She finally made it outside the auditorium and slipped out the school’s back door and through the back alley that took her to upper Broadway. The park wasn’t too far away, but she wanted to get there early to scope out the scene. She told herself that whoever laxjock turned out to be, she would stick it out and meet him. She wouldn’t pull a disappearing act, even if he turned out to be a fat, homeschooled loser. Please, don’t turn out to be a fat, homeschooled loser, she prayed.
Huntington Park was one of San Francisco’s beautiful public squares, modeled after similar ones in Paris. When laxjock had suggested meeting there, A. A. had readily agreed. She’d always been fond of the Fountain of the Tortoises, a copy of the famous Roman fountain, which depicted water nymphs and cherubs prancing in the water, and had told him so. He said it was one of his favorite spots in San Francisco as well.
The park hummed with afternoon activities. There were dog walkers holding leashes to packs of dogs, a group of little kids from a nearby day care center at the children’s playground, and several elderly couples sitting on the opposite benches taking in the fresh air.
She fiddled with her scarf and pulled it tightly around her head. She had decided against her customary pigtails, fearing they would make her look too young. As the minutes ticked by, she thought of texting him again but forced herself not to. He would show up, she told herself. A. A. watched the water trickle down from a nymph’s hands into the calm blue pool. She walked over and threw a quarter into the water, an investment in a wish. She was ready to meet the guy who’d made her heart beat ever since sending her that first romantic e-mail.
DO I KNOW U? she’d texted just a few days ago.
MAY-B, he’d replied. I’M CLOSER THAN U THINK.
The setting sun blinded her eyes, and she blinked. When the sunspots faded away, she could see clearly. There was a boy walking toward her.
Her heart thudded so hard in her chest she was sure the punk-rock couple making out in the bushes across the way could hear it.
The boy walking toward her was Dex Bond.
And he was wearing a black baseball cap.
33
REVENGE OF THE NERD
BACK AT MISS GAMBLE’S, LAUREN page stood in front of the entrance to the Little Theater. She could hear the music throb from inside, so loudly that it shook the auditorium doors. It sounded like they were really tearing it up at five o’clock in the afternoon. Nobody could accuse private-school girls of not knowing how to par-tay.
She knew the Ashleys probably thought she had fled the city for good, or transferred over to Helena Academy, or spent the last four days in bed with the covers over her head. But none of that had happened.
Due to a happy coincidence, the day after the sleepover, her dad had been called away for a technology conference in Washington, and the whole family was invited to have dinner at the White House the day after that. Her mom decided to pull her out of school so she could join the dinner with the president’s family, and afterward they had been stuck in the capital because freakishly bad weather had grounded all flights, including private jets.
They had returned to the city just that morning, and while part of her felt like disappearing into a dark hole and never coming out, the other part—the part that had been motivated enough to pursue a life-changing makeover and invite the Ashleys for a shopping spree on Robertson Boulevard—had come up with an alternative solution.
Sure, she could return to school and suffer through another round of the Ashleys’ teasing and indifference. She could go back to eating her lunches alone in the computer room and keeping her head down in the hallways. She could go back to a thousand little indignities that made every day unpleasant.
Or she could do something about it.
She heard his footsteps behind her. This was just so perfect she couldn’t help pinching herself. She turned around and smiled at her date.
Billy Reddy.
She was actually going to show up at the mixer with the great Billy Reddy at her side.
So she’d had to promise she was going to get the whole upper form to watch the next Gregory Hall lacrosse game. But how hard could that be? Dex had told her the team had made the play-offs, but it was a pity that Reed Prep, their opponent, had a huge fan section since it was a coed school, while Gregory Hall was all boys.
“Cheerleaders,” Dex had said. “We need cheerleaders.”
As if the Ashleys would turn down a chance to show off their dance-team moves.
She pushed open the door, feeling her skin tingle with anticipation. It was dark inside the Little Theater, and she couldn’t see very well with all the flashing strobe lights, but she could make out the forms of Ashley Spencer and Ashley Li onstage, dancing in a circle with several Gregory Hall boys.
