VIII.
To understand what Old Bullworth Vale really is, you can simply imagine a teenage girl drinking sugar-free black tea, always smiling, with a spoiled personality, huge love for tennis and beautiful Aquaberry dresses.
But Pinky would gladly refuse everything that is happening now.
Her father, sitting to the left, is looking at his watch, and her stepmother, who is only six years older, is tapping the table with her long nails. Pinky skips the math class, dreaming about a sweater from the new Aquaberry collection. Dad, apparently, is late for his next important meeting, and his… "girlfriend"? Pinky is sure she's skipping her impudence courses.
"You look thoughtful," her father remarks. "Is everything fine, Pinky?"
Everything is fine. She's always fine. And it will never be better than now, so she runs her fingers through the hem of her skirt and smiles softly, looking into his eyes. They are exactly the same as hers — blue — only there is always coldness and a certain shade of ruthlessness in them.
When Pinky meets her stepmother's eyes, she also continues to smile discreetly, and her father probably continues to think of those times when his daughter hasn't yet entered Bullworth Academy, where she was really a very good, not egoistic girl.
But Pinky loves him. She really loves her dad. But sometimes he just kills her with his cruel and cold behavior towards his workers and his desire to make Pinky the ideal heiress, marry his daughter off to her cousin so that there family was prefect, pure. Perhaps, that's why his attitude towards Katherine is radically different from his relationship with daughter. Sometimes it makes Pinky rude and hate her — certainly not the way a girl from a wealthy family should behave. Sometimes he even tells Pinky that she could be friendlier and not so bitter in communicating with her stepmother. And, in fact, Pinky really doesn't want to upset him, because thanks to her daddy, she doesn't have to work, she wears high-quality expensive clothes and in the future there is already a suitable place for her in the black leather chair of a big oil company. It's all too perfect — this is exactly what the less fortunate usually talk about. They don't see the other side, where she has to do everything to match the status. Pinky herself heard these insults and phrases from the category of "oh, well, daddy will buy you everything" many times. She even heard it from Mandy. Christy talked about it too. All the girls at the school talked about it, except Angie.
And Pinky then begged Mrs. Peabody to get her a roommate.
It was Angie.
Therefore, Pinky had complexes. Not because of Angie, no-no, she can be annoying sometimes, but overall she's a sweetheart. There were psychological traumas associated with childhood, which were successfully worked out by her therapist. Pinky doesn't even remember the day of divorce. She doesn't remember the day her mother passed away either. All she knows is that her father was in unbearable pain at that time, and he could be at work for weeks while Pinky was either with the governess or at Harrington House. In a month, daddy was ranked third on Bullworth's list of the richest people and seventh in the United States. He began to work even harder with the Harrington Oil Empire, but began to pay less attention to his family.
Is this also happening now?
Of course. He is very busy. Constant business trips, projects, contracts, deals — apparently, that's why Pinky entered Bullworth Academy. He even tried to improve her relationship with Katherine. Pinky sometimes envied that her father looked at her like she was something special — the way he used to look at his mother. Of course, he looked at Pinky the same way, but Katherine looked with such adoration only at her daddy. She hates Pinky. Or maybe she started to hate her, when she began her Bullworth studies.
Parker believes that Katherine is just showing love in a peculiar way. For example, she sometimes asks him to walk Pinky home. Should she be happy after that?
Pinky may seem superficial and shallow, but she remembers all their quarrels to the smallest detail. Every phrase, every look and the subsequent silence for several days.
Pinky knows from experience that a night in the dorm will make her forget what's going on at home.
"I was told that you got excellent grades this semester, except for math," her father says calmly with a dry smile. But in his beautiful blue eyes Pinky sees a glimmer of steely severity. "If you don't do stupid things and improve your result, then we will fly to Paris for Christmas."
"Yes, dad."
A shiver runs down her spine at the thought of how much money she'll have to spend to get those nerds to do her homework. Okay, Beatrice was never a problem, they even communicated quite well, if not for the periodic enchanting appearances of Mandy Wiles in the girls' dorm. But asking for Algernon's help is the dumbest idea. One day he thought that Pinky was asking him out on a date when she just approached him during the break and asked (ordered) to do her chemistry homework. And, God, how many times she had to laugh at him and throw away his bouquets — she can't count.
She has to do everything, get straight A's, live up to her daddy's expectations while some people don't even show up in class, preferring marginal, rotten New Coventry to Bullworth Academy.
Of course.
