Later the following day, I thought about our conversation on the beach and his questions. Was I wrong to be so confident about myself and what I was capable of doing? Ava didn’t know about my private walk with Daddy. I was tempted to tell her, because I wanted to hear what her answers were when Daddy told her these things and asked her similar questions. Then it occurred to me that he might not have felt the need to ask her these questions. Maybe he was more confident in her. Although he didn’t say it, I also felt he wanted what we discussed and how we discussed it to be something only between us, so I said nothing about it.
Our lives fell back into our regular daily activities. When I returned to school, the other students appeared to have lost all interest in and curiosity about Mark Daniels and, perhaps by proxy, me as well. Very few students said anything to me. I began to feel invisible. When I told Ava, she said I was lucky. She admitted to having had similar feelings and being grateful for it.
“You’ve outgrown them,” she told me, “and they know it, too. When they look at you, they don’t see themselves or someone who cares about the same things anymore. The boys are probably intimidated, and you’ve done a good job of driving the busybodies away. Good for you,” she said.
I didn’t feel the same way about it, but I didn’t disagree with her. The truth was, it was still quite lonely for me, and I hated that I was still someone looking through a window at everyone else. I was like the poor waif who stood outside the ice cream parlor watching the other, more fortunate kids lick their cones and eat their whipped cream. In class, in the hallways, or in the cafeteria, whenever I heard a conversation about parties or dances or dates girls had, I either moved away quickly or tried to close my ears by thinking hard about schoolwork. It got so I hated getting up in the morning to attend school, and some days, if it hadn’t been for Marla having to go, I wouldn’t have gone.
I think Ava either saw the turmoil going on inside me now or felt it. One morning, she decided to come to my rescue. I knew there were many reasons for Ava to concern herself with my happiness and well-being, not the least of which was her concern that I wouldn’t be able to step into her shoes and give her the freedom to leave and fulfill her own destiny. Then, at minimum, she would have to wait until Marla was capable of becoming the daughter Daddy needed.
When Mrs. Fennel left the dining room at breakfast, Ava whispered, “I’m taking you two to school today, but you’re not going.”
“What?”
“You’ll cut a day and spend it with me. I have a class in nineteenth-century American literature we’ll attend, and then a big break until my biology class. We’ll have lunch in Westwood, just enjoy the day, and you can see what it’s like to be in college, not that it’s anything I want to do much longer,” she added. “Daddy thought I needed more background, whatever that means.”
“That’s great,” I said.
“Just keep your mouth shut about it,” she said, watching the door.
I pretended to zip my lips, and she laughed. Marla, who was straining to hear us whisper, looked annoyed.
“Don’t say it,” she quipped when Ava turned to her. “I know. Be patient.”
We both laughed at that, so loudly that Mrs. Fennel popped in again to see what was happening. We quickly returned to our food. She stood there full of suspicion but then retreated. We smiled at each other. It really felt wonderful to have Ava finally thinking of me as a real sister and the two of us being little conspirators.
Later in the car, when Marla heard I was going to cut school and go with Ava, she pouted. “It’s not fair,” she moaned. “I hate school just as much as Lorelei does.”
“I don’t hate school, Marla.”
“Lorelei will promise here and now to do something similar with you after I’m gone,” Ava told her. It wasn’t enough to satisfy her, but she didn’t moan and groan ab
out it anymore.
Every time Ava talked about her leaving and my stepping into her shoes, I had a creepy feeling in the base of my stomach. It was as if hundreds of little wires inside me had snapped and were pinging. I knew that any night now, she might decide to take me out with her on a monthly hunt. The time after that, she might accompany me, but it would be my job, as Daddy liked to say, to “bring home the bacon.”
I didn’t know if I would be better off knowing the exact night we would go out together on her regular monthly hunt or not. I didn’t ask her about it, and she still hadn’t said anything specific. I tried to put it out of my mind and enjoy my day with her at UCLA. It was a spectacular California morning, with barely a wisp of a cloud violating the sea of light blue. The breeze was cool and refreshing. It carried the sounds of other students’ laughter as they went to and fro on the campus, and the music from nearby car radios.
Maybe it was because of my excitement about being with her and being on a college campus, but everything looked sparkling and fresh. There was a different energy there. The students were buoyant and loose. Perhaps it came from their being on their own. That sense of freedom was infectious. There were bells for classes and rules to follow, of course, but no one was standing in the hallways ready to pounce on them for not wearing something proper or for talking too loudly. The teachers I saw seemed to be just as casual, too. Why wasn’t Ava happier about being there? I would be, and I hoped Daddy would send me to college, too.
“Let’s get this over with,” she said, referring to her class.
“Aren’t you getting anything out of it, enjoying anything?” I asked.
She tilted her head and looked at me askance. “You’re kidding, right?”
I shrugged. Was I missing something? Was I supposed to feel the same way about my education? It was clear to me that I didn’t, but ironically, every difference between myself and Ava only made me feel more insecure, even frightened. Were these differences big enough to cause me to fail Daddy?
“The real school is out there,” she said, nodding toward the street.
“The more you know, the better you’ll be out there,” I said.
“Who told you that? Did Daddy tell you that?” she asked, pouncing on me.
“No. I just thought it was true.”
She smirked. “Get real, Lorelei. Ninety percent of what these people learn and do here has nothing to do with survival, and survival is the only graduation I want to attend.”
Daddy had stressed the importance of survival, too, when we were together on the beach, but wasn’t there more to all of this than just survival? Despite what he had told me, Daddy enjoyed music and art and being with his old friends. What would Ava have after she left us? Where were her old friends? How would she fill her days? What did Brianna have? Was she closer to Ava or to me? I was so tempted to ask her, to continue the conversation, but I just nodded and walked beside her into the building.