“Of course it’s exclusive!” Ashley made a face. “Duh!”
“If we let in too many people, it’ll be harder to keep the whole thing a secret,” Lauren pointed out. Taking a practical approach, she decided, might be more effective with teachers—even someone as flighty and irrational as Miss Charm.
“We’re at maximum capacity as it is,” added Lili briskly.
“I know, I know.” Miss Charm closed her eyes and clasped her hands together, as though she were about to lead them in prayer. “But the administration of our wonderful school believes that it’s only fair if other people have a voice in the planning of the event.”
“So that’s why I’ve come up with a viable solution. Rather than make the Congé Committee too large and unwieldy with additional members, I have suggested a compromise. This year there will be two Congé committees.”
“What?” Ashley was indignant. “Two committees?”
“And whichever committee comes up with the best plan for the day will be awarded the job of organizing it. We will reveal to both committees the week in which Congé is scheduled, but not the specific date. When your plan—or the other plan—is accepted, then I will reveal that date to the winning committee and all final plans will be made. Is everything clear?”
“Clear as mud,” grumbled A. A., tearing out one of her hair bands. “How can we make plans if we don’t know the specific date?”
“And how can you trust this other so-called committee not to blab it around the whole school?” Lauren added. She was starting to get a sinking feeling about who this rival committee might be.
“Please, girls,” Miss Charm pleaded, looking very flustered. “I can reveal to you now, in total confidence, that Congé is scheduled between March 10 and 15. To fully prepare, your committee leader must present your plans by next month.”
“That’s me,” said Ashley, looking at Lili, who only shrugged.
“I then will discuss it with my fellow teachers, and we will let the successful committee—and the successful committee alone—know forty-eight hours before Congé takes place.”
“Sounds good,” Lili said confidently. Lauren had heard that it was usually Lili who came up with the Ashleys’ Congé plans: She was more organized than Ashley and more focused than A. A. Last year, it had been her idea to book a private steam train through Napa Valley.
“But why do we have to have competition?” Ashley complained.
“Think of it as a new challenge for you!” declared Miss Charm with a nervous smile. “I’m sure you girls are up to it. I have full confidence in you.”
“Hello!” said Ashley, pushing her chair back from the table in aggravation. “Of course you have confidence in us! We’re the Congé professionals. Who is this other amateur committee, anyway?”
Miss Charm cleared her throat and flipped open the spiral notebook sitting on the table.
“I believe they are known as . . . ah yes, here it is. The S. Society.”
Ashley groaned. “Just as I suspected. Well, at least one thing’s for sure—we’ll definitely win this competition. If we’re talking about those idiots, they haven’t got an original idea in their heads.”
“Now, now, dear,” said Miss Charm absentmindedly, gathering up her notebook and heaving herself out of the solid chair. “There’s no need for such language. But remember—not a word to anyone!”
As soon as the teacher had left the room, Ashley didn’t seem quite so gung ho. “Those little . . . ,” she ranted. “It’s not a society—it’s just Sheridan and that copycat Sally!”
“Sadie,” A. A. corrected. Lauren said nothing, shrinking into her seat. The last thing she wanted right now was anyone drawing the connection between her and her awful creation, Sadie Graham.
“Whatever! How dare they try to muscle in on Congé?”
“So we have competition—we’ll blow them out of the water,” Lili reassured Ashley. But Lauren observed Lili looking a little worried.
“I just thought of something terrible,” A. A. moaned, her head lolling back in despair. “If we don’t win, we’ll be just like all the other girls in this school.”
“Fashion-backward and lame?” Ashley asked.
“No, I mean out of the loop! We’ll have to study for the tests and do all the extra homework that week, because we won’t know when exactly Congé is going to happen.”
“I can’t do any more than I’m already doing,” Lili whined, pulling out her phone.
“Could everyone please focus?” thundered Ashley. “This is a crisis, in case you’ve forgotten!” She turned to Lauren. “This is all your fault, by the way!”
