Beebo Brinker Chronicles 1 - Odd Girl Out (20 page)

"Just don't sneeze,” said Beth.

The buzzer sounded and Emmy said, “Oh, there's Bud!” and scampered down the stairs.

Laura watched her go a little spitefully. The thought that Emmy had brought Charlie and Beth together again still rankled inside her. Her sense told her it would have happened anyway; her heart told her it was Emmy's fault. She said to Beth, “Emmy has a pretty figure, doesn't she?"

"Oh, Emmy has a beautiful figure.” That was enough to make Laura hate it. She was even jealous of Emmy. Emmy and Beth were such good friends, Emmy was so pretty, Laura so plain. When Beth and Emmy laughed or talked to each other she found it irritating in the extreme. And yet she knew nothing could be less likely than erotic intimacies between them, and during the span of quiet rational daytime hours she calmed herself, combed out her snarled affections and sprayed them with logic so they might last smoothly through the evening.

After Emmy went out Mary Lou came in to talk to Beth.

"Hi, Mrs. Mitchell Grogan,” said Beth with a grin. “When are you going out?

Laura looked up from the couch, and Mary Lou laughed and said, “Oh, Mitch is coming over around eight. Say, Beth—” She grew suddenly serious. “Did you talk to Emmy?"

Beth felt a guilty pang shoot through her. “Why? Is something wrong?"

"Well—no, not really. But I just don't like it when she wears such a revealing costume to a big dance. I didn't know it was going to be that bare or I would have told her myself."

"None of us saw it before tonight, Mary Lou. In fact she finished it only this afternoon."

"Well, I didn't see it till just now or I'd've stopped her. But—what can you do?” She wrinkled her brow and sighed. “Bud came, and she was all ready to go out. Everybody stands around approving and it's the night of the party. I can't order her not to wear the thing. But I wish she'd use her head. I've been worried about her for months."

It made Beth feel rather nervously defensive. “She's been behaving herself,” she said. “She doesn't act up in public."

"Oh, Beth, I've seen her so full of beer at parties—"

"That's just a big act, Mary Lou. Most of it."

"Well, not all of it. I've seen her drink the beer."

"She doesn't drink too much—just likes a good time."

"I'll say she likes a good time. Remember that afternoon at Maxie's when she was kissing Bud?"

"Oh, hell. Everybody kisses everybody at Maxie's."

"Yes, but not up on the bandstand. And not like Bud was kissing Emmy."

"Oh, Mary Lou, don't worry about her. You'd be surprised how sensible she can be."

"I certainly would."

Beth laughed and said, “Oh, come on. Don't worry. I'll answer for her."

"Okay, if you'll talk to her again. If you don't, I will."

"I will, Mary Lou.” Bud was a party boy, and Beth knew it. He liked to whoop it up and he expected Emmy to keep up with him. He expected, in fact, quite a lot of Emmy, and Emmy wouldn't disappoint him. But she tried to make him play the game her way; he had to stay within certain bounds, and the bounds were simply discretion, meaning privacy. Unfortunately, the bounds became hazy and Bud began to step over them now and again.

Bud and Emmy hadn't gone to the dance directly, it turned out. They went to a party where beer flowed, spirits rose, and time wandered by unmarked. At a quarter of midnight someone shouted, “My God! The dance!"

They scrambled out and into their cars and made it over to the house five minutes before the orchestra packed up to leave. They were welcomed with a cheer and the girls surrendered their left-over costume material to a committee of judges, which, after a thirty-second squabble, gallantly pronounced Emily the winner.

Amidst the uproar following, Bud picked Emmy up by the waist and lifted her over his head. Flashbulbs flowered around them. He let her down again and she was giggling helplessly, clinging to him for support.

"Hey, pick her up again!” someone shouted. “Nielsen! Hey, boy, ya hear me? Pick her up again!"

"No!” said Emily, clutching Bud.

"Hey, we want another picture. Once more. Come on, Emmy!"

"No!"

"Emmy, you're chicken!"

"Hey, come on, Em,” Bud said. “It won't hurt you."

"No, I won't do it. I don't want them to take pictures."

Bud dug his fingers into her ribs and she screamed and laughed, wriggling to be free. With a wretched disregard for discretion the top of her costume suddenly split open, and the evening took an unexpected saturnalian turn. Emmy gasped and covered her dazzling front with her arms and whirled to face Bud, who was laughing as he had never laughed before. He took her in his arms and the general hilarity got them both. Everyone shouted at Emmy to turn around again and somebody finally rescued her with a leather jacket, tossed over the heads of the crowd. The others booed the rescuer.

