Big Girl

Chapter 10

Victoria met her junior and sophomore students on the second and third days of school, and she was surprised to find them much harder to deal with than the seniors. The juniors were stressed about the heavy workload they’d have that year, which would count more than any other year in their applications to colleges, and they were afraid she’d give them too much homework. And the sophomores were unfriendly and almost belligerent, and there was no harder group to teach than fifteen-year-old girls. It was everyone’s least favorite age, and Victoria’s too, with the exception of her sister Grace, who seemed nicer than most girls her age. There was a nasty quality to them, and Victoria heard two of the girls talking about her size as they left the class. They talked just loud enough for her to hear them, and she had to remind herself that they were just bratty kids, but their comments cut through her like a knife. One of the girls had referred to her as “fat;” the other one said she looked like a tank in the dress she’d worn. She took it off that night and put it in a pile to give away. She knew she wouldn’t feel comfortable wearing it again. And when she went out to the kitchen in her apartment that night, she finished off someone’s pint of Ben and Jerry’s, in a flavor she didn’t even like.

“Bad day?” Harlan asked as he walked in and made himself a cup of tea, and offered one to her.

“Yeah, sort of. Sophomore girls can be pretty nasty. I met my sophomore class for the first time today.” She looked seriously unhappy as she sat in the kitchen and sipped her tea, eating the brownies she had bought on the way home.

“It must be tough being so young, and teaching high school students who’re almost as old as you are,” he said sympathetically.

“I guess so. The seniors were pretty good actually. The younger ones were the worst so far. They’re just bitchy. And the juniors are always scared to death, because it’s the most important year before college, so they’re under a lot of pressure, from us and their parents.”

“I wouldn’t want your job,” he said, grinning ruefully. “Kids can be so tough. Standing up in front of thirty of them would do me in.”

“I don’t have a lot of experience with it yet,” Victoria admitted, “but I think I’m going to love it. My student teaching was fun, but I was assigned to freshman kids. This is pretty different, and these are very high-end kids. They’re a lot more sophisticated than the ones I did my student teaching with in Chicago. These guys are going to keep me on my toes. I just want to keep my class interesting for them. Kids that age can be very unforgiving.”

“They sound dangerous to me,” he said and pretended to shudder, and Victoria laughed.

“They’re not as bad as that,” she defended them. “They’re just kids.”

But the next day when she met with her seniors again, she was inclined to agree with Harlan. She was expecting both groups to hand in their writing assignments. Less than half of each class had done them. When she first realized it, Victoria looked disappointed.

“Is there some reason why you didn’t?” she asked Becki Adams.

“I had too much work to do for my other classes,” Becki said with a shrug, while the girl sitting next to her laughed.

“May I remind you that this is a required English class? Your English grade this term will depend on what you do here.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Becki said, turning to the girl next to her to say something in a whisper. And she glanced up at Victoria as she did, which made her feel they were talking about her. She tried to regain her composure, collected the papers that had been done, and thanked the students who had completed the assignment.

“For those who didn’t,” Victoria said calmly, “you have till Monday. And from now on, I expect you to turn your assignments in on time.” It threw off the assignment she had planned to give them to do over the weekend. But less than half the class had done the work.

She discussed the power of the essay then, and handed out some examples, explaining why they worked, and pointing out the strengths of each piece. And this time the entire group ignored her. Two girls in the back row were wearing iPods, three of the boys were laughing at a private joke, several of the girls were passing notes, and Becki pulled out her BlackBerry and sent texts. Victoria felt like she’d been slapped and wasn’t sure what to do. They were five years younger than she was and behaving like total brats.

“Are we having a problem here?” she finally said quietly. “Are you under the impression that you don’t have to pay attention to this class? Or even be polite? Do you care about your grades at all? I know you’re seniors, and your junior transcript goes on your college apps, but if you flunk this class, it’s not going to look so great and may keep you out of the college of your choice.”

“You’re just a temp till Mrs. Bernini gets back,” a boy in the back row called out.

