What happens when Mrs. Prentiss meets Lin?

What happens at the race?

Chapter 3

Questions of Infidelity

Lin pulled up at the parking lot at Belmont Park. She pulled off her helmet, laughing. I tugged off my helmet, too.

But Lin leaned over and kissed me on the lips. I blushed. This was weird.

"That was for the ride. You'll let me ride it again?" Lin asked, hanging the helmet on the handle bars of the motor cycle.

"Sure!" I was all for it, and hopefully Lin would never know that the bike was my mother's.

I pulled the tickets from my pocket; my mother already had hers. We walked past the gate, and an usher directed us to the stands.

We had a box seat, open to the sky, and had a railing to keep others out. "Well, what are we going to do now?"

"Isn't your mother here?" Lin looked around, at the huge crowds and horses circling the track, warming up.

The small door at the railing clanged open. It was my mother, and she held a tub of popcorn.

"Food!" Lin cried. She took the tub of popcorn, and started eating.

"The lines are miles long," My mother said. She waved a stack of napkins, fanning her face. "And the food is overpriced. That bucket of popcorn cost fifteen dollars. So, tsarevich, who is this?"

"I'm Melinda di Angelo, but you can call me Lin." Lin held out her hand, and my mother shook it gravely. "I go to school with Alex. I'm a junior."

"Lin…You look familiar. Have we met before?" My mother looked thoughtful.

"No, I don't think so. You said you lived in Italy, and me and my father have lived in New York for years."

"But I did live in America for years, when I was younger." My mother, waved her hands, trying to show how many years.

"Really? My father lived in Los Angeles when he was younger." Lin smiled. "But you probably didn't live there."

"That's a strange coincidence." My mom looked puzzled. "I lived in Los Angeles for seven years."

"My father's name is Nico di Angelo. I probably don't think you've met him." Lin chewed on a kernel of popcorn thoughtfully.

"Oh dear…" My mother whispered. "Excuse me; I have to make a few phone calls…" She scurried out of the box.

"What's with her?" Lin shoved a handful of popcorn in her mouth. "I wonder if she ever met her father, little prince."

"How did you know…" I trailed off, looking embarrassed. How did she know the meaning of my mother's pet name?

"Tsarevich, it means 'royal son'." Lin fingered the rim of the popcorn tub. "But tsarevich means that you're not crown prince. That there are other kids…Tell me, Alex, do you have any brother or sisters, any siblings that your parents don't want you to know about?"

"No…I'm a single child." This was getting awkward.

"I would think it was your father…He goes on business trips often, no? Or it could be your mother…She might be the one, who's a little…amoral. After all, she called you tsarevich."

"Lin, can you stop?" She was really getting on my nerves. I wished that this could be the nice, sunny outing that was normal, not about messed up family relationships and infidelity.

"Alex, what's your mother's name?" She crunched a few kernels of popcorn.

I wished the race would start, and this conversation would be over with. "Minerva. Why? What does that have to do with anything?"

Lin frowned. "Minerva…My father said I was named after my mother, who he said was dead. Is it possible, or is the chance too small that they have met? What's her maiden name?"

"How would I know?" I said, fidgeting in my seat. "Guys don't pay attention to stuff like that. And my mother would have told me that she had another kid or something."

"Whatever. Let's just play a game then, if you're so reluctant to talk about this." Lin glanced at the sky, noting the clouds that were rolling in. "It's called the Question Game."

"Sure. How do you play?" I think I knew this game, but I wasn't sure. I hoped it wasn't the Truth Game. Because that made things weird. But I had already accepted the offer, decided to join.

"You just tell the truth. I ask a question, and I expect you to answer. These are the rules: No slipping in two questions as one, the first question is the one you have to answer, and once the question is out, it's out, and there's nothing you can do except tell the truth. And if you start to say something, you have to finish it." Lin grinned. "Now, I go first. Alex, why do you think your mom looks so sad?"

That alarmed me. I had never thought that my mom was sad or anything, but now that was out, I was wondering…"I think it's because she never really wanted to marry my dad, but she did, because of social pressure or something. And she loved someone else."

"Do you know who that other person was?" Lin leaned forward, her eyes gleaming.

"Excuse me? You just broke your own rule. Does that mean I get a penalty?" Lin was being sneaky, trying to lull me into answering. I wasn't supposed to answer, but if I did, then I would to finish.

"Oh, sorry, that just slipped out. You ask a question, then. And there are no penalties." Lin smiled. "Go ahead, Alex."

"Lin, why do you have to wear chains so much? Is it a fashion statement or something?" I had always wondered about that.

"Because they're good, reliable weapons." Lin pulled her chain belt out. "There are all sorts of…unsavory…characters out there." She swung the chain. "It's my chain whip." Wow. That was weird. She must be totally into self defense, then. Why not use pepper spray or mace? Most girls used them.

"So does that answer your question?" demanded Lin.

I nodded. "It does seem a bit extreme to me. Go ahead, ask your question."

"What does it feel like to have a lot of money?" Lin asked. She stared at the sky, dominated by gloomy grey clouds.

"Well, it makes things easier. I can go to college with bad grades, because my father can pay a donation for a new wing or something." This was a weird question. I wondered why Lin asked it. "But my dad wants me to go to parties, balls, social events. They tire me. And they introduce me to 'debutantes' on their first season or something stupid. I lie to them, put a fake smile on, and they leave me alone. I realize that when they talk to each other, it's all fake. The charming façade, those pretty exteriors hide all that messed up family troubles: infidelity, drugs, hidden scandals. Having money isn't everything."

Lin smiled. "That was very wise, oh great sage." She had a sarcastic tone in her voice.

"Whatever." I said. "Where are you from?"

"I'm from here, New York." Lin was grinning. She was deliberately giving me a vague answer, and I couldn't do anything about it, because it was the truth. But two could play at this game.

"What are you afraid of, Alex?" Lin was smiling, showing off her slightly pointed canines.

"Oh, you just had to ask that question, did you? Well, I'm afraid of: death, pain, loneliness, being abandoned, and snakes." I counted them off on my fingers. "I think that's about it. Lin, what are you afraid of?"

Lin's smile had faded. She was now scowling. She fiddled with her chain belt, which was lying limply in her hands. "I'm afraid of eternal torture, too. But not of death. After all, it's just going to happen anyway, isn't it? I don't like feeling weak or incapable of something. But I hate not being in control. I don't like having too much expected of me…" She trailed off. Thunder rumbled, and a few drops fell on the ground, darkening the track.

We sat there. The gate opened, and the horses started to run out.

Aurhor's Notes: I wrote this out at school, because school is as boring as…as a retirement community, or a nursing home.

This is part one of the race scene, and I'm just too lazy to finish it. Besides it's really late right now as I type this.

DO NOT BE AFRAID OF REVIEWING.

Well, this makes some weird thoughts….I bet you never thought this!

And I actually know you in real life, then that's awkward. I bet you didn't know I could write like this…But I'm rambling now….Good night.

Have a nice life.