Inside Girl (10 page)

“So I said, ‘Arno, darling, let's go back to the Riviera.' And he of course said, ‘But it's like the Riviera—of Mexico.' I mean, tell me honestly, Flan. You're a good judge of character. Can I rely on this boy for anything at all?”

“This is unbelievable—I've been waiting by the phone all afternoon. Am I going to have to live out of
a suitcase for the rest of my life? Don't these people know who I am?”

“Of course he'd already bought the tickets, but that's no excuse. There's no excuse for refusing to change your plans.”

“It'd be cool to set up house with Mickey—you know, not in the June Cleaver pre-feminist way, but like, just to spend time with him. Get away from all the drama with our parents, you know? Do you think it'd be okay if he stayed over a couple of days, just to test it out?”

“If I didn't have you, Flan, I'd be lost—cast out onto the street. The little match girl. Did you know I played her once, in a Discover commercial?”

It went on like that for about an hour. In between their long complaints about everything, the girls fought over how to dress me up. Philippa wanted me to wear a pair of my sister's old knee-high Doc Martens and a kickboxing T-shirt embellished with rhinestones that I'd picked up from a shop in Soho mostly as a joke. Sara-Beth wanted to glam me up in this powder-blue tank dress—she even offered to loan me some of the borrowed jewelry she'd worn to the Oscars and then never returned—and Liesel thought I should go for a classy look in this white Monique Lhuillier dress of hers that made me look like I
was trying to be a taller, chestier version of Audrey Hepburn.

All of this seemed like a terrible idea to me, and in the end I wound up throwing on this halter-neck dress I'd been wearing all summer. It was pink with little white hearts printed all over it in patterns, and it was made of a T-shirty material, so I looked nice but not psychotically overdressed.

When I came out of the bedroom with it on, though, all three of my houseguests looked at me like I'd just killed somebody.

“You're totally caving to this outdated notion of femininity,” said Philippa.

“Your shoes don't match your purse,” said Liesel.

“Oh, Flan,” said Sara-Beth. “You look so … unassuming.”

“Okay,” I said. “I guess I better get going.”

The girls still stood there, though, right in the middle of the hallway. Like a wall.

“'Scuse me,” I said, shouldering past them.

“Have a nice time,” Philippa called after me as I started down the stairs.

“Thanks.” She sounded so sad that I couldn't help feeling bad about leaving them like this. I turned around. “I'm sorry I didn't tell you about the party sooner. Maybe next time I can get you all invited too.”

“Come on, Flan, we know you're totally ashamed of us.” Philippa smiled darkly. “Seriously, don't worry about it. Have a good time.”

I shifted my overnight bag onto my shoulder. “What are you guys going to do while I'm gone?”

“Oh, you know. Old boring spinsters, home alone on a Friday night,” Liesel said, gesturing vaguely. “We'll find some way to entertain ourselves.”

“Uh-huh,” I said as I let myself out of the house and locked the door behind me. But as I walked to the corner to hail a cab, I couldn't help but wonder what exactly would go down while I was away. I knew Philippa, SBB, and Liesel well enough by now to know that they weren't going to spend the evening playing Monopoly and eating popcorn. I just hoped the house would still be in one piece by the time I got back.

By the time I made it over to Meredith's house, I was starting to feel excited about the party again. There's something so great and exciting about taking a cab by yourself and watching all the streets go by, knowing you can get out anytime or keep going for as long as you want, knowing that no one's going to stop you or tell you what to do. I felt bad at first about leaving Liesel, Philippa, and SBB alone while I went out on the town, but as I rode along, it occurred to me that I really shouldn't feel too guilty. After all, what Philippa had said touched on the truth: if they came out with me, it would totally blow their cover. Besides, it wasn't like SBB invited me along on her photo shoots. Everyone keeps parts of their lives separate sometimes. It didn't make me a phony or a bad friend—at least, that was what I wanted to believe.