“Mrs. Bernini isn’t coming back this year. That could be bad news for both of us, or good news if you decide to make the best of it. It’s up to you. If you’d rather fail this class, that’s your choice. You can explain it to the dean. And your parents. It’s very simple actually-you do the work, you get the grades. You don’t bother, and don’t turn your assignments in, you fail the class. I’m sure Mrs. Bernini saw it the same way,” Victoria said, as she walked past Becki and took her BlackBerry away.

“You can’t do that! I was texting my mom!” she complained with an angry look.

“Do it after class. If there’s an emergency, go to the office. Don’t text in my class. That goes for you too,” she said, pointing to a girl in the second row, who had actually been exchanging text messages with Becki. “Let’s get this straight, no BlackBerrys, no cell phones, and no iPods in my class. No texting. We’re here to work on English composition.” They didn’t look impressed, and while she was talking to them, the bell rang, and they all stood up. No one waited for her to dismiss the class. She was seriously disheartened as they left the room, and she put the assignments that had been turned in into her briefcase. And she was even more depressed when her second class of seniors came in, and were equally disruptive. She had been identified as the teacher to play with, be rude to, and ignore.

It was as though a memo had gone out to all seniors to jerk her around. She was near tears when Helen came into her classroom after the kids left. Victoria was gathering up her things and looked upset.

“Bad day?” she asked, looking sympathetic. Until then Victoria wasn’t sure if she and Helen were allies, but she looked friendly when she walked in.

“Not so great actually,” Victoria admitted as she picked up her briefcase with a sigh.

“You’ve got to get them in control fast before they beat you up. Seniors can be nasty if they get out of hand. Juniors are always stressed out of their minds, and sophomores are just kids. Freshmen are babies and scared to death the first half of the year. They’re easy.” She had it down pat, and Victoria smiled.

“Too bad Mrs. Bernini didn’t teach freshmen. And I’ve got a double dose of seniors with two classes.”

“They’ll eat you for breakfast if you let them,” Helen warned her. “You have to kick ass. Don’t be too nice, and don’t try to be their friend. Especially as young as you are. The kids at Madison can be great, and most of them are smart, but a lot of them are very manipulative and think they own the world. They’ll clean the floor with you if you don’t watch out, and so will their parents. Don’t take any shit from them. Trust me. You need to be tough.” Helen looked serious as she said it.

“I guess you’re right. Less than half of them did the assignment and they sat around the class texting, writing messages, and listening to iPods. They couldn’t have cared less.” Helen knew how hard that was for a young teacher, and had been there herself.

“You’ve gotta be tough,” she said again, as she followed Victoria out of her classroom and headed back to her own. “Give them big assignments, challenge them, give them an F when they don’t turn in an assignment. Kick them out if they’re not paying attention or doing the work. Confiscate their stuff. It’ll wake them up.” Victoria nodded. She hated to be that way, but she suspected Helen was right. “And forget the little creeps over the weekend. Do something nice for yourself,” she said in a motherly tone. “And first thing Monday morning, kick their asses. Mark my words, they’ll sit up and take notice.”

“Thanks,” Victoria said, and smiled at her again. “Have a nice weekend.” She appreciated Helen’s advice, and it made her like her better than she had at first.

“You too!” Helen said, and went back into her classroom to pick up her things.

Victoria walked home from school with a heavy heart. She felt like an utter failure with her two senior classes, and the juniors and sophomores hadn’t gone well either. It almost made her wonder why she had wanted to be a teacher. She had been all idealistic and starry-eyed, and she wasn’t doing them any good. The end of the week had gone badly, and she was afraid that she wouldn’t be able to control them, as Helen suggested, and it would get worse. Thinking about it, she stopped to get something for dinner, and she wound up buying three slices of pizza and three pints of Häagen-Dazs ice cream in different flavors, and a bag of Oreo cookies. She knew it wasn’t the answer, but it was comfort food for her. When she got home, she put the pizza in the oven, and opened the pint of chocolate ice cream first. She was more than halfway through it when Bunny came home from the gym. Victoria had been planning to go with her all week but hadn’t had time, while she worked on her plans for her classes. And she was too tired at night. Bunny didn’t comment when she saw her eating the ice cream, but Victoria felt guilty immediately, put the lid back on, and put it back in the freezer with the rest.

“How was your week?” Bunny asked kindly. She thought Victoria looked upset.

“Hard. The kids are tough, and I’m new.”

