Chapter 16
October 1973 – Harvard Business School
Angela blew the steam off the top of her chai tea, and placed the cup discreetly on the coffee table. She flipped back over the copy of Crime and Punishment on her lap.
Emily continued, "So, then Nikolai vehemently confesses to the murders, even though he obviously didn't do it."
"That was so weird!" Bobbi Jo shook her head, picking up her latte.
"Yeah, especially in these circumstances. It's not like he's likely to get community service," Margot extrapolated, left palm up, for emphasis.
Most of the ladies gave mm-hmm affirmations; Angela nodded.
"Since the chapter ends with the confession - before we go on – do we want to talk about why we think he did that?" Christy asked.
All the ladies nodded, but nobody said anything. Angela picked her tea back up, and tested the temperature through the tiniest sip.
"Angela? What do you think?" Emily said, trying to engage their quietest member.
Angela looked down off to the side a little, thinking. She took a breath. "I think…when things are just awful, it's easy to assume you're awful. And when you feel like you're awful, you can't stand for people to keep assuming you're normal and good like they are. The pretense is too much pressure to contain. After a while, you just want relief – and maybe it's easy for someone to assume they did do something awful since they feel like it's something they would do. And things can get fuzzy in confusion and high-pressure situations. Maybe, just the suggestion that he was guilty, from someone on the outside of his internal chaos and self-hatred, made it seem like he was being truly uncovered. Maybe it felt like things were starting to be set right in his world; jolting him with a sort of perverted ecstasy in his imposter syndrome - not with truth, but with a confirmation of his own lies."
The women had all stopped sipping their drinks, and were just staring at Angela. Bobbi Jo was the first to start them all laughing. Angela was mortified, but then Bobbi Jo said wide-eyed, "Angela. That actually makes sense!"
"Girl, you need to talk more," Margot said, bobbing her head. Emily and Christy looked at each other, smiling widely. Margot continued, "While we've got you here, how would someone get to a place where they thought that about themselves. It's not like it was true."
Angela knew they could see her blushing - first from her mistaken embarrassment, and now from the positive attention. But she tried to breathe. All the ladies were looking at her expectantly. She liked them a lot. Their laughter just now was the first time she'd experienced even a hint of meanness from them, and that proved to be an erroneous assumption. She was so happy to be here. But that made her nervous. Angela's terrified response to that laughter made it clear to her that she was in a dangerous place. All they had to do was show her they didn't like her, and she'd be devastated. But Angela was also reveling in the kindness they offered, and she tried to refocus on the question. "I– I'm not sure…" They waited, not saying anything. She thought of Ben's smile, encouraging her to be honest and brave. She looked past them, and thought aloud. "I guess it was probably easier than feeling how hurt he must've been. It's kind of an out. Like, a way for his life to make sense. If he were bad, inherently, that means it makes sense if life was so hard for him. It was justice, not a slaughter of the innocent and vulnerable – which was maybe more than he could handle when he first started doing it. Then, maybe, he kept doing it because it worked. It numbed his pain." Angela returned her attention to their faces, and found they were nodding.
"That's a hell of a price to pay for an analgesic," Margot mused.
"Margot, don't cuss," Bobbi Jo said, worried. Margot put up an apologetic surrender of her hands.
"Sorry," Margot smiled sheepishly.
"Yeah, Angela, I see where you're coming from," Emily said quietly. "When I was in prep school, some of the girls were really mean because I was so skinny. I started thinking they were right, and that I deserved to be called an 'ugly boy'." All the women furrowed their brows, not understanding. "…I didn't even go to our spring ball my senior year, because I was convinced no boy would think I was attractive." She looked down. "It was really confusing. I still have a hard time with it…" Emily looked at Angela. "I just turned down a date the other day because I was sure he'd come to his senses eventually, and that realization would be more than I could handle…" She gave a flat-mouthed smile and shrugged. "But yeah - maybe that's just easier than looking at myself ten years ago and saying those girls were-"
"Don't say it!" Margot smiled ruefully. "We know what they were." All the ladies laughed.
