The Darlings in Love Read online

By the time Simon had gotten to her apartment, she was showered and changed, and her mother and Richard had left for a pre-movie dinner. When Simon walked in the door, he looked more gorgeous than ever: untucked white linen shirt, pair of Levis, and green-and-blue Adidas Sambas. Very old school. His hair was wet and hanging in his face a little, and when he said hello, he pushed it off his forehead.

  “It was so sexy!” Jane explained, demonstrating the gesture.

  “Then what happened?” Victoria demanded.

  Jane continued. “Okay, so he pulls his script out and he goes, ‘Work first, play later?’ And I go, ‘Totally,’ and then we went into the den and we started reading the scene. We weren’t blocking it, but we were kind of moving around in character.”

  “I have no idea what that means, and I don’t even care,” said Victoria, gesturing for Jane to keep telling.

  “And it turns out he’s a really good actor.” Jane paused, trying to find the words to refine her description of his talents. “He’s…it’s like he gets into the character through these tiny gestures. Like, Jason’s a warrior, so he had this way of standing…” Jane tried to imitate Simon’s Jason stance, then shook her head. “Whatever. The point is, when you act opposite someone who’s good, it makes you better, so I’m acting really well.” She smiled at her friends. “If I do say so myself.”

  “Say it!” laughed Natalya.

  “Say anything,” urged Victoria. “Just get on with the story.”

  Jane laughed with excitement. “So we run through it a bunch of times, and then it’s like, okay, we can’t do the scene again, so what should we do?” She gave Natalya and Victoria a significant look. “So we were like, let’s see what’s on TV, and we go into the den and The Philadelphia Story’s on, and we’re both like, ‘Oh my god, I love this movie!’”

  “Which one is The Philadelphia Story?” asked Natalya.

  “It’s the one where—” Jane began, but Victoria interrupted her.

  “It’s the one where nobody cares what happened because they want to get back to the story of the night!”

  Even Jane was impressed by Victoria’s eagerness. With a nod of appreciation, she returned to her narrative.

  “Okay, so we sit down on the couch next to each other, and we’re really close, and after a few minutes I’m like, ‘Hey, you want a back rub?’”

  “Oh my god,” Natalya breathed.

  “I know,” said Jane, nodding to acknowledge her own awesome boldness. “And he goes, ‘Sure,’ so I got up on the back of the couch and started rubbing his shoulders.

  “Meanwhile, he has the best back,” she informed them, holding her hands roughly shoulder-width apart to illustrate it. “Really strong and muscular.” Closing her eyes at the memory of touching Simon, she continued.

  “So I rubbed his back for a while, and then I go, ‘My turn,’ and we switched. He gave a really good back rub too. Not too soft, not too hard.”

  Victoria nodded to show that she knew what Jane meant. “I can imagine,” Natalya assured her friends, and Jane continued.

  “Then after a while he stops, and we’re just watching the movie, and we’re sitting, like, really close and…” She hesitated.

  “And…?” Natalya prompted.

  Jane made a face. “This is the only bad part.”

  Natalya and Victoria looked at her anxiously but didn’t say anything. Jane toyed with her necklace as she continued.

  “Okay, then he goes, ‘Look, I have to tell you something.’ And I said”—she batted her eyelashes flirtatiously—“‘Is it that you think I’m fabulous?’”

  Even though Natalya and Victoria laughed, Jane didn’t crack a smile. “So then he goes, ‘I do think you’re fabulous, but that’s not what I have to tell you.’” For the first time since she’d gotten to Act Two, Jane hesitated.

  “Oh my god, what’d he say?” asked Victoria nervously.

  Jane sighed. “He said, ‘Remember when I said I was seriously in like with someone?’ and I said, ‘Yeah.’ And he said…” Again Jane paused, but this time neither Natalya nor Victoria spoke. After a second, Jane finished Simon’s sentence. “‘The person I was seriously in like with was a guy.’”

  There was a long silence.

  A really long silence.

  Finally, Natalya said, “I don’t get it. Are you saying…I mean, is Simon gay?”

