Fantasy Summer Page 11

  And two days later, when Torey’s mother actually called and told Torey that Jennifer Fitzhugh had had a satellite disk and a twenty-five-inch color TV delivered and installed, Robin was hardly surprised at all.

  “Just think of it as a giant turkey,” she told Torey. “You can even name it for Ralph.”

  Torey looked at her and laughed. “There are times,” she said, “times when I just don’t know …” But she grew silent and didn’t tell Robin what it was she didn’t know.

  Robin sat there and looked at Torey. Even if Torey found the answers to her questions, she’d be unlikely to confide them, she realized. And that was all right too. There had to be some form of pride even Torey could afford.

  11

  “But now Ned’s sending me flowers!” Torey wailed. “See what you got me into, Robin?”

  “My heart is breaking,” Robin said. “An absolutely terrific guy is sending you flowers. Even Tim, who is perfect, doesn’t send me flowers.”

  “If you hadn’t made me call him, he would have just vanished,” Torey continued. “They all do if you ignore them long enough.”

  “You have a lot of experience with this?” Robin asked, laughing. Only Torey would find it a problem that Ned Brundege was pursuing her.

  “There have been other guys,” Torey said. “You know how it is.”

  “I only wish,” Robin replied. “Torey, I’m really sorry I can’t get more upset for you, but why don’t you just relax and enjoy it? Like your family must be enjoying their new TV set.”

  “Are you kidding?” Torey asked. “They hate it. First of all, Dad can’t see what’s on, so they have to explain all the action to him. And they get so many stations, and the reception is so good, all the neighbors keep coming over to watch, and Mom feels obliged to have something to feed them, and it’s costing her a fortune. And they feel they have to watch Highwater and they can’t figure out the plot at all. They just keep seeing Jennifer Fitzhugh and saying ‘She’s the one’—and they don’t mean it as a compliment. Mom says the kids don’t spend any time outside anymore; they’re always stuck in front of the TV set. I knew there was a reason we never owned one.”

  “There must be something good about it,” Robin said.

  “My brother likes it,” Torey admitted. “Which makes things easier on the rest of the family. They can just put him down in front of it, and he’s satisfied for a few hours.”

  “Parents have been doing that with kids for years,” Robin said. “Welcome to twentieth-century America.”

  “Maybe it’ll be broken by the time I get home,” Torey grumbled.

  Robin smiled. At least she’d gotten Torey off the subject of Ned. Torey really wasn’t much of a complainer, but when she did complain, it was always about good things. This was the third time she’d run into Torey in the ladies’ room in the last week, and all three times Torey had been upset over something nice Ned had done. He’d asked her out for dinner. He’d asked her over for dinner with his parents (a thought, Robin had to admit, that would have terrified her too). He’d sent flowers. He’d called her at work three times. He’d done all the things most girls dreamed their boyfriends would do. And all he’d succeeded in doing was aggravating Torey. There was no accounting for tastes.

  “Tonight should be fun, though,” Robin said. “The Dan Keller movie preview. The four of us haven’t done anything together in a while.”

  “That’s because you all keep going out,” Torey said, combing her hair. “You and Tim, and Ashley and Annie both with Harvey.”

  “Isn’t that weird?” Robin said. “Has Annie told you just what’s going on?”

  “Just that Harvey is a perfect gentleman when they’re together,” Torey replied. “And she likes him a lot. What does Ashley say?”

  “Not much,” Robin said. “That’s one of the things that makes me suspicious. Ashley never keeps quiet about things. Something must be going on.”

  “I don’t believe this,” Torey said.

  “What?” Robin asked, reluctantly putting her comb away.

  “The way we’re standing around the ladies’ room, pretending to comb our hair, when we’re gossiping, and not working,” Torey replied. “They aren’t paying us to gossip.”

  “You’re the one who started it,” Robin pointed out.

  “And I’m going to be the one to stop it,” Torey said. “’Bye, Robin. See you after work.”

