Genesis Girl (Blank Slate #1) - Jennifer Bardsley Page 0,37
half-smiles again, and her heart-shaped face returns to a perfect mask of grace.
“Sorry, ladies.” Cal tugs at his collar. “It’s a great day for making solar power but a bad day for wearing a tux.”
“I don’t mind the heat,” says Ms. Lydia, gracious as always. “Besides, I can already feel the air-conditioning working on overdrive.” She points down to her ankle, and we can see the white silk of her dress flutter upward from the vent, exposing part of her leg.
“Nice view,” says Cal.
Ms. Lydia looks at him sharply. But then her expression changes and becomes thoughtful. A few seconds too late, she laughs. It’s a soft, silver laugh that sounds like she was saving it for a special occasion. It’s a genuine laugh. I can tell. And I realize I’ve never heard Ms. Lydia laugh for real before. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her authentic smile either, like the one she’s wearing now.
“I’m so glad you said yes,” Cal says to Ms. Lydia. “I didn’t feel right about sending Blanca off to meet a young man that I had never met myself.”
“Of course, Calum,” says Ms. Lydia. “That’s only prudent.”
“And now,” Cal continues, “I get the pleasure of not only escorting one but two beautiful ladies out tonight.” His sun-lined face gazes at Ms. Lydia in awe.
If it weren’t so totally ridiculous, I’d wonder if Cal was flirting with her.
Ms. Lydia flushes. “Usually I go to these things solo.”
“Not tonight.” Cal picks up her hand and kisses it.
Ms. Lydia blushes a deeper shade of red and pulls her hand away. Her face is prettier than ever. I wonder why I thought she was over forty.
“What do you think, Blanca?” Cal pats my knee. “Are you excited to meet Soap-boy?” He uses that obnoxious nickname the Virus coined.
“His name is Trevor.” Ms. Lydia giggles. “And Blanca’s going to adore him.”
Trevor? I remember Trevor! Ms. Lydia has never said his name before. But I know all about Trevor. He’s a few years older than me and absolutely magnificent. Blond hair, blue eyes, and a smile that makes you melt. Back at Tabula Rasa he never gave me the time of day, probably because I was younger than him, but things will be different now.
“Okay, Trevor,” Cal says. “Not Soap-boy. I’ll try to keep that straight.”
“Please do,” says Ms. Lydia.
“But you remember, Blanca,” Cal says, suddenly serious. “You get to choose, okay? You don’t have to be with Trevor if you don’t want to.”
“Yes, Cal. Of course, Cal,” I say, slipping up again. He hates it when I agree with him like that. But Cal doesn’t correct me this time. He picks up my hand in his and holds on to it tight.
My alma mater is a fortress of secrecy and protection. Alan drives the limo down the ramp to the Tabula Rasa underground lot, and the whole car goes dark. Security won’t let Alan past the gate, but when they see Ms. Lydia, they allow her, Cal, and me to walk into the compound on foot.
As soon as I step on Tabula Rasa ground, my eyes go wet. I’m flooded with feeling. It’s been so hard to be special.
Everything I do. Everything I say. Out there in the real world I have to watch myself. I have been living my life through a filter. What will Cal think? What will the Virus think? It’s exhausting.
Being a Vestal is something I’m proud of every second of my life. I don’t want to hide who I am, but it’s hard. I’m elite, but I don’t want to appear elitist.
Now I’m home with my friends, and for one sweet evening, I can be unguarded.
Ms. Lydia takes us up the faculty elevator, the one you need a key to operate. I’ve only ridden in it once before, that time Ms. Lydia brought me to speak with Headmaster Russell about my stolen picture.
“I’m surprised you have elevators,” Cal remarks. “I thought we’d be walking up stairs.”
“We’re not Amish!” says Ms. Lydia with a teasing smile.
“I hope not.” Cal coughs. Here at Tabula Rasa, his tanned skin seems exotic. “Do purchasers usually come to these functions?”