she hadn’t known the whole story about what happened back at NYU anyway. (And whose fault was that? asked her conscience—or maybe it was Liv. Her twin had gotten pretty snarky over the years.)
“Besides, I didn’t make any enemies back in high school,” Vivien went on. “I just did my thing—I’d had enough of being in the spotlight, trust me.”
Helga shifted on her feet. Her butter-gold hair was pulled back into a professional-looking twist, and her uniform was, as always, spotless. However, there were pale shadows under her eyes, suggesting she hadn’t gotten much sleep last night. “Well, that might be your perspective, VL, but I hate to say it…there were people who didn’t like you. And some who actively disliked you.”
Even so many years later, that announcement was enough to make Vivien’s stomach drop. “Like who? Why? And even if they did, like I said, it was so long ago—who would hold a grudge that long over nothing? It had to be nothing, because I never had any conflict with anyone. I just kept my head down and tried to be unnoticed. I didn’t want people asking about Liv, or bugging me about being a star, and I definitely didn’t want friends just because they thought I was something—I don’t know—special?”
“I get it,” said Helga. “But unfortunately, that keep-to-yourself bit put some people off because they thought you thought you were too good for them.” She shrugged and held up her hands when Vivien started to reply. “I don’t agree, never did. I’m just the messenger.”
“Well, like who?” Now Vivien had to know, and her stomach felt all tight and icky again. Could that be why someone was messing with her? Because of some imagined high school slight?
“Well, there was Melody Carlson, of course,” Helga said, causing Vivien to roll her eyes, because that one she knew about. “She was always a little difficult anyway—but her mother left them when she was in kindergarten, I think, so…” she added without looking at Vivien. “And Susie Parminster—now Susie Wallaby—who was friends with Melody, and so she obviously thought you were a bitch, just by osmosis. I think Bella Mihalek—now Pohlson—was also one of the, uh, Mean Girls, so to speak—”
“Bella? That’s my realtor—the one who sold me the theater!” Vivien exclaimed. “So she thought I was a bitch back then, did she? Well, she sure was happy enough to have my business when I took this freaking albatross off her hands.” She looked around at the theater, suddenly annoyed. Hadn’t Bella, Susie, and Melody just shown up yesterday and acted like they were old friends?
What had she ever done to cause those girls to dislike her? It wasn’t her fault she’d been sort of famous—for about a minute.
Helga looked uncomfortable, and Vivien spared a moment of sympathy for her. It might be a little awkward for her friend to share this—after all, it sounded like Helga was at least sort of friends with the “Mean Girls,” as she’d called them. At the very least, Helga was a cop in town and had to treat everyone equally and with respect.
“If she was your realtor, Bella would have known when you got the keys to the place,” Jake said. “Could be relevant to the timing of some of these incidents. And, I hate to mention it, but she also would have access to the place.”
“She seemed just fine—completely professional and really sweet and friendly during all of our interactions. She even mentioned looking up the Savage Sisters Tonys performance on YouTube so she could show her daughters,” Vivien said, wondering if everyone else in town was pretending to be nice to her—all the contractors she was hiring, the volunteers, and so on—but really had it out for her instead.
She felt her shoulders hunch, and her lungs began to feel as if they weren’t working right, like they did when an anxiety attack was coming on.
“Vivien,” Helga said in a sharpish voice probably meant to snap her out of the spiral into anxiety. “Don’t let it get to you. It was fifteen years ago, and as you said—there was nothing to any of it. I’m sure everyone has moved on. But,” she added with a meaningful look at Joe Cap, “it’s worth maybe taking a look at the vehicles belonging to certain people. Just so they can be eliminated.”
Vivien sighed. “You’re probably right.” She silently did her special breathing (in-two-three-four…) and said, “Well, were there any others? Did Baxter James hate me back