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Authors: Judith Krantz

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BOOK: The Jewels of Tessa Kent
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I
n the early weeks of their freshman year at Sacred Heart’s high school, soon after they both turned fourteen, Mimi and Teresa grew closer than ever, a clique of two who never trusted others to share their secret activities.

In the course of the past year they had worked intensively on their looks. Both girls had falls of fake hair that reached halfway to their waists, styled in a long flip. Both of them were adept at applying mascara, eyeliner, and eye shadow in shades from dead black to turquoise, and they owned a dozen lipsticks in colors ranging from deep red to frosted pale pink, as well as lipstick brushes and lip liner. They had practiced walking in the fashionable shoes they bought and kept in the back of Mimi’s closet, until they felt totally at ease in them. They had fishnet stockings and tights in every color and they had used their sewing instruction to make themselves dark, micro-miniskirts which they wore with clinging little sweaters. Their breasts had grown large enough to fill out the bras that Mimi’s mother owned, and they bought cheap versions of them with some of Mimi’s generous allowance.

“We look like absolute whores,” Teresa said one Saturday night in mid-September when she had been allowed to sleep over at Mimi’s. Her voice was filled with admiration. The two girls had groomed themselves to perfection and now they were alone in the house, for Mimi’s parents had gone out to what promised to be a long night at the country club.

“You’re absolutely wrong. We’re divine. You look like a dark, more beautiful, much more classy Jean Shrimpton, combined with Vivien Leigh at her best,” Mimi said assessingly. “I could pass for Verushka if she weren’t a giant.”

“And the reality is that I’m still not allowed to go out on dates, not till I’m sixteen, my father says, not that anyone’s ever asked me,” Teresa said gloomily, flinging herself down on Mimi’s bed.

“I have an idea,” Mimi said, inspired.

“Spare me,” Teresa sighed.

“No, listen, for heaven’s sake! We’re going to Mark O’Malley’s party! It was meant to be, don’t you see? It’s tonight, we’re dressed, and my parents will never know if we’re back in time. Oh, Teresa, I triple dare you!”

“Absolutely not.”

“Come on, it’s only going to a party, not another of your dreary mortal sins.”

“Correction, it’s
crashing
a party, and not even you, silver-tongued one, can convince me that’s the same thing as ‘going’ to a party.”

“What’s the worst thing that can happen?” Mimi demanded. “We’d be asked to leave? Oh, I don’t think so, my lovely one. There’s no question in my mind that when Mark O’Malley lays eyes on us he’s going to be very glad that we’ve favored him with our presence. He’d have asked us himself if he knew we existed.”

“Maybe,” Teresa said with a shrug. “Sure, maybe the captain of the football team at Greenwich High would be so overwhelmed by our charm and beauty that he’d have begged two convent girls to be his guests, that’s not impossible, but somehow we’ve escaped his eye, even
though we’ve never missed a game he’s played in. So forget about it, and stop bugging me.”

“Teresa, pay attention. I’m
going
to that party and so are you. You’ve got a crush on Mark O’Malley that’s as obvious as a big red wart on the end of your nose! You’ve had it for years and I’m sick of listening to you carry on about him. You’re just playing hard to convince so this is going to seem like my fault when I’m actually doing you a huge favor. Do you think I don’t know you well enough to understand that much, you hypocrite?” Mimi drawled. “All we have to do is put on panty hose instead of these fishnet stockings. They’re too old for even the seniors’ dress code. After that, it’s simply a matter of projecting the right attitude. We’ve trained for this for years, dope!”

“Even if I agreed to this crazy idea, there’s no way we could get there and back.”

“Have you forgotten the uses of a taxi so quickly, my little confirmation girl?”

“You are such a pure, true-blue, honest-to-God bitch!”

“Isn’t that why you love me?”

“It must be. I can’t think of a single other reason.”

A careful hour and a quarter after the party had started, Teresa and Mimi slipped casually into the large crowd at Mark O’Malley’s house. They were more quickly absorbed than they had imagined in their most optimistic moments, blending perfectly with all the other girls. Their hem lengths, their shoes, their hair and makeup worked to add years to their true ages. Anyone who didn’t recognize them would assume that they were dates from another school.

“Let’s have a drink for courage,” Mimi murmured.