Bud reached out and caught the sailing jacket and Emily cried, “Oh, Bud, don't let me go!” and everybody cheered. When she had the thing safely on she went to the powder room and got her coat and wrapped herself securely in thick gray wool. She was indisputably the queen of the evening, and in spite of her embarrassment she was so roundly and good-naturedly flattered that the accident didn't seem like quite such a calamity.

Several of the girls who convoyed her to and from the powder room were Alpha Betas. They were laughing because the atmosphere of laughter was irresistible, but they knew, and Emmy knew, that there would be trouble.

"Well,” said Emmy, “I certainly didn't do it on purpose. Nobody could say that."

"I hate to think what Mary Lou's going to say,” said one of the Alpha Betas. “We can't possibly keep it a secret. Everybody'll be talking about it."

Emmy said in alarm, “Do you think they got any pictures of it?"

"Oh, my God! I hope not!"

"I don't think so,” said another girl. “You turned around so fast. I don't think anybody had time."

"Well, pictures or no, Em, you're going to have to explain it somehow."

Emmy shrugged. “My costume broke, that's all. Heavens, it was double stitched. I don't know how it could have happened."

"Maybe you were sabotaged."

"What?"

"Maybe somebody cut the threads."

Emmy laughed, but she disallowed the suggestion.

She got home at closing hours, and ran breathless up to the room. Beth was just undressing and Laura was still up. Emmy came in laughing and threw herself down on the couch. Beth shut the door hastily and ran to her.

"Emmy!” she said, and Emmy laughed even harder. Beth had to laugh with her, while Laura remained disdainfully aloof. “Emmy, what happened? Tell me."

Emmy sat up slowly and said theatrically, “Look,” and unbuttoned her coat. Laura gasped, and Beth stared wide-eyed at her for a minute and then she began to laugh.

"Oh, Emmy,” she exclaimed when she could catch her breath. “My God, it broke!"

Laura watched their laughter, properly disapproving. Finally Beth began to get serious.

"Emmy, what happened?” she said. “Was it bad?"

"Oh—” Emmy slowed down a little. “It was just one of those things.” She giggled again. “Bud was tickling me—Oh, guess what? I won first prize!"

Beth had to chuckle at her again. She threw her hands up and slapped her knees. “Emmy, you're impossible!” she said. “Okay, now be serious. What happened?"

"Well, it just ripped, that's all."

"With how many people gaping at you?"

"I don't know. Oh, I grabbed it, of course. I turned right around and Bud held me so nobody could see."

"After everybody saw."

"Well, Beth, I couldn't help it,” Emmy protested, laughing again. “Oh, I was horribly embarrassed. But it was so funny!"

The door snapped open and Mary Lou bristled in. She shut the door after her and leaned on it.

"Emmy...” she said and paused, her face solemn. “What happened?"

Emmy stood up, still smiling. “Oh, it wasn't so awful, Mary Lou. It was just an accident."

"Well, I want to know just exactly what happened. Everybody's talking about it, Emmy. It'll be all over the campus by tomorrow. Now tell me.” Her voice trembled with indignation and she was pale and earnest. She found no humor in the situation at all. It was a social fiasco that reflected directly on the good name of Alpha Beta.

"Well, I won first prize for my costume and everybody was sort of cheering and teasing me while they took pictures, and Bud tickled me and I sort of—jerked away from him, and the bra broke. That's all. I couldn't help it, Mary Lou. I didn't do it on purpose."

"They took pictures?” Mary Lou looked stricken, and Beth watched her with a worried frown. Anybody could have pleaded Emmy's case better than Emmy pleaded it herself.

"Oh, they didn't take pictures of that. I mean, I'm sure they didn't. Oh, Mary Lou, don't look so grim! You frighten me.” She laughed, but Mary Lou didn't even smile.

"Emmy, we're going to have a talk about this. You and me and Sarah and Bobbie.” They were the ranking house officers; Bobbie was one of Emmy's good friends.

"Mary Lou, you act as if you thought I did this on purpose. I'd never do such a thing."

"The house is in for a lot of bad publicity about this, Emmy. We have to agree on something to say. The dean is going to want to see you, and so are the alumnae."

