Gilda Joyce: The Ladies of the Lake (28 page)
Read Gilda Joyce: The Ladies of the Lake Online
Authors: Jennifer Allison
“Kind of.” Gilda decided not to reveal the fact that she and Wendy Choy had spied on a Ladies of the Lake meeting.
Danielle began tearing her packets of Sweet’N Low into little pieces. “Gilda, I feel so much better now that I’ve been able to share what really happened with you. I know it’s kind of weird for me to be sitting here telling my problems to a freshman.”
“What’s so weird about it?”
“Nothing. You just seem so much more mature than the rest of the freshman class.”
Gilda wished her classmates had been around to hear that comment.
“Maybe it’s because of your psychic abilities or something,” Danielle added.
A tiny voice in Gilda’s head protested that this might be sheer flattery.
She might be manipulating you
. Gilda decided to ignore the voice. Finally, someone appreciated her psychic abilities!
“Keeping this thing a secret has just been so tough to deal with,” Danielle continued. “Half the time, I can’t even sleep at night.” She lowered her voice and leaned forward confidentially. “And—just between you and me—I don’t even really
like
Nikki and Priscilla anymore, but the three of us are stuck together like this horrible dysfunctional family. I guess Nikki still idolizes Priscilla, but the only thing we really have in common anymore is this horrible secret about something that happened three years ago.” Danielle pushed pink shreds of paper into a little pile that resembled wood shavings in a gerbil cage. “You must think I’m a terrible person,” she added, a bit coyly.
Gilda wasn’t sure what to say. Danielle seemed to be two different people: the girl who had participated in a mean game three years ago, and the distraught girl who now sat in front of her tearing Sweet’N Low packets into bits. For some reason, Gilda wanted to say something that would make her feel better. “You were just a kid back then, right?”
“
You’re
a freshman right now, and I bet you’d never do anything like that.”
Gilda secretly agreed, if only because she would have found Priscilla’s rules too annoying to cooperate with. On the other hand, she was aware that you never knew what you
might
do, given the opportunity. Years ago, she and Wendy had scared a scrawny girl named Debbie by threatening to prick her with a safety pin that would give her “a magic fat injection.” When Debbie burst into tears, they had taken sadistic delight in the fact that she had believed the absurd threat. It was hard not to want to repeat the episode during recess the next day even though they knew it was wrong.
“You never know,” said Gilda. “Give me half a chance, and I might dunk someone in Mermaid Lake tomorrow.” Her hand shook as she took another gulp of her extra-strong coffee. She felt jumpy.
“We
didn’t
dunk her in the lake!”
“Oh. Right.” Gilda remembered how Danielle had called her from Mrs. Lambert’s house pretending to be a ghost.
The same girl who said “You will drown in the lake” is sitting right across from you
. Still, Gilda couldn’t quite get over the fact that she was out having coffee with a popular senior. She kept hoping that someone she knew would walk into the cafe.
Danielle sighed. “I’m so stressed out.”
“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Gilda ventured, “but have you ever considered telling anyone about what happened?”
“I just explained everything to you, didn’t I?”
“I mean, have you ever thought about telling Mrs. McCracken—or someone like that?”
Danielle blinked very quickly. “It’s impossible.”
“I just thought you might feel better.”
Danielle shook her head. “It would kill my parents.” She blew her nose into a napkin. Her eyes looked small and red. “I just found out that I got into Georgetown University.”
Gilda wondered why Danielle conveyed this news as if she were explaining that she had just contracted a very serious disease. “So I guess you got that college essay written after all, huh?”
“My parents are so thrilled, and if the story about what we did to Dolores three years ago came out now, I could get expelled or, who knows, maybe go to jail….” Danielle’s face contorted with silent tears. “It would just be so disappointing and
awful
for everyone!”
Gilda noticed two boys waving at Danielle. “Hey! Danielle!” They smiled as they picked up their drinks from the counter.
Quickly wiping her eyes with a napkin, Danielle composed herself. “Oh, hey,” she said, greeting them with a weak smile as they approached the table. “What are you guys doing in Ferndale?”
“Getting coffee. What are you doing here?”
“Oh, just talking about the school paper.”
Both boys were tall with longish hair that hung in their eyes with a kind of calculated messiness. Gilda recognized Nikki’s boyfriend, Dinkel, from the Halloween dance.
The boys stood awkwardly, not sure whether to simply say hello and get their own table, or pull up chairs to join the girls. Then Dinkel noticed Danielle’s red eyes. “Hey, what’s wrong? Have you been crying or something?”
Danielle shook her head and waved her hand dismissively. “It’s nothing.”
“Boy problems?”
“Hardly.”
“Come on. You can tell us.”
“She doesn’t like her latte,” said Gilda.
The boys seemed to notice Gilda for the first time. “She doesn’t like her
latte
? How bad can it be?” Dinkel picked it up and took a sip. “Oh, that is bad. What’s in here, like twenty packets of sugar or something?”
“Sweet’N Low.”
“I can see why you’re crying.”
“I told her not to drink it,” said Gilda, wanting the boys to pay more attention to her.
