Chapter Six

Filled with embarrassment, I hurried out of the lobby, grabbing a thin shawl that I had brought just I case, and pulled it tightly around my shoulders. As I went, hairpins fell out of my hairdo, including a flower clip.

"Anna! Don't forget your clips! I still need them!" Lily grabbed it from the floor, and threw it at me. I let it hit my back and slide off, then quickened my pace.

"Leave me alone! Now where did you park the car?" The warm air hit me hard, and nearly suffocated me. I turned my head in all directions for our car, but I couldn't see anything. Just then, I felt a drop of warm liquid on my arm, and looked to the dark sky. Many raindrops started falling down, first small ones, then bigger and bigger, until I was completely soaked. By then, I didn't care what was going to happen that night anymore. It was all over already. My watch read 3:46, which meant that five and a half hours had passed, but it felt like twenty four hours. It couldn't be that short of a time frame. I flung my gold watch down onto the pavement, and little spider webs formed in the glass.

I didn't try to do anything. I simply ripped off my shawl, let it fall away with the wind, found a tree, and fell under it. All my resolve was lost. That determination that had seconds ago sort out my feelings was slipping away, and the frustration returned stronger than ever.

A debutante should be graceful and achieved, with many skills to speak of. She should be able to maneuver with careful diplomacy out of any situation while still being polite, ladylike, and even amiable. Times had changed, though. I was caught between the two frames, not mastering any of them. I couldn't be sweet, but I couldn't be confident.

Remaining half in denial with myself concerning my feelings about Nick, I buried my face in my palms. What happened to the determination? He was going to see me as who I really was. I didn't know what that meant anymore. Was there another, perfect Anna hiding underneath me? Or was there all my insecurities? I wanted to go back into the party. To apologize for my behavior to Gatsby, and to stun Nick. But no amount of steps could bring me there. If I arrived back at the doorstep, I wouldn't have the courage to knock. So I remained where I was.

Something told me that I could change the situation. But I blissfully ignored that voice. It was better to believe that it wasn't my fault. Was it my fault for falling in love with Nick? Was it my fault that he would never feel the same way? I stood up. Tripping over countless pebbles, I came back to the palace of lights, and weakly stumbled in with all my strength. Because whatever it was, I couldn't lie to myself.

Years later, I still maintain the same principle. Even after his death, I still won't lie to myself. He was honest. It was what he would have wanted. But my plan didn't involve lying to myself. Lying beside his gravestone, I convinced myself that I knew the plan all along.

"Miss, please tell me how I can be of service to you. You seem to have lost your shawl and your watch. Would you be so kind as to write down your address? It would be quite simple to order a replacement." Gatsby helped me in, handing me a glass of cordial.

I didn't know how to respond. What would someone sophisticated say? I was at a loss for phrases, and stammered:

"Oh, that old thing? I haven't worn it in years. I brought it tonight just to lose it somewhere! It's been lying in my closet since forever!"

He seemed satisfied at my response, and went away.

"You have gotten me a little worried, Anna." Nick came down the stairs, and I nearly squealed. Nick, worried about me?

"Here, have some cold fried chicken." With my social awkwardness, I thrusted him a plate, and almost fell over.

"Thank you, but I'm fine. Where were you?"

"Oh, no where really important. I needed some fresh air."

"It does get very humid here."

Was weather all people talked about? What did they talk about? Was it planned? Staged? Rehearsed? How did they carry a conversation? More importantly, how did they carry a conversation with someone they were crazily in love with?

"So, it must be thrilling to know Jordan Baker? I understand the extent of her fame."

"Nothing very special has happened yet, but she is very appealing. She's a very talented woman, and I am glad to have the pleasure of making her acquaintance."

"I see. What is your profession?"

I wondered how our conversation turned so formal, rigid, and stiff.

"I sell bonds, though I have aspired to be a novelist." Typical. I was told at an early age that the path to becoming a novelist was difficult, and that I should not pursue it.

"What about you?" Did he want to know? Should I tell him the truth?

"Well, you see… I live on a generous inheritance passed from my father, but I have attempted acting."

"This seems quite unusual for a frequenter at these parties."

"It is. But I still enjoy them, their intimacy. There isn't any intimacy at small parties."

"You sound almost identical to Jordan!" Out of all topics, this is what we turned to. I was confused, but mildly irritated.

"Has someone summoned me?" Out of nowhere, Jordan Baker popped out, looking the exact same as ever, with no hint of weariness. Even her outfit and hair remained untouched.

"I was just saying to Anna how much she sounded like you! So how did the conversation with Mr. Gatsby go?"

"Yes, the conversation! I just heard the most amazing thing! Of course, I wouldn't be able to tell. But it all makes sense!"

She sharply spun to me.

"Anna, Gatsby was the officer!"

Lines and neon colors started flashing before my eyes. I was seeing new connections form this very second, happening so fast. My world was spinning. Gatsby and Daisy and Nick and Jordan and me, Anna… Anna Ruby… Anna Carraway… Ms. Carraway…

Then it all went dark.