Her eyes moved to Norton. “Well. You brought someone.”<\/p>\n
“This is Norton.”<\/p>\n
Norton held out his hand. “Nice to meet you.”<\/p>\n
Miriam ignored it and looked him up and down.<\/p>\n
“Someone’s doing charity work.”<\/p>\n
“Well. You brought someone.”<\/p>\n
My face warmed.<\/p>\n
Before I could answer, Norton tilted his head. “Jealousy is a sin, ma’am.”<\/p>\n
A few people nearby laughed. Miriam’s smile twitched.<\/p>\n
Mark cleared his throat. “You look well, Daphne.”<\/p>\n
“Thank you, Mark.”<\/p>\n
He glanced at Miriam. “I’m glad you came.”<\/p>\n
I wanted to ask if he’d ever wondered whether Miriam had lied.<\/p>\n
Instead, I said, “It’s good to see familiar faces.”<\/p>\n
“Jealousy is a sin, ma’am.”<\/p>\n
Miriam laughed softly. “Oh, Daphne. Still so careful.”<\/p>\n
There it was. The little needle.<\/p>\n
Careful Daphne. Cold Daphne. Difficult Daphne.<\/p>\n
But this time, I didn’t shrink.<\/p>\n
“Norton and I are going to look at the yearbook table,” I said, and walked away before Miriam could answer.<\/p>\n
At the table, our senior album lay open to the drama club page. Miriam smiled from center stage. I was in one corner, holding programs.<\/p>\n
Careful Daphne. Cold Daphne. Difficult Daphne.<\/p>\n
Norton leaned closer. “You were in theater?”<\/p>\n
“No. I wrote the program notes. Miriam said I had the face for backstage.”<\/p>\n
A woman beside the table glanced over. “Daphne? I remember those notes. They were funny.”<\/p>\n
For the first time that night, my smile came easily.<\/p>\n
Norton murmured, “See? Not everyone remembers her version.”<\/p>\n
“Daphne? I remember those notes.”<\/p>\n
For almost an hour, I moved through the room instead of hiding from it. I spoke to old classmates and even laughed.<\/p>\n
Then Miriam tapped a champagne glass.<\/p>\n
“Everyone?” she called from the stage. “Can I have your attention?”<\/p>\n
My smile faded.<\/p>\n
Norton leaned closer. “Stay with me.”<\/p>\n
Miriam lifted the microphone. “It’s wonderful seeing familiar faces tonight. Old friends, old memories, old stories.”<\/p>\n
“Can I have your attention?”<\/p>\n
Mark stepped toward her. “Miriam. Don’t.”<\/p>\n
She smiled wider. “And speaking of stories, let’s clear one up.”<\/p>\n
My hand tightened around my glass.<\/p>\n
“Before everyone starts admiring Daphne’s handsome plus-one, you should know he isn’t her boyfriend. He isn’t even her date.”<\/p>\n
People turned.<\/p>\n
Miriam raised her glass. “She paid him.”<\/p>\n
“And speaking of stories, let’s clear one up.”<\/p>\n
The room gasped.<\/p>\n
Someone whispered, “Oh my God.”<\/p>\n
Miriam laughed. “She hired an actor because nobody would actually choose her.”<\/p>\n
Phones lifted.<\/p>\n
I looked at Mark.<\/p>\n
He stared at the floor.<\/p>\n
“Say something,” I whispered, though I knew he couldn’t hear me.<\/p>\n
“She hired an actor.”<\/p>\n
He didn’t.<\/p>\n
I turned toward the exit, but Norton touched my elbow.<\/p>\n
“Your choice,” he said softly.<\/p>\n
My throat burned. “I can’t stand there while they laugh.”<\/p>\n
“Then don’t stand there. Walk.”<\/p>\n
I looked at Miriam, glowing under the gym lights like she’d already won.<\/p>\n
I refused to let that happen.<\/p>\n
I set my glass down.<\/p>\n
“I can’t stand there while they laugh.”<\/p>\n
“I didn’t come here to run.”<\/p>\n
Norton nodded once, then stepped onto the stage and took the second microphone.<\/p>\n
“Miriam is right about one thing,” Norton said. “I am an actor. Daphne hired me through a professional agency as her plus-one. Not as a boyfriend. Not as anything shameful. As support.”<\/p>\n
Miriam rolled her eyes. “Support. How sweet.”<\/p>\n
Norton looked at her. “You already knew what I was, Miriam.”<\/p>\n
Her smile slipped. “I don’t know you.”<\/p>\n
“Miriam is right about one thing.”<\/p>\n
“Yes, you do. Think.”<\/p>\n
“Norton,” she warned.<\/p>\n
That was the first time she’d used his name.<\/p>\n
Mark looked between them. “Wait. You know him?”<\/p>\n
Norton nodded. “We were once signed with the same talent agency.”<\/p>\n
Miriam stepped forward. “Don’t.”<\/p>\n
“Wait. You know him?”<\/p>\n
“You were dropped,” he said, “after making complaints every time someone else got a callback.”<\/p>\n
“That’s a lie!”<\/p>\n
“No,” Norton said. “It’s a pattern. You’d insult people, report them for reacting, then cry first.”<\/p>\n
A few people murmured.<\/p>\n
Mark stared at Miriam. “Is that true?”<\/p>\n
“You’re seriously asking me that?” she snapped.<\/p>\n
Norton turned to me and held out the microphone. “Daphne should answer the rest.”<\/p>\n
You’d insult people, report them for reacting.”<\/p>\n
Miriam laughed. “She won’t say anything. She never does.”<\/p>\n
I walked up the steps and took the microphone.<\/p>\n
“I teach literature,” I said. “This week, I taught my students about unreliable narrators.”<\/p>\n
Miriam scoffed. “Oh, please.”<\/p>\n
“An unreliable narrator hides the truth,” I said. “Sometimes by lying. Sometimes by leaving things out. Sometimes by smiling while handing everyone a twisted version of someone else.”<\/p>\n
“She won’t say anything.”<\/p>\n
The room went quiet.<\/p>\n
“In high school, Miriam told people I thought I was better than them because I liked books. She said I was cold because I was shy. She said I was stuck-up because I didn’t know how to fight back.”<\/p>\n
Miriam folded her arms. “You were stuck-up.”<\/p>\n
“No,” I said. “I was scared.”<\/p>\n
For once, she had no quick answer.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Her eyes moved to Norton. “Well. You brought someone.” “This is Norton.” Norton held out his hand. “Nice to meet you.” Miriam ignored it and looked him up and down. … <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":14754,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-14758","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-story"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/storyintheworld.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14758","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/storyintheworld.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/storyintheworld.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storyintheworld.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storyintheworld.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=14758"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/storyintheworld.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14758\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storyintheworld.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/14754"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/storyintheworld.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=14758"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storyintheworld.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=14758"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storyintheworld.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=14758"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}