Thanatophobia

Lucy had three sisters: June, who was thirteen, Brooklyn, who was nine, and Regina, who was only seven. She had two basset hounds, Wilhelm and Jody (the names, according to Lucy, were Regina's idea). Her parents were just as crazy as she was, carting around the kids from soccer practice to girl scouts meetings to drama camp and to their friends' houses, meanwhile still involving themselves in PTA activites and still managing to go to work.

It was the second to last day of school, and I was sprawled out on Lucy's twin-sized, purple bed with Jody licking my feet. Lucy plopped down on June's matching bed on the other side of the room. We were supposed to be studying, but it would be a disgrace to this nice weather to do such a thing. We just got inside from laying out in the sun, finding slavation in air conditioning.

"The color scheme was totally June's idea," Lucy informed me, waving at the bubblegum pink walls and flower shaped furniture around the room. "It'll probably change, though. Her pubescent hormones are taking their toll on her little mind."

I laughed. "You should see my bedroom; if Paula Dean calls and wonders where all her butter went, tell her someone used it to paint my walls."

Lucy clutched her stomach, laughing so hard that she almost fell off her sister's bed. That's the thing about Lucy; she was kind of batshit crazy when it came down to it. She was in so many clubs and electives that she didn't have the time for real friends. She had told me that even Angelica, the barbie doll clone that came with us for icecream, didn't get her like I did. I had to laugh at the irony because I still didn't get her, but I wasn't about to tell her that.

She lived in this little shell of doing everything she thought necessary to get into Princeton and nothing more. Her life consisted of volunteering, studying, and organizing school activites while simultaneously kissing teachers' asses and claculating how many calories are in whatever she was going to eat that day.

Lucy Davenport wasn't my best friend, but I seemed to be hers.

She rolled off the bed and landed on her feet, twisting with the grace of a ballerina (because- you guessed it!- she was one) and leaning down to pet Wilhelm, who was gnawing on his left paw.

"I've never been to your house before," she noted. "What's it like?"

I blew out a puff of air and sat up, propping myself up on my elbow. "It's big. Kind of boring, but great for parties."

Nick wasn't kidding when he said that he had them every friday night. I'd been in Princeton for a couple of weeks and not one had passed without an infamous Hamilton party. I didn't mind, though, because it was an excuse to hang out with my friends. It was weird having friends again; I'd gone my entire Junior year without getting near a single kid my age when I could help it, up until I'd moved here. Lauren was always at the parties, but only a couple times had she actually come upstairs to hang out with me. It was nothing personal, Lauren was a teenage alcoholic. She was as stubborn as a mule, and no matter how hard I tried to get her to sober up for just one party, she had to have at least something.

"You've never invited me to one of your parties," Lucy muttered in a sad tone. I angled my head to look down at her, shooting an apologetic glance.

"Well, they're not really my parties," I said. "They're Nick's. I don't even go downstairs. I usually just hang out with Cam in my room, or sometimes Lauren comes up with us."

"Lauren Merklov?" Lucy said with disbelief. "You're friends with her?"

I didn't like her tone. "What's wrong with Lauren? She's nice to me!"

Lucy blushed. "Oh, I didn't know you were friends..." she trailed off. "It's just that she's got a reputation."

I didn't want to gossip. I really didn't want to, but I hated to be out of the loop. I was new, after all, and most people knew each other around here. "What kind of rep?" I asked tentatively.

"Well, she's kind of...slutty." She sounded absolutely scandalized, like they were talking about some kind of conspiracy.

I waited for more. Lucy didn't say anything, though; she just sat there. "...So?" I asked.

"So I didn't peg you for the type to hang out with girls like her," she said innocently. I was a little offended that she was judging me, but even more upset that she was judging Lauren.

I cocked my head to the side. "It's just a reputation," I told her. "It's not like she actually does stuff with guys, right?"

Even if she did, I didn't care. I'd had my fair share of fooling around in boarding school, not like I'd tell Lucy that, the prude.

Lucy hesitated again. Finally, biting her lip awkwardly, she said, "Well it's not really a reputation, it's true."

She waited for me to say something, but I stayed silent. She continued, "Like, she used to be in our group. It was me, Angelica, Oliver, and Cam. She used to go out with Oliver, but then they broke up."