  “No!” Jane snapped. Then she quickly added, “Sorry. It’s…no. He’s not gay. He just, you know, he had a crush on a guy once. Which is kind of cool, when you think about it.”

  “You mean because…” Victoria began, but she didn’t finish her sentence.

  Jane finished it for her. “Because it means he’s, you know, totally open-minded and not homophobic or anything.”

  “That’s true,” Victoria agreed. “That’s a good point.”

  “And he just thought he liked the guy,” Jane explained. She looked from Natalya to Victoria.

  “Oh!” Natalya said suddenly. “Remember when you liked Oscar Warner?”

  Jane groaned at the memory. “Eeeew. He kept wanting to hold hands at that stupid Batman movie we went to. I was so grossed out.” She shook her hand frantically as if she could still feel Oscar’s sweaty palm against it. “Why are we even talking about him?”

  “Because he is the perfect example!” explained Victoria. “You can think you like someone until he’s grabbing you with his sweaty hands, and then…” She scissored her hands in front of her. “No, thank you, mister.”

  Now that she understood the point of her friend’s story, Jane looked relieved. “Exactly. I think Simon’s thing was like that.” She shrugged. “Nothing ever even happened between them. He just kind of wanted me to know. You know, about his history. And I told him what happened with Mr. Robbins.”

  Natalya gasped.

  “You did?” Victoria was amazed. Jane hadn’t even told her mom about Mr. Robbins, and she and her mother were super close.

  Jane nodded. “It was totally the right thing to do. I mean, he’d told me such a big secret. It didn’t feel right not telling one back. He was really cool about it too. He said it wasn’t a big deal and I shouldn’t be embarrassed. He said it probably happened to Mr. Robbins all the time.”

  “I never thought of that,” said Natalya, considering what Simon had said. “It makes sense, though.”

  Victoria agreed. “Especially since he’s so young and cute and flirtatious and everything.”

  Jane nodded. “Totally.” Then she smiled. “Anyway, then we just…hung out and kind of channel surfed. And you know, he, like, had his arm around me, and for a while he had his head in my lap.” She sighed contentedly at the memory. “Basically,” she concluded, stretching her arms up over her head, “it was the perfect night.”

  “Wow,” said Victoria.

  Suddenly, Natalya thought of something. “Did you kiss?”

  “Mmmhmmm.” Jane smiled and shivered slightly. “When he left.” She closed her eyes and tilted her face up ever so slightly. “Really, really gently.” She sighed again. “It was amazing.”

  “That is so romantic,” Victoria said dreamily.

  “I know,” agreed Jane. She giggled. “Now you may have an awesome dress”—she pointed at Natalya—“but Vicks and I still have to pick out equally awesome dresses for the opening, because I totally invited Simon to be my date!”

  “You what?” asked Victoria.

  “You did ?” cried Natalya.

  “Yes.” Jane took Natalya firmly by the shoulders. “Which is why you have got to ask Colin to be your date today.” She stared deeply into Natalya’s eyes, then added, “Sorry I never got back to you about what to wear, by the way.”

  Natalya blanched. “I can’t ask him to be my date. I mean, how would I do that?”

  Jane gave Natalya a look that said, Are you for real? “How about, ‘Hey, Colin, it’s been great playing chess with you. Do you want to come to this cool art opening?’”

  “Ha-ha,” said Natalya, not laughi
ng.

  “It’ll be easy,” Jane promised. “You’ll just lead the conversation around to the opening. You know, blah, blah, blah Barnard, blah, blah, blah art. Except make the whole night sound amazing—which it will be—and he’ll basically ask you to ask him.”

  “Guys, I’m not the, you know, leading-the-conversationaround-to-it type.” Natalya’s face was turning pale. “Besides, it’s not like he’s my boyfriend. We’re just friends.”

  “Oh, please!” Jane snorted.

  Remembering their earlier conversation, Victoria put a sympathetic arm around Natalya. “If it feels right, you’ll ask him. But don’t worry about it or anything. Just have fun.”

  Jane opened her mouth to say something, but Victoria gave her a stern look, and Jane held up her hands in mock defeat. “Okay, okay.” Half to herself, she mumbled, “If you want him to already have plans that night like Jack does, there’s nothing I can do about it.”