“I’m sorry. Do something fun this weekend. The weather is going to be great. I’m going up to Boston, Bill is at Julie’s, and I think Harlan is going to Fire Island. You’ll have the apartment to yourself.” That wasn’t entirely good news to Victoria, who was feeling lonely, homesick, and depressed. She missed Grace.

After Bunny left to catch her flight to Boston, Victoria ate the pizza and then called home to talk to Grace. Her mother answered and asked how she was. Victoria said she was fine, and then her father got on the phone.

“Ready to throw in the towel and come home?” he asked with a hearty laugh. She wouldn’t have admitted it to him, but she almost was. She had felt completely inadequate in the classroom and like an utter failure. What he said jolted her back into reality. She wasn’t about to give up.

“Not yet, Dad,” she said, trying to sound happier than she felt. And then Gracie got on the phone, and Victoria almost burst into tears. She really missed her and was suddenly lonely in the empty apartment in a new city with no friends.

They talked for a long time. Gracie told her what she was doing in school, they chatted about her teachers and her classes, and there was a new boy she said she liked. He was a junior. There was always a new boy in Gracie’s life, and never one in her sister’s. Victoria hadn’t felt this miserable in a long time, and she was feeling sorry for herself. But she didn’t say anything to Gracie about what a mess the week had been. After they hung up, Victoria took out the vanilla ice cream, opened it, walked into her room, turned on the TV, and got into her bed with her clothes on. She put on a movie channel, and finished the ice cream as she watched a movie, and then felt guilty when she looked at the empty ice cream carton next to her bed. It had been her dinner. And she could almost feel her hips growing as she lay there. She was utterly disgusted with herself. She put her pajamas on shortly after, got back in bed, and pulled the covers over her head. She didn’t wake up until the next morning.

To atone for her sins of the night before, she went for a long walk in Central Park on Saturday, and jogged partway around the reservoir. The weather was gorgeous, and she noticed couples strolling all around her, and she felt sad not to have a man in her life. Looking around, she felt as though everyone else did, and she was the odd person out, and always had been. She was crying when she jogged to the edge of the park, and then walked home in her T-shirt and gym shorts and running shoes. And she promised herself she wouldn’t eat any more ice cream that night. It was a promise she intended to keep. And as she sat home alone in the empty apartment and watched another movie, she didn’t eat the ice cream. She ate the bag of Oreo cookies instead.

She spent Sunday correcting the assignments that some of the seniors had done. She was surprised by how good they were, and how creative. A few of her students had real talent, and the essays they’d written were very sophisticated. She was impressed, and said so when she faced her first class on Monday morning. They had slouched in and sprawled in their seats with obvious uninterest. There were at least a dozen BlackBerrys evident on their desks. She walked around the room and picked them up one by one, and put them on her own desk. Their owners reacted immediately and she assured them they could have them back after class. Several of the BlackBerrys were already vibrating with messages on her desk.

She praised them then for their essays, and they were pleased, and then she collected the rest. All but two students had done them. The two who hadn’t were tall, good-looking boys, who appeared cocky and cynical when they said they hadn’t done the assignment, again.

“Is there a problem? The dog ate your homework?” Victoria asked calmly.

“No,” a boy named Mike MacDuff said to her. “We were out in the Hamptons and I played tennis all day Saturday, and golf with my dad on Sunday. And I had a date Saturday night.”

“I’m thrilled for you, Mike. I’ve never been to the Hamptons, but I hear it’s great out there. I’m glad you had such a nice weekend. That’ll be an F on your assignment.” And with that, she turned her attention to the rest of the class and handed out copies of a short story she wanted them to look at, while Mike scowled at her. The boy sitting next to him looked uncomfortable, and had figured out that he was getting an F too.

She helped them dissect the short story, and showed them why it worked. It was a good story, and they seemed to enjoy it, they paid closer attention to her this time, and she felt better about the class. Even Becki had contributed some remarks about the story. And Victoria asked them to write a short story as their assignment. Mike stopped at her desk on the way out, and in a gruff voice he asked whether, if he did the assignment he’d missed, she’d drop the F for his failure to write it.

