The Diamonds (34 page)

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Authors: Ted Michael

BOOK: The Diamonds
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I couldn't, though. Not yet. Even though the idea
frightened me more than anything, there was someone I had to speak with first. “Listen, I've gotta hang up.”

“Where are you going?”

“To see Clarissa.”

“I figured,” he said. “Let me know what happens.”

Clarissa's house was just as I'd remembered it. Her mother let me in (either she didn't know we were fighting, or she was too sloshed to care) and I crept up the stairs to Clarissa's room, my feet silent on the black carpet.

I knocked twice on her door.

“What, Mom?” Clarissa said from inside. “I told you I was—”

The door opened, and she was obviously shocked to see me. I couldn't blame her. I wouldn't exactly like opening
my
bedroom door and finding Clarissa on the other side.

“Oh
God,”
she said, one hand still on the door-knob, the other holding a cordless phone. “What on earth are
you
doing here?”

“I came to talk.” I was wearing a fleece jacket, and I played awkwardly with the zipper.

“I'm on the phone,” she said, “and besides, I don't want to speak to you. Ever. So you can go away now.”

Clarissa started to close her door, but I pushed it open. “We
really
need to chat. It's important.”

I knew that Clarissa's curiosity would get the best of her. “I have to go,” she said into the receiver. “Call
you back in five.” Clarissa tossed the phone onto her bed and crossed her arms.

Once I had her attention, I wasn't sure where to start. “There's a lot we need to discuss.”

Clarissa batted her eyes. “Like?”

Just say it, Marni
. “Like Anderson.”

“What about him?”

“Well, uh … I—”

“If you're here to tell me that you hooked up with him behind my back this summer, save your breath. I already know. Obviously.”

I exhaled until my lungs felt completely empty. “I'm so sorry, Clarissa.”

Her face was blank. Her eyes were flat. I had no idea what she was thinking.

“I really am. But that doesn't excuse—”

“That's enough,” she said. “I'm not interested in having this conversation with you.”

“What you're doing at school is
out
of
control
, Clarissa. I know I hurt your feelings and you have every right in the world to hate me for that, but it has nothing to do with anyone else.” I searched her expression for something, anything familiar. “Haven't I been punished enough? Aren't you ready to end this?”

Clarissa looked at me with the most disgust anyone in my entire life has ever shown me. “No. You can go now.”

But I wasn't finished. “You're not exactly innocent, Clarissa. You basically forced Jed to dump me in front
of the entire school. You pretended you were
helping
me when it was all your fault to begin with!”

“My fault? It's not
my
fault he likes to hang out around trash,” Clarissa said, rolling her eyes.

“Who even knows what sort of sick arrangement you have with Anderson,” I said. “Has this all been one huge joke to you?”

“I'm not the one who hooked up with my best friend's boyfriend, Marni,” Clarissa spat. “That title belongs to you. You've earned it.” She blinked and for a moment looked on the verge of tears. “Do you have any idea how much you hurt me?”

Yes
, I thought.
I do
.

“And to top it all off, I had to hear it from Anderson. Not you. I kept waiting and waiting for you to say something but you never did. That's what the whole Jed ordeal was about. I wanted you to know what it felt like to have someone you love betray you.

“I was even ready to forgive and forget after that. But when I caught you and Anderson at Ryan's party,” Clarissa said, shaking her head, “that was it. I never wanted to see you again. Or Anderson. But then, just like he did before, Anderson came to me right before the fashion show and repented.” She considered me carefully, like a difficult question on a multiple-choice exam. “He practically
begged
me to take him back, and told me all about your little …
club
. It was sort of pathetic, actually,” she said, “but I did, as long as he kept up his charade with you. I mean, he's gorgeous.”

“You're so quick to forgive Anderson when
he
made the same mistakes I did!”

“I
broke up
with him, Marni.”

“But you didn't ruin his life,” I said. “That punishment was reserved solely for me.”

Clarissa laughed. “When I break up with a guy, it
does
ruin his life. You of all people should know that.”

There was no point in continuing this back-and-forth. I wasn't sure the details even mattered anymore. “When I hooked up with Anderson over the summer, it was a mistake. I never meant to hurt you,” I said. “But you crafted this, like, horrific
master plan
of cruelty against me, Clarissa. When is it going to end?” My throat felt incredibly dry. My tongue stuck to the in-sides of my cheeks and the roof of my mouth. “Do you really hate me that much?”

Clarissa ran her fingers through her hair and sighed. It was something I'd seen her do a million times before. For some reason, this time I was able to look past her glean and shine and see her for who she truly was—a Diamond. Translucent. Cold. Without feeling.

Something I would never, ever be.

I left her room without an answer that night, but deep down I knew what she would have said. Mostly I was relieved, but a little bit it broke my heart.

Any rights unmentioned in the Diamond Rules, and not prohibited by the Bennington School or the State of New York, must be fought for with passion.

The Diamond Rules

 

 

At most high schools, pep rallies are a big deal. At Bennington, they're monumental.

People went nuts. I'm talking paint-your-face, shout-at-the-top-of-your-lungs, don't-wear-any-underwear
insane
. It was tradition for the popular senior boys—the ones who weren't athletes—to sit at the very top of the bleachers, spell “Bennington” on their chests in blue and white, and flash the crowd whenever anyone said, well, “Bennington.”