“Darn it, Mimi, we decided we wouldn’t drink so we’d keep our wits about us. Remember we have to phone for a taxi home.”

“Oh, for Pete’s sake, all they have is some kind of
fruit punch, and you’re an experienced Wild Turkey girl. At least carry a cup so you’ll have something to do with your hands.” Mimi sipped in a ladylike way. “It’s mostly pineapple juice, Teresa, try it at least.”

“All right, but we can’t just stand here, we have to mingle … but don’t go so far away that I don’t know where you are.”

“I’ll keep my eye on you—oh, Mark, hi! This is a great party! You invited the world.”

“I guess I must have.” Their host smiled down at both the girls, fully aware that he didn’t know them, but who cared with girls this cute? Wrong, the blond one was cute, the dark-haired girl was flat-out gorgeous. No way he could ever have seen a girl so beautiful and let it slip his mind.

“Anyone for a dance?”

“Thanks,” Mimi said quickly, “but I’m waiting for my date to get out of the john. Teresa, why don’t you dance with Mark?”

“Teresa,” he said. “Nice name. Come on.” He took Teresa’s glass of punch and put it down, grasped her firmly by her upper arm, and led her away.

“Do you talk, mystery guest? Or do we need your little friend to interpret for us?”

“I can speak for myself,” Teresa said hardily, summoning all her reserves of dramatic power to get the words out. Mark O’Malley up close was far more devastating than he was from a distance at a game. He was as tall and muscular as any fully grown man, his curly dark hair as long as the school regulations would permit, his eyes bright and blue and smiling, with a man’s confidence. She could feel nothing but the warmth of his hand on her arm.

“How old are you?” he asked suddenly, stopping in mid-stride.

“Eighteen, why?”

“I thought you might be older. You make the other girls look like kids.”

“No, just a simple eighteen.”

“But experienced?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“There’s something about your eyes.”

“Maybe I’m what they call an old soul,” Teresa said, smiling slightly. This wasn’t so hard, after all.

“In a young body. I’ve never met a sexy old soul before … good combination.”

“Aren’t we going to dance?” Teresa asked.

“Oh, I don’t think we really want to, do we? It’s noisy and crowded and everybody’s doing his own thing and sweating up a storm. You can’t talk when you dance, and somebody might try to grab you away from me. I think what we want to do is get some more punch and find a place to get to know each other … I know just the place.”

“But Mimi …”

“Your friend can take care of herself, can’t she?”

“If anybody can.” Teresa laughed and relaxed.

“She’s the one who talked you into crashing my party, isn’t she?”

“Oh!”

“Don’t be embarrassed, I’m glad you did. Where do you two go to school?”

“Oh, just a little private school in Stamford, you wouldn’t have heard of it.”

“Where’d you see me?”

“At a football game.”

“Well, I’m flattered my party lured you here. Or have you broken the hearts of all the boys in Stamford already, when it’s ten times the size of this place? Are you on the prowl for new victims, old soul? What’s your last name, lovely mystery girl?”

“Carpenter.”

“Well, Teresa Carpenter, come on upstairs with me so we can chat without interruptions from this horde of bandits. I want to find out more about you … I’d like to see you again, take you out on a real date.”

“I don’t think so,” Teresa said slowly as they mounted the stairs.

“Don’t think you want to see me again?”

“I don’t think I want to go into a room alone with you.”

“Don’t ‘want to’ or don’t think you should?”

“I don’t think I should.”

“I’ll be good, I promise.” Teresa looked up at Mark’s face and saw nothing there but lively interest and a touch of amusement at what he thought were her flirtatious wiles. He didn’t realize that she’d never been alone with an older boy in her life, or a boy of any age who wasn’t a first cousin, she thought. Any believable eighteen-year-old girl would know how to handle the situation.

“I thought you wanted to get more punch,” she temporized, as he opened a door.

“I have my own private stash. I’m the host, remember?”

“Oh—it’s your bedroom!” Teresa said as she walked in. She stopped dead and looked around at the football trophies and banners on the wall.

“What did you expect?”

“I wasn’t thinking. I’d better go down.”

“Teresa! Sit down on that window seat and stop being silly. You act as if I’m going to attack you.”

“How do I know you’re not?” she asked lightly, repressing the tremor in her voice.