Pinky really hopes that she won't have to envy such people.
"Have you tried hiring tutors?" Katherine's voice seems somehow too sweet, pulls Pinky out of her thoughts and makes her look straight into her eyes. She notices what she usually missed before. Sharp cheekbones, an elegant neck, a white gold Aquaberry watch on a thin strap.
"I can handle it myself, daddy," Pinky looks at him. She shrugs, trying to appear calm. "I can make deals."
"Bribing the math teacher who hasn't even been fired?"
Pinky wants to laugh when she sees that mocking, but stern gray eyes. It's not hard to guess that another woman of her father is only trying to pretend that she cares, and that Pinky doesn't even plan to call the one who is only twenty-two years old "mother". She's been through this a million times already.
"Well, I hope you mean that I need to be more attentive in class," Pinky is a little confused by such a transparent attempt to hurt her. "Don't worry, Katherine, I won't follow your example and seduce adult single men."
This is not noble and, probably, even somehow stupid and selfish on Pinky's part. The father decides to read the newspaper. Pinky looks at him, but only hears him calmly flipping the page. Then cutlery jingles in the tense silence of the mansion. Her father rises from the table and leaves as the driver comes to get him. The mansion doesn't get warmer, the world isn't painted in bright colors, Pinky doesn't feel happier, even knowing that he hasn't paid attention to these arguments for a long time.
It seems that Pinky spends the best years of her life on these pointless quarrels. To the disgusting mood and to the rude words that she sends towards people who are not of her social status, in order to somehow release the accumulated negativity. Katherine exhales noisily, throws a sharp glance in Pinky's direction and also leaves the vast dining room, showing a spoiled mood with her whole appearance.
Maybe I'm completely wrong after all?
It's raining outside. The birds stop singing. Pinky still continues to drink her tea, waiting for the driver to take her to school, because there is noisy rustle outside the window, and a strong wind mercilessly rips off the yellowed leaves. Pinky read somewhere that incredible things happen in early autumn. But early autumn in Bullworth always has a very bitter smell.
She's definitely staying in the dorm tonight.
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In fact, the girls' dorm had a lot of advantages, from the fireplace on the first floor to the pink colour, which made it look like a real dollhouse. When Pinky just moved in here, she even imagined herself a princess, and the boys climbing into her room along a long green vine — knights. Mrs. Peabody in this interpretation, apparently, was an evil fire-breathing dragon. Which is not surprising, considering the fact how briskly she dealt with any boy who decided to quietly sneak in here. She walks the corridors, peers into the rooms to make sure she hasn't missed a single nasty little pervert.
Now Mrs. Peabody brings a new set of bedding into Pinky and Angie's room, and then, after giving them an extremely attentive look over the lenses of her glasses, she leaves.
"Is everything okay in there, girls?" her voice comes from a little further down the hallway.
"Yes, Mrs. Peabody!" now there are two completely different voices. Cheerful, with notes of enthusiasm — Melody Adams. And the second, gloomy and filled with boredom — Karen Johnson.
Pinky is unpacking her things and puts them neatly in the closet, while Angie is looking at her and trying to figure out what it was that made her return to her dorm room from luxury Old Bullworth Vale. At least, the amount of stuff that Pinky tries to put on the shelves implies that she is here for a long time. Angie doesn't mind at all, she's even glad. Falling asleep alone in front of an eternally empty room under the howl of the wind is not the most pleasant experience.
"Oh, right!" Pinky suddenly exclaims, putting her scarlet makeup bag on her bed. "I gave Christy my earrings when she went on that date, didn't I?"
Angie pretends like she didn't look at her all this time.
"Probably…" she replies uncertainly and slowly looks at the biology textbook lying next to her. "I think you better remind her."
Pinky slaps her forehead and leaves the room, heading for Mandy and Christy, a little further down a long pink corridor with all sorts of paintings on the walls. She meets Eunice along the way, and the girl gives her a friendly smile, making Pinky feel for a moment like she hasn't been here for a very long time. And, in fact, she's very glad to stay. The girls' dorm of Bullworth Academy is somehow cozy, sweet, cute — there is nothing that is happening outside, no fights and bloody rumbles. Maybe rare verbal arguments, which in the rarest cases reach the point of assault. A fight here, perhaps, can only happen between Mandy and Lola. Or, which is more rare, between Lola and Pinky. Or if something doesn't please Zoe. Otherwise, everything is fine here.