“Mine?” Lauren protested. How did Ashley know? Of course it was all her fault. She’d created this mess by convincing Sadie Graham that she could be as chic and confident as any of the Ashleys, not realizing that Sadie would instantly turn against her. But how could Ashley know her secret plan?
“You were the one who talked me into inviting these nobodies to my birthday party. No wonder they’re all having delusions of grandeur!” Ashley accused.
Lauren tried not to look too relieved. Ashley was just being overdramatic as usual. She didn’t know. But she was pretty close to the truth. Lauren had to act quickly to throw off any suspicion. “I have an idea,” she declared.
“It better be a good one,” Ashley snapped.
“What I . . . what I was thinking was,” Lauren said, trying to sound more assured than she felt, “I could try to infiltrate the S. Society. You know, Sadie and I used to be friendly. I could try to find out what they’re planning. I’ll be an undercover agent.”
“Like Keri Russell on The Americans!” Lili seemed to like the idea.
“Isn’t Keri a KGB spy? She’s the enemy!” said A. A.
“Lauren will be our enemy if she fails in this mission,” said Ashley, gifting Lauren with a particularly threatening smile. “Here’s the plan. Lauren, find out what the stupid S. Club is up to. If you don’t, you might as well find other people to sit with at the ref.”
“She doesn’t mean it,” A. A. said. Lauren tried to laugh.
“Shut up! The rest of you, start coming up with brilliant ideas for Congé. Our quality of life at Miss Gamble’s totally depends on it! If we don’t win Congé, we may as well drop out of school.”
After this sobering warning, they all filed out of the library in silence, Lauren bringing up the rear.
Unlike A. A., Lauren knew full well that Ashley wasn’t joking. She wasn’t sure how she was going to do it, but she just had to infiltrate the S. Society and find out what they had planned. Otherwise she would be out—out of the Ashleys entirely. So much for all her grand plans this semester.
6
IT’S ALL FUN AND GAMES UNTIL SOMEONE LOSES HER HEART
A. A. WISHED SHE COULD BE all hardworking like Lili, but when school was over, the last thing she felt like doing was more work. She needed to unwind, especially with all this fuss about Congé and the annoying S. Society.
And she needed to hang out with Tri.
Now that they were friends again, A. A. and Tri had made a pact the week after Ashley’s party: They were going to give video games a rest for a while and catch up on the fun stuff they used to do.
“Fun stuff,” A. A. knew, was code for “kid stuff,” and that was fine with her. Some days she was in no hurry to grow up. In fact, she kind of missed the days when she could just play games and ride bikes with Tri and not . . . well, not feel anything.
Feeling things made everything in life more complicated, she decided. Having a boyfriend just wasn’t her thing right now, obviously. Let Ashley gush about Cooper, and Lili moan about Max, and Lauren go all dreamy eyed every time Christian’s name came up. Who cared? She and Tri were friends, nothing more, nothing less—and that was exactly the way she wanted it.
They met up outside the Fair
mont Hotel, where they both lived, A. A. pushing her Raleigh bike, zipping up her nylon jacket to keep the wind out. Tri was messing around in the valet parking area, doing wheelies on his neon green BMX like a pro. A. A. climbed onto her bike and fastened the silver helmet her half brother Ned had given her for her birthday.
“About time!” he shouted, ramming on his own helmet. “It’s freezing out. Let’s get going.” His smile lit up his whole face, and his cheeks were red from the cold.
A. A. thought he looked cuter than ever, with his dark hair falling into his eyes, even though she told herself she wasn’t noticing those kinds of things anymore. “Race you down Nob Hill!” she called, whizzing out into the street ahead of him.
They raced down the hill toward Chinatown, dodging cable cars and pedestrians, turning back for a marathon uphill battle. Sometimes A. A. was way ahead; sometimes Tri was.
