Ever since they’d been over at Ashley’s to watch the disastrous Preteen Queen episode, when she snapped Tri’s head off, he hadn’t dropped by their penthouse apartment once. There was no point in prodding Ned for information. She was close to her stepbrother, but guys didn’t like talking about feelings and relationships. And Ned was preoccupied at the moment with SAT stuff at school, and with training for the big track meets in the spring.
How could A. A. explain that because Tri was dating her best friend, she didn’t feel comfortable hanging out with him anymore? That didn’t make sense at all. Ned would shake his head and say it was all too much teen drama, as if he wasn’t a teen himself.
Her school uniform was too uncomfortable for lounging around, especially the black tights that Ashley insisted they all wear this semester. A. A. slid back down the ladder and removed her uniform, leaving it on the floor, where the maid would rescue it for washing and ironing by Monday. She pulled on her favorite Nuala yoga pants and a soft cashmere sweater and thought about the game they had played at lunch.
Lili and Lauren may not have been paying attention, but A. A. was. Ashley had picked up her can but—and this was important—didn’t take a drink. That meant only one thing—Ashley and Tri had never kissed!
They’d been going out for weeks and acting all lovey-dovey in the most barf-inducing way whenever they were seen in public. But “in public” was one thing. In private they clearly had no chemistry. Ha! A. A. didn’t know why that gave her an odd sense of satisfaction, but it did.
And yet . . . what did it matter if Ashley and Tri kissed or didn’t kiss? It was great to have something over Ashley for a change, but the feeling of triumph was hollow. Even if Ashley and Tri made out every day for an hour after school, it wouldn’t affect A. A.—or it shouldn’t affect her. It was their silly little relationship, and their business. She wanted Ashley to be happy, right? And God knows she didn’t want to kiss Tri. Or . . . did she?
A. A. picked at a hangnail on her thumb. She had to be honest for once and admit what had been bothering her all this time. She’d been lying to herself for too long. The annoying truth was, she did like Tri. She’d liked him ever since she thought he was laxjock, but now that she thought about it, she’d liked him even before that.
He was sweet and goofy and the nicest boy she’d ever met. The way he looked at her with such intensity in his blue eyes, even when they were just making s’mores out of the microwave, gave her shivers. She’d been in love with him for so long she didn’t even know it until he started going out with someone else and she was pierced with such exquisite jealousy she couldn’t even function. Seeing them together was pure agony.
She didn’t dare to hope what this no-kiss situation meant; she didn’t want to get even more hurt than she was already. Even though Tri wasn’t kissing Ashley, he was still technically her boyfriend, and it wasn’t as if he was seeking A. A. out either. Except to give her some unwanted dating advice—the nerve. Either she was in love with him or she hated his guts, or a combination of the two.
Her phone buzzed again. A. A. sighed. It was probably just Hunter again. Ever since they’d met at the party, he’d been calling her every other day or so. After Preteen Queen aired, he’d even texted her. DON’T WORRY—THAT SHOW SUX! U + I KNOW THE TRUTH. HANG OUT 2MORROW?
Tomorrow came and went, but A. A. didn’t see him. Then when he called again, A. A. had tried to make it clear she wasn’t interested. In fact, she was totally blowing him off and hadn’t returned any of his latest calls or texts. It wasn’t really fair to Hunter. He hadn’t done anything wrong. He was a nice guy. He had been good company in the closet.
What was her problem? Why was she still thinking about Tri? He was off-limits. Whereas Hunter was available and more than eager to spend time with her.
She checked the last two texts. She was right, both were from Hunter. The first read: R YOU THERE? TALK 2 ME! The second was more to the point. 7 PARTY 2MORROW. BE THERE! BRING YE FRENZ.
Now this was interesting. Maybe it was time the Ashleys sampled the delights of a notorious “Seven Minutes in Heaven” party so they could see what it was really like.
A. A. was sure that none of the girls would be able to resist the invitation. Lili needed something to cheer her up after that humiliation with Max. Lauren was suddenly the party girl, always bringing up dates and boys, and Ashley . . . well, Ashley couldn’t bear it if a party was going on and she wasn’t all over it. Especially a party they’d been invited to by a cute boy.