“She
shouldn’t
drink it.”
“I’m Gilda.” Gilda extended her hand, deciding that she might as well introduce herself if Danielle wasn’t going to.
“Sorry,” said Danielle. “Gilda, these are my friends Dinkel and Shane.”
“We’re interchangeable,” said Shane. “It doesn’t matter which is which.”
“You’re Dinkel, right?” said Gilda, pointing to Nikki’s boyfriend.
“How do you know? Have we met?”
“She’s psychic,” said Danielle.
“Psychic, huh?” Dinkel pulled up a chair, and Shane followed suit. “So tell me what number I’m thinking of right now.”
“Fifty-seven.”
“Totally wrong. I was thinking of the color blue.” He eyed her blue sweater.
Wendy was right
, Gilda thought.
These boys are totally cute
. She wasn’t sure whether it was the espresso or the prospect of actually having a conversation with older boys that was making her feel jittery. She giggled a little too loudly and accidentally knocked over the remains of her coffee.
“Looks like someone’s overcaffeinated,” said Dinkel.
“Did I tell you guys that I got into Georgetown on early admission?” Danielle said.
Dinkel and Shane looked dumbstruck. “You got into Georgetown?”
“Right.”
“And you’re crying,” said Shane. “Boo-hoo! I got into Harvard and Yale! Waaa!”
“And—and Shane, that’s not even the
worst
part,” Dinkel added with mock earnestness. “My latte is just too
sweet
!”
“Oh, shut up.”
“Well, congratulations,” said Shane.
“Thanks.”
“Some people have all the luck. How about you, Gilda? Have you done your applications yet?”
Was he kidding, or did he really think she might be old enough to apply to college? “I’m probably going to Oxford,” she said.
“Gilda is a freshman,” Danielle interjected.
“A freshman?! No wonder she looks young.”
“In fact, it’s dinnertime, so I should probably be giving her a ride home about now. Right, Gilda?”
“It’s okay,” said Gilda. “I usually stay out as late as possible.”
“Well,
I
should be getting home,” said Danielle. “We’ll catch you guys later, okay?”
“We can take a hint,” said Shane.
“Nice meeting you,” said Gilda.
“Good luck with your applications to Oxford.”
Gilda thought she heard sniggering as she left, but decided to ignore it.
“Thanks for listening to all my worries,” said Danielle, dropping Gilda off in front of her house. “I know this goes without saying, but I can trust you with this, right?”
“Sure.”
She means I’d better not tell anyone
, Gilda thought, opening the car door.
“Oh, and Gilda, do you have the notes I gave you about the Ladies of the Lake? I kind of need to get those back.”
The notes were stashed under Gilda’s pillow.
The notes are the only hard evidence I have to prove what they did
, Gilda thought, remembering with an uneasy feeling the psychic investigation she now felt half ready to ditch. “I’ll bring them to school.”
“Don’t forget, okay? Priscilla will kill me if those get into the wrong hands.”
At the mention of Priscilla’s name, Gilda hesitated. “Danielle,” she said, “did you know that Nikki and Priscilla followed me home on the bus today?”
“They
did
?”
“They were acting a little thuggish.”
“Sluggish?”
“
Thuggish
. Mean and threatening.”
Danielle rolled her eyes. “They are so dumb sometimes. Believe me, Gilda, you don’t have any reason to be scared of them.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’ll set them straight. Nikki and Priscilla thought you were trying to get us in trouble with your play and everything, but they didn’t realize that you just can’t
help
knowing things because you’re psychic, right?” Danielle looked at Gilda imploringly “I promise I’ll talk to them, okay?”
Danielle had a sad, unconventionally pretty face that reminded Gilda of paintings of the Madonna. A kind face. How could she possibly be a criminal?
“Okay,” said Gilda. “Don’t worry, Danielle; you can trust me.”
Dear Dad,
I had the best day ever at school, but now I feel rotten about it.
I was on my way to the dining hall when Danielle came up to me and asked if I wanted to come with her to Starbucks.
I said yes, of course.
“Nikki and Priscilla are going, too.”
“Oh.”
“Don’t worry; I talked to them and explained everything, and now they feel bad about being mean on the bus.”
Freshmen aren’t supposed to leave campus at all, so the opportunity to sneak away for a coffee break with the Ladies of the Lake was a major violation and way too exciting to pass up. I told myself I would be observing them undercover.
At Starbucks, I ordered a triple espresso (a “Trippio”!), and you would have thought the four of us were best friends. I mean, they kept telling me how they would never risk taking any of the other freshmen out for coffee, but I was “old for my age,” so I could handle it.
They also didn’t seem to care that I was listening to all their gossip.
I learned that Priscilla can’t stand her stepfather (she calls him “Tom”) because he bosses her around all the time.
“All Tom does is criticize me and eavesdrop on my phone conversations,” she said. “And he gives me the creeps; he’s always looking at my boobs.”
“That is so messed up,” said Danielle.
“Oh, I forgot,” said Priscilla. “Danielle is easily offended because she has the perfect family.”