Even though it was a cold day, it was sunny and bright. Before too long, A. A. was feeling hot and tired—but in a good way, the way she felt after a strenuous game of soccer, when she’d scored a couple of goals. Lauren was always talking about the amazing home gym her family had built, but this was A. A.’s idea of exercise—getting out in the fresh air and racing about until she was exhausted. This afternoon she felt happy for the first time in ages. Hanging out with Tri was great. Friendship was much less stressful than having a silly boyfriend.
“Need an afternoon nap?” Tri mocked her, waiting for her at the corner of Jackson and Presidio. His bright blue eyes were twinkling. “Ready to admit defeat?”
“As if!” A. A. gasped. She set both feet on the ground, trying to get her breath back. She needed to play for time. “My helmet’s come loose. I have to fix it.”
“That old line.” Tri rolled his eyes, although he looked pretty worn out himself. A. A. pulled off her helmet and adjusted her two pigtails, bundling them together so they didn’t fly into her face when she was riding.
“A. A.! Tri!” Ashley appeared at the door of a boutique, waving frantically at them. “What are you guys doing here?”
“What does it look like?” asked Tri. The smile disappeared from his face.
Ashley ignored him. “A. A., what are you doing to your hair?”
“It keeps blowing into my mouth,” A. A. explained. Ashley raised a critical eyebrow. Ashley was wearing a chic little cardigan over pedal pushers, and her hair was newly blown out and shiny. A. A. felt like a slob by comparison.
“You look kind of bizarre, you know. Someone might see you!”
“So?” A. A. felt defensive.
“Someone from the S. Society, for example!” Ashley tapped one foot on the sidewalk. “Do you want them saying the Ashleys run around after school looking like hippies—or boys?”
Tri gave an impatient snort.
“What did you buy?” A. A. asked her quickly.
“I didn’t buy anything,” Ashley complained. She brandished a large white shopping bag, which was tied with pale green ribbon. “My mother is in that store,” she said, gesturing with her shoulder, “buying stuff for you-know-who.”
“Who?”
“The baby,” Ashley whispered. She seemed embarrassed every time the subject came up. “I don’t know why the stupid thing can’t use all my old stuff. It’s not even born yet, and it has more clothes and toys than I ever did!”
“I guess.”
“And my mother knows I need something new to wear for my date with Cooper on Saturday night. She knows how important this relationship is to me.”
“Oh.” A. A. didn’t really know what to say. She felt intensely awkward. Being friends with Ashley was one thing; being friends with Tri was something totally separate and different. Standing together like this on a street corner talking about relationships only reminded her that there was something unresolved among the three of them. Something to do with secrets, kisses, and lies. In other words, something A. A. really would rather not think about this afternoon.
Because all she wanted to do today was ride her bike and have some fun, not obsess about grown-up things like kissing and breaking up. But here was Ashley and the real world—or the Ashley version of the real world, anyway—to spoil their fun.
“Hey, I’m just going to get some water.” Tri climbed off his bike. “Watch my stuff, okay?”
A. A. nodded, glad that Tri was going to be out of earshot for a few minutes. This whole situation was just too awkward.
“Your mother might be looking for you,” she suggested to Ashley.
“She doesn’t even know I exist anymore,” Ashley sniffed. “Why—are you trying to get rid of me?”
“No—I mean, well . . . it’s kind of weird, isn’t it? Hanging out with me and Tri? Don’t you think? Seeing as you guys broke up and everything.”
“Not really.” Ashley dismissed that idea with a wave of her hand. “The only weird thing is the way you can hang out with a boy all the time when he’s not into you. I know, I know—you’re going to say you’re just friends, and it doesn’t mean anything. Well, you’re probably right. It doesn’t mean anything to him. That’s pretty obvious.”
“What do you mean?” A wave of annoyance swept through A. A.—what was Ashley suggesting? That she, A. A., was so unattractive that Tri could never fall for her the way he fell for Ashley? That A. A. was into Tri but he wasn’t into her?
“You know,” said Ashley breezily. Tri was ambling back toward them, a bottle of water in each hand. He looked about as happy as A. A. felt, as in not at all. “I better go back in the store before my mother buys some heinous matching bunny rabbit PJs for the entire family. Have fun!”
