Marianna Baer - Frost

A loud clattering came as David reached to put his plate on the coffee table and somehow knocked off a tray of cheese and crackers.

“Damn,” he said. “Sorry.” He began collecting the things that had scattered on the carpet.

I stood up. “More lasagna, anyone? While I’m in the kitchen?”

“Sure. Great food, Leena,” Cameron said, handing me his plate.

“Leena’s my god,” Viv said to the room. “She can cook, build furniture, fix her car, and tie a knot in a cherry stem with her tongue.”

“You’re so modest, Leena,” Celeste said. “You make it seem like you’re just another pretty, blond prep-school student.”

“That’s nice,” Abby said, turning to Celeste with a laser glare.

“What?” Celeste said. “I just meant that you’d never know she was so talented because she doesn’t talk about herself.”

“As opposed to you,” Abby said.

“That’s okay. I know what Celeste meant,” I interjected.

“Who wants a cupcake?”

“Damn right,” Celeste said to Abby, ignoring me. “I know I’m talented and ambitious and if I work hard, I’ll be successful. And I don’t think there’s anything wrong with saying that. Guys get away with bragging all the time.”

“You don’t know,” Abby said. “Anything could happen.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” David asked.

“Coffee?” I said.

“What I said.” Abby crossed her arms. “Anything could happen that would mean Celeste isn’t some raving success.”

“Look,” David said, “if you’re implying what I think you’re implying, that’s—”

“I think she’s just referring to life’s unpredictability,” I said, my arms now loaded up with dirty plates to bring to the kitchen. “Abby, can you help me here? Please? I’m about to drop something.”

In the lovely calm of Ms. Martin’s apartment, I took my time rinsing dishes and getting more food for Cameron. While Abby figured out the glass coffee-brewing contraption. I decided not to tell her to lay off Celeste, knowing that she was probably still feeling sensitive. The ironic thing was now that I thought about it, Abby and Celeste did have some similarities. Abby completely thought that she had the talent to be a successful professional actress, that stardom was hers for the taking. She’d only jumped on Celeste like that because she thought Celeste had dissed me.

When we got back into the common room, the mood had completely changed. Viv was doing a dance like a football player in the end zone, saying, “Oh, yeah. Oh, yeah,” waving her phone in the air.

“What’s up, Vee?” Abby said. “Some great-uncle die and leave you his fortune?”

“Better,” Viv said. “I got a message from my mother. You know how we have that random Monday off in a few weeks?”

“Curriculum Development Day,” I said, handing Cameron his refilled plate.

“Yeah. Do you guys want to spend the long weekend in New York, sans parents? They’re going to be in Paris and totally offered us the house.”

“Really?” I said. Viv’s family has an incredible town house that overlooks a huge park in Brooklyn. “If they won’t be there, who’ll write our chaperone letters?”

She waved a hand dismissively. “Dad’ll write the letters. He doesn’t care about rules like that.”

“Exdese!” Abby bounced up and down on the armchair as well as the ancient cushions would allow. “Truly exdese!”

“Don’t get too excited,” Whip said to Celeste. “Viv’s house is in an outer borough. Not the city.”

“Oh,” Celeste said. “I don’t think …”

A series of darting looks passed among us as we all realized the awkwardness of the moment. Viv and I held eyes for a second.

“Of course you’re invited,” Viv said to Celeste. “There’s plenty of room. And David, you should come, too. Cameron will be there so you won’t be totally outnumbered.”

“Thanks,” David said. “I have to see whether I signed up for a Ride Club trip.”

“If you ladies want to get out of the suburbs, I’ll be at my parents’ on the Upper East Side. You’re welcome to come visit,” Whip said. “I can send a car.”

“You’re such a snob,” Viv said.

“And what would it take to get you out to Brooklyn?” Celeste poked Whip on the shoulder. Her touch lingered.

I sensed movement from my right and when I looked over, David was standing and reaching for his jacket. “I just realized I’ve got something to do,” he said. “Sorry. I totally forgot.”

In amazingly quick time, he was out the door.

AN HOUR OR SO LATER, dinner was over, Viv and Cameron had banished me from the cleanup stage, and the vodka in my head wasn’t helping me decipher what had happened. I couldn’t sort out who had been mad or offended and why, and what repercussions there might be, if any, not to mention what the hell was going on with Celeste and Whip. Or Celeste and David. And the trip to New York! God.

I paced around my bedroom, picking things up and putting them down. When I walked by Celeste’s closet, I touched the doorknob. The next time, I let my hand rest on it, curving around the beveled glass. My hand turned and I heard the click of the latch and felt the door moving toward me as my arm pulled back. A shudder went through me as the air crept out.

Stepping away for a moment, I peeked into the hall to make sure that Celeste and Whip were in the little room with the door shut. Then I closed the door to the bedroom and locked it from the inside. Following an impulse, I grabbed Cubby off the windowsill.

I left the closet door open a crack so I’d have some light and so I’d be able to hear any movement from the hallway. I sat on the floor and shifted myself into the corner, partially covered by Celeste’s clothes, leaving a space for the wedge of light to stream through. I leaned my head against the wall and breathed in the cool, musty air.

I held Cubby up and looked in her eyes, which were catching just a bit of the light. “That was quite a dinner party, didn’t you think?” I said to her.

How on earth would I know ? I said to myself in Cubby’s accent. I wasn’t even there.

“Oh, right,” I whispered. “It got kind of messy. Boys, you know.”

Boys, yes. They can be dangerous.

“But cute,” I said.

All the same, you need to be careful.

I ran my finger over her feathers, up and down the scalloped ridges.

“It’s not like you have to worry,” I said. “You’re all nice and safe back here.”

I’m not the one who isn’t safe.

I didn’t like the voice she used when she said that. Of course, it was my voice. But at the same time, somehow, it wasn’t.

The bird tweet ringtone of Celeste’s phone disrupted whatever tipsy weirdness I was indulging in. I quickly pushed myself up and out of the closet, brushing the clothes back into place and shutting the door securely behind me.

Her cell lay on her dresser. David’s name flashed on the screen. I touched the glittery blue case and thought of him on the other end, pictured him shifting from foot to foot, the way he did, hoping the call would be answered. The tweets stopped.

I put Cubby back on the sill, her eyes facing the window. For once, I didn’t feel like having her watching over me. Then I sat on my bed with my head in my hands. After a minute I stood, picked up Celeste’s phone, and returned the call.

He answered right away. “Are you done with that jerk, or what?”

“Oh, hi, David … it’s Leena. Not Celeste. Her phone was right here so …”

“Oh. Hey. What’s up?”

“Not much. I just wanted to see if everything was okay. You left kind of suddenly.”