Filed to story: The One That Got Away
I hop around my room, searching for my over-the-knee socks, then searching for my strawberry lip pot that looks like a strawberry. Gosh, I really need to clean my room. It’s hard to find anything in this mess.
I run to Alice’s room for her big grandpa cardigan, and I pass Kitty’s open door, where I see Louis and Kitty lying on the floor, working with her lab set. I root through Alice’s sweater drawer, which is now T-shirts and shorts because she’s taken most of her sweaters. No grandpa cardigan. But at the bottom of the drawer there is an envelope. A letter, from Josh.
I want to open it so badly. I know I shouldn’t.
Carefully, ever so carefully, I take out the letter and unfold it.
Dear Alice,
You say we had to break up because you don’t want to go to college with a boyfriend, and you want your freedom, and you don’t want to be held back. But you know and I know that’s not the real reason. You broke up with me because we had sex and you were scared of getting close to me.
I stop reading.
I can’t believe it. Chris was right and I was wrong. Alice and Josh did have sex. It’s like everything I thought I knew is the opposite. I thought I knew exactly who my sister was, but it turns out I don’t know anything.
I hear Louis calling my name. “Bella! Are you ready yet?”
Hastily I fold the letter up and put it back in the envelope. I put it back in the drawer and slam the drawer shut. “Coming!”
We’re standing at the front door of Steve Bledell’s mansion. Steve’s on the football team; he’s mostly known for having a rich stepdad with his own plane.
“Ready?” Louis asks me.
I wipe my palms on my shorts. I wish I’d had time to do something better to my hair. “Not really.”
“Then let’s talk strategy for a second. All you have to do is act like you’re in love with me. That shouldn’t be too hard.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re the vainest boy I’ve ever met.”
Louis grins and shrugs. He’s got his hand on the doorknob, but then he stops. “Hold on,” he says, and he pulls the hair tie out of my hair and tosses it into the yard.
“Hey!”
“It looks better down. Just trust me.” Louis runs his fingers through my hair and fluffs it up, and I swat his hand away. Then he takes his phone out of his back pocket and he snaps a picture of me.
I give him a puzzled look, and he explains, “In case Vivian checks my phone.” I watch as he sets the picture as his wallpaper.
“Can we do another one?” I don’t like the way my hair looks.
“Nah, I like it. You look pretty.” He probably only said it so we could hurry up and go inside, but it makes me feel good.
Walking into this party with Louis Kavinsky, I can’t help but feel a sudden rush of pride. He’s here with me. Or is it that I’m here with him?
I see her as soon as we walk in – she’s on the couch with her girls; they’re all drinking from red Solo cups. No boyfriend in sight. She raises her eyebrows at me and whispers something to Emily Nussbaum. “Heyyy, Bella,” Emily calls out, crooking her finger at me. “Come sit by us.”
I start to walk towards them, thinking Louis is next to me, but he’s not. He’s stopped to say hi to someone. I look at him with panicky eyes and he just gestures at me to keep going. He mouths, You’re up.
Crossing the room alone feels like crossing a continent, with Vivian and her friends watching me. “Hi, guys,” I say, and my voice comes out high-pitched and little-girlish. There’s no room for me on the couch, so I perch on an armrest like a bird on a telephone wire. I keep my eyes trained on Louis’s back; he is across the room with some guys from the lacrosse team. It must be nice to be him. So at ease, so comfortable with himself, knowing that people are waiting for him, like, Louis’s here, now the party can really get started. I look around the room, just to have something to do, and see Gabe and Darrell, and they wave at me very nicely, but they don’t come over. It feels like everyone is waiting and watching, waiting and watching to see what Genevivian will do.
I wish I hadn’t come.
Emily leans forward. “We’re all dying to know … what’s the story with you and Kavinsky?”
I know she’s been commissioned by Vivian to ask. Gen’s sipping her drink, casual as can be, but she’s waiting for my answer. Is she drunk yet? I wonder. From everything I’ve heard and know about Gen, she is a mean drunk. Not that I’ve ever personally experienced it, but I’ve heard things. There are stories.
I wet my lips. “Whatever Louis said … I guess that’s the story.”
Emily waves this off like whatever Louis says doesn’t really count. “We want to hear it from you. I mean, it’s just so surprising. How did this even happen?” She leans closer, like we are girlfriends.
When I hesitate, when my eyes dart towards Genevivian, she smiles and rolls her eyes. “It’s OK, you can say, Bella. Louis and I are over. I don’t know if he told you this, but I’m actually the one who broke up with him, so.”
I nod. “That’s what he said.” That is not what he said, but it’s what I already knew.
“So when did you guys get together?” She tries to sound offhand, but I know my answer is important to her. She’s trying to catch me in something.
“Pretty recently,” I say.
“How recently?” she presses.
I swallow. “Right before school started,” I tell her. Isn’t that what Louis and I decided the story was going to be?
Genevivian’s eyes go bright and my heart sinks. I’ve said the wrong thing, but it’s too late. It’s hard not to get caught up in her spell. She’s the kind of person you want to like you. You know she can be cruel; you’ve seen her be cruel. But when her eyes are on you, and she’s paying attention to you, you want it to last. Her beauty is part of it, but there’s something more – something that draws you in; I think it’s her transparency – everything she thinks or feels is written all over her face, and even if it wasn’t, she’d say it anyway, because she says what she thinks, without thinking first.
I can see why Louis has loved her for so long.
“I think it’s adorable,” Genevivian says, and then the girls start talking about some concert they’re trying to get tickets for and I just sit there, glad I don’t have to talk any more, wondering how it’s going with the cupcakes back at home. I hope Daddy isn’t overbaking them. There’s nothing worse than a dry cupcake.
The girls move on to talking about Halloween costumes, so I get up and go to the bathroom. I come back to find Louis sitting in a wingback leather armchair, drinking a beer and talking to Gabe. There’s nowhere for me to sit; my spot on the couch has been taken. Now what?
I stand there for a second and then I go for it: I do what a girl in love with Louis would do. I do what Genevivian would do. I march right in and plop down in his lap like it’s my rightful place.
Louis yelps in surprise. “Hey,” he says, coughing on his beer.