“Not this time, Mike,” she said pleasantly, feeling like a monster, but she remembered Helen’s warning on Friday not to let them get away with anything. She had to make an example of Mike and the other boy who hadn’t bothered to do the first assignment.

“That sucks!” he said loudly as he strode out of the room and slammed the door on the way out. Victoria looked undisturbed, and got ready for the second class, which started a few minutes later.

They were tougher than the first group. And there was a girl in the class who was determined to take Victoria on and humiliate her. She made several comments about women who were overweight before Victoria started talking. She pretended not to have heard the girl’s remarks. Her name was Sally Fritz. She had dark red hair and freckles, and a tattoo of a star on the back of one hand.

“Where did you go to school anyway?” she asked Victoria rudely as she started to teach the class. She had totally interrupted what Victoria was saying.

“Northwestern. Are you thinking of applying?”

“Hell, no,” Sally said loudly. “It’s too cold there.”

“Yes, it is, but I loved it. It’s a good school, once you get used to the weather.”

“I’m applying to California and Texas.”

Victoria nodded. “I’m from L.A. There are some terrific schools in California,” she said pleasantly.

“My brother went to Stanford,” Sally volunteered as though they weren’t in class, and she didn’t care if they were. She was very brash. Victoria went on with the class then, and shared the same short story with them that she had gone over with the first class that morning. This group was livelier and more critical of the piece, which made for some interesting discussions around the room, and they got into it, in spite of their intention of torturing her and being difficult. She swept them all into the analysis of the story and a lively exchange, and some of them were still talking about it when they left the room, and Victoria looked pleased. She didn’t mind being challenged by her students, or even argued with if they had valid points. The goal of her teaching was to make them question what they knew and thought they believed in. The short story she had exposed them to had done that. It had been a victory for her. And she stopped in to see Helen on her way to the teachers’ lounge to correct papers.

“Thanks for the tip the other day,” she said shyly. “It helped.”

“To kick their asses?”

Victoria laughed in answer. “I don’t think I did that. But I gave two F’s in my first class for failure to hand in the assignment.” It was a lot tougher than she thought she would be in the second week of school.

“That’s a start.” Helen grinned at her. “I’m proud of you. It’ll wake up the others.”

“I think it did. And I’m confiscating iPods and BlackBerrys whenever I see them.”

“They hate that,” Helen confirmed. “They’d much rather send text messages to their friends than listen to you, or me, for that matter.” The two women laughed. “Did you have a nice weekend?”

“Nice enough. I went to the park on Saturday, and corrected papers on Sunday.” And ate two pints of ice cream, pizza, and an entire bag of cookies. But she didn’t say it. She knew it was a measure of how discouraged she was. She always ate more when she was unhappy, even though she promised herself she wouldn’t. She could see an imminent return to her size fourteen and sixteen wardrobe in her future. She had brought all four sizes with her. She wanted to avoid winding up a sixteen, which could easily happen at the rate she was eating. She knew she had to start dieting again. It was a constant merry-go-round she could never seem to get off. With no friends, no boyfriend, and no social life, feeling unsure of herself in her job, she was at high risk for putting on weight in New York, despite her good resolutions not to. They never lasted. At the first sign of a crisis, she dove into a pint of ice cream, a bag of cookies, or a pizza. And she had done all three that weekend, which had set off an alarm in her head to be careful before it got out of hand.

Helen could sense that she was lonely, and she seemed very young and innocent to her, and like a nice girl. “Maybe we can go to a movie next weekend. Or a concert in the park,” she offered.

“I’d like that,” Victoria said, looking happy. She felt like the new kid on the block, and she was. And she was the youngest teacher in the school. Helen was twice her age, but she liked Victoria. She thought she was bright, and Helen could tell she was trying, and was dedicated to teaching. She was naïve, but Helen thought she would learn the ropes in time. It was challenging for everyone in the beginning, especially teaching older kids. High school students were the toughest. But Victoria looked like she could handle it if she kept the kids in control. “Are you going to the lounge?” she asked Helen hopefully.