Pinky slows down in front of the door to the right room and knocks three times — Mandy hates it when people enter without knocking. And Pinky doesn't need conflicts with her, even if they may be insignificant.
"Mandy, hey, listen," she enters right after knocking. "Do you know..."
Pinky freezes when she notices the thin figure of the head cheerleader on the bed, wrapped in a blanket and with an extremely depressed expression on her face. For the first few seconds, Pinky doesn't even know what to do: turn around and leave, let Mandy be alone, or call Christy, because she thinks Mandy is about to cry. She's been in limbo for several days. Pinky knows the reason and maybe she's a little ashamed.
"Hey," she quietly walks into the room, "Mandy, how are you?"
The girl doesn't answer her at first, staring blankly at the wall, but when Pinky sits on the edge of the bed, Mandy looks at her and exhales sadly.
"I just don't understand why this always happens to me? First, those nasty pictures. Now this," she spreads her arms to the sides and looks up at the girl again. "Pinky, why is it always me?"
Probably karma. For bullying and giving students a hard time. There was even a rumour that one girl committed suicide because of Mandy, but all this turned out to be just dirty gossip that spoils her reputation. Mandy could be that bitch, this is true, but as soon as you get to know her better, go to the Carnival together, shopping, and just talk, Mandy immediately showed her other side. Mandy Wiles is honest. If she doesn't like someone, she just doesn't like that someone at all , and she will gladly bite their throat. But she is not one of those who will stab people in the back.
Pinky will stab in the back. Mandy stood up for her in the locker room against Lola. Mandy helped her during cheerleading practice.
Pinky even now stabs in the back, listening to her and not wanting to tell the truth. The whole vibe of the unapproachable ice girl is lost just like that, and she can't even look Mandy in the eye properly, just looks down at the blue Aquaberry shoes and thinks about how she almost seems to have become a nasty little schemer who gets away with everything, like her friends.
Old Bullworth Vale rich kids, yeah.
You are all so similar.
"Oh, Pinks, you're here too. Why did you come?" she is suddenly distracted by Christy's voice. The red-haired girl smiles friendly at her and, apparently remembering something, quickly finds herself at her bedside table. "Exactly! I forgot to return your earrings. Thanks, they are amazing. And where were you anyway? Oops..."
The flow of questions stops immediately.
"Mandy," Christy breathes out. "Girl, if you sit in this room for the second day in a row, you will never get revenge on him."
"On who?" Pinky asks.
"Ted," the red-haired girl replies, crumpling his name dismissively.
Mrs. Peabody's footsteps fade away outside the walls. The silence of the room is diluted only by drops, weakly drumming on the glass. Here, the annoying sound of multiple voices echoes from the hallway. Pinky automatically licks her dry lips as Mandy rises from the bed and Christy applauds loudly.
"It's time for me to stop whining and remember what it means to be the head cheerleader and the most popular girl in Bullworth Academy."
Mandy Wiles has a loud and confident voice. She throws her warm blanket away, goes to the mirror and just looks at herself for a few more seconds — rosy cheeks, long eyelashes and slightly reddened eyes. It seems that she really cried, but now she looks almost normal — still the same perfectly slender body, long nails with red manicure and a deep, almost piercing look. This is how she usually looks at cheerleading practice, and it's quite a bit scary. Pinky even flinches when Mandy lightly touches her shoulder, as if to thank her for the support. And then all the three girls turn around when they hear that annoying sound that accompanies their entire time at Bullworth Academy.
"Won't they stop throwing these stupid eggs at our dorm?!" Mandy clings to the doorknob with slender fingers, but stops immediately when Christy pulls the cheerleader towards her.
"No, honey, stay here, we'll talk to them ourselves," she promises. "Otherwise, they will break in here again and paint all the walls."
Mandy exhales loudly, puts her hands on her hips and looks at both girls suspiciously.
"I hope you don't think that after this story I've become crazy and going to fight right now?"
When Christy shrugs, Pinky just smiles awkwardly.
"We just think that the best thing to do now is to be diplomatic," she remarks, looking away a little, then stamping her foot. Exactly in her own way. "After all, these filthy scumbags keep throwing eggs in our room too."
Mandy has a sincere smile, her eyes express gratitude, and this is so different from that bitch Mandy Wiles that Pinky really feels a certain prick of guilt.
Mandy asks them not to close the door, and when Christy and Pinky go out into the spacious corridor, a cool draft immediately passes through the skin.
