Surrender (23 page)

“Well,” Lukas said. “If it isn't the Great Unparented.”

He and Natalie met me at the top of the stairs, ready to face Parents' Night without parents. It was freezing outside, so even Lukas had resorted to a long-sleeve brown
polo over jeans, while Natalie wore her leopard-print sweater, because she liked wearing it into battle, and that's how she viewed tonight.

“I thought your parents were coming,” Natalie said.

I shrugged. “I thought so, too. Just once, it would be nice to be able to rely on them showing up.”

We stood there for a moment, looking at each other with recognition. We weren't the center of our parents' lives. And maybe that was okay.

“Don't laugh,” I said, “but I love you guys.”

So, of course, they both started cracking up.

“I said
don't
laugh.” I giggled along with them, partly from the break in the tension. “I'm serious. You're the best friends I've ever had, and … and screw them. Our parents. Screw them for being screwed up.”

“Yeah,” Natalie said. “
They're
messed up. We rock!”

“I feel like I'm at a pep rally,” Lukas said, shaking his head, but I could tell he was pleased. “Let's go meet the snobs.”

“You think their parents are going to be snobs?” I asked.

“He meant the kids,” Natalie said.

“Oh, right.” The three of us would always be something a little different, never quite fitting in. “At least there's Harry and Sara.”

“Yeah,” she said. “They're too rich to be snobs.”

I felt a little guilty for laughing, but it was kind of true. Too rich to bother snubbing anyone.

Downstairs in the foyer, we discovered Mr. and Mrs.

Stern putting on their coats. Mrs. Stern was dressed in a charcoal gray satin blouse and black pants, and Mr. Stern in a navy suit.

“You're going out?” I asked.

“It's Parents' Night, isn't it?” Mr. Stern grumbled. “Hate these things.”

“John,” Mrs. Stern said warningly.

He glanced at us apologetically. “Oh, right. Should be fun.”

“What—because you're on the board?” Natalie asked. “You don't have kids there anymore.”

Mrs. Stern wrapped a black cashmere scarf around her neck. “We have you, don't we?”

Natalie and Lukas and I all looked at each other. We had one of those mind-meld moments, when you know what your friends are thinking—because you're thinking the same thing. Maybe our parents had failed, but we had the Sterns, and that wasn't nothing.

“I hope one of you is presenting,” Mr. Stern said, breaking the short silence. “At least that breaks the tedium.”

“Trig,” I answered.

“Fencing,” Natalie murmured.

“I got stuck with Latin,” Lukas said morosely.

“Emma, you didn't get fencing?” Mr. Stern grinned. “Color me surprised.”

I smiled back, and we shuffled to the freezing garage and into their Porsche Cayenne. I sat in back between Natalie and Lukas, like a buffer zone. They were learning how to be “just friends” again, but I got the impression sometimes
they were one smoldering look away from falling off the wagon.

At least it was a short drive and I was toasty.

Then Mrs. Stern cleared her throat. “Natalie, I … I should've said something earlier, but I didn't know how to tell you.”

“Uh-oh,” Natalie said.

“You are so busted,” Lukas told her.

“I didn't
do
anything!” she said. Then, a little quieter, “I don't think.”

Mrs. Stern turned around in the front passenger seat. “I knew your mother. Before she left the Knell. We were friends.”

Natalie frowned, like she couldn't imagine her mother knowing the sleek, wealthy Mrs. Stern. “You and my mom?”

“It's a small community,” Mrs. Stern explained. “For a few years, we were very close.”

“What happened?”

Mrs. Stern put her hand on Mr. Stern's arm. “Boys.”

“You mean because my dad wouldn't let her hang with you anymore?” Natalie asked. “How could she abandon a friend for a
guy
?”

“Yeah,” Lukas said sarcastically. “What was she thinking?”

I jabbed him with my elbow and whispered, “Not about you, Lukas.”

“It's never about me,” he grumbled, but he shut up.

“We're in the parking lot, Alex,” Mr. Stern said. “If you're going to tell her, tell her now.”

Mrs. Stern bit her lip. “I haven't seen her for a long time, but … your mother may be here tonight. I called her.”

I waited for Natalie to explode, but instead she looked like a frightened deer. I couldn't remember her ever being at a loss for words. I grabbed her hand and squeezed tight.

“How could you do that?” Lukas snapped at Mrs. Stern, then turned to Natalie. “You don't have to see her. I'll walk you home.”

“Me, too,” I said. “Whatever you want.”

“I called to tell her you were with me,” Mrs. Stern told Natalie. “And how wonderful you'd turned out—how proud she should be of you. We don't know what's going to happen with Neos. I didn't want her to lose you before she saw you again. I know what that feels like.” She tried to shake away the loss of Olivia, and Mr. Stern laid a comforting hand on her thigh. “Anyway, I told her it was Parents' Night. I'm sorry if I did the wrong thing.”

“You think?” Lukas said. “After the way she treated Natalie—”

“It wasn't her,” Natalie said in a small voice. “She called the Knell to help me. Do I have to go back with her?”

“Of course not,” Mr. Stern said reassuringly. “You'll stay with us as long as you like.”

“She only wants to see you, Natalie,” Mrs. Stern said. “If you'd rather not, we'll all go home.”

“You don't have to,” I told Natalie.