“I’ve got another class. I’ll catch you later.” Victoria nodded, and walked down the hall to the lounge. It was deserted. Everyone had gone to lunch, and she was trying not to. She had brought an apple in her briefcase and had vowed to be good. She sat munching it as she read the papers. And once again, they were surprisingly good. She had some very bright students. She just hoped she was bright enough to teach them and hold their interest for the entire year. She was feeling very unsure of herself. Now that she was faced with a classroom full of real people, this was much harder than she had anticipated, and it was going to take more than just discipline to keep them in line. Helen had given her some helpful hints, and Carla Bernini had set up the syllabus before going on maternity leave, but Victoria knew that she had to infuse her classes with life and excitement in order to keep the kids hooked. And she was scared to death that she wasn’t good enough to do it and would fail. She wanted to be good at it more than anything. She didn’t care how little the job paid, this was her vocation, and she wanted to be a great teacher, the kind kids remembered for years. She had no idea if she could do it, but she was trying her best. And this was only the beginning. The school year had just started.

For the next two weeks, Victoria fought to keep her students’ attention. She confiscated cell phones and BlackBerrys, she gave them tough assignments, and one day when her sophomore class was too restless, she took them for a walk around the neighborhood, and made them write about it. She tried to come up with every creative idea she could, and to get to know every one of her students in all four classes, and she began to get the feeling after two months that some of them liked her. She racked her brain on the weekends searching for ideas for them, new books to read, and new projects. And sometimes she surprised them with unexpected quizzes and assignments. There was nothing dull about her classes. And by late November, she felt like she was beginning to get somewhere with them and win their respect. Not all of her students liked her, but at least they were paying attention and responding to her. By the time she got on the plane to go home for the Thanksgiving holiday, she had a feeling of accomplishment, until she saw her father. He looked at her with surprise when he met her at the airport with her mother and Grace, who hurled herself into Victoria’s arms with glee, as her big sister kissed her.

“Wow! The ice cream must be good in New York,” he commented, grinning broadly, and her mother looked pained, not at his comment but at Victoria’s appearance. She had gained back everything she lost, while correcting papers at night and on weekends and working on her classes. She had been living on Chinese takeout, and double chocolate milk shakes. The diet she kept meaning to start just hadn’t happened. Her whole focus had been on her classes and her students and not on herself. And she kept eating all the wrong foods to give herself energy, comfort, and strength.

“I guess so, Dad,” Victoria said vaguely.

“Why don’t you steam fish and vegetables, dear?” her mother said. Victoria marveled that after not seeing her for almost three months, her weight was all they could think about. Gracie just looked at her and beamed. She didn’t care what size Victoria was, she just loved her. The two sisters walked off arm in arm toward the baggage claim, happy to be back together.

On Thanksgiving day, Victoria helped her mother cook the turkey, and she enjoyed the day and the meal with them, miraculously without negative comments from her father. The weather was balmy and warm, and they sat in the backyard afterward, and her mother asked her about her teaching.

“Do you like it?” She was still puzzled why her daughter would want to be a teacher.

“I love it.” She grinned at her sister then. “And my sophomore students are horrible. They’re all little monsters like you. I confiscate their iPods all the time, so they’ll listen to me.”

“Why don’t you make them write lyrics?” Gracie suggested as her older sister looked at her in amazement. “That’s what my teacher did, and we loved it.”

“That’s brilliant!” Victoria could hardly wait to try it on them. She had been planning to have her juniors and seniors write poetry in the weeks before Christmas. But lyrics for the sophomores was a great idea. “Thank you, Gracie.”

“Just ask me about the sophomores,” she said proudly, since she was one herself.

Her father managed to stay off the subject of her weight for the rest of the visit, and her mother discreetly said that she should go to Overeaters Anonymous, which really hurt Victoria’s feelings, but other than that, it was a warm, comfortable weekend, especially with Gracie. And they all drove her back to the airport on Sunday. She was planning to come back in four weeks to spend Christmas with them, so this time their goodbyes weren’t tearful. She was going to spend the whole vacation with them, since they had two weeks off school. And on the plane on the way back to New York, she thought again about Gracie’s suggestion to have the sophomores write lyrics.

She presented the idea to her sophomore class on Wednesday morning, and they looked ecstatic. It was something they could really wrap their minds around, and for once they looked enthusiastic about an assignment. Her juniors and seniors were less thrilled with the poetry they had to write, and she was starting to help some of them with their essays for their college applications. She had her hands full.