Very classy, I assure you.

This was my first year
participating
in the rally instead of watching it with Clarissa and the Diamonds from our usual spot (on the right, near the basketball hoop). Members of the Snow Court were seated in a semicircle facing the crowd of students on both sides of the gymnasium. There was a podium with a microphone where the
MC of the rally—usually one of the teachers—would call people, such as Principal Newman and Coach Brown, up to speak. This was also where the members of the Court would introduce themselves and say some-thing nice about the school. The actual announcement of king and queen would be at the dance.

Now, I don't want to ruin the surprise by telling you prematurely what was about to go down, but it was pretty brilliant. And I'm not just saying that because it was 75 percent my idea.

Truth: the disbanding of the Stonecutters was a ruse to fool Anderson. Afterward, they were all contacted one by one, their help enlisted for the day's ultimate coup. I couldn't do it without them.

My speech would be different from anything any-one at Bennington had ever heard before. Whoever had rallied for me to get my spot on the Court—I still hadn't figured it out—would be sorely disappointed by my display of public
dis
affection.

Unsurprisingly, our pep rally was being helmed by Mr. Townsen. As we stood, waiting to be ushered to our prime seats, he lectured us about proper conduct: things that were appropriate (“I love Bennington!”) and
in
appropriate (“Bennington sucks my [insert private part here]!”) to say. In some bizarre twist of fate, I would be the last one to speak, and my seat—which was unchangeable; I'd asked—was right next to Clarissa.

Priya, Lili, and Clarissa stood close together, as if
a plane had dropped them off in the middle of a leper colony and they were trying their best to avoid infection. Lili was dressed simply, hair down, very little makeup. Priya looked as if she were competing for Miss Teen USA, in a puffy red number that was corset-tight around her waist and billowed out like an upside-down parachute at the bottom.

Clarissa, of course, was perfection. She was wearing a champagne dress passed down from her sisters. It had become a sort of good-luck charm and had been sitting in a garment bag in Clarissa's closet for the past two years. Her hair was in a French braid, tiny roses (white) woven inside.

Arlene was crouched next to them in a corduroy skirt and a white sweater. “You look beautiful, Clarissa,” she said, spritzing perfume on the soon-to-be Queen's neck.

“I know.” Clarissa wafted her hands in the air. “That's enough, Arlene. Go get me a bottle of Evian.”

“But they only have Poland Spring in the cafeteria.”

Clarissa shot Arlene a look of death. “I don't care if you have to climb the French Alps
yourself
, Arlene. I want a bottle of Evian.”

“O-okay, Clarissa,” Arlene said, shaking. “Sure thing.”

“I appreciate you.”

“Well, that's about it,” said Mr. Townsen, straightening his tie and checking his watch. All the boys except Jed were on the basketball team, so they would make their entrance separately. “Everyone ready?”

“Marni's
always
ready,” Clarissa said.

Priya looked confused. “Because she's, like, a slut?”

Clarissa smiled venomously in my direction. “Exactly.”

“Where's Jed?” asked Mr. Townsen. From our position in the corner of the gym, we could see everything: the bleachers were overflowing with bodies and backpacks, and there were enough painted faces to cast Blue Man Group twenty times over.

I locked eyes with Jenny.

“I think he went to the bathroom,” Jenny said, smoothing her hair back. “He said to start without him if he wasn't back in time.”

“Start with
out
him?” Townsen glanced down at his clipboard, then his watch. “Well, all right. Jed will just have to find his seat by himself.”

Phase One: complete.

This year, Boyd had been chosen to perform “The Star-Spangled Banner.” (Are you even the slightest bit surprised?) He sang in a sweet tenor with minimal riffs—which I appreciated—and when he hit the high note, everyone went wild. Even people who hated him applauded. (That's what I love about “The Star-Spangled Banner”: it brings people together.)

Then, the spotlight, so to speak, was on us. The Snow Court walked across the back of the gym and took our assigned seats. I was pretty sure I heard a few distinct cries of “Marni sucks!”

When Mr. Townsen took the mic and started speaking, Jed's chair was still empty. “You guys know
the drill,” Mr. Townsen said in his way-too-chummy voice. “The Snow Court represents the brightest stars of the senior class, as chosen by the administration, faculty, and you—the students. This year was a particularly interesting process, as one prince and one princess were chosen directly by the faculty. The rest were chosen as a result of your votes.”

Ah
. Jed and I were obviously the faculty picks; there was no way anyone would've voted for us. Still, though, while I didn't think anyone really
hated
me (not even you, Mrs. Cooper), who could have advocated for me enough to be chosen over Sharon Wu, for example?

“Let's hear from our first prince, Anderson St. James.”

Anderson strutted toward the podium, looking like the embodiment of the all-American teenage male. Even though he'd lied to me and betrayed my trust, I still wanted to leap from my seat like a gazelle and jump his bones. That's life, I guess.

“This speech is supposed to be about Bennington. Why I love going to school here. There are a lot of things I could say, for sure: my fellow students, the incomparable teachers, the beautiful grounds. But the
real
reason I love Bennington,” Anderson said, “is because of how willing everyone is to forgive.”

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