Read Online A Fine Imitation by Amber Brock - Free Book Online Page A

mother would die if she knew I was doing this. Really, she would fall down dead.”
    Bea turned Vera by the shoulders to inspect her hair. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid to go.”
    “Not at all. Let’s go.” Vera pressed her fingertips to her mouth. In her excitement, her voice had gotten a bit loud. Both girls sat still, waiting for a creak in the hall or a voice from downstairs, but the building was silent. Vera moved toward the door, but Bea held her back.
    “Don’t forget these,” she said, holding Vera’s shoes. “You are ready, aren’t you?”
    Vera’s face warmed, though her smile didn’t waver. Her blood sang in her veins. She put on the shoes and followed Bea out. The night air tingled with chill, and Vera was glad she had brought her coat.
    “This way,” Bea said, weaving through the shadows to avoid the quad, lit brightly by the moon. They snuck across the lawn to the gravel road, where a Ford sat. In the car, Vera counted three shadowy forms. Bea got into the front seat, and arms reached out to help Vera into the back.
    “Took you long enough,” the boy in the driver’s seat said. He turned the key, and the car roared to life.
    “Be nice,” Bea said, with an exaggerated wag of her finger. “You’re in the presence of ladies now.”
    The boy snorted. “I don’t know your friend, but if you’re a lady, then I am.”
    “Maybe I should introduce you,” Bea said. “Vera, this is my cousin, Harry Morton. Harry, this is Vera Longacre.”
    Harry turned his attention from the bumpy drive to the backseat. “Longacre, you say? Well, now. It is nice to meet you.”
    “I think she prefers to be called Vera,” Bea said, her tone dry. “I just wanted you to know you’re in polite company.”
    “Looks like I’m in society,” he said.
    “Don’t listen to him, Vera.” Bea faced Vera after a hard swat to Harry’s arm. “Introduce your friends, Harry, don’t make Vera think you were raised in a barn.”
    “The goofy mug on the far end is Gene,” Harry said. “The one breathing all over you is Cliff.”
    Vera turned to the boys sharing the seat with her. Gene looked like a cornstalk, tall with gangly limbs and tufts of light blond hair. He shot Vera a toothy grin and waved. Cliff was a handsome athletic type, with red waves and a somber affect. He nodded at her.
    “Pleased to meet you,” she said. She scooted up to the edge of the seat to get close to Bea’s ear. “Where are we going? You never did say.”
    “To the lake. The boys are building us a bonfire.” Bea pointed to the fork ahead in the road. “Harry, that’s our left.”
    Harry obediently steered the jostling Ford to the left.
    “Is this your car, Harry?” Vera asked.
    “It is indeed. A congratulatory gift from my father for my excellent grades last year. Father knows I like the newest toys, but this was a surprise,” Harry said.
    Concealed by the darkness, Vera raised her eyebrows. If Harry’s family had bought a college-age boy his own car, that told her everything she needed to know about their wealth.
    Gene leaned over Cliff. “So, Vera, how do you like Vassar?”
    “I like it very much.”
    “Are you a junior like Bea?”
    “A senior.”
    “And do you study anything in particular?”
    Vera groaned inwardly. This was turning into one of those conversations she had with her parents’ friends. The patronizing guesses at what her work must be like or what they actually do at women’s colleges would come next. And the gentlemen always liked to get in a little dig about the higher education of women in general. A glance at Gene’s smiling eyes made her more sympathetic, and she pushed back her reluctance. “I’ve concentrated on art history. The Spanish masters mainly, but Vassar has a wonderful program. The instructors give a thorough grounding in all the major movements and European schools.”
    “I took an art history class,” Gene said, “but I’m afraid I was hopeless at it. Couldn’t tell any of