The Friends We Keep(4)

Evvie shook her head. “I always get that. I was in the other show. The Perfect Family? I don’t know if it even made it to the UK.” She was lying when she said that, attempting to play it down, because she knew perfectly well it aired in the UK. Her grandmother used to phone her after every episode to make sure she wouldn’t be as naughty in real life as she was on the show.

“I loved that show!” said the first blond girl, peering at her closely. “You were Yolanda, right? Oh my God! What are you doing here?”

“My mom’s from London,” explained Evvie. “Actually, she’s from Jamaica, but they came to London when she was a little girl. She moved to the United States when she met my dad, but they got divorced last year and she moved back here. With me. And now I’m a freshman here.” Evvie shrugged, wishing she had shut up. She always said too much when she was nervous.

“We have someone famous at our university!” said one. “Do you need help with that trunk?”

“I would love that,” Evvie said as the girls looked over at the crowds of people on the street, many still unloading cars. Other students strolled by on the other side of the road, curious about this year’s new students, the boys scanning them for fresh meat.

“Dan!” shouted one of the girls. “Rupert! Get over here and help get this trunk inside. This is Yolanda! From The Perfect Family!”

“I’m not Yolanda,” Evvie corrected them, embarrassed. “I’m Evvie. And thank you so much.”





two


- 1986 -



Her room was on the second floor. Dan and Rupert lugged the case up the stairs, down the hallway, and into a big room at the end. There, a large, dark-haired girl was refolding all her clothes and putting them away in the one closet, which she had already marked in half with masking tape.

“You must be Evelyn,” she said, friendly, even though she eyed the boys suspiciously. “I’m Victoria Charles. Are these your brothers?”

Evvie almost laughed out loud. How a half-Jamaican, dark-skinned girl from America would have two fair-haired chinless wonders as brothers was beyond her, but she just shook her head.

“This is Dan and Rupert. They just helped me. Guys, thank you so, so much. Can I give you this?” She reached into her pocket and brought out the two-pound bills she had secreted there while the boys were hauling the trunk ahead of her. She had been brought up to always thank by tipping. It was the American way. The boys looked at her proffered money and laughed in disbelief.

“You’re joking,” said Rupert. “Are you tipping us?”

“I’m just . . . thanking you. You can have a beer on me.”

“Done,” said Dan, darting forward and taking the money. “Thanks very much! Have a good day!”

That last bit was said in what sounded suspiciously like a bad American accent, and Evvie knew she had done the wrong thing. Fuck. Oh well. How was she supposed to know? The boys left the room, and she heard them laughing all the way down the hall.

“Tipping isn’t really the done thing over here,” said Victoria, pushing her glasses back on her nose. “I think you may have just offended them.”

“Oh no,” said Evvie. “That’s embarrassing. Fuck. Should I apologize?” She noticed that Victoria winced when she swore, and silently berated herself, taking in, for the first time, her new roommate’s neat kilt and tucked-in sweater, her flute resting on the shelf, the sensible shoes lined up in the wardrobe.

This was clearly not going to be a match made in heaven. Evvie had no idea what they could possibly find in common.

“My parents just left, which is such a shame.” Victoria rushed in to fill the silence. “They were hoping to meet you, so I’ll have to take a photograph of us and send it to them. I have a kettle”—she gestured to a kettle on the desk—“and I brought two mugs. One for you and one for me. Which one would you like?”

Evvie went over and picked up the mugs. One had a cartoon of a fluffy cat surrounded by hearts and read, Catpuccino. The other had a different cat and said, List of People I Love: Cats.

“I guess you like cats then?” said Evvie, who was much more a dog person herself.

“These are my babies.” Victoria picked up a photo of two cats on a bed. “Fluffy and Buttercup. They’re the loves of my life.”

“Adorable,” said Evvie, who had never quite understood what people could possibly find adorable about cats.

“So, which one do you want?” Victoria gestured at the mugs. This was clearly very, very important to her.

“I’ll take Catpuccino,” said Evvie, wondering who she might have to talk to in order to get her roommate switched.

“That’s just what I was hoping.” Victoria broke into a big smile. “I hope you don’t mind but I have to practice my flute every day for an hour. Luckily for you, I’m rather good.”

“There aren’t music rooms you can practice in?”

Victoria’s face fell. “There are, but not in halls. Is the flute a problem?”

“I’m sure I’ll get used to it,” Evvie said, praying Victoria was as good as she claimed. “Have you explored the dorms yet? Met any of the other girls?”

“I haven’t. I wanted to get my room set up first. Have you?”