dressed in Anne’s colors: electric screaming royal blue, threaded with silver, flashing with rhinestones, instruments gleaming in the musicians’ hands. The drummer nodded hypnotically over his drums. The singer’s mouth was wed to his mike.
Above them were no autumn leaves. The ceiling was hung with stars of mylar, and the lighting pointed up and the stars glistened. A break in the forest … a setting for romance.
Anne and Con were instantly the center of action. For the first time Anne realized that it was Con who attracted the groups of kids, not herself. She was not participating; she simply stood there while Con hugged her waist, tugging her close, releasing her, tugging her close again, at whatever beat the drummer set.
She was terribly aware that all these people saying hello, and laughing, and clapping Con on the shoulder were his friends, or perhaps their friends, but none of them were her friends. Oh, Con, she thought, choking with fear, oh Con, don’t be mad at me, don’t leave me, I have no one else, I can’t go home and face my mother and my grandmother without you, oh, Con, please. …
Into her hair Con whispered, “ Smile .”
She smiled. She said the right things. She even managed to laugh at the appropriate moments. I’m pregnant, she thought at them. What would you do if I told you that? Would you laugh like Con? Would you say, don’t be ridiculous, Anne, you’re perfect, you don’t do things like that?
Maybe that’s what people normally do when somebody tells them something they don’t want to hear, Anne thought. What would I say in Con’s place? If he said to me, Your father’s dead. Your house burned down. Your country is at war. Would I say, Don’t be ridiculous, Con. Stop trying to ruin my evening.
“If I know Kip,” said Con, “there’s enough food for an army tonight. Let’s go pig out.”
She could barely talk, let alone swallow food. She nodded brightly, and a whole crowd of them headed for the scarlet path. Kip’s arrangement forced them to walk only two abreast, and they marched, like soldiers, headed for food. Everybody joked.
Not one person noticed anything wrong with Anne. She had never been so aware that she was merely Con’s girl, not Anne Stephens. As long as Con laughed, they would just assume she was laughing, too. They would never really look to see.
Never in her life had Beth Rose Chapman done anything so difficult as walk down that corridor after Anne and Con. The closeness of them! The way Con had his arm around her. The way he paused to brush his lips over her burnished gold hair and whispered lovingly.
Beth’s heart hurt. I don’t have that kind of love, she thought. Did I think I was going to come here and find it waiting for me, like a package on layaway?
She could hide out in the lavatory for two hours, telephone home, fib about the dance.
“After you,” said a gallant male voice, and Con laughed and took Anne ahead of another couple. Beth Rose drew inexorably nearer. The other couple were Molly and some older, handsome, wonderful-looking guy.
“What a beautiful dress!” exclaimed Molly, as Beth Rose came up to them.
Molly, who could get boys the way Beth could get ducks when she flung stale bread into the pond. “Here, duck, duck, duck,” Beth would call, and the ducks came. “Here, boys, boys, boys,” Molly would call, and the boys came.
“Thank you,” Beth said.
Molly’s eyes had been on the dress exclusively; she had not so much as bothered to look high enough to see who was wearing it. If Beth had kept silent she would have been all right. Now Molly glanced at her. “Why, Beth,” she said sweetly. “I didn’t expect to see you at the dance.”
Of course not. Beth was the last person a boy would think of asking. Don’t ask me where my date is, prayed Beth.
Molly said, “Where’s your date? Who’d you come with?”
Beth thought up a good lie, rehearsed it, and accidentally said, “I came alone.”
Molly stared
Above them were no autumn leaves. The ceiling was hung with stars of mylar, and the lighting pointed up and the stars glistened. A break in the forest … a setting for romance.
Anne and Con were instantly the center of action. For the first time Anne realized that it was Con who attracted the groups of kids, not herself. She was not participating; she simply stood there while Con hugged her waist, tugging her close, releasing her, tugging her close again, at whatever beat the drummer set.
She was terribly aware that all these people saying hello, and laughing, and clapping Con on the shoulder were his friends, or perhaps their friends, but none of them were her friends. Oh, Con, she thought, choking with fear, oh Con, don’t be mad at me, don’t leave me, I have no one else, I can’t go home and face my mother and my grandmother without you, oh, Con, please. …
Into her hair Con whispered, “ Smile .”
She smiled. She said the right things. She even managed to laugh at the appropriate moments. I’m pregnant, she thought at them. What would you do if I told you that? Would you laugh like Con? Would you say, don’t be ridiculous, Anne, you’re perfect, you don’t do things like that?
Maybe that’s what people normally do when somebody tells them something they don’t want to hear, Anne thought. What would I say in Con’s place? If he said to me, Your father’s dead. Your house burned down. Your country is at war. Would I say, Don’t be ridiculous, Con. Stop trying to ruin my evening.
“If I know Kip,” said Con, “there’s enough food for an army tonight. Let’s go pig out.”
She could barely talk, let alone swallow food. She nodded brightly, and a whole crowd of them headed for the scarlet path. Kip’s arrangement forced them to walk only two abreast, and they marched, like soldiers, headed for food. Everybody joked.
Not one person noticed anything wrong with Anne. She had never been so aware that she was merely Con’s girl, not Anne Stephens. As long as Con laughed, they would just assume she was laughing, too. They would never really look to see.
Never in her life had Beth Rose Chapman done anything so difficult as walk down that corridor after Anne and Con. The closeness of them! The way Con had his arm around her. The way he paused to brush his lips over her burnished gold hair and whispered lovingly.
Beth’s heart hurt. I don’t have that kind of love, she thought. Did I think I was going to come here and find it waiting for me, like a package on layaway?
She could hide out in the lavatory for two hours, telephone home, fib about the dance.
“After you,” said a gallant male voice, and Con laughed and took Anne ahead of another couple. Beth Rose drew inexorably nearer. The other couple were Molly and some older, handsome, wonderful-looking guy.
“What a beautiful dress!” exclaimed Molly, as Beth Rose came up to them.
Molly, who could get boys the way Beth could get ducks when she flung stale bread into the pond. “Here, duck, duck, duck,” Beth would call, and the ducks came. “Here, boys, boys, boys,” Molly would call, and the boys came.
“Thank you,” Beth said.
Molly’s eyes had been on the dress exclusively; she had not so much as bothered to look high enough to see who was wearing it. If Beth had kept silent she would have been all right. Now Molly glanced at her. “Why, Beth,” she said sweetly. “I didn’t expect to see you at the dance.”
Of course not. Beth was the last person a boy would think of asking. Don’t ask me where my date is, prayed Beth.
Molly said, “Where’s your date? Who’d you come with?”
Beth thought up a good lie, rehearsed it, and accidentally said, “I came alone.”
Molly stared
Similar Books