She took a deep breath and told me, “You're not the only one who's tough around here.”

“You're right.” I grinned at her. “Let's go get her.”

“Emma,” Mrs. Stern cautioned.

“I mean
meet
her,” I said innocently, as Lukas fist-bumped me in the dark.

Inside Thatcher's front hall, a group of sophomore girls stood at the door, answering questions and handing out programs. The immense room was pretty at night, with the chandelier glowing, the marble floors polished, and a fire roaring in the hearth, illuminating the stairway and hanging tapestries. Gorgeous bouquets dotted the room, overshadowing the huge silk flower centerpiece, and the faint strains of classical music played, barely audible above the chatter of conversation.

Lukas made straight for the banquet table, while the Sterns mingled among the other parents. Natalie and I found a relatively quiet corner to check our names in the programs and search for her mother.

“Do you see her?” I asked, folding my program closed.

“We're scheduled at the same time,” Natalie said, ignoring my question. “We can't go to each other's presentations.”

“It's not too late to leave before she gets here.”

“I'll be nervous without you.”

“Natalie, stop avoiding the subject.”

“Maybe she won't come,” she finally said, but I couldn't tell if that would be a good thing or bad.

She scanned the crowd for her mother, and I did the same, struck again by how
eastern
everyone looked. A
bunch of rich parents in California would've looked completely different: skinnier, more casual and athletic. Instead of fake-tanning and visiting personal trainers, Thatcher parents tended more toward fine dining and art openings.

Then a woman came through the front doors, looking a little jet-lagged and a lot out of place. Her steel gray hair was fixed in a long braid down her back, and she removed a full-length brown parka, revealing a long brown skirt and boxy pink sweater. But as she spoke to the sophomore girls, the light caught her profile, and there was something familiar there.

“Is that her?” I asked, pointing.

Natalie caught her breath. “Yeah.”

“She looks … sort of sweet.”

Natalie shot me a look.

“Sorry, I didn't mean that.”

She gave me another look.

“Unless, you want me to mean it?”

Natalie let out a noise of frustration. “Let's just go talk to her.”

She grabbed my hand and dragged me through the crowd. She stopped in front of her mother, who had moved toward the fireplace, and said, “You came.”

Her mother's face seemed to crumble. “Should I not have?”

Up close, I saw she'd once been beautiful, like Natalie, but at the moment she just looked exhausted and unsure. And the usually self-confident Natalie was frowning silently at the floor.

“I don't want to embarrass you in front of your friends,” her mother said.

“
Embarrass
me?” Natalie said. “Is that what you think?”

“I don't know what to think,” her mother said in a small voice.

Natalie just shook her head, and the two of them stood there, miserable and silent.

I scanned the room, but couldn't find the Sterns or Lukas. And I shouldn't
have
to find them. This was Natalie's mother—she should be the person
helping
Natalie in an awkward situation like this, not the person who
caused
the awkwardness. And when I thought about that, I found it inexcusable. She'd sent her fantastic daughter to live with strangers, defenseless, traumatized, and alone.

Okay, maybe my feelings were partly meant for my own parents, but I was still really pissed off for Natalie. I clenched my fists, flushed and livid, and snapped at her mother. “What is
wrong
with you? How could you have sent Natalie away? Don't you know how special she is? How much she needed you? Then you show up at Parents' Night, like that's really who you are? You don't deserve to have people think you made this beautiful, strong, amazing girl.”

A few heads turned at my raised voice, but before I could continue, Max appeared at my elbow. “You'll have to forgive my sister,” he said to Natalie's mom. “She's a pit bull.”

I glared at him. “What are you doing here?”

“See what I mean?” he asked Natalie's mom.

“Shut up,” I told him.

“Mom told me to come,” he explained. “Because they're late.”

“Typical.” Though I was glad they hadn't forgotten. “Anyway, you're not exactly parental. The Sterns came—at least they're good parents.”

“Right,” he said. “That's why Bennett gets along with them so well.”

“Are you purposely goading me?”

“Yes.” He pulled me away from Natalie and her mother. “Emma, let Natalie work this out for herself.”

I glanced back at Natalie. “She needs me.”

Then Mrs. Stern slipped through the crowd and took Natalie's mother in a hug and said, “The three of us should find someplace quieter.”

I started to follow, but Max took my elbow. “Let them go.”

“I have to go with them.” Instead of subsiding, my anger had turned into agitation. I wanted to pace or scream—something just wasn't right.

“I'll handle this, Emma,” Mrs. Stern said.

“But you're not pissed off enough,” I protested.

“I am,” Lukas said, stepping around Mrs. Stern. “I'll go.”

Despite her dumping him, I knew Lukas still cared about Natalie and that he'd take care of her, so I let Max drag me to the other side of the great hall. But instead of calming down, my skin began to crawl. What I thought had been agitation over Natalie and her mother crystallized into something else.

Neos was here. Somewhere near this crowded room, amid the chatter and the clinking glasses, the cracking of the fire and the faint strains of violin, I sensed the scratchy, unearthly whisper of his wraiths.

I froze in place, drawing my power around myself like a cloak, my gaze flitting through the milling crowd, terrified I'd spot the inky tattered flesh of a wraith. I could almost taste Neos in the air, rancid and poisonous.