  Robin watched Torey walk out, and then followed her. It occurred to her that Ashley might have told Torey something in secrecy, and that was why Torey walked out so abruptly. Ashley and Torey had made a connection, that for all of Ashley’s endless chatter at Robin, she and Robin didn’t have. And Robin had no doubt that a secret told to Torey would be a secret forever.

  Robin walked back to Shelley Haslitt’s office. It was unlike Annie to agree to see a guy who was also dating a friend of hers. Something was definitely going on, and Robin had the feeling that everybody knew what it was except her.

  She was looking forward to the movie preview, just because it would be something they’d all be doing together. She missed the sense she’d had in the beginning of the summer of the four of them against the world. Lately they’d all been so busy with so many different things, they didn’t do anything together anymore. They all had secrets. It wasn’t as much fun.

  And although none of them were admitting it, the fact that the makeovers were just a couple of days away was putting everybody on edge. How the girls photographed after they were made over would be one of the deciding factors concerning which one of them would be the cover girl.

  Robin paused for a moment before she entered the office. She wanted to be the cover girl so bad it hurt. She was sure she wouldn’t be picked. Torey was gorgeous, and Ashley oozed style, and even Annie was looking great, now that she’d lost some weight.

  On the other hand, she reminded herself, she had great demographics. She was the perfect Image reader. Of all of them, she probably deserved to be on the cover the most.

  “Are you going to stand out there forever?” Shelley asked her.

  “Coming,” Robin said. Fantasizing would just have to wait.

  “This is really exciting,” Torey said as the girls prepared that evening to enter the theater. “I never get to see movies.”

  “I never get to see good movies,” Robin declared. “They only show junk in my town.”

  “I never get to see R-rated movies,” Ashley complained. “My grandfather won’t let me. I have to fight to get him to allow me to see PG movies. It’s Disney or nothing, as far as he’s concerned.”

  “I never get to see enough movies,” Annie said. “I’d go every day of the week if I could.”

  “I didn’t know that,” Robin said.

  “I love them,” Annie replied. “I’ve been thinking a lot about it. Harvey says NYU has a great film department. Maybe I’ll go to NYU and major in film.”

  “Look at this,” Ashley said. “This theater is so cute.”

  The girls all checked out the theater. It was located in a midtown skyscraper owned by the company that produced the movie the girls were going to see. The theater seated about a hundred people, and the chairs were red plush, and, the girls soon discovered, rocked and swiveled. They found four together in a row they could all agree on, sat down, and watched as the theater half filled up.

  “Do you think they’re movie critics?” Annie asked as some of the people took out notebooks.

  “Could be,” Ashley said. “Have any of you been asked to review this thing for Image?”

  The girls shook their heads. “You haven’t, have you?” Robin asked.

  “Of course not,” Ashley said. “I’m in charge of creating fashion trends. That’s a full-time job.”

  “I saw three editors wearing white gloves this week,” Annie announced. “Only one circle pin, though.”

  “Fashion is an awesome responsibility,” Ashley said. “But one I can live up to.”

  “Such courage,” To
rey muttered. The girls giggled.

  “Behave yourselves,” Ashley said sharply. “We’re here as representatives of Image, and you know what that means.”

  “Do we ever,” Annie said with a sigh.

  “Shush,” Robin said. “The movie is about to start.”

  Everyone in the theater quieted down as the lights dimmed and the film began. Robin settled into her chair and waited to be entertained. Movies were a special treat for her, and she really liked Dan Keller, one of the best and handsomest of the new young actors.

  Other than the name of the movie, Time Tomorrow, and its star, Robin knew nothing about the film, which also added to the fun. The few movies she got to see, she always felt like she knew, because she’d heard so much about them already. This time she’d be the one in the know—unlike the mystery-triangle story of Ashley/Annie/Harvey.

  Robin laughed at herself. Here she was, going to the preview of a movie, and all she could think about were the romantic complications that surrounded her. Romance could wait an evening.

  “I wish I had popcorn,” Ashley whispered. Annie elbowed her, and the girls had to suppress their giggles. This was going to be wonderful, Robin realized. A brand-new movie with brand-new friends.

