T
Instant Message Inbox
CallieVernon:
Ohmigod, Heath? Are you kidding? He’s been around the block so many times he even smells dirty.
TinsleyCarmichael:
Tsk, tsk. You know he’s the sexiest guy left on campus … unless you think Easy would be interested in being the society’s next project??
CallieVernon:
Don’t even start with me.
Instant Message Inbox
HeathFerro:
What train u taking to Boostoon?
EasyWalsh:
I’m riding up with Jeremiah from Lucius. 2 seater.
HeathFerro:
Seat this mofo: the girls are gonna give it to me 2nite.
EasyWalsh:
Congrats.
HeathFerro:
Jealous much?
EasyWalsh:
Dude, could you be any more of a girl?
HeathFerro:
I could. But then I’d have to go screw myself.
31EasyWalsh:
U do that.
By six o’clock, presidential suite 605 was party central. The girls had turned the polished mahogany dining room table into the bar, with bottles of wine ordered from room service and several bottles of vodka and tonic water. Enormous trays of foreign cheeses and crackers and other unidentifiable yet elegant hors d’oeuvres crowded the table. Tinsley’s iPod and Bose SoundDock were perched on an end table near the television cabinet, and the TV was tuned to Turner Classic Movies and muted. Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall bantered silently across the black-and-white screen.
Callie, wearing a red
ABS
empire waist chiffon dress with a crinkled, tiered skirt, freshly purchased from one of those tiny, overpriced upstairs boutiques on Newbury Street, had collapsed miserably into a maize-colored brushed suede armchair. The suite itself was stunning—the kind of hotel room that would have impressed even Callie’s picky mother—but Callie couldn’t enjoy it. She missed Brett, who was probably smoking cigarettes with that traitor Jenny right now and giggling about how they got out of coming to this silly party in Boston. Grrr. The thought of Jenny—and Jenny with Easy,
her
Easy—made her reach for her glass of chardonnay.
“It’s almost time!” Sage Francis announced in a lilting, wine-tinged voice. If she was half drunk already, she’d be passed out on the floor by the time things really heated up, Callie thought bitterly. Sage eagerly approached the connecting door to suite 606, which Tinsley had insisted stay closed until exactly six.
A deep, booming knock came from the other side of the door. Sage jumped back, and the girls giggled.
“Go ahead,” Tinsley agreed. “It’s time.” All the girls wore dresses except Tinsley, who had poured herself into a snug-fitting Theory black satin pantsuit. The tuxedo jacket was sleek and low-cut, and there was no room for anything underneath it. She looked like Angelina Jolie the year she wore a suit to the Oscars. “Don’t forget who’s next on our list, ladies.”
“I bet he’s the first one through the door.” Celine Colista adjusted the fresh flowers in one of the half dozen vases scattered around the room and glared resentfully at Tinsley’s outfit. She looked boring and traditional in her slinky black cocktail dress.
“Ladies, ladies, everywhere!” Heath Ferro boomed as he sauntered into the room, wearing a red silk smoking jacket and looking like Hugh Hefner. “That’s what I like to see.” He proceeded to make his rounds of the room, giving everyone a tasteful peck on the cheek and a chance to feel his silky jacket.
“Told you.” Celine nudged Benny Cunningham in the waist.
“Don’t you look debonair,” Tinsley teased as Heath leaned over Callie and gave her a wet kiss on the cheek.
“Or sleazy.” Callie almost jumped at the sound of the familiar, drawling voice. Easy had walked into the room, wearing his Hives T-shirt and the pair of cuffed gray Ben Sherman trousers that he only wore when he had to look dressy. A black fedora was perched crookedly on his head. Her heart started to beat faster. Since they’d kicked Jenny and Brett out of Café Society, Callie had assumed Easy would stay behind with Jenny this weekend. She pretended to be angry with him, but God, all she wanted was to have him kiss her again like he used to.
Heath draped his arm around Easy’s lean shoulders and planted a wet kiss on his cheek. “Don’t be jealous, brother. There’s plenty of love to go around.” Heath grabbed Easy’s fedora and plunked it down on Tinsley’s head.
