much,” Allegra said, feeling sympathetic. She was very fond of both Lawrence and Cordelia. It was just that she hadn’t seen Lawrence in years, and Cordelia had morphed into a shrill, nervous old lady.
“That’s the thing of it. I do like my parents quite a bit, but they’ve never had a lot of time for me. Oops, did I say that? I hate when I get self-pitying.”
Allegra smiled. She opened her Latin textbook. “If you want, I’ll share Cordelia with you. She just loves meeting my friends. But I can’t speak for Charlie.”
“What does your brother have against me, by the way? I never did anything to the guy,” he said, looking concerned.
“Oh…he’ll…get over it,” Allegra said. She coughed. “Anyway…back to Latin?”
“So, are you guys dating or what?” Birdie asked, when Allegra came home to their shared bedroom that evening shortly after midnight.
“Dating? Who? What are you talking about?” Allegra asked, blushing slightly as she put her books away. They never did get to declensions. Instead they had spent the evening talking about the merits of growing up in San Francisco versus New York. Allegra, a lifelong Manhattanite, had argued that “the city” was infinitely superior in every way—in cultural offerings, museums, restaurants—while Bendix defended the city by the bay for its foggy weather, inherent beauty, and liberal politics. Neither of them had been able to convince the other.
“You mean me and Ben?” she asked Birdie. “You think we’re a couple?”
“Oh, it’s ‘Ben’ now. Soon you’ll be calling him Benny,” her friend teased, rolling an herbal cigarette. It was the latest fashion. Allegra didn’t mind, except that it stank up the room, and Birdie tended to spray too much air freshener to cover it up during inspection. As a result, their room always smelled like a toilet.
Allegra grimaced. “Ew. Not a chance. We’re friends .”
Her roommate blew a huge smoke ring. “Please, everyone sees how you guys act around each other.”
“What? Are you kidding me?”
“Besides, you guys look ridiculously perfect together,” Birdie said with a grin. She had heard Allegra’s rants against the “p-word.”
“Good lord!” Allegra shuddered. She just did not see Ben in that way. She liked having someone to talk to, and enjoyed his company. Besides, they could never be together—she could never have feelings for him, not in that way. Birdie was a Red Blood; she didn’t know what she was talking about.
“Seriously? Worse things could happen than to date him. His family just sold their company for like, two billion dollars. Did you see the paper today?” Birdie asked, throwing the Wall Street Journal toward Allegra.
Allegra read the front-page announcement detailing Allied Corporation’s acquisition of the family-run Bendix group of companies and marveled at Ben’s modesty. His mother had a “business meeting,” which was why she couldn’t make it to Parents’ Day. More like a major shareholders’ conference.
“They are seriously loaded. No wonder he was named after his mom’s side of the family. They have all the dough.”
“Birdie, don’t be crass,” Allegra chided. Even at Endicott, it was considered bad form to be too aware of each other’s provenance. But after reading the news, she could not help but like Ben even more. Not because she found out he was wealthy—she never cared too much about money, even though she had never lived without it—but because, given the extreme affluence of his background, he was humble and down-to-earth.
And she had gotten the feeling, after talking to him that evening, that Bendix Chase wouldn’t have minded having a little less of the stuff people cared too much about, if it meant he could have just a little more of the things that really mattered.
F OUR
The Society of Poets and Adventurers
L ater that week, Allegra was already asleep when she heard a noise outside her window. She blinked, confused. It