  Ashley sighed lustfully when Dan Keller made his first appearance in the film, and that caused more elbowing and giggling, but the girls soon settled down to follow the story. Dan was a freshman in college, trying out for the football team. Sure enough, he made the freshman squad. But another kid on the team, a spoiled rich kid, kept picking on Dan, taunting him and challenging him. Finally Dan couldn’t take it anymore, and agreed to a game of chicken with the rich kid. Dan borrowed his girlfriend’s car, and the rich kid showed up in a fancy sports car. They both started racing toward the end of a cliff, only the rich kid managed to stop his car at the last second, and Dan couldn’t. His car kept going, off the cliff, and the next shot was of his twisted and mangled body caught inside the car.

  Robin managed to sit through a few more minutes of the movie, as Dan was rescued from the wreck and raced to the hospital. But at the first shot of the intensive-care ward, she knew if she stayed there one minute more she’d get hysterical.

  “Excuse me,” she whispered, and started stepping over the others in an effort to get free.

  “You okay?” Annie asked.

  “Fine,” Robin whispered. She worked her way to the aisle and ran to the exit. As she opened the door, the light from the hallway shone into the theater, and Robin slammed it shut as fast as she could, embarrassed by the noise it made. But she had to get out, away from that movie, before there were too many memories of Caro to deal with.

  Robin found the ladies’ room, and was relieved to see it was empty. She sat down on the cool tile floor and tried so hard not to cry she was almost surprised to feel the tears on her cheeks.

  Why Caro? Of all the teenagers in America, in the world, why did Caro have to be the one to die? There were four hundred seniors in Caro’s class. Why couldn’t it have been one of them instead?

  “Robin?”

  “Annie,” Robin said, wishing she’d torn off some toilet paper to use as tissues. “What are you doing here?”

  “I was worried about you,” Annie said. “And the movie was starting to drive me crazy, so I figured if it was bothering me that much, you must have hated it. I came to find you. Is that okay?”

  “That’s fine,” Robin said, sniffling.

  “I have tissues,” Annie said. “I always carry a packet with me. My mother makes me.” She dug through her pocketbook until she found them.

  Robin took one and blew her nose gratefully. Aunt Gail was a smart woman. “You love movies,” she said when she was feeling more capable of conversation. “Don’t you want to go back?”

  “Not unless you want me to,” Annie replied.

  “No,” Robin said. “I really don’t want to be alone right now.”

  “Good,” Annie said, and sat down on the floor next to her cousin. “I dread going back in there. When I left, Dan had just found out he was going to be a quadriplegic. Half the audience is sobbing. Even Torey is sniffling.”

  “What’s Ashley doing?” Robin asked.

  “What do you think?” Annie replied. “She’s snickering away. I think we’re stuck with Dan Keller imitations for the rest of the summer. Go wash your face with cold water. You’ll feel better.”

  Robin got up and splashed water on her face. Annie was right. It did make her feel better.

  “We should talk about Caro someday,” Annie said.

  “We should,” Robin said. “But not right now.”

  “We should talk about what her accident did to us,” Annie said. “We were really close when we were kids. You’ve always been my favorite cousin.”

  “You were mine too,” Robin replied.

  “When Caro died, I got the feeling you didn’t like me so much anymore,” Annie said. “Maybe you resented it that it was your sister and not my brother who died.”

  “No,” Robin said. “I didn’t want it to be anybody I knew. That wasn’t it.”

  “Then what was it?” Annie asked.

  Robin licked her lips. “It’s hard to explain,” she said. “I guess I felt you let me down.”

  “I know I felt that way,” Annie said. “I felt like an idiot. I didn’t know what to say to you. I was thirteen years old, and somebody I loved very much died, and that made no sense to me. I was so angry. And I knew there were things I should know to say to you, but I didn’t know what they were, and my mother didn’t know what to say to your mother. My mother cried every single night for a year after Caro died. I asked her what I should say to you at the funeral, and she said I should say I loved you, but I was thirteen years old, and I hate to admit this, I was so embarrassed, I just couldn’t say it. So I didn’t say anything.”