So why
was
Easy here and not snuggling up with Jenny in one of the empty dorm rooms? Was there trouble in paradise already? Callie was suddenly
much
more interested in the party. She decided to refill her drink.
“Surprised to see you here.” Callie set her wineglass down on the mahogany table as Easy poured himself a stiff vodka tonic.
“Why’s that?” Easy popped a lime slice into his drink and took a long swig.
“You know.” Callie paused suggestively and waited until he turned to look at her before continuing. “Thought you were on probation.”
“Oh.” Easy scratched behind his left ear, something he always did when he didn’t want to talk about something. Callie had to force herself to calm down. Just because he looked distracted didn’t necessarily mean things were over with Jenny. “Whatever. Now that Dalton’s out of there, I don’t really have to watch my back.”
But still … if he liked her that much, wouldn’t he be with her right now and not two hundred miles away, in a hotel room full of beautifully dressed, drunken girls?
Callie moved a little closer to him. “Funny how that happened, isn’t it? I mean, Dalton just suddenly resigns one day.” Callie flicked her hair over her shoulder, trying to give Easy a good view of her long neck, which used to be one of his favorite parts of her.
Easy smiled down on her, and she felt like she had just swallowed some hot chocolate spiked with kahlua, the way it warmed her body up from the inside. “I know nothing.” He raised his eyebrows mysteriously.
“I’m just glad you’re here.” Callie placed her hand on Easy’s bare forearm, and she felt the tingles surging from her fingertips.
Easy stared at her hand. “What are you doing?”
“What?” Callie snatched her hand away and Easy stalked out to the balcony, where Jeremiah and Benny were smoking.
Callie felt a hand on her waist. “You look like a goddess.” She whirled around, her hair flying into Brandon’s eyes. He didn’t seem to mind. In his Italian wool Theory pinstripe pants and black Hugo Boss French-cuffed button-down, he looked exactly like he always did—sophisticated, attractive, and completely boring. “Like Aphrodite. The goddess of love.”
“Uh, thanks.” Callie looked up as someone changed the music to dance tunes. She poured herself another glass of wine.
“Whenever you want a break from this, we can go back to the room I booked. For us.”
“Brandon.” Callie rubbed her hands across her face, threatening to mess up her makeup. But God, what was Brandon’s deal? Did he really think she was going to leave the party to go back to his empty room and snuggle? Ever since she’d kissed him last week, he was acting like they were back together. She glanced around for Easy. “We’re at a party. Act like it.”
“Can you blame me for wanting to be alone with you? You look so gorgeous. I just want to … be near you.” Okay, that was sweet. Callie felt a teeny bit better, but not enough to
leave
with him.
“Can’t blame you for trying.” Callie patted his face. “But stop.”
“You guys look like an old married couple.” Alan St. Girard came up and drooped an arm around each of them. Alan puckered his lips at Callie. “Got any lovin’ for me?”
“Honey … ,” Brandon started.
Honey?
“I am
not
your honey, Brandon Buchanan.” She waved her wineglass at him. “I am
nobody’s
honey, all right?” She glared at him, suddenly furious that the only one who loved her was boring, predictable Brandon. She’d show him. She was
anything
but boring.
“Doesn’t it seem so mellow without Tinsley and Callie around? I can feel my blood pressure lowering as I speak.” Brett stretched out her long legs across the arm of the couch in Dumbarton’s upstairs lounge. With all the girls in Café Society out for the night, the whole dorm felt quieter. She wore a lime green cap-sleeve tee with a pair of wide-leg black pants. On her lap was a plastic bowl filled with buttered microwave popcorn, freshly popped and slightly burned.
Jenny opened one of the dormer windows and waved out some of the burnt popcorn smoke. “I know what you mean.” She breathed in the cold night air, letting it sting her lungs. “The two of them—they sort of make me forget how much I like it here.”
“Yeah. Just tonight, walking across the quad and looking up and seeing all those stars … I mean, the sky doesn’t look like that in New Jersey.” Brett pulled the bottle of Stoli from her red leather Sigerson Morrison bag. It was already half empty. She poured some more into her mug of cranberry juice. “Need a refill?”
