Sitting down beside her on the stone ledge, Lisa continued doggedly, "I was a witch yesterday for a lot of selfish, stupid reasons. I felt sorry for myself because you were offering me this fantastic chance to go away to a special school, to feel like someone special, and I knew I'd never be able to go. I mean, my ma needs help with the kids and the house, and even if she didn't, I'd need money for the trip to Vermont and other stuff once I got there."
Meredith had never considered that Lisa's mother couldn't or wouldn't spare her, and she thought it seemed horribly unfair that Mrs. Pontini's having had eight children meant Lisa had to be a part-time mother too. "I didn't think about your mother and father not letting you go," she admitted, looking at Lisa for the first time. "I sort of thought, well, that parents always wanted their children to get a good education if they possibly could."
"You were half right," Lisa said, and Meredith noticed for the first time that Lisa looked as if she were bursting with news. "My ma does. She had a big fight with Pa over it after you left. He said a girl doesn't need to go to fancy schools, just to get married and have babies. Ma started waving this big spoon at him and yelling that I could do better than that, and then everything started happening. Ma called my gramma and she called my aunts and uncles, and they all came over to the house, and pretty soon everybody was chipping in money for me. It's only a loan. I figure if I work hard at Bensonhurst, I ought to be able to get a scholarship to some college after that. Later, I'll get a great job and repay everybody."
Her eyes were shining as she reached out impulsively and squeezed Meredith's hand. "How does it feel," she asked softly, "to know you're responsible for changing someone's entire life? To know that you've made dreams come true for me and Ma and my aunts—"
Unexpectedly, Meredith felt the hot sting of tears behind her eyes. "It feels," she said, "pretty nice."
"Do you think we could be roommates?"
Meredith nodded, her face beginning to shine.
Several yards away, a group of girls who were eating their lunches together looked up and stared: Lisa Pontini —the new girl in school—and Meredith Bancroft—the weirdest girl in school—had suddenly stood up, and they were crying and laughing and hugging each other, jumping up and down.
Chapter 6
June 1978
The room Meredith had shared with Lisa at Bensonhurst for four years was cluttered with packing boxes and half-filled suitcases. Hanging on the closet door were the blue caps and gowns they'd worn at the commencement ceremony the previous night along with the gold tassels that indicated they'd both graduated with highest honors. In the closet, Lisa was putting sweaters into a box; beyond the open door of their room, the hall was filled with the unfamiliar sound of male conversation as fathers, brothers, and boyfriends of departing students carried suitcases and boxes downstairs. Meredith's father had spent the night at a local inn and was due in an hour, but Meredith had lost track of time. Overcome with nostalgia, she was flipping through a thick stack of photographs she'd taken from her desk, smiling at the memories each one evoked.
The years Lisa and she had spent in Vermont had been wonderful ones for both of them. Contrary to Lisa's original fear that she would be an outcast at Bensonhurst, she'd soon established herself as a trendsetter among the other girls, who regarded her as daring and unique. In their freshman year, it was Lisa who organized and led a successful raid on the boys at Litchfield Prep in retaliation for their attempted panty raid on Bensonhurst. In their sophomore year, Lisa designed a stage setting for Bensonhurst's annual school play that was so spectacular, pictures of it made the newspapers in several cities. In their junior year, it was Lisa who Bill Fletcher asked to Litchfield's spring dance. Besides being the captain of Litchfield's soccer team, Bill Fletcher was also fantastically good-looking and very smart. On the day before the dance, he scored twice on the field and once again in a nearby motel, where Lisa gave him her virginity. After that momentous event, Lisa returned to the room she shared with Meredith and cheerfully revealed the news to the four girls who had gathered there. Flopping onto her bed, she had grinned and announced, "I am no longer a virgin. You may feel completely free to ask me for advice and information from now on!"
The other girls obviously regarded that as yet another example of Lisa's intrepid independence and sophistication, because they laughed and cheered, but Meredith had been worried and even a little appalled. That night, when their friends left, Meredith and Lisa had their first real quarrel since coming to Bensonhurst. "I can't believe you did that!" Meredith had exploded. "What if you got pregnant? What if the other girls spread it around? What if your parents find out?"
Lisa had reacted with matching force. "You're not my keeper and you're not responsible for me, so stop acting like my mother! If you want to wait around for Parker Reynolds or some other mythical white knight to sweep you off your feet and into bed, then do it, but don't expect everyone else to be like you! I didn't buy all that purity crap the nuns fed us at St. Stephen's," Lisa continued, flinging her blazer into the closet. "If you were stupid enough to swallow it, then be the eternal virgin, but don't expect me to be one too! And I'm not careless enough to get pregnant—Bill used a condom. Furthermore, the other girls aren't going to say a word about what I did, because they've already done it! The only shocked little virgin in our room tonight was you!"
"That's enough," Meredith interrupted stonily, starting over to her desk. Despite the surface calm in her voice, she was squirming with guilt and embarrassment. She did feel responsible for Lisa because she was the one who'd brought her to Bensonhurst. Moreover, Meredith already knew she was morally archaic, and that she had no right to inflict restrictions on Lisa simply because they'd somehow been inflicted on herself. "I didn't mean to judge you, Lisa, I was worried about you, that's all."
After a moment of tense silence, Lisa turned to her and said, "Mer, I'm sorry."
"Forget it," Meredith replied. "You were right."
"No, I wasn't," she said, looking at Meredith with pleading and desperation. "It's just that I'm not like you, and I can't be. Not that I haven't tried now and then."
That admission wrung a grim laugh from Meredith. "Why would you want to be like me?"
"Because," Lisa said with a wry smile, then she mimicked Humphrey Bogart and said, "You've got class, baby. Class with a capital K"