Pinky breathes a sigh of relief as she follows Christy down the stairs until she suddenly decides to slow down a bit. Lola Lombardi greets Christy as she passes by, and the red-haired girl gives her a friendly smile. Pinky is silent, letting Lola get past her. Beautiful girl, really very beautiful. Pinky absolutely doesn't want to say anything to her, she doesn't even look at her. She only sees Lola smirk, her lips twisting into a slight smile for only a second, but that's enough to just walk away peacefully. Pinky is not Mandy. She doesn't need to be held when someone she doesn't like passes by. Perhaps, this was Miss Gautier's main advantage — a cold ability to control herself. But she stays away from the greaser girl not only because of manipulating guys. Lola, by definition, cannot be called an ordinary girl. Beautiful — always. But her ability to make people tensed or hurt them with only simple smile or just one glance is not normal.
Johnny is a great example of this.
Okay, Pinky, calm down.
Change the subject now.
"If they're bothering you like that, can't you just ask Damon to talk to them?"
Damon West and just talk. Oh, yeah.
"Come on!" Pinky catches light notes of indignation in Christy's loud intonation. "You don't know what happened? There's no way Mandy's going to ask Damon for help."
That's true.
Pinky meets Christy's gaze as she adjusts the collar of her snow-white school blouse and smiles innocently, but with an insistent desire to offer at least some option.
"Then maybe Bif can help?"
But Christy almost stumbles in surprise right here on the stairs, and Pinky has to catch her. She even becomes embarrassed by how confused Christy looks right now. A small shiver runs through her spine, Pinky bites her lower lip, trying to figure out what else she missed or simply forgot because of her own egoism.
"Pinky, I'm not going to Bif after what happened," Christy says surprisingly calmly, but her look immediately changes. "Did you even listen to me?"
It seems that she didn't listen. But it's not like Pinky wasn't listening on purpose. It's just really hard to focus on a conversation when there's a mirror nearby and you're wearing new earrings.
"Maybe I should ask Parker then?"
Christy slowly turns to her.
"Pinks," she says, looking a little guilty, "no offense, but I don't want to seek help from the preps at all."
Pinks. Christy has been calling her that since joining the cheerleading squad.
Pinky at first wants to say that Christy doesn't understand anything and that her friends are the nicest people in this school, but she only exhales. It's important to put up with other people's opinions. Only this helps her to have friends here.
Christy, apparently, notices this little hitch and, most likely, she even becomes embarrassed. She didn't want to offend anyone, it's just that all these guys — these rich ones — always demand something in return. Like you always owe them. And then they say it's just business. Christy doesn't want to compare friendship with profit. And she also doesn't want to offend Pinky, because, in her opinion, she is the only adequate and maybe even kind person in Aquaberry here.
That is why Christy decides to defuse tensions.
"By the way, it turns out Mandy wasn't with Johnny that night."
Pinky bumps into the front door.
"Really??"
It was too pretentious.
Without waiting for an answer, Pinky opens the door, and the cool air immediately begins to blow over her face. When they are on the porch, she exhales with a barely perceptible tension, because Christy still continues to stare at her. Outside, the sky begins to darken. It's going to start pouring soon.
"Yeah, you know, we almost had a fight. Any stuff happens at these parties, right? I've seen a lot of things," Christy puts on a dark blue scarf around her neck, but the autumn cold still mercilessly takes away the remaining warmth. "And you still didn't tell me who you were with…"
Pinky thinks that in this situation, she needs her driver, or even better, she needs to just run away. But Christy has always been an understanding person. If you don't want to tell her something, she won't force you. She'll just find out later because, well, it's Christy Martin. Not a single gossip gets past her.
The gaze glides lazily across the school grounds, clinging to the façade of Bullworth Academy and the boys' dorm in the distance. No, Pinky definitely doesn't plan to be out in the rain, but she really likes the view, because it turns out to be somehow beautiful. Inspiring.
Two guys in white shirts, noticing the girls, immediately run away, throwing a box of eggs somewhere. Pinky even wants to send some kind of insult after them, but she very quickly remembers that this is wrong, ignoble, so she only slowly turns around and now enjoys looking at glum Ricky Pucino who's not happy about the slowly starting rain. He looks around boredly, exhales cigarette smoke, and after a few seconds turns towards the girls. At the sight of Christy some semblance of a smile appears on his face.
"Gray and dark, huh?" Ricky runs his hand through his hair, looking indifferently into the distance.
He isn't wearing his leather jacket and doesn't really enjoy Pinky's presence. She understands why he becomes gloomier, why he sometimes literally flinches, why he purses his lips. That's why he tries harder not to cross paths with her.