The lyrics the sophomores wrote for her were terrific. One boy brought a guitar in, and they tried to put music to some of his words. The assignment was a huge success, and they asked if they could extend the project until Christmas vacation, and she agreed. And she gave most of them excellent grades for what they did. She had never given so many As. And the poetry assignments were surprisingly good too. By Christmas vacation, Victoria felt as though she had won their confidence, and all of them were behaving better in her classroom. Helen had noticed it too. The students looked happy and enthusiastic now when they left her room.

“What did you do to them? Give them drugs?”

“I took my fifteen-year-old sister’s suggestion. I’ve had the sophomores writing lyrics,” Victoria said proudly, and Helen was impressed by her creativity.

“That’s pure genius. I wish I could do that in my class.”

“I stole the idea from my sister’s teacher. But it worked. And the older kids have been writing poetry. A few of them really have talent.”

“So do you,” Helen said with a look of admiration. “You’re a damn good teacher. I hope you know that. And I’m happy that you’re learning to control the class. It’s better for them, and you. Even at their age, they need boundaries, discipline, and structure.”

“I’ve been working on it,” Victoria said honestly, “but sometimes I think I really screw up. There’s a lot more creativity to teaching than I originally thought.”

“We all screw up,” Helen said candidly. “That doesn’t make you a bad teacher. You keep trying and you find what works till you win them over. That’s the best you can do.”

“I love what I’m doing,” she said happily, “even if they drive me crazy sometimes. But they don’t seem as cocky lately. One of the kids even wants to go to Northwestern because I said I loved the school.” Helen was smiling at her as she listened. She could see Victoria’s passion for her profession in her eyes, and it warmed Helen’s heart.

“I hope Eric is smart enough to hire you permanently after Carla comes back. He’ll be crazy if he loses you,” Helen said warmly.

“I’m just grateful to be here. We’ll see what happens about next year.” She knew that contracts would be offered in March and April, and she didn’t know if they’d have an opening for her. She hoped so, but nothing was sure. For now, it was working, for her and the kids and the school. Eric Walker, the headmaster, had been hearing good things about her from the students. And two of the parents had commented that they liked her assignments. She really inspired the kids, and when necessary she pushed them. She thought outside the box, and wasn’t afraid to try new things. She was exactly the kind of teacher they wanted.

And she had stopped eating quite as voraciously after Thanksgiving. Her father’s comment, and her mother’s suggesting Overeaters Anonymous, had slowed her down a little. She hadn’t started any crazy new diets yet, and she was planning to do that over Christmas. She had thought about going to Weight Watchers, but she told herself she didn’t have time. But for now she had eased up on the ice cream and pizza. And she was buying salads and cooked chicken breasts to eat in the kitchen with the others when she got home, and she made sure she had fruit for an afternoon snack. She still hadn’t developed a social life, other than the occasional movie date with Helen, but she enjoyed her roommates. She saw more of Harlan than anyone, because Bill was always with Julie, and Bunny had been going to Boston almost every weekend to be with her boyfriend. She was thinking of moving to be with him. But Harlan was around almost as much as she was. He was single and unattached too. And he worked as hard as she did. When he came home at night, he was exhausted and happy to crash in front of the TV in his room, and meet her for a snack in the kitchen.

“So where are you going for Christmas?” she asked him one night over a cup of tea.

“I’ve been invited to South Beach. I’m not sure if I’m going. Miami isn’t really my scene.” He was a serious man who worked diligently at the museum. She knew he wasn’t close to his family, and wasn’t planning to go back to Mississippi for the holidays. He said his parents were still upset that he was gay, and he wasn’t welcome, which she thought was sad for him.

“I’m going back to L.A. to see my parents and sister,” Victoria said pensively, thinking that her parents had never fully accepted her either. She had been a misfit and an outcast in their midst all her life. Even her size upset them and made her look different. Her mother would have preferred to die than be the size she was, and would never have let that happen. And her father still couldn’t resist remarks at her expense, with no awareness of how hurtful they were to her. She never believed that his cruelty was on purpose.

“Do you miss them when you’re here?” Harlan asked, curious about her family.