Emmy sobered up suddenly. “Oh, no,” she said. “Do you really think so? But it was just an accident."

"Be in my room tomorrow morning at nine,” said Mary Lou. “And don't talk to anybody about it before then."

"Okay,” said Emmy, and Mary Lou went out, leaving her honestly worried.

"Gee, Beth,” Emmy said, turning anxious eyes on her. “What'll they do to me?"

"I don't know, Em. Depends on how it goes over on campus, I guess. Don't worry, Emmy, it wasn't your fault.” Beth felt the weight of a new blame on her shoulders. She had failed both Emmy and Mary Lou. She could have warned Emmy to slow down, if she'd only had the eyes to see how fast she was going, if she'd only remembered Mary Lou's warning. But she had been too engrossed in her strange little triangle. Emmy was outside that triangle, so Emmy's troubles didn't count. Nobody had troubles but Beth Cullison, and now Beth was ashamed of her selfishness.

Beth wanted to go with Emmy to the meeting the next morning, but Mary Lou said no. So it was Mary Lou, Sarah, who was vice president, and Bobbie, who was secretary, who faced Emmy that morning.

Mary Lou, with her customary unbudging justice, and Sarah, who usually agreed with her, thought Emily and Bud should shake hands and call it quits. The dean had called and arranged a conference with Emily. The incident was in the town papers and the campus was having a good laugh. The faculty and the alumnae of Alpha Beta were furious. Emmy began to feel a little desperate.

"Can anyone possibly think I did it on purpose?” she said.

"Look, Emmy,” said Mary Lou. “We know you didn't do it on purpose. That isn't the point. The point is that it happened and it happened to you. And you were very drunk and very bare and in mixed company at the time. Nobody's saying you deliberately undressed in public, but if you'd been willing to wear a little more costume in the first place this wouldn't have happened at all. And this came on top of four months of a pretty hot romance that everybody's been talking about. You just haven't been too careful, Emily. You just haven't cared very much about anything but yourself and Bud."

"But I have, Mary Lou."

"You've completely ignored your obligations to the university and the sorority. You've disgraced us all and it could have been prevented."

"I don't see—” Emmy was near tears.

"It could have, Emmy, if you hadn't insisted on being the barest girl at the party. If you hadn't gone out and gotten drunk."

"I wasn't the only one—"

"If you hadn't led Bud to expect that he could treat you—” she cast about for a word—"promiscuously in public and get away with it."

"It wasn't promiscuous. He was just tickling me. I mean—heavens, it was just—” She stopped, sensing that her own words did her a disservice.

"Well, just what kind of behavior do you think that is, Emmy—proper? What do you think a man thinks of when he sees a girl squirming and wriggling in practically no clothes at all?"

"I didn't ask him to tickle me, Mary Lou."

"Yes you did, Emmy. Don't you see? For the past four months you've been letting him tickle you; you just never told him not to. You let him do it and you let him know you like it. What more do you have to do for a man? Spell it for him?"

Emmy hung her head.

"Emily,” said Mary Lou and her voice grew kind again. “I'm not trying to hurt you. Believe me, I'm not. I'm trying to do what I can for the sorority. And it, as a whole, is more important right now than the individual, because it's within the power of an individual to do the whole group a harm, to punish everybody for her one mistake. Well, we have to correct that mistake. We can't let everyone point at Alpha Beta and laugh because one Alpha Beta did something wrong. That one Alpha Beta has to correct the error. It's simple logic, and its only fair."

Emmy rubbed her head. Simple logic was the hardest kind for her. It always struck her as being inarguable and senseless at the same time. She was awed by it.

Mary Lou sighed and ditched her cigarette. “Emmy, it's up to you. I don't want to impose any useless detention on you. I don't even want to campus you. You'll see the dean; you'll talk it over. I know you'll be sensible about it."

"What can I do?” said Emmy.

"Well...” Mary Lou looked around at the others and then sighed and looked back at Emily. “Em, I know you're terribly fond of Bud. I guess that's been the cause of the difficulty, really."

Emmy nodded. It seemed as if Mary Lou was beginning to understand her now and wanted to help her; it gave her a false sense of security.

"And I know too, how much affection you have for the sorority, for the university..."

Emmy nodded fervently again.

"Well, somehow the two just don't seem compatible. I know it's hard, Emmy..."

Emmy didn't get it at all for a minute.

"But—I think we have to take a positive step right now. Undo the wrong, sort of..."