"What are you doing outside the girls' dorm, Ricky?" Christy asks with a sly smile, tilting her head slightly. "Do you want us all to call you a pervert?"
"You having problems with this, doll? I don't sneak in there."
A cloud of cigarette smoke dissolves into the air. Pinky sees that Christy involuntarily looks away after this casual "doll". Ricky's just smoking. He's focused on the smoldering flame of a cigarette, furtively glancing at the red-haired girl, who doesn't seem to know what else to say. Pinky notes that Christy is usually much more talkative.
But when the silence becomes too awkward, Pinky decides to break it. Not in the best way, of course.
"Why are you at school? You all have been suspended."
Ricky flicks the ashes from his cigarette at his feet, giving the girl standing behind Christy the most lazy look.
"Why you talking to me? Go to your trust fund fairies and ruin their mood."
"I just love that you're not wearing your leather jacket, Pucino. Now you don't look like a hobo."
As usual. Nothing ever changes in this school.
"Pinky," Christy turns to her, looks pleadingly, standing between the preppy girl and Ricky. "Take it easy."
However, all she hears is a chuckle. Ricky actually smiles casually at Christy, running one hand through her brown hair. And Christy picks up a nearby pebble with the tip of her shoe. Pinky thinks something is wrong between them. Something is definitely not right.
"Nah, it's fine. The last thing I care about is what Harrington's cousin thinks of me," Ricky shrugs. Pinky gives him a eloquent look, but he ignores it. Just extinguishes a cigarette against a concrete wall. "Why did you run out of the dorm like that?"
He comes a little closer. Christy is literally staring at him — it's very unusual to see Ricky without his leather jacket. Blue sweater with the school crest, white shirt, rolled up sleeves. Christy wants to ask if he's cold, but remembers that he asked the question first. Ricky also looks away as she replies with a slight half-smile:
"We wanted to have a talk with those who constantly egg our dorm. Even after curfew."
Ricky clears his throat. Everyone eggs the girls' dorm — it's a tradition already. And he even allows himself to smile almost imperceptibly. Unless, Christy's voice and those notes of sadness make him feel a certain prick of conscience. After all, he also threw eggs, but he never thought about what it was like for the girls there.
"It was Davis and Tom this time, wasn't it?" she asks. Ricky just nods, which makes her frown. "Oh, come on, we've been putting up with this for years!"
"And there's no one in the whole school who could beat the crap outta them?" he puts his hands into the pockets as Pinky snorts theatrically loudly at his remark. Christy touches her shoulder, knowing fully well these horrible conflicts between the preps and the greasers. And she thinks that if she weren't here now, something loud would happen. Something which would cause a lot of gossips. Christy knows from her experience that if Pinky doesn't like someone, she won't be nice to him. She won't date him. Especially of it's someone from the greasers.
Pinky and the greaser together. It's funny, isn't it?
"Bif helped, but then he turned out to be a jerk," Christy doesn't look Ricky in the eyes. "Pinks, don't stare at me like that, no offense."
"Taylor," he pronounces the hateful last name as Christy turns away from him. "What a surprise."
Pinky rolls her eyes as Ricky glances at her.
The wind is howling near the upper floors of Bullworth Academy, tearing weak yellow leaves from the trees. Somewhere in the background a scream is heard — maybe another fight has started, — but, in general, everything is not so bad. When you study in this atmosphere, when your friends constantly get into conflicts, you gradually start to get used to it. Pinky doesn't even think about hurting Ricky. She doesn't care. Maybe just the fact that her and Justin's plan forced all the greasers to take off their jackets at once awakens a certain sense of guilt. Although she warned Johnny, but he didn't listen, which is not a surprise. Who will listen to someone who was a bitch?
Why does Pinky herself feel guilty because of those who ruined her life too?
A few cold drops fall from the sky. Ricky takes a small step towards Christy. He is taller than her, stronger, and this makes the red-haired girl involuntarily look away.
"Guess we can help."
"Are you serious?" Christy asks disbelievingly at first.
"Me and the boys can threaten them a little," he remarks, putting his hands back in his pockets and regaining his former gloomy look. "Besides, Johnny doesn't really like the bullies, you know. Won't be a problem."
Does your Johnny like anyone?
"Oh, Ricky, thank you!" Christy literally blossoms and almost hugs him.