  “I heard that!” growled Natalya.

  “Jane.” There was a warning in Victoria’s voice.

  Jane crossed her arms and leveled a look at Natalya and Victoria. “Can I just say one thing?”

  “No!” said Victoria.

  “Fine,” said Natalya at the same time.

  Jane chose to hear Natalya. “Was I right about the text?”

  Natalya nodded reluctantly.

  “And I’m right about this. Trust me.” She clapped her hands together for punctuation.

  “Trusting you is what got me into this mess,” said Natalya, smiling ruefully as she remembered the original e-mail she’d sent to Colin at Jane’s urging.

  Jane laughed. “Just put your life in my hands, okay, darling? I promise, everything will work out perfectly.” She slipped her arm around Natalya’s waist and squeezed her, and the three friends went to pick out two more awesome dresses.

  CONSIDERING IT WAS once again freezing out, Natalya wasn’t exactly surprised that Washington Square Park was practically deserted. As she picked her way carefully around ice patches, she wondered why neither she nor Colin had suggested meeting indoors for their rematch. What if he’d woken up this morning, gotten dressed, stepped outside, and decided it was way too cold to head downtown and spend a couple of hours freezing his butt off with only Natalya for company?

  Just as she was about to check her phone to see if Colin had sent her a text asking to reschedule (or, even worse, simply canceling), she saw, from across the park, that he was already there, waiting for her, the collar of his coat up, a black wool cap pulled down over his ears. The sight of him made her feel all wiggly, like a marionette being worked by an uncoordinated puppeteer.

  He was here. He hadn’t canceled.

  It was a freezing cold day, and he was sitting outside.

  Waiting for her.

  Without Natalya’s calling to him, he looked up as if he’d sensed her coming, and she felt another flush of warmth at the smile that split his face when he saw her.

  “I can’t believe I agreed to meet you here!” he yelled, over the dozen yards between them.

  The sound of his voice made her feel more normal, less freaked out. Laughing, she called back, “Hey, who agreed to meet who?”

  She made her way over to the table, and he shook his head sadly at her. “It’s who agreed to meet whom,” he corrected her. “You know, considering how much it costs, that Gainsford place really gives you a crap education.”

  Still laughing, she answered, “It’s not costing me anything. I’m on scholarship.”

  As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Natalya wished them back in. Why had she revealed that? She’d never told anyone connected to Gainsford that she was there on a full scholarship. Not even Jordan knew.

  She sat down at the stone table without meeting his eyes, shocked at what a stupid move she’d just made.

  Colin didn’t answer, and she was sure he was embarrassed. Was he going to apologize? That would be the worst. Wow,

  Natalya, I didn’t know you were poor. I’m really sorry.

  “Full scholarship, you say?” he asked.

  Hesitantly, she raised her eyes. Then she gave a slight jerky nod.

  Colin cocked his head to the side and gave her a wicked smile. “Well, in that case, I guess you’re getting your money’s worth.”

  Natalya burst out laughing. Colin did too, but then he said, “I don’t know what we’re laughing about.”

  Everything, Natalya wanted to say, but she just shook her head. “I don’t know. Just…how crazy it is to be sitting here in the freezing cold.”

  Colin arched an eyebrow at her. “It sounds almost like you’re scared to play me.”

  “I just meant we should have met inside somewhere,” Natalya explained, reaching out with the arm of her parka and wiping off the light dusting of snow that coated the table. “Besides, I beat you last time we played. Why would I be scared of a rematch?”

  “Because,” explained Colin, wiping off the other half of the board with his own sleeve, “you know you got lucky and you don’t want to risk the humiliation of my defeating you. Which”—he reached into his pockets, then held both of his gloved fists toward her, inviting her to tap either white or black—“is about to happen.”

  An hour later, Colin spoke the word Natalya hated to hear more than anything in the world.

  “Checkmate.” Colin did not even try to hide the triumph in his voice. They both knew he’d played a brilliant game. Natalya, on the other hand, had made a couple of foolish moves from which she’d never recovered.