“Thanks.” Jenny handed over her mug. Brett was from New Jersey? She’d gotten the impression that she was from East Hampton or else Nova Scotia or something. “I really love it here. It makes me feel so—I don’t know—wholesome.” It sounded moronic, but it was true. Waverly, with its groomed athletic fields and state-of-the-art libraries and art studios, its blue-blood student population with their perfect patrician noses and cashmere sweater vests, was strangely like some sort of earthly paradise. And while she’d felt a little awkward at times, something told her she belonged here.
Brett grinned. “Yeah, it’s probably all the drinking and pot and sex going on that gives you that impression.” She pulled a strand of bright red hair in front of her eyes and expertly scanned it for split ends. “But I know what you mean. I love it too.” Her eyes clouded over a little. “Think how perfect it would be if Tinsley hadn’t come back.”
Jenny didn’t even want to let herself think about that. Yes, it would be heavenly if Tinsley could just evaporate into thin air, if she’d run off with some rich international businessman she met in the halls of the Ritz-Bradley. “It feels like she’s out to get us both.”
“Probably because she is.” Brett sat up and set the bowl of popcorn on the table. “But you know, fuck her. Fuck all those other girls. What are they doing right now? Getting shitfaced. Heath’s probably running around buck-naked, trying to grope everyone.”
Jenny cringed at that unpleasant image. Suddenly she was completely relieved she wasn’t there in Boston, with Tinsley and Callie and the other girls. She was happy to be
here
, eating popcorn with Brett and gossiping. If only Easy weren’t in Boston. If only Easy weren’t furious with her. “I miss Easy.”
Brett popped open the tab of a Diet Coke. “I know. I miss Jeremiah too.” Ever since that day in the cemetery, she’d been thinking about him a lot. She wondered if he was seeing anyone at St. Lucius yet—he hadn’t mentioned any other girls, but it was hard to believe that he could stay single for very long. He was the star of their football team and was sexy in a slightly goofy, natural way that endeared him to all members of the opposite sex. An image of him in his Gap boxers came to her, and she could almost feel her hand running along his sculpted stomach muscles. Mmmm. “Maybe I shouldn’t have broken up with him.”
“Really?” Jenny liked the idea of Brett with a boyfriend, who wasn’t a teacher, and Jeremiah was hot. “He sounds really sweet when you talk about him.”
Brett groaned and took a handful of popcorn. “He
is
really sweet. I don’t know what I was thinking—the whole Eric thing was fucked up.” Brett popped a piece of singed popcorn into her mouth and chewed thoughtfully. “I guess it made me feel special to have someone like Eric take an interest in someone like me. He’s practically, you know, a Rockefeller. ...”
“What’s that supposed to mean, someone like you? Of
course
he was interested in you.” It was hard for Jenny to imagine someone as gorgeous as Brett, and as smart and funny, having any self-esteem problems. They were reserved for people like herself!
Brett sighed and took a long swig from her mug before leaning her head back on the couch. “Yeah, well, if you knew my whole story, you might not think that.”
Jenny’s eyes widened. “What are you talking about? You didn’t, like, murder someone, did you?”
“No, it’s nothing like that. It’s just that I, sort of, have this totally embarrassing family.” Brett pulled a strand of her hair in front of her eyes again and stared at it, like she was trying to avoid looking at Jenny. “And I can’t help it—I’m just, you know, ashamed of it. But somehow I was able to talk to Eric about it, and he made me feel like it was no big deal at all. He almost seemed to like me even more because of it.”
“Well, maybe I should have told you about my father earlier because that would totally have made you feel better.” Jenny sank onto the couch next to Brett and placed her feet on the low, glass-topped coffee table. Not the brightest idea for a dorm—Jenny could easily imagine herself tripping over it after a few more drinks. “He once showed up for this awards ceremony at my school wearing a T-shirt under his blazer because all of his button-downs were wrinkled. Not so bad, you say? Maybe even kind of cool? Well, he wore a
tie
with it. With his
IMPEACH
NIXON
T-shirt
.” Jenny hung her head but had to giggle at the memory. “Parents came up to me afterward and actually asked if my father was homeless. Seriously. Beat
that
.”