“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I love her, and if I want to be in her life, I have to accept her lifestyle.”
It hurt to hear him say it. He barely knew her; how could he love her? “Those sound like her words, not yours.”
What was this scene to be, Veronika wondered? Maybe Lorelei would claim the whole thing was Veronika’s idea? That seemed fairly pedestrian, unworthy of the (Veronika ran a count of the screens congregating outside) thirty-seven thousand six hundred forty-four people taking time away from their own pathetic lives to watch Lorelei live hers. What would Veronika recommend, if she were still on the inside? She’d go with a tearful apology. Nathan, love, I was so afraid you wouldn’t like me for me, so I asked someone who knows you well to help me.
“Wow, that’s a lot of screens,” Nathan said.
“Yup. And it’s showtime.” Veronika opened her door and stepped out. A real, live crowd of people had formed on the sidewalk, drawn by all the screens. They were leaning this way and that, trying to see what was going on.
When Nathan stepped out to meet Lorelei, the look of bright-eyed love on his face devastated Veronika. He and Lorelei embraced on the sidewalk, Lorelei turning her head as she squeezed him tight. With traffic whooshing by, and the live crowd muttering, Veronika couldn’t hear Nathan when he spoke. Sighing in frustration, she opened a screen among Lorelei’s fans rather than sidle over and appear nosy.
“—had me fooled,” Nathan was saying.
“Well, I didn’t mean to fool you,” Lorelei replied. “I didn’t employ her as a coach in the traditional sense. She served as kind of an adjunct—advising and arranging more than guiding.”
Oh, what complete bullshit. And, irony on top of irony, they weren’t her own words—Parsons was obviously feeding them to her.
“Hey, modern life,” Nathan said, shrugging. He looked around. “Do you want to grab a bite? Maybe we could invite Vee.”
Lorelei canted her head, smiling sort of wanly. “The thing is, Nathan, I fired Veronika partly because I don’t think things are working out between us. I’m just not feeling it, you know?”
A dozen conflicting emotions coursed through Veronika as Nathan reacted, his mouth tightening into an involuntary grimace. Lorelei put a hand on Nathan’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.”
“No,” Nathan said. “That’s fine. Sure.”
Joy. Anger. Relief. Sympathy. Veronika had never felt so conflicted. Break up with him—Veronika hadn’t considered that one, maybe because she couldn’t imagine breaking up with Nathan. But, yes, that would ramp up the drama.
Lorelei gave Nathan a big, fat consolation hug, still sporting that sympathetic-yet-smug half smile.
Anger. Veronika decided it was definitely mostly anger she was feeling. Well, shit, if Lorelei wanted drama, Veronika would give her some drama.
“Do you even know what ‘adjunct’ means?” Veronika asked, sauntering over.
“I’m sorry?” Lorelei said.
“You told Nathan you were employing me as a sort of adjunct, and I’m wondering if you know what it means, or if you simply parrot the exact words Parsons feeds you, with no idea what you’re saying.”
Lorelei rolled her eyes, just like the mean girls in high school used to. “You think you know me. You think you know why I live a public life. Why I went out with Nathan. Why I’m breaking up with him.” Her fingers flew for a few seconds—a graceful, lightning-quick flourish of systemwork Veronika was certain was for her benefit. “I may not be as transparent as you think.”
Veronika folded her arms. “I’ll tell you what I think. I think Parsons just fed that entire speech to you. I bet he fed you this line as well…” She worked her system, painfully aware of her own lack of grace and style, until she located the recording she wanted—from the argument she’d had with Lorelei the first time they’d met—and enlarged it so everyone could see and hear Lorelei self-righteously proclaim, “And just for the record, all of my lines are my own material.”
No one reacted. No one seemed to care that Lorelei had lied through her teeth, to all of them.
“Who’s Parsons?” Nathan asked.
“Parsons is her other coach. Excuse me—her director. He feeds her every syllable that comes out of her smarmy little mouth.” Veronika made a show of looking around. “Maybe he’s in the crowd right now.” She worked her system, enlarged a picture of him in the air. “Here he is. Has anyone seen this man?”
“Well, that’s the thing,” Lorelei said. “I was going to explain, but you didn’t give me a chance.”
“Oh, you were going to explain?” Veronika folded her arms. “Why don’t you explain?”
She turned to Nathan. “I have been working with an adviser. Again, not a coach in the traditional sense, but someone to help me navigate the complexities of living a public life, and… I’ve fallen in love with him.” She turned toward the crowd. Parsons stepped out, head down, hands in pockets. His grand entrance.
Veronika turned her face to the sky.
51
Veronika
Veronika retrieved a pebble by her feet. She leaned far over the railing so she could see the choppy water far below, centered the pebble just below her face, and let it drop.
It seemed a long, long time before it made a tiny splash.
Turning away from the water, she leaned against the railing, closed her eyes, listened to vehicles whoosh by. She never thought she’d come back to this spot, but since Lycan was alive and well, it still felt like her sanctuary—a place to reflect, more than a place of tragedy.
Veronika had prayed for Lorelei and Nathan to split, but now that they had, she didn’t feel the elation she’d anticipated. She felt angry, and sad for Nathan, who was taking it much worse than Veronika would have guessed. Mostly, though, she felt petty and frustrated that she cared so much about all of this, that her life revolved around petty crap.
This was not the life she wanted to lead, but somehow she couldn’t pull herself out of it and lead a life of consequence. A life like Sunali’s. Veronika didn’t care much for Sunali’s abrasiveness, but she admired Sunali’s guts. She respected Sunali, who lived for something larger than herself. You could psychoanalyze her motives—she was clearly driven by a profound rage at being abandoned by her son in the bridesicle center—but her actions were pure, and honest, and worthy of respect. And now she had the resources to do even more. No more meetings in her living room. Learning about the contents of Kilo’s will was the important event from yesterday, not Lorelei’s childish antics.
Ironically, Sunali could now execute Lorelei’s idea of unleashing ten thousand bridesicles on the city if she chose to, although Lorelei herself seemed to have lost interest in Bridesicle Watch. Maybe Veronika should continue volunteering, although she doubted Sunali would offer her a seat at the strategy meetings now that the group was well funded enough to attract seasoned professional protesters. Still, there was no shame in serving in the trenches for a cause you believed in. And she most surely believed in this cause. Seeing what Winter had gone through, and continued to go through, talking to Winter at the party about what it had been like to be in that crèche… it had moved Veronika deeply. If only everyone could speak to Winter. If only everyone could feel what Winter had felt.
Veronika’s eyes snapped open. She spun back toward the river, clutched the railing, her mind suddenly racing.
If only everyone could feel what Winter had felt.