Stone Cold Fox (7)
“No, I just—” she carried on, despite looking positively obsessed with me. “I just found it a little weird, that’s all. Like you said, Duke has a close community as well. You know, like we do.”
“We don’t know everyone from our graduating class, Gale,” Collin said, a soft attempt at standing up for me, but an attempt nonetheless.
“Sure, maybe not personally, but through chatter. Though Duke could be very different. Sometimes I think everyone’s university experience must have been like ours, when that’s probably not the case.” Gale smiled at me as if I were a peasant. She was very good at this, commendable, but I could be better.
“I’m sure there are plenty of differences, and not just in the geography. Duke has a national sports presence, for example.” I winked at the men slyly, believing they would enjoy a basketball reference from the beautiful woman at the table, but it seemed to go over their heads. Did they have any interests outside of their stock portfolios? For all its fortunes and finery, this blue-blooded bubble I was trying to burst into also seemed rather dim at times. I surmised we would not be gathering for a March Madness tournament viewing anytime in the future. Fine by me. One less thing to pretend to care about.
“I will say that it does seem crazy how a guy on campus could not know you. I mean, look at you!” Collin admired me openly, and I basked in it, taking the opportunity to extrapolate on his very well-made point.
“Okay. I didn’t want to say anything, but I actually was known for being something of a pageant queen. Cotillions and deb balls and all that hullabaloo when I was young. I know it’s all so silly in the grand scheme of things, though I had a good time.” Gale openly snickered at me as I spoke of such nonsense. No matter. Truthfully, I wish I could have done the same, but I had to stick to my script. “But anyway, Gale, it’s possible your new companion didn’t admit knowing me to spare your feelings. You know how men are—they always think the worst of us, as if we’re all jealous crows. So tell us more about him. What’s his name?” I was beginning to enjoy the bandying between us.
“L-lu—” she stammered, racking her brain, unable to roll anything off her tongue, ill-prepared for cross-examination. “Luke Dunne.”
Oh, for God’s sake, she might as well have said George Glass. Faltering so soon? Tsk-tsk.
“Luke from Duke.” I smiled, baring my teeth. If she was interested in creating such a dynamic, I would gladly assume the role of a predator, too. “It doesn’t ring a bell, but I look forward to meeting him in person soon so we can reminisce about campus life.”
The bar trivia began before Gale could get another word in, and the group took it quite seriously, so there would be no more time for barbs or banter when we’d all have to be paying close attention to the emcee. They were fierce competitors—the Bulging Veritaffles, an inside Harvard joke I didn’t really care to have explained to me—all pretending to be in it for the glory and the comped round of Jameson shots, but I suspected it must have been a superiority thing. The rest of the crowd in the bar looked just like them, more or less, all young adults looking to blow off some steam after work with their buddies in a dark bar, but I knew that was not the case for Collin and his friends. The majority of the others would ultimately go home to undesirable roommates in small apartments that cost small fortunes, at least a healthy percentage of their monthly take-home pay, a futile attempt at building a sustainable life in a city they couldn’t actually afford and would probably never be able to without lifelong sacrifice.
Collin and company would never know anything about that.
As the night came to a close, I excused myself to the restroom so Collin would get a chance to receive instant feedback about my performance and appearance, but it was also an unsaid extended invitation to Gale Wallace-Leicester to join me, if she dared. I stood in front of the mirror, finally shedding the phony smile, my face at rest. I rolled my head from side to side slowly, loosening my neck, at long last able to relax.
And I waited.
Waited for her.
I should have kept Gale at arm’s length. Even after I had proved myself in possession of a brain that evening, in addition to my beauty, it was quite clear she would never welcome my presence, since she loved Collin. I could never really gain her affection. I could keep an eye on the situation as it pertained to Collin, since his opinion of me was what truly mattered to get what I wanted, but still, I yearned to fan the flames with Gale for the sake of the fire in me.
I was competitive by nature, and a worthy adversary would certainly lighten up my day-to-day. Unlike Collin’s friends, I had no interest in competing against people beneath me for a quick hit of feeling superior, much less with the stakes as low and meaningless as bar trivia. No, I craved something I could really chew on. Some pleasure for pleasure’s sake. I didn’t believe she could really jeopardize anything I had with Collin, but it would be amusing to watch her try.
Perhaps Gale Wallace-Leicester could whet my appetite for fun.
I gazed at myself in the mirror, taken aback by the pronounced venom in my eyes at the thought. Large and round in front of everybody else, they took on Mother’s shape in private moments like these. Our shape. At rest, the eyelids lounged just a little bit lower, hovering delicately above a bright blue iris. “RBF” at its absolute finest, particularly when prey was in sight. I admit my desire to find trouble for trouble’s sake was not my most sterling personality trait, but some urges I could not suppress so easily. They were inherited from her. It was a near-constant battle in my mind—be good or have a good time—but perhaps this one with Gale would be for naught. Maybe she wouldn’t show after all, staying behind with the rest of the women to deliver subtle derision of me behind my back like normal people, relieving me from my propensity to sin.