As usual, the Ashleys had commandeered the best location, the place where everyone could see them and they could look down over everyone. They always maneuvered it so that they were on top of everything.
Well, not this time.
34
SOMEDAY YOUR PRINCE WILL COME?
DEX WALKED BRISKLY TOWARD THE fountain. He was wearing a black baseball cap and carrying a bouquet of roses. A. A. felt so elated she couldn’t even speak for a moment. It’s him. I knew it. He looked even more handsome than she remembered.
She couldn’t stand it anymore. “Dex!” she called, waving.
He broke stride and looked around. Then he spotted her, and a big, goofy grin came over his face. “Hey, Ashley Alioto, right?” he asked, squinting at her.
“Dexter Bond,” she said coyly.
He sat on the bench next to her and placed the bouquet of flowers between them.
A. A. tugged on the Hermès scarf. It was a present from the fashion house to her mother for starring in one of their ad campaigns a long time ago. She’d figured it would look nice with her dark hair. “I’m wearing red,” she said, thinking it was an odd way to start a conversation with laxjock—Dex—but she felt suddenly shy.
Online, she could tell laxjock anything. But now that he was actually sitting next to her, it was like she’d hit the mute button. But when he didn’t respond, she tried again. “And you’ve got a black baseball cap on.”
“Yeah. Giants game later today,” he said, craning his neck to watch the kids down by the playground.
A. A. felt a chill in the air, even though there was no breeze. This was so not the way she’d pictured it happening. He hadn’t even handed her the flowers yet. She let out a short, sharp laugh. Then she noticed that there were other guys in the park, and most of them were wearing black Giants baseball caps. The city must be filled with guys wearing them.
“You have no idea what I’m talking about, do you?” she asked.
“Talking about what?” Dex said. He smiled at her, but his eyes were focused on the playground.
The small seed of doubt began to sprout, take root, and flourish.
“And those aren’t for me either?” she asked, pointing at the flowers.
To his credit, Dex, ever the gentleman, didn’t respond in the negative right away. “Er . . .”
The hope in A. A.’s heart began to wither. “No, it’s okay. I don’t even know why I asked.” Only then did she notice that there was a reason Dex kept looking over to the children’s playground. The kindergarten teacher was very pretty. A. A. looked over at Dex and knew the truth.
“How long have you been dating her?” she asked.
Dex clasped his hands behind his back. “That obvious, huh?” He smiled sheepishly. “She’s twenty-five, a little old for me. So I like to keep it on the down low.” He picked up the flowers on the bench. “Do you think she’ll like them?”
A. A. nodded. “She’ll love them.”
“Nice seeing you, Alioto. Hey, shouldn’t you be at some dance?” he said.
“I’m meeting someone,” she explained.
“Ah.” Dex nodded and took his leave. She watched him approach the kindergarten teacher shyly. The girl looked delighted at th
e sight of the flowers.
Then A. A. looked at her phone. No texts. No messages. It was an hour after they said they’d meet.
Whoever laxjock was, he wasn’t coming.
35
ASHLEY SPENCER DOESN’T SETTLE FOR SLOPPY SECONDS
NOTHING COULD EVER TAKE ASHLEY spencer off guard, and if she was surprised to see Lauren Page arrive at the dance on the arm of Billy Reddy, she didn’t show it. She watched the two of them make their way over to where she was standing. “You’re alive,” she said flatly to Lauren.
“As far as I know, you can’t die of embarrassment,” Lauren replied. “Ashley, have you met . . .”
“I’m Billy Reddy,” said Billy, extending his hand over the seafood platters in front of them at the buffet station.
“Hi.” Ashley smiled, shaking it. He was absolutely gorgeous. The tousled hair, the toothpaste-commercial smile. But somehow Billy didn’t look as cute up close as he did from afar. It was like the time her parents took her to an American Idol concert, and they’d been able to go backstage and she’d met the stud she’d been crushing on for so long her fingers would bleed from voting for him a hundred times every week on her cell phone. It was kind of anticlimactic to realize that he was just some normal guy, who looked shorter than he was on TV and had a little body odor from performing.