“Who said I have a perfect family?”
“You did,” said Priscilla. “You’re always implying it.”
“Play nice, you two!” said Nikki. “Geez, you’d think you’d both be a better example to the youngster here.” She poked a thumb in my direction.
“I don’t mind,” I said, wishing Nikki hadn’t interrupted the conversation. “I love a good fight.”
“We weren’t fighting,” said Danielle.
“Well, my mom’s boyfriend drives me crazy, too,” I said, hoping to get Priscilla to reveal more about herself. I told them how Brad makes greasy kielbasa dinners and then sits on the couch for hours, playing video games. I told them about his books with titles like
GO! GO! GO
! and
Shut Up and Find Success
!
Priscilla said she could totally relate to my situation. It’s pretty interesting to discover that she and I actually have
something
in common (although, to be honest, Priscilla’s stepfather makes Brad seem okay by comparison).
In fact, the more time I spent around Priscilla, the more I could understand how the Ladies of the Lake wanted to follow all her rules she made up back when they were freshmen. There’s just something about her that makes you want her to like you even though you know very well that she was
mean to you just the other day. If she had turned to me and said, “Hey, Gilda, could you do me a favor and bury that dead tarantula over there?” I actually might have done it.
Danielle complained that Shane keeps calling her even though she doesn’t like him anymore. I guess they used to go out.
“But he’s so cute!” Nikki said.
I agreed with Nikki. “He can give ME a call anytime,” I said. This made them laugh for some reason.
They asked if I had a boyfriend, and I made up something about “a boyfriend at camp over the summer” and how we still write each other. “He lives in Ohio, so we don’t get to see each other much,” I said. “We’re open to dating other people.”
You would think this would be the end of the conversation, but instead they asked about a million questions. “What’s his name?” “Is he cute?” “Does your mom like him?” “How did you meet?” “What was your first kiss like?” “When are you going to go visit him?” Consequently, I was forced to invent a long-distance boyfriend named Huey, who’s six feet tall, plays on the varsity basketball team, and lives on a farm so he doesn’t have much time for phone
conversations. “He slobbers a lot every time he kisses me,” I said, “but he always has minty-fresh breath.” I also told them that Huey drives a pickup truck that breaks down all the time, and that’s why he can’t come all the way up to Michigan to visit very often.
“Hey, we should take you to visit Huey!” Nikki exclaimed.
“I’m thinking of breaking up with him,” I said quickly. (As you can imagine, I was desperate to get off the subject of nonexistent Huey.) “In his letters, he’s been talking about ‘separating the hogs with fever,’ and I’m kind of afraid I’m going to catch something from him if we keep going out.”
This finally shut them up, and they stopped trying to get me to marry old farm-boy Huey.
“I bet we can find you a guy,” said Priscilla. “Doesn’t Dinkel have a younger brother, Nikki?”
“But he’s only in sixth grade.”
“Well, Gilda is the coolest girl in the freshman class, so she’s probably going to have loads of boyfriends, right?”
As you can imagine, the combination of this compliment and my caffeine buzz kept me flying high for the rest of the afternoon.
And as if this weren’t enough, Priscilla and Nikki gave me a ride home from school. As we drove past the bus stop, I saw those poor scholarship girls standing there waiting for the bus, and I thought how that used to be me just the day before. It was so much nicer sitting up in Nikki’s car, where everything is newly upholstered. I admit it: at that moment, I really didn’t care about the Ladies of the Lake or Dolores Lambert or anything. Why bother with the hard, lonely life of a psychic investigator when I could be living the good life with the Ladies of the Lake?
Then I got home and made the mistake of calling Wendy to tell her about my amazing day.
“They’re obviously manipulating you,” she said. “They don’t want you to tell the headmistress what you know.”
“It
started
that way,” I said, “but you should have seen how much fun we were having together, Wendy. I know it sounds like I’m bragging, but I think they honestly believe I’m the coolest girl in the freshman class!”
“As long as you don’t
tell
on them, you’re the coolest girl.”
“Wendy, I’ve never thought of you as the jealous type before.”
“And I’ve never thought of you as a sellout.”
“Start thinking of me as a sellout who’ll be going out with some of the best-looking guys in the metro Detroit area.”
“Omigod, I never knew you could be this gullible.”
“I’m just trying to enjoy my life for once.”
“I thought you were better than that.”
“Well, I’m not.”
“Call me when you figure out where you misplaced your ethics.”
Then Wendy had to go because Terrence was spraying the cat with a squirt gun.
Now, after talking to Wendy, my perfect day is ruined. She’s obviously jealous that a group of seniors are paying so much attention to me.
On the other hand, I have to admit it’s pretty suspicious that they’re being so nice. After all, if they accept me as part of their popular group, I’ll have less incentive to turn them in.
Danielle trusts me now; she’s stopped asking me to return the minutes of the
Ladies of the Lake. (I keep “forgetting” to bring the incriminating evidence to school.)
Maybe Wendy is right. Maybe Danielle is being very strategic. It’s a good strategy because it’s working. The truth is, it feels good to be part of their group.