“I’ve never attacked a girl in my life. To be frank, I’ve never had to, never wanted to. Yeah, that’s better, sit down and get comfortable. Now, did you break up with your boyfriend? Is that why you’re here, to make someone jealous? Because you could, you know, you could so easily, just by looking at me the way you’re looking now.”

“Looking? There’s nothing special about my look.”

“You look … let’s see … sort of as if you might take to me if you knew me better.”

“You seem … likable enough,” Teresa said, gulping her warmish drink as she tried to make herself realize that she was alone with Mark O’Malley, the boy she’d been in love with for years, an agonized, passionate
first love, a hopeless love for this boy who was the hero of the entire high school, the boy who had always been the focus of her fantasies. She could never have imagined this, she realized, the two of them talking easily on a window seat in the moonlight, not if she’d lived a million years. It was too real to be a fantasy. She felt the wild beating of her pulse in her forehead and the thumping of her heart and the sweat under her arms, and she couldn’t make herself stop looking at his mouth.

“Could I have some more of that?” she asked, holding out her glass. It tasted harmless, and her mouth was dry with excitement.

“Sure thing. My dad made it and then he and my mom took off for the country club. They said they’d be back by the stroke of midnight to make sure that every last rotten kid was out of the house. I’ll be glad when college starts and I get out from under their eagle eyes.”

“My parents are the same way. I can’t wait to be on my own.”

“Where did you apply?”

“Oh, the usual places.”

“With a fallback, right? Somewhere you’re sure you can get in?”

“Naturally,” Teresa said with nonchalance. What college would be a good fallback, whatever that was?

“Which one?”

“… uh … Smith.”

“Very funny. Come over and sit closer. For an incredibly beautiful girl you’re an awful liar. Did you know that? Or else you’ve got a great sense of humor. Or a genius IQ. Which is it?” He leaned toward her and kissed her lightly on the lips. “Oh, nice. Nice. Here, give me another kiss … wasn’t that nice?”

“Oh my God … oh, Mark,
yes!

“You’ve got to stop crying, Teresa,” Mimi hissed as soon as they reached the privacy of her bedroom,
after a taxi ride during which Teresa shook with silent sobs.

“I can’t. I can’t, oh God, Mimi, I can’t stop.”

“Teresa, damn it, you terrified me! One minute you were there and then you’d disappeared and so had he. I looked everywhere for you, I didn’t do anything else all evening. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t shown up eventually.
Where the hell were you?

“Oh, Mimi, I can’t … it couldn’t have happened, tell me it couldn’t,” Teresa pleaded through her unstoppable tears.


What
couldn’t?” Mimi whispered, cold with fright.

“I can’t tell you, I can’t talk about it, I can’t—”

“You’d damn well better or I’m going to tell my mother that Mark O’Malley did something awful to you. Your hair’s a mess, you’ve lost your bra, you’re in shock.… Mom knows his mother and they’ll get to the bottom of this!”

“No! You’d never—”

“The hell I wouldn’t. I’m not going to end up in the middle here. What happened? Did he rape you?”

“No, no, please Mimi, stop!”

Mimi pulled Teresa’s chin up with all her strength and inspected her devastated face.

“That bastard! He won’t get away with this. Shit, it’s all my fault, I was the one who triple dared you. I could kill myself.”


He didn’t rape me!

“Then you’d better tell me exactly why you’re carrying on like this.”

“We … made love. I think …”

“Teresa! You’re nuts! You
never
made love, that’s crazy. You’ve got it all mixed up. Tell me exactly what happened, don’t leave out anything … no way you ‘made love,’ please, credit me with some intelligence.”

“We started out just kissing, nicely, just kissing, you understand? Sitting in the window seat of his room. We had a couple of glasses of punch … two, maybe three, it must have been stronger than I thought. And then, little
by little it got more … hot and heavy and we ended up lying on top of his bed and we were necking, you know, and then, I guess we were petting … heavy petting … he took off my dress and my bra and kissed my breasts and sucked on my nipples and then—”

“I knew he raped you!”

“No, Mimi, I
wanted
him to, I helped him do it, I took off my panties myself, I couldn’t stop myself. I can’t tell you the crazy way I felt, I just wanted to finally find out, and then I had to see … I
had
to see what it looked like in real life, not just in photos, so I let him take it out and put it on my stomach.” She fell silent.

BOOK: The Jewels of Tessa Kent
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