Camilla by Madeleine L'Engle

in bed holding each other close and they smiled at me, and my mother said, “Darling, do you forgive me?”
    And my father said, “It was all my fault; it was all my fault,” and I left them, each trying louder than the other to take the blame.
    On the breakfast table I found two books my father had heard me mention wanting. Carter said, “Your father told me these books were for you, Miss Camilla. I think he brought them home last night. I suppose the poor dear man was too upset to give them to you then.”
    I looked at Carter but I did not say anything and I ate my breakfast in silence with Carter hovering over me and looking terribly important and knowing; and then I called goodbye to my parents and left for school. And I was happy because I thought that now Jacques was out of the apartment and out of our lives forever and everything would be as it used to be.
    Luisa was already in the classroom when I got there and she said in a cold voice, “So.”
    â€œSo what?” I said, and at her unexpected anger my happiness fled.
    â€œYou know what I’m talking about,” Luisa told me and pressed her lips together thinly.
    â€œI haven’t the faintest idea,” I said, and I sat down at my desk and opened the lid and began tidying it. I put all my pencils and pens in my pencil box and arranged my books in neat piles, and Luisa stood by me, scowling ferociously and waiting for me to say I was sorry or ask her what was wrong; and I didn’t say anything at all.
    Finally she said, “You went out with Frank yesterday evening.”
    â€œYes,” I said. “Why not?”
    â€œBut you didn’t come by the apartment afterward.”
    â€œIt was late and I had to get home.”
    â€œBut you’re my friend!” Luisa said.
    I shut my desk lid firmly. “That doesn’t mean I can’t be friends with Frank too.”
    Luisa scowled ferociously. “Frank isn’t good for you.”
    â€œOh, shut up,” I said.
    And then, right there in the classroom, with other girls coming in and out, Luisa burst into tears. It was the first time I had ever seen her cry. I had seen her nearly cry lots of times; but always by stamping, or walking about, or talking in a loud voice, she had been able to stop herself. Now she stood there with her face all screwed up and said, “Oh, golly, somebody’ll see me!”
    â€œStop crying,” I said. “Stop crying at once!” I stood up and banged my desk lid for emphasis.
    Luisa went over to her desk and lifted up the lid and shut it down on her fingers so hard that the pain in her fingers made her forget everything except the pain and she was able to stop crying. Then she said, “Camilla, what’s wrong? I’ve never seen you like this before.” Her voice was small and hurt.
    â€œI’m not any different,” I said. I didn’t know whether I was telling the truth or a lie.
    Luisa took her fingers out from under the edge of the desk lid and held them in her other hand. “I’m sorry if I sounded nasty about Frank.” It was the first time she had ever apologized about anything. “But he really isn’t good for you, Camilla. He’s too old for you anyhow. He’s seventeen. I know about people and you don’t. He isn’t good for anybody. He’s let the Mona-Bill business make him awfully neurotic.Sometimes I think boys take things much harder than girls. And he thinks he’s such a brain. He thinks he knows everything. And then his moods. He gets into the most gosh-awful glooms. Black as thunder for hours. But I suppose if you want to go on seeing him it’s up to you.”
    â€œYes, it is,” I said. “But it won’t make any difference with you and me.”
    â€œNo.” Luisa sounded sad. “I suppose it won’t.”
    â€œHow’re Mona and Bill?” I asked, because I knew she wanted me to ask