Besides, maybe the only way to forget about someone was to kiss someone else. A. A. picked up her phone and replied to Hunter’s message.
SURE! ME + 3. WHERE & WHEN?
21
THINGS THAT GO UP MUST COME DOWN
THE DOORS OF THE PRIVATE elevator that led to A. A.’s penthouse apartment slid open, and Lili stepped out. The Seven party was just six hours away, and she didn’t have anything to wear.
Shopping on a Saturday morning was impossible—she had a tennis lesson immediately after breakfast, and then her art appreciation class—but at tennis A. A. had told her not to bother trawling the stores this afternoon. It was pouring rain, and besides, A. A. had a closet full of things she never wore. Lili could spend an hour or two in comfort, drinking freshly squeezed melon juice and eating whatever she wanted from the Fairmont’s room service menu, trying on all of A. A.’s clothes.
Because it was vital that Lili looked her best tonight. This was her first real social outing since the party after the lacrosse game, and she just knew people would be looking at her. Everyone she knew had seen her kiss Max and seen him dump her on national TV.
At school, Melody Myers had the whole hideous incident on DVD and she and her friends had replayed it, she told Lili, at least a dozen times to try and hear everything else Max was saying before he left the room. Thanks, Melody! Lili was fuming about that. She wished they’d never given Melody the SOA sticker last semester. Seal of Jealousy and Pettiness would have been more appropriate.
Lili didn’t know if Max was going to be at the party tonight. She hoped not. But A. A. had convinced her that the best way to get over him was to go out and have some fun. Playing Seven Minutes in Heaven with some random boy—hopefully even cuter than Max—was just what the doctor ordered, A. A. insisted.
That way, Max wouldn’t be the longest and greatest kiss of her life to date. He would be more like the boy in Taiwan, just one minuscule non-life-shattering experience on the path to grown-up romance. That sounded good to Lili. The sooner she could face Max—and his silent treatment in French every Monday—without feeling depressed and rejected, the better.
Lili found something she liked in A. A.’s closet—a tiny pleated Alice + Olivia skirt and a ruffle-neck Geren Ford silk top. She tried them on and looked at herself in the mirror. “Can I borrow these?”
“Sure,” A. A. called. “Have you checked AshleyRank today?” No other site mattered anymore—not even Snapchat or Perez Hilton.
“I haven’t had time,” Lili said, admiring the way the tiny skirt fit her slim figure. “This will look great with my new suede boots.”
“News flash—Ashley got another bad anonymous ranking.” A. A. rolled to the edge of her bed and gazed down at Lili with a wide grin.
“No!”
“Yes! Someone gave her a three for Smarts.” A. A. snickered.
“Oh.” Lili was a little disappointed. A three for Style or even Social Presence would have been much worse. Ashley didn’t really care about smarts, as long as everyone thought she was beautiful and popular. “Who do you think runs that blog, anyway? Do you think it’s really Lauren?”
“Ashley thinks so. She’s like ninety-nine percent sure that Lauren is the brains behind it.”
“I guess.” Lili sighed, and did another twirl.
“But you know what this means,” A. A. pointed out, dangling her long, slender arms over the side of the bed. She’d had a manicure, Lili noticed—maybe she liked this guy
Hunter after all. A. A. had never paid any attention to stuff like that too much before. “This three for Smarts score.”
“What? That someone thinks Ashley is at second-grade reading level? So what?”
“Think about it. Ashley can’t stay number one for much longer. You don’t have to be a math genius to work that one out. One more bad score could bring her average way down. And you know what that means. . . .”
Lili gasped.
A. A. waggled her eyebrows. “She’ll lose her crown,” she said, saying exactly what Lili was thinking. “And then . . .”
“Someone else will take the number one spot!” Lili spun around, stamping her foot and clutching her skirt as though she were a flamenco dancer. “I can’t wait!”