I remembered Lauren telling me that a few weeks ago. It was right before I went to go see Cam. I was surprised that I didn't remember to press her about it more.

"Wait," I said. "Do you know why they broke up?"

I felt a little bit guilty that I was asking Lucy for this information instead of Lauren herslef, but I supposed that I could just confirm whatever Lucy said next time I saw Lauren. Unfortunately, though, Lucy shook her head.

"He won't talk about it with us," she sighed. "I know, I'm dying to know, too. But that happened months ago, and we've all kind of let it go. Oliver's a nice guy, I don't think he did anything wrong. She was the one who broke up with him anyway."

I licked my lips, which were getting dry from the air conditioning. "That's weird, he won't tell you anything? She doesn't even hang out with you guys anymore?"

"No, it's really weird," she said. "I bet she cheated on him, though. She's probably ashamed."

I didn't want to talk about it anymore. I seriously doubted that Lauren cheated on Oliver... but, then again, I remembered how guiltl she had looked the day she told me they broke up. I pushed it out of my mind, ending the conversation for my sake and Lauren's.

At dinner, I sat between Lucy and Brooklyn with Lucy's parents each at one end of the big table, June and Regina bickering across from me. Regina was upset because some of her ham touched her mashed potatoes and June was yelling at her for being a baby. Lucy leaned closer to me and whispered, "Regina's going through her food-touching stage. It's not pretty..."

I laughed under my breath, and Mrs. Davenport finally put an end to the fighting by threatening to send them up to bed without dinner. Regina quickly shut up, but June pushed her plate away and stood up, her blue eyes watering.

"Fine," she whined. "I'm a fat cow anyway, I don't need to eat!"

And with that, she pounded up the stairs to her room.

We sat in awkward silence for a bit, then Lucy finally glanced at her mom. "I'm gonna go talk to her," she announced, getting up from the table. "Try not to weird out my friend while I'm gone, okay?"

She glared at her dad then back to her mom, then to me. "I'll be right back."

I liked how close she was to June. Sometimes I thought that Lucy was some kind of perfect robot. It seemed like it would be impossible to live with and tolerate a thirteen year old sister, let alone share a room with one and actually be nice to her. If it were me, I would have shredded that kid to pieces in an hour.

We all started eating and Lucy's dad tried making small talk. "So you're a Hamilton, I hear," he said in a hearty tone. "It must be wonderful to have such successful parents; a father running for the Senate, a mother with such an active role in the community, and isn't your brother going to Princeton?"

Mrs. Davenport gave her husband a stern look. "You don't need to get into her personal life on the first dinner," she told him. "She might not come back!"

She winked at me and I smiled. She looked a lot like Lucy, with the same long, brown hair and same smile. Lucy got her blue eyes from her dad, though.

I swallowed a bite of ham. "It's fine, Mrs. Davenport. Everyone's, like, obsessed with my parents."

Everyone except for me.

"Well, I can see why," Mr. Davenport agreed. His eyes lit up with excitement, and I really couldn't fathom how someone could get so worked up about my family. Talk about disillusionment.

I shrugged. "It's not much different being a Hamilton," I lied. I did what I'd done all my life- act down-to-earth, act like I was just another person in the back. Act like I did in interviews for magazines and smile for the camera. Win the votes. "I mean, we have a big house on the beach, but otherwise we just try to go about everyday life like you do. It's just that on the side, Lloyd- erm, my dad- is campaigning, and my mom is helping the homeless or something."

Lucy's parents were practically drooling, eyes sparkling like it was some sort of honor to be talking to me. They didn't even know that I was lying to their faces. What I'd said was the other way around; Lloyd and Sheri attended to family matters on the side of campaigning and fund-raising. Nick and I were the second priority in their lives, hence why I was in Princeton rather than in a nice facility, getting help for my suicidal tendencies.

Lucy came down the stairs and steered into the living room just as Mr. Hamilton grinned at me and said, "Well, you're dad's got my vote. I love that your family has such an active role in society. Your parents have raised you and your brother so well, from what I've read. And your father's platform is completely convincing, you know. The way he..."

I stopped listening, plastering my signature Hamilton smile across my face. I nodded occasionally, laughing periodically, and saying "Yeah" when necessary. I knew all the tricks to covering up the fact that I didn't care. That's what we Hamiltons did best. We covered things up.