Billy Reddy didn’t smell, but now that he was standing right in front of her with his hand out, he didn’t seem to be the Cutest Boy in the World, either. He was just some good-looking guy. And there were tons of good-looking guys in the city. Besides, what high school sophomore would be caught at a dance with seventh graders? Wasn’t that a bit creepy-geeky? And he was with Lauren. As her date. Gag.
“I’m Lili,” Lili said, coming between them.
Billy and Lili began to talk, and Ashley moved down the buffet line. She had assumed correctly, there was nothing she could eat on the menu. She was glad she’d bullied Lili into ordering the special cupcakes. At least she would be able to eat those. She felt a nudge on her arm and turned around to see Lauren standing next to her.
“So you’ve finally met Billy,” Lauren said.
“Yeah.” Ashley shrugged.
Lauren looked physically deflated. “Listen—I’m really sorry about what happened the other day. I know I overreacted. I didn’t mean what I said.”
“That’s fine,” said Ashley. “But it doesn’t change anything.”
“Why not?” Lauren cried, her voice inching up another octave. The girl really needed to chill out.
“It just doesn’t. Oh, there’s Tri,” Ashley said, as Tri walked up carrying a plate of mini cupcakes. Just what she was looking for.
“Want one?” he asked. He was so thoughtful. The perfect gentleman.
“Sure,” she said, picking up one of the delicious-looking treats and taking a bite.
Lauren was still standing next to her, looking lost and uncertain.
“Shoo,” Ashley told her. “Leave me and my friends alone, Zero.”
“What was that?” Tri asked, looking curiously from Ashley to Lauren.
“Nothing,” Ashley dismissed. She took another bite of the cupcake. “I was just saying . . .” Then she realized that she couldn’t breathe. And that her mouth was on fire. There was something horribly, horribly wrong. But before she could think of what it was, she blacked out.
36
BUTTERCREAM CUPCAKE, OR AGENT OF DEATH?
SOMEONE WAS SCREAMING. LILI TORE herself away from Billy’s side and ran over to where Lauren was standing over Ashley’s prone body. Ashley was just lying there, clutching a cupcake in one hand.
“What did you do to her?” Lili accused.
“I didn’t do anything!” cried Lauren. “She just fell!”
“Nobody just falls!” Lili screamed. “Ashley? Ashley? Can you hear me?” She knelt down by Ashley’s body. It was still warm. She shook her. Hard.
“What the hell happened?” Lili demanded.
“Nothing, she was just standing there, and then she hit the ground,” said Lauren.
“Well, something must have happened!”
Lili looked at Lauren. “What are you doing back at school, anyway? I thought you were dead.”
“I’m not dead,” Lauren retorted. “Is that what you guys told everyone about me? I was wondering why everyone was looking at me funny.”
Lili didn’t respond. She picked up Ashley’s hand and tried to feel a pulse, but she was so panicked she couldn’t figure out if she could feel anything. A rising tide of emotion swept over her. Ashley Spencer was dead. So why did she feel . . . happy?
“What’s happened?”
A voice brought her back to her senses. Lili turned around. A. A. stood there, her cheeks flushed. She had on a red scarf that she hadn’t been wearing earlier.
“Thank God you’re here,” said Lili, pushing away all thoughts of how she would be the most popular girl in the class now that Ashley had met her demise. “It’s Ashley!”
“Hey—should we call 911 or something?” said Billy Reddy, walking over. A few more people began to surround them, to see what the commotion was all about.
“What’s wrong with her?” A. A. asked, dropping down on Ashley’s other side.
“I told you, we were just talking and then she fell. No, wait.” Lauren shook her head. “She took a bite of the cupcake and then she fell. What was in those cupcakes, Lili?”
“Nothing. They’re just cupcakes. Plain vanilla cupcakes.”