  “You didn’t even walk over to me,” Robin said. “I was counting on you to sit next to me, and you sat way at the other end of the row. You totally avoided me all day.”

  “I’m sorry,” Annie said. “I was thirteen and I was stupid, and you can’t know how sorry I am.”

  Robin found herself crying again. She hated crying in front of other people, had hated it since Caro’s accident, but now she didn’t care. She sat on the floor sobbing, and soon Annie was embracing her, patting her on the back, and crying too.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry …” Torey said.

  Annie and Robin broke away.

  “I didn’t mean …” Torey said. “I mean, I’ll just go.”

  “No, it’s okay,” Robin said, and took a deep breath. “Why aren’t you watching the movie?”

  “I hated it,” Torey said. “I hate movies about accidents. Are you two all right?”

  “We’re fine,” Robin replied, using a couple more of Annie’s tissues. She wasn’t the only one, she realized, who knew what pain felt like. “We’re cousins. Annie and I. Our mothers are twin sisters.”

  “Is that what it is?” Torey said. “Ashley and I knew you were connected, but we didn’t guess cousins. I thought you were old friends who didn’t like each other anymore. Ashley thought maybe you were stepsisters who’d been separated. I don’t know why we didn’t think of cousins. Cousins is so obvious. You even look a little bit alike.”

  “We do?” Annie asked.

  “Around the eyes,” Torey said. “I’m babbling, aren’t I? That’s because I’m deeply embarrassed. I’m sorry. I’ll shut up and go.”

  “Please don’t,” Robin said. “Sit down with us and help us change the subject. I’ve cried enough for one day.”

  So Torey sat down. Robin noted that even sitting down on a bathroom floor was a graceful act for Torey. “I don’t suppose you ever had dance lessons?” she asked.

  “Of course not,” Torey said. “We couldn’t—”

  “—afford dance lessons,” Annie and Robin finished for her.

  “Now I really am embarrassed,” Torey said. “I swear, I won’t mention money again
for the rest of the summer.”

  “I’m going to hold you to that,” Annie said. “You should hear her sometimes at night,” she said to Robin. “I swear she mutters dollars and cents to herself in her sleep.”

  “Ashley mutters boys’ names,” Robin reported. “Sometimes things get very interesting.”

  “I should hope so,” Ashley said, entering the ladies’ room. “I do it just to entertain you.”

  “Why are you here?” Annie asked, making room for Ashley on the floor.

  “I didn’t feel up to representing Image all by myself,” Ashley replied. “Besides, the theater was being flooded by tears. What are you all doing here?”

  “We’re talking about who is going to be cover girl,” Annie said.

  “We are?” Robin asked.

  “We are now,” Annie replied. “I’ve been yearning to find out what you guys think.”

  “Torey,” Robin declared. “Probably wearing white gloves.”

  “They aren’t going to use me,” Torey said. “I bet it’s going to be Ashley. She’s gorgeous. And what’s more, she knows it.”

  “I admit I’m gorgeous,” Ashley said. “But I’ve given this a lot of thought, and I’m sure they’re going to pick Annie.”

  “Me?” Annie asked. “Are you crazy?”

  “Not at all,” Ashley said. “Think about it. Torey has an entire article to her credit, and they’re using two of Robin’s photographs with it. They’re practically dedicating a fashion spread to me. And what does poor Annie get?”

  “A good salary, fabulous times in New York, and a makeover,” Annie replied. “That’s enough.”

  “You get an article devoted to your diet, with before-and-after pictures,” Ashley said. “You going to tell me they didn’t take pictures of you as soon as you started at Image?”

  “They did,” Annie admitted.

  “A big article about you,” Ashley concluded. “With your picture on the cover. Wanna bet?”

  “Sure,” Annie said. “Because I bet it’s going to be Robin.”

  “Me?” Robin squeaked. “You really think they’d pick me?”

  “You’re the prettiest one of us all,” Annie said. “You’re not beautiful like Torey, but you’re so pretty. And you look the way Image thinks of itself. Wholesome and Midwestern.”