The most important thing I learned?
Anastasia turns toward me, her eyebrows raised, her expression a question mark. “Yes?” she finally says when a second has passed and I still haven’t spoken. Her tone is neither friendly nor annoyed.
“Does anyone ever call you the Red Scare? You know, because of your hair.” The most important thing I learned about Anastasia Bowditch is that more than gossip, she loves a good compliment. It is, however, unfortunate that scare and hair happen to rhyme.
Anastasia squints at me, and her lips part. I honestly don’t know what to expect from her at all now because really how would anyone respond to a person they don’t know giving them a nickname about the spread of communism based on their hair color? I thought it would translate, be something she’d find amusing and complimentary, and maybe I’d get points for using a term from this very class, but I was oh so wrong.
“Um. No,” she says. She glances down at the luscious red curls cascading around her. Then she laughs.
Curious. I can’t decide if this is the demeaning kind of laughter like when I told her the faux rumor about Theo or if this is genuine.
“But people should call me that,” she says. She smiles. Thank goodness, thank goodness, thank goodness. “That’s funny. I’m going to tell Theo.”
She turns back to her reading, but I understand the accolade that is telling Theo, because most everyone here would want his approval and to be given credit for saying something deemed clever by Anastasia.
After class, I try again, going for that combination of flattering and funny that Anastasia seems to respond to.
“Where did you get that ring?” I signal to her right hand, the coil of silver around her pointer finger. “That’s the kind of thing you wear when you want to spread your regime.”
She sighs and stares at the piece of jewelry; she doesn’t laugh, like maybe she didn’t get the regime joke.
“Thanks,” she says. “This guy Douglas gave it to me. I like the way it looks, but I don’t like that it reminds me of him.”
“Oh no, why? What happened with him?”
We walk down the hall, and she regales me with the tale of Douglas Begley, the son of her parents’ friends who used to try to get her to make out with him in the bathroom during dinner parties.
“I only sort of liked him,” she explains, very nonchalantly.
We pass through the B wing hall, lined with windows, giving way to a view of the courtyard, and Theo falls into step with us.
“Mr. Guthrie is trying to kill us with boredom, I swear,” he says. He nods at me. “Hi, Collins.”
“That’s right—Collins,” Anastasia says. “I could’ve sworn I knew your name, but then couldn’t remember it to save my life. Don’t you hate that?”
“You’re so rude,” Theo says to her, laughing.
I find myself nodding in agreement with her assessment of forgetfulness even though I also agree with Theo, the rude part being that she didn’t have to tell me I was forgettable to her.
“What?” Anastasia says. “She’s new, and my brain can only retain so much at once. I couldn’t remember her name; so sue me.”
“So sue me? I love when you start using catchphrases that were popular before you were born that you clearly picked up being trapped in Saint-Tropez with your mother for three weeks,” Theo says.
“I do remember that Collins is from the Midwest and that she had to do her overview with Jasper.” Talking like I’m not even standing right here, until suddenly she turns to me. “How was that, by the way?”
My face gets warm. Of course, Theo must’ve told her about how I was staring at Jasper in the cafeteria; how I’d called him mysterious.
“It was … efficient.”
“I’ll bet it was,” she says. Theo elbows her, and any chance he had of being discreet about it is ruined because Anastasia replies with a loud, “Ouch.”
“That reminds me,” she says, wiggling away from Theo. “Are you going to the Labor Day dinner event?”
“Is that not mandatory?” I say.
“Oh yeah, it is for sure if you’re staying here for Labor Day. Sometimes people don’t stay. Especially first years or, like, if you’re new and homesick.”
I take this as a bit of an insult, that she’s implying I can’t even handle a few weeks at Rutherford before hightailing it home. But as the two of them stare at me as we walk, waiting for my answer, I think that maybe this is a test. They’re waiting to see how strong I am.
“I’ll be here,” I say.
I don’t know if Anastasia’s heard me because suddenly she exclaims, “So don’t look now, but Teagan Quinn is desperately hitting on Matt Reiner, over there by his locker. You have to look—but don’t be obvious.”
Matt Reiner is Elena’s friend, the mastermind behind their cafeteria dinner games. I glance as he leans against the wall, chatting with a girl wearing a long braid and a skirt rolled shorter than the Rutherford dress code allows.
“She’s talking to him,” Theo says. “How scandalous.”
“Oh, come on,” Anastasia says. “That was flirting! You saw it, right, Collins?”
I absolutely did not see it—but I don’t want to stage a disagreement with Anastasia yet.
“I thought Matt Reiner was dating Constance Gilbert.” As soon as the words escape my lips, I wonder if this is a secret, something only those at Elena’s table are privy to, and I’ve blown it.
“Is that true?” Theo says. “Or did you get your information from the same person who allegedly told you I was taking steroids?”
I don’t know what to say—whether it’s better to apologize or act naïve. Luckily, Anastasia is not about to be thrown off topic. “They are still dating,” she says, seemingly impressed that I, too, knew about Matt and Constance. “Teagan wants to break them up.”
“That’s not very nice.” I’m so relieved to have good information and that Anastasia is making light of the whole steroids thing. So completely relieved.
“Well, Teagan Quinn is the definition of not very nice.” Anastasia launches into a story about their first year at Rutherford when Teagan tried to steal Anastasia’s then boyfriend, Jacques Delon. “She even tried to steal Theo’s boyfriend once. At the class trip to Stanford—remember?”
“It didn’t work. Surprise, surprise,” Theo says.
“What was his name again?” Anastasia says.
“Ross Vendermine,” Theo says. “He stopped coming here after his first year.”
“That’s right. Didn’t his father’s company defraud the government or something?” Anastasia says.
“I have no idea,” Theo says.
Something about the name Vendermine sounds familiar. Oh yes. “Did his parents own Vendermine Management?”
“You know it?” Anastasia’s eyes widen, and she steps closer to me. I was right after all. Flattery initially got Anastasia’s attention, but having useless information and gossip is what’s hooking her. “Do you know what happened?”
Sort of. “Yeah. Something about asbestos? It was damaging enough that the whole company went under.” I think.