“Sometimes. They’re familiar. Mostly I miss my little sister. She’s always been my baby.” Victoria smiled at Harlan as he poured them both another cup of tea.

“I have an older brother who hates me. Being gay was not the thing to be in Tupelo, Mississippi, when I was growing up, and it still isn’t. He and his friends used to beat me up all the time. I didn’t even know why till I was fifteen and figured out why they did it. Up until then, I thought I was just different. After that, I knew. I left the minute I turned eighteen, and came to college up here. I think they were as relieved as I was. I only go back once every few years, when I run out of excuses.” It sounded sad to her and very lonely. But her life at home would have been too, without Gracie.

“I’m the odd man out in my family too,” she admitted. “They’re all thin people with brown eyes and dark hair. I’m the family freak. My father always gives me a hard time about my weight. My mother leaves clippings on my desk about new diets.”

“That’s mean,” Harlan said sadly, although he had noticed the things and quantities she ate when she was tired or depressed. He thought she had a pretty face and great legs, despite the generous middle. But in spite of it, she was a good-looking woman. He was surprised that she wasn’t dating. “Some parents do so much damage,” he said thoughtfully. “It makes me glad I’ll never have kids. I wouldn’t want to do to anyone what they did to me. My brother is a real jerk. He works in a bank and he’s dull as dishwater. He’s married and has two kids. He thinks being gay is like a disease. He keeps hoping I’ll get over it, like amnesia, and remember that I’m straight, which would be less embarrassing for him.” Harlan laughed as he said it. He was twenty-six years old and comfortable about who he was. He was hoping to become a curator at the Met eventually, even though the salary wasn’t great. But he was very dedicated to his work, just as Victoria was to teaching. “Will Christmas be fun in L.A.?” he asked with a wistful expression, and she nodded. It would be because of Gracie.

“I loved it when my sister was little, and she still believed in Santa Claus. We still put out cookies for him, and carrots and salt for the reindeer.” He smiled when she said it.

“Do you have plans for New Year’s Eve?” he asked with interest, trying to imagine her life there. She never said much about her parents, only her little sister.

“Not really. I usually stay home with my sister. One of these days she’ll be old enough to have a serious date, and then I’ll really be up shit creek.”

“Maybe we can do something if we’re both back here,” he said, and she liked the idea. “We can go to Times Square and watch the ball drop with all the tourists and hookers.” They both laughed at the image.

“I might come home from L.A. in time to do that,” Victoria said thoughtfully. “I go back to school a few days later. I’ll see what’s happening out there.”

“Text me and let me know what you’re doing,” he said, and she nodded, and they put their cups in the dishwasher.

Victoria left little gifts on each of their beds for all three of her roommates when she went to L.A., and she had presents for Gracie and her parents in her suitcase. She was happy to go home and be with her family and especially to see Gracie. When they got home from the airport, they all decorated the tree and drank delicious rum punch. It was pungent and burned her tongue a little, but she liked it, and her head spun slightly when she went to bed. It felt good to be home, and Gracie slipped into bed next to her, and they giggled and talked until they fell asleep. And both her parents seemed in good spirits. Her father said he had landed an important new client for the agency, and her mother had just won a bridge tournament. And Gracie was thrilled to be on vacation and have Victoria home for the holidays. She was happy to be there.

Everything went smoothly on Christmas, and her parents and Gracie liked their presents. Her father gave her a long gold necklace, because he didn’t have to worry if it fit, he said. And her mother gave her a cashmere sweater and two books on exercise and a new diet. Neither of them noticed that she had lost weight since Thanksgiving. Gracie did and complimented her, but her praise was never as potent as their parents’ insults.

And two days after Christmas, Gracie got invited to a party on New Year’s Eve, given at the home of one of her friends in Beverly Hills. Victoria had nothing to do. The people she knew were all working in other cities, and two of them who still lived in L.A. had gone skiing. All Victoria did over the holidays was spend time with Grace. And Gracie offered to stay home with her on New Year’s Eve.

“Don’t be silly-you should be with your friends. I was thinking of going back to New York then anyway.”

“For a date?” Gracie looked at her with interest. This was the first she had heard of it.

“No, just one of my roommates. I don’t know if he’ll be there, but we were talking about doing something on New Year’s Eve.”