22
YOU HAVE TO BE CRUEL TO BE KIND
LAUREN WAS NERVOUS. DASHING BETWEEN downpours in and out of the boutiques along Maiden Lane, she felt her stomach twisting into knots of tension. A. A. had invited her to a party tonight, her second real party. And not just any party—her first Seven party. As in “Seven Minutes in Heaven.” Not that she had to play. A. A. said participation was entirely optional.
But that wasn’t why she was so nervous.
This morning, both Christian and Alex had sent her text messages. That party Christian mentioned at the end of watching the killer robot movie? It was the party she was going to with the Ashleys. And that party Alex had talked about during their date? Oh yeah . . . it was the very same event.
She had two sort-of potential future boyfriends, and they both saw tonight’s get-together as their sort-of-third date with her. What was she going to do? She didn’t want to play it safe and stay home. That’s what the old Lauren would have done. The old Lauren wouldn’t have a single boy interested in her, let alone two really cute lacrosse players.
She wanted to go to the party, and she wanted to see Christian and Alex again. But Lauren didn’t want to expose herself as a double-dater or make them feel like she was playing them off against each other. And she really didn’t want them to get annoyed with her for being a liar—a little white liar, but still—and dump her. She’d had a good time with both of them.
It was so confusing: Did she like Christian best or Alex? Christian was so cute and funny, and really easy to talk to. Lauren didn’t feel like she had to put up a front when she was with him. Alex was more serious, even though he was just as hot. She’d loved looking around the museum with him. Maybe tonight would help her decide which boy she should spend more time with. Being on the brink of having an actual boyfriend was scary and exciting. That’s why she was out shopping now, despite the torrential rain and gusty wind, to buy something irresistibly gorgeous.
In the Ted Baker store, it took Lauren only ten minutes to go through the new fall line and decide that there was nothing for her to wear to the party. Once the rain stopped, she was going to make her way to the next store. Or maybe she should just call Dex and ask him to come pick her up. Sometimes shopping wasn’t that much fun, no matter how much money you had to spend, especially if you didn’t have any friends with you.
She was just about to give up when the heavy velvet curtain of one of the bedroom-size changing rooms opened, and Ashley, wearing a simple sweater and a pair of skinny jeans, stepped out. The changing room looked like a bomb had hit it—clothes lay all over the armchair and floor where Ashley had discarded them. Her pale, pretty face broke into a smile when she spotted Lauren standing by the rack of black pants.
“God! Can you believe this place?” she complained, taking Lauren’s elbow in a really friendly way. Ashley was always nicer when Lili and A. A. weren’t around. “Everything is so middle-aged. They used to have cute stuff here, but I couldn’t find a thing today, unless I want to look like Hillary Clinton.”
“I couldn’t find anything either,” Lauren confided.
“You want something for the party tonight, right?” Ashley looked sympathetic. “What kind of look are you going for?”
“I don’t know. Not too dressy, but not casual, either. Maybe I need to go to Neiman’s and speak to my personal shopper.” Lauren wasn’t entirely confident about putting clothes together yet. Unlike the Ashleys, she was still new to this buy-anything way of life.
“You don’t need a personal shopper when I’m here,” Ashley said, flicking her shiny blond hair out of her face. “Let’s get out of this store and go somewhere else. I’ll find the perfect outfit for you.”
Lauren agreed at once. This was an unexpected bonus: getting quality time with Ashley. She seemed less affected than she did at school, more human almost. Ashley’s driver was waiting outside in her father’s tan Range Rover, and he drove them to Union Square. There, in less than an hour, Ashley had found more than a dozen amazing things at Saks for Lauren to try on.
In the shoe department, Ashley insisted that Lauren look for a pair of strappy, studded high heels, because that’s what all the coolest celebrities were wearing.
“I don’t want the heel to be too high,” said Lauren, tugging on a pair of Jean-Michel Cazabats and thinking about Alex. He was taller than her, but not that much taller—she didn’t want to tower over him tonight. Ashley obviously didn’t care about being taller than Tri. Lauren wished she had her confidence.
“Your school shoes are higher than this,” Ashley pointed out with a dismissive wave. Then she looked hard at Lauren, her lip curling into a smirk. “Oh, I get it. You’re worried about being taller than the boys at the party.”
