“They’d better,” Kashy said.
“God, I know,” Patricia groaned. “They’d better not embarrass me like this too much longer.” She went to greet some new arrivals.
Gilla perched on the couch with Kashy, trying to find a position that didn’t make her tummy bulge, trying to keep her mind on the small talk. Where was Foster? Oh, in the corner. Tanya was sitting way close to him, tugging at her necklace and smiling deeply into his eyes. Foster had his “I’m such a stud” smile on.
Mr. Bright came in with a tray of drinks. He pecked his chubby wife on the lips as she went by. He turned and contemplated her when her back was to him. He was smiling when he turned back. The smile lingered happily on his face long after the kiss was over.
Are you any less than she? Well, she certainly was, thank heaven. With any luck, it’d be a few years before she was as round as Mrs. Bright. And what was this “less than she” business, anyway? Who talked like that? Gilla took a glass of punch from Mr. Bright’s tray and sucked it down, trying to pay attention to Jahanara and Kashy talking about whether 14-karat gold was better for necklaces than 18-karat.
“Mum,” said Patricia from over by the door. “Dad?”
Her mother laughed nervously. “Yes, we’re going, we’re going. You have the phone number at the Hamptons’ house?”
“Yesss, Mum,” Patricia hissed. “See you later, okay?” She grabbed their coats from the hallway closet, all but bustled them out the door.
“We’ll be back by two A.M.!” her dad yelled over his shoulder. Everyone sat still until they heard that lovely noise, the sound of the car starting up and driving off down the street.
Foster got up, took the CD out of the stereo player. Thank God. Any more of that kiddie pop, and Gilla’d thought she’d probably barf. Foster grinned around to everyone, produced another CD from his chest pocket and put it into the CD player. A jungle mix started up. People cheered and started dancing. Patricia turned out all the lights but the one in the hallway.
And now Gilla needed to pee. Which meant she had to pass the clot of people stuck all over Roger again. Well, she really needed to check on that blouse, anyway. She’d just make sure she was far from Roger’s grasping hands. She stood, tugged at the hem of her blouse so it was covering her bum again. Reach those shoulders tall too, strong one. Stretch now. When had she started talking to herself like that? But it was good advice. She fluffed up her hair, drew herself up straight and walked with as much dignity as she could in the direction of the bathroom.
Roger and Gilla had been the first in their class to hit puberty. Roger’s voice had deepened into a raspy bass, and his shoulders, chest and arms had broadened with muscle. He’d shot up about a foot in the past few months, it seemed. He sauntered rather than walked and he always seemed to be braying an opinion on everything, the more insulting the better. Gilla flicked a glance at him. In one huge hand he had a paper napkin which he’d piled with three patties, two huge slices of black rum cake and a couple of slices of ham. He was pushing the food into his mouth as he brayed some boasty something at his buddies. He seemed barely aware of his own chewing and swallowing. Probably took a lot of feeding to keep that growing body going. He was handsome, though. Had a broad baby face with nice full lips and the beginnings of a goatee. People were willing to hang with him just in hopes that he would pay attention to them, so why did he need to spend his time making Gilla’s life miserable?
Oops. Shouldn’t even have thought it, ’cause now he’d noticed her noticing. He caught and held her gaze, and still looking at her, leaned over and murmured something at the knot of people gathered around him. The group burst out laughing. “No, really?” said Clarissa in a high, witchy voice. Gilla put her head down and surged out of the room, not stopping until she was up the stairs to the second floor and inside the bathroom. She stayed in there for as long as she dared.
When she came out, Clarissa was in the second-floor hallway. Gilla said, “Bathroom’s free now.”
“Did you really let them do that to you?”
“Huh?” In confusion, Gilla met Clarissa’s eyes. Clarissa’s cheeks were flushed and she had a bright, knowing look on her face.
“Roger told us. How you let him suck on your…” Clarissa bit on her bottom lip. Her cheeks got even pinker. “Then you let Haygood do it too. Don’t you, like, feel like a total slut now?”
“But I didn’t…”
“Oh, come on, Gilla. We all saw how you were looking at Roger.”
Liar! Can such a liar live? The thought hissed through Gilla, strong as someone whispering in her ear.
“You know,” Clarissa said, “you’re even kinda pretty. If you just lost some weight, you wouldn’t have to throw yourself at all those guys like that.”
Gilla felt her face go hot. Her mouth filled with saliva. She was suddenly very aware of little things: the bite of her bra into her skin, where it was trying to contain her fat, swingy breasts; the hard, lumpy memory of the cherry pit slipping down her throat; the bristly triangular hedge of her hair, bobbing at the base of her neck and swelling to cover her ears. Her mouth fell open, but no words came out.
“He doesn’t even really like you, you know.” Clarissa smirked at her and sauntered past her into the bathroom.
She couldn’t, she mustn’t still be there when Clarissa got out of the bathroom. In the awkward wedge heels, she clattered her way down the stairs like an elephant, her mind a jumble. Once in the downstairs hallway, she didn’t head back towards the happy, warm sound of laughter and music in the living room, but shoved her way out the front door.
It was even darker out there, despite the porch light being on. Foster was out on the porch, leaning against the railing and whispering with someone. Tanya, shivering in the short sundress she was wearing, was staring wide-eyed at Foster and hanging on every word. “And then,” Foster said, gesturing with his long arms, “I grabbed the ball from him, and I…” He turned, saw Gilla. “Hey girl, what’s up?”
Tanya looked at her like she was the insurance salesman who’d interrupted her dinner.
“I, Foster,” stammered Gilla. “What’s calumny mean?”
“Huh?” He pushed himself upright, looking concerned. “’Scuse me, Tanya, okay?”
“All right,” Tanya said sulkily. She went inside.
Gilla stood in the cold, shivering. That liar! He has no right!
Foster asked again, “What’s up?”
“Calumny. What’s it mean?” she repeated.
“I dunno. Why?”
“I think it means a lie, a really bad one.” He and his toadies. If you find a nest of vipers, should you not root it out? “It just came to me, you know?” Her thoughts were whipping and thrashing in the storm in her head. We never gave them our favor!
Foster came and put a hand on her shoulder, looked into her eyes. “Gilla, who’s telling lies? You gonna tell me what’s going on?”
The warmth of her friend’s palm through the cloth of her blouse brought her back to herself. “Damn, it’s cold out here!”
Something funny happened to Foster’s face. He hesitated, then opened his arms to her. “Here,” he said.
Blinking with surprise, Gilla stepped into the hug. She stopped shivering. They stood there for a few seconds, Gilla wondering what, what? Should she put her arms around him too? Were they still just friends? Was he just warming her up because she was cold? Did he like her? Well of course he liked her, he hung out with her and Kashy during lunch period at school almost every day. Lots of the guys gave him the gears for that. But did he like her like that? Did she want him to? By your own choice, never by another’s. What was she supposed to do now? And what was with all these weird things she seemed to be thinking all of a sudden?