She presented the idea to her sophomore class on Wednesday morning, and they looked ecstatic. It was something they could really wrap their minds around, and for once they looked enthusiastic about an assignment. Her juniors and seniors were less thrilled with the poetry they had to write, and she was starting to help some of them with their essays for their college applications. She had her hands full.

The lyrics the sophomores wrote for her were terrific. One boy brought a guitar in, and they tried to put music to some of his words. The assignment was a huge success, and they asked if they could extend the project until Christmas vacation, and she agreed. And she gave most of them excellent grades for what they did. She had never given so many As. And the poetry assignments were surprisingly good too. By Christmas vacation, Victoria felt as though she had won their confidence, and all of them were behaving better in her classroom. Helen had noticed it too. The students looked happy and enthusiastic now when they left her room.

“What did you do to them? Give them drugs?”

“I took my fifteen-year-old sister’s suggestion. I’ve had the sophomores writing lyrics,” Victoria said proudly, and Helen was impressed by her creativity.

“That’s pure genius. I wish I could do that in my class.”

“I stole the idea from my sister’s teacher. But it worked. And the older kids have been writing poetry. A few of them really have talent.”

“So do you,” Helen said with a look of admiration. “You’re a damn good teacher. I hope you know that. And I’m happy that you’re learning to control the class. It’s better for them, and you. Even at their age, they need boundaries, discipline, and structure.”

“I’ve been working on it,” Victoria said honestly, “but sometimes I think I really screw up. There’s a lot more creativity to teaching than I originally thought.”

“We all screw up,” Helen said candidly. “That doesn’t make you a bad teacher. You keep trying and you find what works till you win them over. That’s the best you can do.”

“I love what I’m doing,” she said happily, “even if they drive me crazy sometimes. But they don’t seem as cocky lately. One of the kids even wants to go to Northwestern because I said I loved the school.” Helen was smiling at her as she listened. She could see Victoria’s passion for her profession in her eyes, and it warmed Helen’s heart.

“I hope Eric is smart enough to hire you permanently after Carla comes back. He’ll be crazy if he loses you,” Helen said warmly.

“I’m just grateful to be here. We’ll see what happens about next year.” She knew that contracts would be offered in March and April, and she didn’t know if they’d have an opening for her. She hoped so, but nothing was sure. For now, it was working, for her and the kids and the school. Eric Walker, the headmaster, had been hearing good things about her from the students. And two of the parents had commented that they liked her assignments. She really inspired the kids, and when necessary she pushed them. She thought outside the box, and wasn’t afraid to try new things. She was exactly the kind of teacher they wanted.

And she had stopped eating quite as voraciously after Thanksgiving. Her father’s comment, and her mother’s suggesting Overeaters Anonymous, had slowed her down a little. She hadn’t started any crazy new diets yet, and she was planning to do that over Christmas. She had thought about going to Weight Watchers, but she told herself she didn’t have time. But for now she had eased up on the ice cream and pizza. And she was buying salads and cooked chicken breasts to eat in the kitchen with the others when she got home, and she made sure she had fruit for an afternoon snack. She still hadn’t developed a social life, other than the occasional movie date with Helen, but she enjoyed her roommates. She saw more of Harlan than anyone, because Bill was always with Julie, and Bunny had been going to Boston almost every weekend to be with her boyfriend. She was thinking of moving to be with him. But Harlan was around almost as much as she was. He was single and unattached too. And he worked as hard as she did. When he came home at night, he was exhausted and happy to crash in front of the TV in his room, and meet her for a snack in the kitchen.

“So where are you going for Christmas?” she asked him one night over a cup of tea.

“I’ve been invited to South Beach. I’m not sure if I’m going. Miami isn’t really my scene.” He was a serious man who worked diligently at the museum. She knew he wasn’t close to his family, and wasn’t planning to go back to Mississippi for the holidays. He said his parents were still upset that he was gay, and he wasn’t welcome, which she thought was sad for him.

“I’m going back to L.A. to see my parents and sister,” Victoria said pensively, thinking that her parents had never fully accepted her either. She had been a misfit and an outcast in their midst all her life. Even her size upset them and made her look different. Her mother would have preferred to die than be the size she was, and would never have let that happen. And her father still couldn’t resist remarks at her expense, with no awareness of how hurtful they were to her. She never believed that his cruelty was on purpose.

“Do you miss them when you’re here?” Harlan asked, curious about her family.

“Sometimes. They’re familiar. Mostly I miss my little sister. She’s always been my baby.” Victoria smiled at Harlan as he poured them both another cup of tea.

“I have an older brother who hates me. Being gay was not the thing to be in Tupelo, Mississippi, when I was growing up, and it still isn’t. He and his friends used to beat me up all the time. I didn’t even know why till I was fifteen and figured out why they did it. Up until then, I thought I was just different. After that, I knew. I left the minute I turned eighteen, and came to college up here. I think they were as relieved as I was. I only go back once every few years, when I run out of excuses.” It sounded sad to her and very lonely. But her life at home would have been too, without Gracie.

“I’m the odd man out in my family too,” she admitted. “They’re all thin people with brown eyes and dark hair. I’m the family freak. My father always gives me a hard time about my weight. My mother leaves clippings on my desk about new diets.”