Christy looked at Emily, and spoke seriously. "You didn't deserve that. They were wrong. You're just beautiful." Angela was a little surprised such a compliment could mean anything to a woman as pretty as Emily. But Emily just kept looking at Christy, and Angela noticed Emily's chin was shaking a little. After a few seconds, Emily took a big breath, and looked down. Swiping her eyes with her sleeve, Emily sniffed and looked back up.
"Thanks, Christy," Emily said softly.
Christy patted her hand and nodded. She smiled and turned to speak louder to everyone in the group. "So, Nikolai's not a nut case. Agreed?"
"Agreed," all the ladies said, nodding enthusiastically.
They finished their conversation for the evening, and left the café in a giggling huddle. Angela was still smiling as she dropped her keys in her purse just inside her apartment door. She walked over to the couch and plopped down lengthwise. Tucking her bare feet under a throw blanket, she leaned back on the armrest and looked out the window to the night sky.
So, Ben. It looks like I need to believe lies because it hurts. But let's say I don't want to anymore. Is it going to be bad, getting through this? If it hurt too much the first time to deal with it, I don't know that I'm ready to face it now, either.
Angela remembered Ben telling her everyone was meant for great things. She thought about Skip teaching her to voluntarily give the best to the most vulnerable people in her world. She thought about how ridiculous it seemed for someone like Emily to not feel good enough. And then she started to think she'd had it wrong. It still felt like she was right; it still felt like some people were more entitled to good things than others. But that didn't sit right with her. If that were true, who decides who's good enough? Where's the line, Ben? …What if there's not one?
Angela took a few minutes, just looking up at the stars and thinking how nice it was to have friends. Finally, she yawned and made her way to bed. I love hanging out with them and Dostoyevsky's incredible, but this is starting to feel like Route 148. I've got a lot of reading to do for my classes tomorrow. Angela prepped herself for the next day, laying out all the things she'd need for hours in class and at the library.
Angela spent the next few days burrowing into her studies. And it was important to her that she keep up her running for both her mental and physical health. She was okay to squirrel away, and not have a deep conversation with anyone for days. She was busy. She was productive. She was…happy? Well, she was steady and comfortable - like she was walking through Bloomindale's after Greg squashed her. Okaaayy. So maybe that's kind of like Nikolai. But I really do have work to do. I have classes, and homework, and I need to keep fit. All that takes a lot of time!
Her telephone rang as she walked into her apartment that Wednesday afternoon. She dumped her books on the table, and picked up the phone.
"Hi, Angela. It's Emily."
"Oh, hi!" Why am I nervous?
"Hey! So, I was wondering if you wanted to go shopping on Newbury Street tomorrow afternoon? I'm feeling in the mood to buy something pretty."
Angela smiled wide, but she was still nervous. "Absolutely." She lied. "And I'm glad," she said truthfully.
"Yeah. Alright, well, I'll see you tomorrow."
"See you then!" Angela said, smiling.
Angela breathed out a sharp puff of air. I feel fake. I don't like that. What's my problem? All these women are so nice to me, and I like hanging out with them. Why do I have this pull to stay away?
Nikolai.
That hit he got when he confirmed all he thought about himself… So, if I don't want to believe lies anymore, I…hang out with friends anyway? Even if I don't believe it yet? Maybe my experiences will prove my beliefs wrong? I always feel better when I'm with them. It's just… gearing up for it feels like I'm psyching myself out for a run when I don't want to go. It must be costing me something. But what? I like it – a lot better than running, I might add. So, what is it costing me to hang out with them? Time? Yeah, but I'd take time off to relax a little anyway. Why not with someone else?
Someone else. So that's it… I'm only myself when I'm alone - because I'm trying to keep up the pretense and that's a lot of pressure - huh, Nikolai? I'm still trying to keep them liking me. Hmm. I wonder what would happen if I didn't? Suddenly, Angela was curious.