Anyway, the point is, when I got out of the cab and
lugged my suitcase up to Meredith's door, my heart was feeling lighter and I was even starting to smile a little bit. Maybe this night wouldn't be such a disaster after all. The doorman let me in and even tipped his cap as I walked by. I love it when they do that.

Meredith lived in an older building, with a small, clanking elevator that seemed to take forever to get from the ground to the second floor, where her apartment was. When the elevator doors opened, I took a deep breath and stepped into the hallway. Here it was: the start of my first big night out as a normal high schooler. Tucking my hair behind my ears, I walked down the hall to apartment 2B and knocked.

Meredith and Judith were both already there, and they came to the door together.

“Oh my God, you look so pretty,” said Meredith, stepping aside so I could come in. “Let me take your bag.”

“Oh, no, that's okay,” I said awkwardly as she took it out of my hands and went down the hallway. Judith rolled her eyes.

“Meredith's the perfect hostess,” she said. “Trust me, there's no stopping her.”

Even if Judith was being sarcastic, it really was almost true. Meredith's apartment was sort of tiny, but in an adorable, cozy kind of way, and you could
tell she'd set up for us coming over. In the living room, which had orange walls so it felt sunshiny even though it was dark outside, she had a bunch of snacks—homemade cookies and kettle-cooked chips and hummus and pita bread—all laid out on the coffee table, and in the corner of the room an ice cream maker was buzzing as it churned. I suddenly realized I was starving—I hadn't eaten anything since the yogurt I'd had for lunch in the cafeteria that day.

“Meredith, this is so nice,” I called down the hall to her. “You didn't have to go to so much trouble.”

“Oh, it's no trouble. We worked on it together,” said a kindly old lady, coming out of what I guessed was the kitchen with a dish towel. She had short gray hair and glasses, and she was wearing this really cool turquoise dress with oversize yellow buttons that I could tell she'd made herself. “I'm Meredith's grandma. You can call me Amelia.”

“It's nice to meet you,” I said, shaking her hand. The way her eyes crinkled up when she smiled reminded me of Mrs. Santa Claus.

“Meredith's mother is doing inventory over at the shop, but I suppose you'll meet her later when you come by to pick up your bags.”

“I live just down the block,” Judith explained, making herself comfortable on the couch, which was
this vintage-looking red velvet thing, “so I figured you and Meredith could just leave your sleeping bags and stuff here till after the party. Then we can come back here and pick them up.”

“It's so great that you live right by each other,” I said, feeling jealous. How cool would it be to hang out here all the time? The whole place smelled like cookies.

I sat on the couch with Judith. After a few minutes Meredith came out and we all sat around, scarfing down hummus and talking about our classes together at school. It was so great to just be hanging out with people who weren't all having nervous breakdowns and totally depending on me to set things right. Meredith did a great imitation of her English teacher, and Judith and I both cracked up. Then I told them about my history teacher, who was sort of obsessed with the Kennedy assassination, and they thought it was pretty funny too. Then the conversation turned to boys.

“That was almost as funny as Meredith's story,” Judith said when she stopped laughing. She ate a chip. “You should tell that one to Bennett.”

“Well, he's a sophomore. He probably knows Mr. Martin already.”

“God, Flan, Bennett's so cute.” Meredith went over to the ice cream maker and started spooning out
mugfuls for each of us. I saw it was mint chocolate chip—my favorite. “It's awesome he likes you so much.”

“Yeah, well, maybe he doesn't like me
that
much.”

“No way! You know, I bet at the party tonight he won't talk to any other girls,” said Meredith.

“What would you do if he asked you to be his girlfriend?” asked Judith.

I felt embarrassed for some reason, and I took a long minute to swallow my first bite of ice cream. “I doubt that'll happen. I mean, he practically just met me.”

“I think it just seems like it won't happen because it hasn't yet.” Meredith plopped back down on the couch. “But I bet we'll all have boyfriends someday.”

“I went out with a guy once,” said Judith. “Well, I mean, not literally went out. He's the son of these friends of my parents and he goes to boarding school in New Hampshire. But we were pen pals for a while. So, I mean, it's not totally hopeless.”