Ricky clears his throat awkwardly, but doesn't hug her back. Not because he doesn't want to — Christy removes her hands from his shoulders too quickly and steps back towards Pinky, adjusting a strand of hair that has fallen out of her ponytail.
Pinky looks at his back for a few more seconds, and when they return to their dorm, she says to Christy:
"It really seems that he likes you."
"Or he's just trying to forget his ex-girlfriend, so he decided to help. Some people do that," Christy shrugs as they stop near her room. "I wouldn't trust the guy who broke up with the girl and still thinks about her."
Laughter is heard in the next room. It seems that after six o'clock the girls' dorm becomes the center of gossip and all sorts of jokes.
Pinky is only distracted by this for a moment and thinks about how the greasers always have some kind of girlfriend drama. They probably have too many girlfriends. How disgusting.
Christy snaps her out of her thoughts with a light touch on her shoulder.
"But, in general, Ricky is a good guy, really."
"However, I still don't understand how you communicate with him," Pinky admits. "They are just... brutes."
Christy removes her hand. She blinks in surprise, and her eyes seem a little lost. After a moment, she becomes more serious.
"They'd be nice to you too, if you hadn't been trying to put them behind bars all this time. They mirror your attitude. Do you remember how Johnny almost got himself expelled because of you?" she reminds, and the preppy girl looks away. For some reason, Christy thinks this is a good sign. "Give them a chance, Pinky. Maybe then there will be less conflicts and Bullworth Academy will become the best school in the world."
When they enter the room, Mandy is not there. Pinky automatically glances over the pink wallpaper and watches as Christy arranges the books neatly on the table.
"Then not only these filthy ragamuffins should take care of themselves, but every student."
"You remind me a lot of Derby right now," Christy laughs.
Pinky literally gets all twisted.
"Oh, stop it! Don't talk about him."
/ \
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However, Pinky thinks about Christy's words for a long time, taking bags of clothes from her driver and feeling how she is shackled by doubts and distrust. She even just stands still for a while, until the driver decides to call her and offer his help.
"Miss Gauthier, you shouldn't carry such heavy things."
Yep, and she should also be in Old Bullworth Vale, in the dorm, or maybe at one of her friends' houses. But for the past three years, several times a month, she has been visiting the orphanage in New Coventry, bringing clothes and helping in any way she can — she gives the money her father often puts in her bag. In fact, Pinky has no regrets at all. Parker was the first to speak about it. He visited this orphanage, donated money when there was a fire, and was silent for a very long time; so long that Pinky didn't even know about his noble visits to New Coventry. She learned about it from Derby. And Parker was very embarrassed at first, didn't want to talk about it at all, because the orphanage was in the poorest area of their town. But over time, everything became normal — they all visited this place. Each of them. Maybe Justin and Chad didn't show the same desire to help children. But then everything stopped — the preps didn't even have time to get to the orphanage, there began bloody fights with the greasers, who didn't want to see them in New Coventry. But Pinky still arrives with her driver, and, oh, if only her father knew where she was. New Coventry is notorious for an exorbitant level of crime, gangs, graffiti, fights and very strange people.
Sometimes, passing dilapidated houses, she was thinking: how do the greasers manage to live here? In such an atmosphere?
Even now, rare lanterns are the only source of light on the deserted streets, and there is practically no lighting in the windows, as if no one lives there. Only if you get out of the car and stand in the middle of the street, you can hear a baby crying, and then, a minute later, a plate breaks loudly and someone starts a fight. Perhaps, a married couple — it often happens here. Cars seem to prefer not to appear in this part of town at all. One look at New Coventry at night causes subconscious fear.
But Pinky still glances at old houses, ignoring the worried look of her driver — carrying heavy bags for children, who have no parents, is not a problem. Pinky even smiles. Here, the whole image of a spoiled rich girl, whom everyone considers a princess, disappears. Here she doesn't think about Aquaberry, about her status. She only smiles and sincerely wants to help. Actually, it's curious — does she really differ from herself that everyone sees at school?
Climbing the stone steps, Pinky puts two large bags next to the railing and presses the bell button, humbly waiting for Mrs. Thomas, the owner, with whom they became so close that this sweet old lady worried about Pinky's life much more than her own father. They often drank tea, and Mrs. Thomas, in all seriousness, considered her a good, diligent girl. Pinky matched this image — she was just the way she is. She wasn't angry when one of the kids accidentally bumped into her. She just nodded and acted politely. She didn't have to be dramatic here.
After standing calmly for a few more seconds, the girl comes down, but as soon as she hears the sound of the opening door, she immediately turns around and smiles.