But fun was the last thing on A. A.’s mind now. The afternoon was ruined.
7
THERE’S A REASON THEY’RE CALLED SECRET SOCIETIES
IT WAS TOO COLD TO be standing around on a chilly afternoon outside Nordstrom, but Lauren had no choice. She’d offered to buddy up to the awful Sadie Graham. Make that re-buddy up. It wasn’t easy. Sadie had totally turned on her after discovering the benefits of her makeover. She had agreed to go shopping that afternoon only as long as Lauren guaranteed that Dex would be there to drive them home later.
Dex was Lauren’s good-looking chauffeur and big-brother substitute, not to mention her father’s brainy protégé. Sadie had a huge crush on him, Lauren knew. That made Dex her only trump card right now, and she intended to use it—um, him. Dex would be appalled, but her social survival was at stake!
Sadie was making a point by being late. No doubt she and Sheridan were holding their own Congé Committee meeting after school today, delighted to find out they were allowed to take on the Ashleys. Lauren shivered miserably, huddling over her bag, wishing she’d brought gloves. If she dared, she could run inside and buy a pair. But if she wasn’t out here when Sadie arrived, the monster-of-her-own-making would probably leave. The only gloves Lauren really needed right now were kid gloves, to handle this whole Sadie situation with care.
Her phone trilled, and Lauren tugged it out of her bag. Sadie ringing to cancel? No, thank God. Someone much more welcome.
“Christian!” she practically shouted.
“Hey! What’s up? I’m excused from crew today because my elbow’s still strained.” Christian had popped his elbow during last weekend’s match, which meant they had to call off their ice-skating date later that night and would probably spend the evening playing Monopoly with his mom and stepdad. Not really the romantic evening of holding hands that Lauren had been hoping for. “So, what time are you coming over?”
“Oh! I don’t know. I might be late,” Lauren told him about meeting up with Sadie at Nordstrom, and how it was a spying mission rather than a shopping trip. He seemed bemused by the whole thing. “I have to get on her good side,” she tried to explain.
“Because you want to get into this S. Club thing?”
“S. Society. No, I don’
t want to join them. We want to bring them down.”
“We?”
“The Ashleys, of course.”
“Of course,” he groaned. “I can’t keep up with all the politics at your school. Or is it a religion? The Ashleys sounds like a cult to me.”
“It is, kind of.” She laughed. How annoying that she had to stand around waiting for Sadie rather than go eat frozen yogurt or stroll around the mall with Christian.
“It’s just that I hardly ever get to see you.” Christian didn’t sound too pleased. “If you’re not hanging out with your ‘Ashleys,’ you’re planning that Congo thing.”
“Congé!”
“And now you’re on some kind of spy mission as well. We never get to spend that much time together.”
“I want to—you know I want to!” Lauren protested. Shoppers pushed past her, hurrying in and out of Nordstrom’s revolving doors. Silently, she was cursing Selfish Sadie. “It’s just, things are so crazy right now. And . . . she’s here! Christian, I’m really sorry. I have to go. I’ll try to be there as soon as I can.”
“All right, I’ll save Broadway for you. But I can’t wait forever,” he said, and it sounded like he was annoyed, but Lauren wasn’t sure. There wasn’t any time to obsess about it now, not with Sadie standing in front of her.
This was the new Sadie—aloof and unsmiling, gazing critically at Lauren with her ice-blue contact lenses. Her hair was a perfect golden blond, shiny and smooth as a helmet. And even though she was in the Miss Gamble’s uniform, like Lauren, she looked much more chic than she had a few weeks ago.
She must have taken Lauren’s advice about getting it tailored. Lauren had to admit, the outfit did look kind of cute with those long black and gray argyle socks. She’d already heard girls at school talking about Sadie’s “signature” look. Ashley Spencer had heard this too: She said the very mention of the words “Sadie” and “signature look” in the same sentence made her throw up a little in her mouth.
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