“I remember that guy.” Meredith grinned. “He sent you that bracelet in the mail, with the little charm of a pelican on it.”

I thought about Jonathan, my ex, and decided to spill the beans. That was one secret I didn't have to keep anyway. “I kind of went out with this guy once, back in eighth grade.”

“Really?” asked Judith and Meredith at the same time.

This was it: I had to tell them all about him—how we met, how we used to hang out in my room during Patch's crazy parties, how he used to take me out to clubs and compliment my shoes. Otherwise, I would be being dishonest for real, and for no other reason than being afraid of what they might think. But with them both looking at me so eagerly like that, I just couldn't do it. So I looked down at my spoon instead.

“He was okay, but we never got to spend that much time together. He was more into hanging out with his friends.”

“What was it like, though?” Judith pressed, leaning her elbows on the coffee table. “Did you guys hold hands and stuff? Or did you mostly just talk on the phone?”

“Did you ever dance with him?” asked Meredith, crunching on a carrot stick.

I tried to think of a good story. “Well, this one time, at Lotus—”

“Wait, Lotus?” Judith sat back and scrutinized me. “You mean, that club in the Village? The one that's, like, impossible to get into?”

I shrugged. “It's not impossible. He was …” I wanted to explain about the Insiders, the way they
have a free pass to pretty much anyplace in the city, but it all just seemed too complicated all of a sudden, and I knew in my heart Meredith and Judith just wouldn't understand. “You know, he was older.”

They both stared at me, sort of awed and freaked out at the same time, like I'd just confessed to being Catwoman or something.

“Wow,” said Meredith.

After an awkward silence, we decided that even if we were going to be fashionably late, we might as well go ahead and get ready. So we all went back to Meredith's room to put on accessories and do one another's hair.

Meredith's room was really tiny—a closet, practically—but it was super colorful, with bright green chiffon-y curtains hanging down around the bed and a bunch of paintings she'd done all over the walls. In a corner of the room she had a little yellow desk, and along with all the books and papers she had for class there was half a rainbow-colored sweater that she was crocheting.

She had tons of accessories too: big beaded necklaces and little jingly charm bracelets, batiked silk scarves and skinny leather belts. I settled on wearing just one necklace she'd made out of a lot of little vintage buttons, but Judith ended up putting on a
bunch of scarves and bracelets that made her simple tank-top-and-jeans outfit look way more exotic, almost like a belly dancer's or something. Then Judith did Meredith's makeup in such a way that it brought out her eyes and cheekbones, without looking fake or overdone at all. It was amazing the way Meredith and Judith complemented each other; it made me a little jealous, even. I've had a lot of best friends, but never one who brought out all my best qualities like that. Maybe if I got to know the two of them better, I thought, they'd have the same effect on me.

Meredith changed her outfit like five times until she settled on this neat patchwork sundress that she and her mom had made together sometime during the summer. Then we were all ready to go. We said good-bye to Meredith's grandma, went outside and down to the corner, and I stepped off the curb to hail another cab.

We really could just take the subway, you know,” said Judith as a yellow taxi came to a stop in front of us. “That would probably be cheaper.”

“No, there're three of us. So it's the same, practically,” said Meredith, opening the door. “Flan's right—this makes more sense.”

I climbed in after Meredith. Judith got in and told the driver the address, and pretty soon we were speeding toward the party. I looked at my watch: 8:15. So much for fashionably late. We'd be lucky if we weren't early.

“I hope Jules is there,” Meredith sighed, looking out the window of the cab. “He's cute.”

“Not as cute as Eric,” Judith pointed out.

“I thought you said he was a snob,” I said.

“Yeah, but when he's as cute as that, who cares? It's not like I'm going to pay attention to anything he says anyway.”

“Well, Jules likes animals. Remember that story he told about his dog? I think that's a cute quality in a guy.”

“Listen, there're going to be a million guys at this party way cuter than Jules. I'm sure at least one of them will have a gerbil or something.” Judith flipped her hair back.