"Pinky, dear! We've been waiting for you!"
Feeling how all the positive emotions inside are abruptly fading into the background, Pinky's face almost immediately changes at the sight of a guy carefully holding the elderly Mrs. Thomas by the elbow. And he, in turn, instantly stops smiling softly.
"What the-"
Now Johnny understands that he needs to try his best not to swear.
Looking at him, Pinky feels the nerves inside twist into an incredibly tight knot. Her lips form a straight line, which along with frowning thin eyebrows, don't look friendly at all.
Johnny glares at her the same way, his fluffy brown hair falling casually over his forehead. He doesn't seem particularly surprised or even a little annoyed. Mrs. Thomas holds his arm and seems to be the only one here who is happy.
The rising wind with burning cold touches the warm skin. Somewhere the sound of breaking glass is heard. Police siren wailing in distance.
The silent scene doesn't last long. Mrs. Thomas releases Johnny's hand and slowly approached the girl to give her a warm hug.
"Dear, thank you very much," says the old lady, bringing Pinky back to reality. "Kids missed you. Your friend Parker visited us last week."
"I know, Mrs. Thomas," the girl manages to smile back. "And don't thank me, it makes me very embarrassed. I'm always happy to help."
Finding this answer pleasant, Mrs. Thomas talks some more time about how good Pinky is, and turns to Johnny, but when the old lady wants to add something, he says without much enthusiasm in his voice:
"We study at the same school."
"Yes," Pinky agrees with him very involuntary. "We've met already."
The old lady claps her hands happily and invites them to enter, letting Pinky in first. Johnny takes the bags brought by the girl and closes the door. Together they follow Mrs. Thomas down the creaking corridor of the orphanage, and Pinky, clutching her sweater a little nervously, occasionally turns to look at Johnny. Mrs. Thomas often praises him. For her, he is also a very good boy. And Pinky, looking over her shoulder at him again, sees a relaxed gait, a permanent black leather jacket and this silver stud earring sparkling in the dim light. He is far from being a good boy. But Mrs. Thomas continues to talk about him and Pinky with her monotonous, soothing voice. Most of the kids are already asleep, so the old lady tries to sound as quiet as possible.
"It's great when young people help us."
As they walk into the spacious hall, Pinky feels Johnny stop right behind her, listening to Mrs. Thomas and nodding. Then he silently places both bags on the old couch by the window, and Pinky moves away, at a good distance from the leader of the greasers. But for some reason she continues to look at him, as if trying to understand what he is doing here and why it's him in general.
When the old lady goes out for a while to check the rooms on the first floor and wish the still awake kids good night, the girl decides to just look at the window, behind which the darkness of New Coventry is gathering. Johnny is also silent and just sits down on the sofa, as if not paying any attention to this prickly ball of tension in blue Aquaberry sweater. Actually, nothing even changes, if not taking into account the fact that now they are thinking about each other.
Pinky is surprised by his presence here. Maybe even a little shocked. For her, all the greasers are terrible immorals with a thirst for blood, and Johnny Vincent — especially.
Johnny, on the other hand, thinks that seeing the girl in this old orphanage, the girl who easily sets people up, behaves superficially and disgustingly, is akin to fiction. Hallucination. Hell, not Pinky Gauthier. Not in New Coventry. Not helping people.
Scattered drops of rain trickle down the glass. A draft comes in through the open window. Pinky sneaks a glance at Johnny, gives him those sharp, uncomprehending looks, but doesn't say a word. First, pride doesn't allow. Not with this guy. Secondly, she is generally afraid to talk to him after all that she has done. And Christy's words, like a mantra, keep repeating in her head, only aggravating the situation.
Pinky purses her lips and lowers her head. Outside, the wind becomes stronger, someone is kicking tin cans, or maybe dropping a trash can. This time, Pinky looks at Johnny longer, noticing his terrible depressed state — tense shoulders, a blurry look, as if something is bothering him. He constantly frowns, and Mrs. Thomas goes around the rooms for a very long time. She is the only hall monitor here. They don't have much money.
Purely by accident, Pinky stumbles on the edge of the couch and Johnny immediately turns to her, looks at her — instant eye contact is established. His gaze is somehow completely different, but he doesn't say a word to her — he just silently watches. Pinky blinks a couple of times stupidly, notices the way he looks at her and forgets about her pride, pushes it away, into the brightest corners of Old Bullworth Vale.
"Everything is fine?"