“When she took a bite, she had some sort of spasm before she passed out. It could be an allergic reaction. Is she allergic to anything?” asked Lauren.
“No. Not as far as I know,” Lili said, shaking her head. What was Ashley allergic to? Nerds? Zits? Bad fashion?
“Peanuts! She’s allergic to peanuts,” A. A. said suddenly. “She told me last month after the tea when I asked her why she wouldn’t eat any of the scones when they were so yummy. And she asked the waiter at the Ivy if there were nuts in her salad. She always does that. Remember at the sleepover she said she didn’t know what peanut butter tasted like?”
“But there aren’t any peanuts in the cupcakes,” Lili said. “I told you, they’re just plain vanilla!”
“But peanuts could be anywhere. In the batter. In the frosting. Lots of things are made with nuts. Ashley said almost anything can have trace amount of nuts, which is why she only eats food prepared by their chef,” said A. A.
“Omigod!” Lili wailed. So that’s why Ashley wanted the cupcakes made from a special recipe. Except she had told the bakery to go ahead and make their usual batch.
“I’ve killed my best friend!” Lili screamed. This is the worst and best day of my life.
37
DING-DONG, THE WITCH IS DEAD?
I’VE KILLED ASHLEY SPENCER, LAUREN thought. This is the best and worst day of my life. She was the one who had convinced Lili to forget about the special recipe and just order the regular cupcakes. What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. She’d just assumed Ashley was being precious and diva-like. She didn’t know Ashley was allergic. Did they have jail sentences for twelve-year-olds? But it was an accident!
“Somebody do something!” A. A. screamed.
Then Lauren remembered something she’d read in Teen Vogue during her makeover madness, when she was boning up on how to be an Ashley. There’d been an article on a girl with a peanut allergy, and the article had talked about what to do in case of an emergency. Lauren knelt down and lifted the hem on Ashley’s skirt, stopping to admire the dress. It was really cute. Kate Bosworth for Topshop? It had to be.
“Stop that! What are you doing?” Lili demanded.
“Saving her life,” said Lauren. “She has to have it somewhere on her body. That’s the only way. Yes. Here it is.” Lauren pushed the skirt aside and showed them.
Ashley was wearing some kind of garter on her thigh, and tucked into the garter was a slim silver pen. But Lauren knew that instead of a ballpoint it held a needle. The a
rticle said that all people who suffered from a nut allergy had to carry it on their person. The girl in the article carried it on her thigh, and knowing how much of a slave Ashley was to Teen Vogue, it was no surprise that she did the same thing.
“It’s an antidote. I have to give it to her now, if she’s going to make it,” Lauren said, taking the needle—an EpiPen, the article had called it.
“Do it!” yelled A. A.
“One, two, three,” Lauren said. Then she poked Ashley in the arm with the needle.
Lauren thought Ashley would immediately sit up and spring back to life. But instead, nothing happened. Ashley still looked dead. Her eyes were closed. Her face was blue. She wasn’t breathing.
It was too late.
Lauren sighed. She was definitely going to jail. She would never get into Exeter now. She imagined her future. On the one hand, it would be a lot better now that Ashley Spencer wasn’t around to tell all the kids in class that she was a loser. But on the other hand, she would be in jail. Did they have Advanced Placement classes in Juvenile Hall? Sure, she had wanted Ashley taken down. Destroyed. But not in the literal sense. She wasn’t a psycho.
Then Ashley blinked and opened her eyes. She looked around. She saw the EpiPen in Lauren’s hand, the surrounding crowd of onlookers, and her skirt bunched around her waist.
“Omigod!” Ashley gasped. “Did all these boys see my underwear?”
38
THE DANGER OF LOOKING FOR LOVE IN ALL THE WRONG PLACES
ASHLEY WAS ALIVE. THANK GOD for Lauren’s quick thinking. She’d saved her life. A. A. gave a huge sigh of relief. Knowing that her best friend would live took the sting out of being stood up by laxjock. So it wasn’t Dex after all. But who could it be? She had no idea.
The Ashleys Page 15