“That’s mean,” Harlan said sadly, although he had noticed the things and quantities she ate when she was tired or depressed. He thought she had a pretty face and great legs, despite the generous middle. But in spite of it, she was a good-looking woman. He was surprised that she wasn’t dating. “Some parents do so much damage,” he said thoughtfully. “It makes me glad I’ll never have kids. I wouldn’t want to do to anyone what they did to me. My brother is a real jerk. He works in a bank and he’s dull as dishwater. He’s married and has two kids. He thinks being gay is like a disease. He keeps hoping I’ll get over it, like amnesia, and remember that I’m straight, which would be less embarrassing for him.” Harlan laughed as he said it. He was twenty-six years old and comfortable about who he was. He was hoping to become a curator at the Met eventually, even though the salary wasn’t great. But he was very dedicated to his work, just as Victoria was to teaching. “Will Christmas be fun in L.A.?” he asked with a wistful expression, and she nodded. It would be because of Gracie.

“I loved it when my sister was little, and she still believed in Santa Claus. We still put out cookies for him, and carrots and salt for the reindeer.” He smiled when she said it.

“Do you have plans for New Year’s Eve?” he asked with interest, trying to imagine her life there. She never said much about her parents, only her little sister.

“Not really. I usually stay home with my sister. One of these days she’ll be old enough to have a serious date, and then I’ll really be up shit creek.”

“Maybe we can do something if we’re both back here,” he said, and she liked the idea. “We can go to Times Square and watch the ball drop with all the tourists and hookers.” They both laughed at the image.

“I might come home from L.A. in time to do that,” Victoria said thoughtfully. “I go back to school a few days later. I’ll see what’s happening out there.”

“Text me and let me know what you’re doing,” he said, and she nodded, and they put their cups in the dishwasher.

Victoria left little gifts on each of their beds for all three of her roommates when she went to L.A., and she had presents for Gracie and her parents in her suitcase. She was happy to go home and be with her family and especially to see Gracie. When they got home from the airport, they all decorated the tree and drank delicious rum punch. It was pungent and burned her tongue a little, but she liked it, and her head spun slightly when she went to bed. It felt good to be home, and Gracie slipped into bed next to her, and they giggled and talked until they fell asleep. And both her parents seemed in good spirits. Her father said he had landed an important new client for the agency, and her mother had just won a bridge tournament. And Gracie was thrilled to be on vacation and have Victoria home for the holidays. She was happy to be there.

Everything went smoothly on Christmas, and her parents and Gracie liked their presents. Her father gave her a long gold necklace, because he didn’t have to worry if it fit, he said. And her mother gave her a cashmere sweater and two books on exercise and a new diet. Neither of them noticed that she had lost weight since Thanksgiving. Gracie did and complimented her, but her praise was never as potent as their parents’ insults.

And two days after Christmas, Gracie got invited to a party on New Year’s Eve, given at the home of one of her friends in Beverly Hills. Victoria had nothing to do. The people she knew were all working in other cities, and two of them who still lived in L.A. had gone skiing. All Victoria did over the holidays was spend time with Grace. And Gracie offered to stay home with her on New Year’s Eve.

“Don’t be silly—you should be with your friends. I was thinking of going back to New York then anyway.”

“For a date?” Gracie looked at her with interest. This was the first she had heard of it.

“No, just one of my roommates. I don’t know if he’ll be there, but we were talking about doing something on New Year’s Eve.”

“Does he like you?” Gracie asked with a mischievous look, and Victoria laughed at the question.

“Not like that. But he’s a good friend, and we have fun together. He works at the Metropolitan Museum.”

“How boring,” Gracie said, and rolled her eyes. She was disappointed that he didn’t sound more promising. She could see that Victoria didn’t consider him an option as a romance.

In the end, Victoria left L.A. the morning of New Year’s Eve. Gracie was going to the party at her friends’, and her parents had been invited out to dinner. She would have been alone at the house, so she decided to go back to New York. She needed to get ready for school anyway. And she texted Harlan, hoping he would be back in New York. Her father drove her to the airport, while Gracie and their mother were getting their hair done. Victoria and Gracie had said goodbye that morning.

“Do you think you’ll come back after you finish the year in New York?” her father asked her on the way to the airport.

“I don’t know yet, Dad.” She didn’t want to tell him that she didn’t think so and was happy there. She didn’t have a wide circle of friends yet, but she liked her roommates, her apartment, and her job. It was a start.

“You would do so much better in another field,” he repeated for the thousandth time.

“I like teaching,” she said quietly.

And then he laughed and glanced at her. “At least I know you’ll never starve.” She marveled at the fact that he never missed an opportunity to take a dig at her or cut her down. It was an important part of why she was in New York. She said nothing to him after that, and sat quietly as they drove to LAX. And as he always did, he helped her with her bags and tipped the porter for her. And then he turned to hug her, as though he had never made the comment in the car. He never got it.

“Thanks for everything, Dad.”

“Take care of yourself,” he said, and sounded sincere.

“You too.” She hugged him, and then walked into the security lines. She boarded the plane and just as she did, she saw that she had a text from Harlan.

“I’ll be back in New York by six o’clock,” he had texted her. She was landing at nine P.M., local time.

“I’ll be at the apartment by ten,” she texted back.

“Times Square?” was his response.