“No! I mean . . . maybe.” Lauren slumped in the chair, hoping that Ashley wouldn’t tease her too much. “Well, there is this one boy I like who might be there. . . .” She knew Ashley didn’t believe she was dating two boys, so she didn’t want to bring that part up.
“Is he short like Tri?” Ashley looked sympathetic.
“No, not . . .” Lauren was about to say “not that short” but stopped herself in time. “He’s just not really tall.”
“Hmmm.” Ashley pondered the problem. Lauren couldn’t believe that Ashley wasn’t grilling her, mocking her, or dismissing the entire issue outright. She looked like she was seriously pondering Lauren’s dilemma. “I’m trying to come up with the most . . . you know, intelligent solution.”
That was kind of a weird thing to say, but Lauren sat silently, waiting for Ashley’s verdict.
“I’ve got it!” Ashley clicked her fingers. “Buy these Michael Kors strappy wedges, because they have only a one-and-a-half-inch heel. Then—and this is the masterstroke, if I do say so myself—team them with that Stella McCartney short skirt and kimono top. The skirt will make your legs look superlong even without a really high heel. You’ll be the cutest girl at the party!”
“That’ll be great,” Lauren agreed, smiling at Ashley. So this was why the Ashleys stayed friends—despite all of Ashley’s machinations and mean tricks. Under the Queen Bee facade was a really nice person all along.
“I mean, most of the girls at the party will be ugly and/or skanky, and very badly dressed,” Ashley continued, handing the box with the approved shoes to the hovering sales assistant. “The only possible competition you have is the Ashleys, and you have nothing to worry about there. Lili is so petite she’s almost a midget, and A. A. is freakishly tall. She’d make out with a vacuum cleaner if she thought it was taller than she was.”
Okay—so Ashley wasn’t that nice. But she was being nice to Lauren for a change, and that felt good. Lauren felt a tiny bit guilty about wanting to be Ashley’s friend only so she could take her down in the future. This was all so confusing. Was Ashley mean or nice? Did she like Ashley or did she loathe her? Things were a lot more complex than Lauren had first thought.
“What about you?” Lauren asked, wanting to stop thinking about her conflicted feelings toward her new style guru. “You’ll be wearing something amazing as usual, I’m sure.”
“Yeah,” Ashley agreed. She sighed and picked at a loose thread in the arm of her chair. “But I’m not going tonight.”
> “No?”
“Tri told me he can’t, so what’s the point? I need to go stay home and deep-condition my hair anyway. Besides, I want my first kiss to be something special, not just because we got shoved in a closet together.”
“What do you mean, your first kiss?” Lauren couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “You mean you and Tri haven’t . . .?”
“Nope. I’m NBK. Never Been Kissed. It’s no biggie.” Ashley shrugged.
“Really?”
“Of course not. That’s why I’ve been making Tri wait. I’d rather wait until the moment’s right. My parents always told me that I’m like a precious jewel, and there’s no point in—how does that old saying go? No point in casting pearls before swine or something?”
“That’s so cool,” Lauren told her. She almost felt guilty for wanting to kiss both Christian and Alex. After Ashley’s confession, she wanted to tell her something in return, because they’d been bonding so well that afternoon. “You know, I’m NBK as well,” she confided.
“Really? But when we played ‘I Never’ the other day, and A. A. asked that question, you took a drink!”
“I just held the can to my mouth,” whispered Lauren. “I didn’t want to look stupid.”
“You really shouldn’t lie,” Ashley said, her face stern. Then she was smiling again. “But it’s okay. It’s just a game. Your secret’s safe with me. I’m the most discreet of the Ashleys, by the way, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
Lauren hadn’t noticed. But she nodded and smiled back at her new BFF, and they walked over to the counter together to pay for her new shoes.
23
HUNTER PLANS A HOOKUP
AS SHE SURVEYED THE SCENE, A. A. thought that the location for the Seven Minutes in Heaven party wasn’t quite as cool as the triplex loft after the lax game. It was in some guy’s basement in Noe Valley. But even basements in this area were pretty nice, given the size of the houses and the amount of money everyone lavished on them.
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