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There were six floors, and the fourth was solely hers (there were also guest rooms but I got the impression they weren’t used much). We lounged on the fifth for a while, lazily swimming in circles in the giant indoor pool. At one am, Hannah announced that we were going to watch a movie, so we took the elevator (yes, a private one) down to the cellar, where there was an entire, freaking, viewing room. It was, of course, next to the wine cellar, but I declined the drink that was offered to me. Curious about the noises of people coming from the farther end of the hallway we’d emerged in, I asked Hannah.
“Oh, that’s just the housekeeper and maids. We pay them and everything, but Dad also likes providing accommodation if they need it. Says it creates a ‘mutual understanding of respect’. They have half of this floor to themselves, and full use of the facilities in the house. I think Dad likes having bodies to fill the space, and couldn’t ever get over the idea of having people to do everything he usually does. Most of the ones that actually stay here are single or students or hard on their luck or something.”
She said it nonchalantly enough that I was left gawking. If I had been given the opportunity to live and work in a place like this, I definitely would have taken it. I felt like an imposter, parading around as a friend instead of the help. Hannah turned on a movie while I pondered her existence. It was something with Antonio Banderas in it, all I remembered later was that it wasn’tThe Mask of Zorro. Hannah looked comfortable here. All the stiff walls she put up around herself at university, with her raised nose and shrewd gaze that had most people avoiding her, were gone. She was curled up, wearing sweatpants, a t-shirt, and an old hoodie, with her usually perfect sleek black hair pulled back into a messy bun, strands that were too short escaped from it. Her eyes were glued to the TV screen, and I tried to make mine do the same, but something was itching under my skin.
“It’s my wealth, isn’t it?” she asked suddenly.
“What?” I responded.
“You’re staring. You’re freaked out, right?” Hannah sighed and paused the movie. “People find out about the money and then they either get freaked out and run the other way because they think I’m so high-class that I’m going to be a snob, or they start trying to get stuff out of me.”
“Hannah…”
“I was going to tell you before the party! I just wanted time to prepare, and then you were in trouble, and you called me, and I thought ‘hey, this girl is pretty cool, I can see her not taking the whole thing too seriously!’ I guess I was wrong.”
She pouted, obviously worked up about her own assumptions of me.
“Hannah!” I finally said firmly, “I’m not running off, and I’m not asking you for anything! Actually, I was just thinking that you looked really comfortable, and it’s nice to see. Like, I know you play at being all relaxed and everything at college, but you actually look totally content here. And I sure as hell know you aren’t going to be a snob, because you saw my studio that would probably fit twice into your kitchen alone, and gave me more crap about whether I liked the latest episode ofGray’s Anatomy. I’ll admit though, I was wondering how someone with this much wealthisn’ta little snobby andisn’tjudging my own, poor-ass lifestyle.”
My friend sighed and finally looked up at me. Her eyes were a clear blue, intensified by the artificial light blaring from the screen in front of us.
“Oh,” she said, smiling again, “that’s easy. We didn’t have any money when I was a kid. My mom was a nurse, and my dad was a small-time graphic designer. We had enough to pay the bills.” Her smile faltered, but she pasted it back on. “After—after what happened with my mom, we got a huge payout from the trucking company. Dad poured some of it into his business, trying to get it to take off, I guess. It worked, really,reallywell. Now he makes a ton of money from designing websites and logos and all sorts of stuff around the world, and… yeah, that’s about it. I went to a private school, but it’s not as snobby or whatever as you’d think. Most kids with a lot of money just want the same stuff as kids without a lot of money—love, attention, and a pony. Difference is, they get the pony.”
I thought about this. I never realized that Hannah’s mother dying was the thing that had made them rich. It was surreal to me. The death of my own mother had done the opposite. It had drained our bank accounts and made me call in favors I thought I’d never have to ask for. The simple act of putting her in the ground had almost guaranteed I’d never go to college. I thought of my father again, back before things were really bad, telling me that sometimes we had to make those sacrifices for the people we loved.
Of course, then he told me her death was my fault and drowned the memory in a bottle.
“Huh,” I finally said to Hannah, “I never knew.”
“I don’t really shout about it,” Hannah said, playing the movie again.
I turned my eyes to the screen, not taking in the movie, but instead considering the new point of view that had been offered to me.
* * *
On the afternoon of the 24th, I nearly had a panic attack.
I had less than five hours before I had to be at Hannah’s, and I hadnothingto wear. My entire wardrobe was made up of the smart but basic clothes I wore to college and the comfortable ones I wore at home. When I left Oregon, I hadn’t exactly planned for fancy dinner parties with my new best friend’s father and his business associates.
“Hannah?” I said on the phone to her that afternoon, “what the hell do Ido?”
“Come on over, you can borrow something of mine.”
I sighed, wondering what kind of clothing she’d put me in. I grabbed my backpack and stuffed a pair of faithful flats in it, just in case her idea of what I should wear involved a pair of painful heels. I took one look at myself in the mirror and wondered what she could possibly do to make me look presentable. My hair almost reached my waist and was long overdue for a trim. The ends were a little ratty from lack of care and spending too much time in buns. My eyes were tired, dark rings from late nights of work and studying fell under them and they were the kind of brown I’d never been partial to. My clavicles stuck out a little more than I’d like, making my chest look even smaller than it was. I honestly had no idea how Hannah would make me presentable for her father and his friends, but I had to hope, pray, and put my faith in Hannah.
Hannah’s house, as usual, looked amazing. It was spotlessly clean, and I strode in through the entryway, still not sure where to go. A maid, wearing a plain housekeeping dress, passed and smiled at me.
“You must be Miss Stearns,” she said, bowing slightly. “Miss Brooks is waiting for you on the fourth floor.”
“Thank you,” I replied quietly, and then she was on her way.
I went over to the elevator and pressed the button for Hannah’s floor. It went up slowly, and I braced myself for an evening spent amongst luxury that made me uncomfortable. This was only the second time I had been to her house, and the shiny wealth being flaunted around me didn’t feel anymore familiar this time.
“Evelyn!” Hannah called, meeting me at the elevator doors. “I’m glad you made it!”
She dragged me into her dressing room. It had originally been another guest room but had been transformed since there wasn’t a walk-in closet on her floor. Hannah herself was still wearing a robe, but her hair was pinned up on one side with a comb that had a row of tiny pearls along it, and her eyes had been outlined with a dark shadow that made their blueness pop. Her gaze was intensified by it, and I couldn’t help but remember equally intense blue eyes. I had managed to move on from that night. The darkness left within me had faded, swallowed by those eyes haunting my dreams. I told myself that it was ridiculous to be attracted to a man I would never see again, and when I woke up in the night, the need to see him thrumming through my veins, I tried to put him out of my head. I really did try. And my friend was here, with similar eyes, and I had to tell myself that it was all in my head and that if I was going to see his face every time I looked at someone with blue eyes, that was going to make life very difficult.
“Right,” Hannah said matter-of-factly, “So I’m going to need you to look amazing tonight.”
