spectacular fashion.
The ballroom was buzzing. In barely an hour, Nicky had demolished the hierarchy
and order of the senior class. Annika was on her third or fourth glass of wine.
If ever there was a time to close the deal, it was now.