The next week didn’t prove to be any different, except for rumours flying around about Nick’s latest conquests that weekend. Of course he would go out and finally get laid after a month of not getting any. He was entitled to that. What he was not entitled to, was still pestering me to forgive him and get back together with him, while hooking up with other girls. It was like I had wandered into an episode of the Twilight Zone and suddenly my moral compass seemed to be off. Well, I thought it was everyone else’s compass that needed tuning. And as soon as I got out of this town, I would be vindicated.
After running away from a little gang of cheerleader-type girls who looked menacingly at me, I found myself around the upstairs changing rooms and indoor workout gym. I had rarely come up here and was about to turn around and try to sneak by the girl gang, when I heard Will’s voice in conversation with another two guys’ voices come floating down the hallway saying, “Gemma’s still off-limits, you know that. Nick is trying to get back in with her.”
“That’s not fair. They broke up. She should be fair game,” a deep voice, which I couldn’t place, answered.
“Well, she’s not,” Will snapped.
“Yesterday afternoon, I overheard Foltz saying that Cameron would make a move on her next time he saw her,” a third voice spoke.
I could picture Will’s expression, because he always pulled the same face when he gave a withering sigh. “And he’ll suffer for it. Have you seen Nick recently? He’s gone off the handle, I’ve never heard him talk about a girl this much before. I swear he’ll beat up any guy who looks at her too long.”
Brilliant, just brilliant. Nick was threatening all the guys to stay away from me, and spreading rumours and lies about me to get the girls to despise me. Didn’t they have televisions to watch to keep them entertained? Books to read? Cars to crash? I walked down the stairs in a blind rage, not seeing anyone who I passed. I had stayed at school late and would have to walk home, but time flies by when you’re seething.
I stormed into the house and yanked the door shut. Mum, Dad, and Jack sat in the sitting room having tea.
“Hello, darling, how are you?” Mum called.
“Damn this goddamn town and the damn people in it!” I shouted. “Their fake smiles plastered all over their faces, their inability to see anything in a different way, and their fucking insincere cheeriness!”
“Now look here, young lady–“ Dad began.
“No! I don’t care if I’m insulting your precious townsmen! They are making me miserable, so I’ll insult them all I want! You’re the one that dragged us off to this dump of a place! Do you care that none of us are happy besides you? Do you even see that? Of course not! But newsflash: all of us want to go back to England, however hard we try to pretend to like it here to please you!” Dad sat there with a stunned expression on his face. I stormed off up the stairs, slamming my door, but I could still hear their conversation, because this house had paper-thin walls. Why do American houses have such thin walls?
“Jack?” Mum asked, a bit shaken. “What’s wrong with Gemma?”
“She had a bad day. Preceded by a bad two months. She doesn’t really– fit in here and people don’t like that she’s different.”
“I told you two to stick to English in school,” Dad said.
I could hear the glare Jack shot at our father in his voice. “It’s got nothing to do with English or French, Dad. It has to do with the fact that everyone here is shallow and superficial and they’re trying to get Gemma to be the same way, or at least hide the fact that she’s any different, and she’s not having any of it. And she’s now being ostracised because its the crowd we are mixed in with which is the popular crowd that you were so proud of, that are the worst of them all. And if you knew exactly why she was being ostracised, you would be right behind her. But she was right, Dad. Don’t fool yourself that any of us are happy here, we’re just here for you. We can’t wait to get back to England at the end of this year.”
“Jack, that’s quite enough,” Mum scolded.
“It’s the truth!”
“Your father has heard it once today, I doubt twice is necessary.”
“Is that really the truth, Genevieve?” Dad asked Mum.
“We are here for one year, David. We plan to make the best of it. Speaking of homesickness will not improve anything.”
“So it’s true. You want to go back to England after the one year?”
Mum looked at Dad, alarm in her voice. “That was the agreement, David. I have no intention of spending any more time in this place.”
“So the children were telling the truth. You all hate it here.”
“If you must know, I would not call it hatred, but dislike is quite prominently present.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this before?”
“Oh, David, what good would that have done? You love it here. We agreed to come here for one year. I will not ruin that year for you by moping about and voicing my displeasure.”
“I was hoping you would like it here and consider staying. The children would do well to go to American colleges and we could be nearer to them.”
Jack and Genevieve simultaneously voiced alarm. “David, I have, and always did have, every intention of returning to Europe after this year.”
“And we have no intention of going to university here in America, Dad. We applied to make you happy, but we never seriously considered it. Gem is going to LSE, she’d be mad not to. And I’m going to the Sorbonne. That’s where we always wanted to go.”
The family dwelled upon this for the rest of the day. At dinner, it was suggested that we get away for the Thanksgiving break and go to New York for a week. I readily agreed, as did Jack, and so it was decided.