She approaches Johnny, but doesn't sit next to him.
"Just great," he says, not even looking at her now.
Harsh.
Pinky just shrugs, looking at him skeptically, and is already turning back to go to the other side of the room, as she freezes in place. He stops playing with the rings on his long fingers. It is such a quiet and maybe even a little guilty "hey" that makes her stop.
"Sorry about that," was the first kind word he'd said to her. "I'm just not used to talking to any of you normally."
"Ow," Pinky chuckles. "It's not about that."
At this point, Johnny turns to her and looks a little more open than usual. He leans back on the couch and now looks at the girl calmly, not at all like in school. His gaze lingers on her for about five seconds, as if Johnny is carefully thinking about what to say. There is even a hint of curiosity in his eyes now. Pinky looks back at him patiently. Calmly too.
"Do you often come here?"
For the first few moments, Pinky just continues to stand with her arms crossed over her chest, watching the raindrops run down the glass. She doesn't even believe at first that this is the simplest question. It's not a fight, it's not a scandal, it's not even a verbal conflict. Johnny just asks. He's interested. For the first time, Pinky doesn't feel this terrible tension between them — it really looks like the most ordinary conversation.
"Several times a month," she says, and Johnny nods at her. "I would like to come more often and help than I can, but you know... School."
"Why don't you tell your family to help?"
"My daddy doesn't know about it. I do everything myself."
"Wow," there seems to be genuine surprise in his voice. "Well, you've got strong nerves if you're not afraid to come to New Coventry."
He smirks. Naturally.
Pinky thinks she has told too much. So she decides to ask him her question.
"What about you?"
However, Johnny doesn't have time to answer her. He rises from his seat as Mrs. Thomas slowly walks into the hall and gives them her good-natured smile. She seems to be very glad that a good boy and a good girl communicate so pleasantly. Pinky looks at her watch and, glancing at Johnny again, turns to the old lady:
"Mrs. Thomas, I'm afraid I have to go. I can't break curfew."
The driver should be here soon.
"Oh, what a pity," the older lady shakes her head. Pinky looks away in embarrassment. Mrs. Thomas herself, standing beside Johnny, suddenly narrows her eyes again kindly. "Why don't you together come along?"
You together.
If Pinky had tea, she would choke.
The girl forces herself to smile, mechanically adjusting the collar of her white blouse, feeling that it starts to put pressure on her neck. Johnny leans back against the wall and just exhales. He doesn't answer, and they just turn away from each other at the same time.
"Exactly!" Mrs. Thomas exclaims quietly so not to wake anyone. "You can come tomorrow evening!"
Pinky just looks up and meets the old lady's clear blue eyes. It's impossible to say "no" at all, even if she has to do a hundred exercises from Mr. Hattrick and a project for Miss Phillips. Maybe she'll have to pay Beatrice or Bucky again. Or all these nerds. Pinky hasn't decided yet.
"Okay, Mrs. Thomas, I'll be here by seven," Johnny suddenly agrees, running a hand through his brown hair. He leans against the wall.
Pinky remarks for some reason that he looks cool.
This leather jacket over a white shirt — really cool.
"Wonderful, dear! Children will be very happy."
"I don't doubt," he smiles. He doesn't smirk as usual, but smiles sincerely and puts his left hand into the pocket of his blue jeans. "But now I have to go."
Pinky freezes in surprise as soon as Johnny, after saying goodbye to Mrs. Thomas, turns around and leaves. What the girl sees strikes her, and it seems that if Justin was in this place, he would walked here with the most sour expression on his face, but Johnny… Oh God. Pinky feels like she's about to get a headache — there are too many events for today. Mrs. Thomas, noticing her condition, suggests her resting on the couch, but Pinky shakes her head. She simply says that she will also be there by seven o'clock and will bring another bag, for which she'll have to return to the mansion in Old Bullworth Vale.
It's getting really cold outside. Five degrees, probably ten. Pinky immediately shivers and fixes her eyes on the opposite side of the street. A black mustang illuminates the darkness of New Coventry with its bright headlights and drives away when Mrs. Thomas follows the girl and says aloud that Johnny is a very good and sweet boy indeed.
Pinky even begins to believe it, but immediately convinces herself that it's not true. The number of conflicts that were between them will not be forgotten, and the girl is even struggling to contain her poisonous laughter.
Until Mrs. Thomas says something which Pinky will be thinking about all evening and probably even the next day:
"The boy lived in this orphanage until he was fourteen years old."