“Does he like you?” Gracie asked with a mischievous look, and Victoria laughed at the question.

“Not like that. But he’s a good friend, and we have fun together. He works at the Metropolitan Museum.”

“How boring,” Gracie said, and rolled her eyes. She was disappointed that he didn’t sound more promising. She could see that Victoria didn’t consider him an option as a romance.

In the end, Victoria left L.A. the morning of New Year’s Eve. Gracie was going to the party at her friends’, and her parents had been invited out to dinner. She would have been alone at the house, so she decided to go back to New York. She needed to get ready for school anyway. And she texted Harlan, hoping he would be back in New York. Her father drove her to the airport, while Gracie and their mother were getting their hair done. Victoria and Gracie had said goodbye that morning.

“Do you think you’ll come back after you finish the year in New York?” her father asked her on the way to the airport.

“I don’t know yet, Dad.” She didn’t want to tell him that she didn’t think so and was happy there. She didn’t have a wide circle of friends yet, but she liked her roommates, her apartment, and her job. It was a start.

“You would do so much better in another field,” he repeated for the thousandth time.

“I like teaching,” she said quietly.

And then he laughed and glanced at her. “At least I know you’ll never starve.” She marveled at the fact that he never missed an opportunity to take a dig at her or cut her down. It was an important part of why she was in New York. She said nothing to him after that, and sat quietly as they drove to LAX. And as he always did, he helped her with her bags and tipped the porter for her. And then he turned to hug her, as though he had never made the comment in the car. He never got it.

“Thanks for everything, Dad.”

“Take care of yourself,” he said, and sounded sincere.

“You too.” She hugged him, and then walked into the security lines. She boarded the plane and just as she did, she saw that she had a text from Harlan.

“I’ll be back in New York by six o’clock,” he had texted her. She was landing at nine P.M., local time.

“I’ll be at the apartment by ten,” she texted back.

“Times Square?” was his response.

“Okay.”

“It’s a date.” She smiled as she turned her phone off. At least it was nice to know that she’d have something to do on New Year’s Eve, and someone to spend it with. She had lunch on the plane, watched a movie, and slept for the last two hours of the flight. It was snowing when she landed in New York, tiny gentle flurries that made it look like a Christmas card as she rode into the city in a cab. She was excited to be back, although always sad to leave Gracie, and she had promised to let her come to visit for spring break. And her parents had said they might come with her. Victoria hoped not.

Harlan was waiting for her at the apartment, with a tan, fresh from Miami. He said he didn’t like the gay scene there, it was too glitzy and superficial, and he was happy to be back too.

“So how was L.A.?” he asked her as she walked into the apartment.

“Okay. I had fun with my sister.” She smiled back, and he opened a bottle of champagne and handed her a glass.

“Did your parents behave?”

“No better or worse than usual. I had a good time with my sister, but I’m happy to be back.”

“Me too.” He grinned and took a sip of the champagne. “You’d better wear your snow boots for Times Square.”

“Are we still going?” The snow was swirling outside, but it was a gentle snow that hung in the air before it fell to the ground.

“Hell, yes. I wouldn’t miss it for the world. We have to watch the big ball fall. We can come back and get warm afterward.” She laughed and finished her glass of champagne.

They left the apartment in a cab at eleven-thirty, and got to Times Square ten minutes before midnight. There was a huge crowd watching the giant mirrored ball, and Victoria smiled at Harlan as the snow fell on their hair and lashes. It felt like the perfect way to spend the night. And then on the stroke of midnight, the mirrored ball plummeted, and everybody cheered. They stood there laughing and hugging, and he kissed her on the cheek.

“Happy New Year, Victoria,” he said, smiling happily. He loved being with her.

“Happy New Year,” she said as they hugged and looked up at the sky like two children, watching the snow come down. It looked like a stage set, and the moment felt perfect to both of them. They were young, and it was New Year’s Eve in New York. For now anyway, it didn’t get better than that. And it felt good to both of them to spend the evening with a friend. They stood there until their hair and coats were covered with snow, and then they walked a few blocks along Times Square among the bright lights and people, and hailed a cab to go home. It had been a perfect evening for both of them.