  “You don’t have to gloat.” She sat back against the bench and glared at Colin. Natalya’s father, who had taught her chess, had always warned her against being a sore loser, but she could never entirely hide the prickle of irritation she felt at being defeated, especially when she’d played so badly.

  “Who’s gloating?” asked Colin, but the smile that spread wider and wider across his face seemed to have a life of its own.

  “You are.”

  “Am not.”

  “Are too.”

  Colin raised an eyebrow at her. “Well, you’re pouting.”

  “Am not.”

  “Are too.”

  “Am not.” By now they were both smiling.

  Colin began collecting the pieces from the table, then noticed something. “Hey. It’s snowing.”

  It really was. The stone table they’d been playing on was covered with a light speckling of fresh snow, and when Natalya looked at her arm, she realized she was too.

  “We should probably go,” Colin said.

  Natalya stood up as her heart inexplicably sank. Did he mean we should probably go our own ways, or did he mean we should probably go somewhere together?

  But he didn’t follow up his “we should probably go” with, “well, bye,” so Natalya thought it would be okay to walk with him. They left the park, and when Colin crossed Fourth Street and headed north on Fifth Avenue, so did Natalya. Picking her way carefully along the sidewalk, which was narrow and uneven with badly shoveled snow, Natalya wondered if at any second Colin was going to ask her why she was following him. She couldn’t help wishing her father were right: that life really was like chess, that it came in a box with the rules clearly printed on the inside cover, illustrated with attractive, helpful diagrams in black and white, that your opponent’s motivations were clear and obvious, and that you could always tell who was winning.

  “Just so you know,” Colin said, interrupting her fantasy of a world as transparent as a chess game, “I do not think less of you for having lost to me.”

  Natalya laughed. It was snowing harder now, the flakes falling thick and fast around them. Something about the snow made her feel protected, like even though she and Colin were walking side by side, there was a veil between them. A veil behind which she could dare to be the type of person who might bring the conversation around to a certain art opening.

  “Do you like art?” she asked, realizing once the question was out of her mouth how random
it sounded.

  “Do I like art?” Colin repeated thoughtfully. “Not performance art.”

  “How about painting art?”

  Though they weren’t facing each other, Natalya could see out of the corner of her eye that his mouth was turning up into a grin. “And by painting art, you mean paintings, right?”

  She frowned and pressed her index finger to her lips as if deep in thought. “What was that word you liked so much…? Oh, right, pedantic!”

  He laughed, and Natalya could practically hear the comment Jane would make when Natalya retold the story. You guys have a private joke! He is sooooo into you.

  “Anyway,” Natalya continued, giving a mock long-suffering sigh. Thinking of Jane’s encouragement gave her confidence. “I’m going to an art opening in a few weeks—a painting opening—and I was wondering if you want to go.”

  “Sounds great,” said Colin casually, like there was nothing weird about Natalya’s asking him out.

  Score for Jane!

  They’d reached the corner of Fifth Avenue and Eighth Street, and Colin turned to face her. “Well, this has been awesome.” He pointed his thumb over his shoulder. “But I gotta take off. So when’s this painting-art event of yours?”

  Too excited that he was coming to the opening to mind that their afternoon together was suddenly over, Natalya told him the date of the show.

  He winced. “Damn, I can’t come. I’ve got a birthday party that night.”

  Natalya’s happiness evaporated, and she felt overwhelmed by embarrassment. How stupid had she been to ask him in the first place? He’d probably just been too taken aback by the invitation to think of a lie right away for why he couldn’t go. Then he’d come up with the birthday party excuse and given it to her.

  It was her embarrassment that made her ask, “Whose birthday party?” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she heard how accusatory they sounded, and she was even more embarrassed.

  Colin’s expression indicated he also thought it was a little weird that she was grilling him, but he answered simply, “Alison Jones.”

  “Wait, Alison Jones? Gainsford’s Alison Jones?” Natalya blurted out, amazed by the coincidence. When she’d gotten Alison’s invitation yesterday, she’d been bummed to see that her birthday party was on the same night as Nana’s opening. But now she was glad about the conflict. If the Alison Jones he was talking about was the same one Natalya knew, that meant Colin really did have a birthday party the night of the opening. Which meant he really had wanted to go with her.