“I love you,” I whispered.
He smiled, pressing his forehead to mine. “Lucky me.”
Then my Blackberry vibrated aggressively against my desk. We both looked at it, startled. I meant to ignore it, but it vibrated again. I frowned. Then it vibrated again. And again. At that point I stood, frowning, and made my way toward it. Austin sat up, watching me curiously. A wall of emails formed in my KissnTell inbox. One was from Perez Hilton’s administrator in response to the Paddington/Little post and simply said: “AMAZEBALLS!!!” Two were from publicists trying to pawn off lame stories on our site. And the last was from an investor hoping to buy a percentage of our company.
My heart nearly leapt out of my chest. I sat down, stunned, and scanned it breathlessly. I was able to digest a couple of phrases. Small percentage of company net worth. $25,000 investment. My mind clouded. I dropped the phone. It landed on the carpet with a dull thud.
“What is it, babe?” Austin asked softly.
I shook my head, looking at him, tears brimming in my eyes. “I think my mom can have her surgery,” I murmured.
25.
STOCKHOLM SYNDROME
Vaughn
Christmas dinner at the Vaughn household was just as pathetic as Thanksgiving. We all basically sat in silence the whole time, so disconnected. My mom tried to make conversation with us, but Matty only gave one-syllable responses as usual, and I didn’t even know where to begin. Everything had changed so quickly that bringing my own mother up to speed seemed impossible.
By that point, it had been two weeks, and Anais and I still weren’t speaking. She was probably waiting for an apology, and I didn’t want to give her one. I was ashamed. Her mom had cancer and I had said all the wrong things. In fact, I had been a total bitch. I knew this on some level, I did. But there was also the Shrew Crew element. In a way, it just seemed easier not to be friends with Anais anymore. But then that meant Stella and Ava were my friends, when the whole entire point of getting close to them to begin with was to get revenge. Wasn’t it?
It was all so twisted. I felt like Johnny Depp in that movie where he plays the undercover FBI agent who befriends Al Pacino to infiltrate the mafia, but then he kind of likes hanging out with Al, and he winds up destroying his marriage and risking his career because the lines of his deception have blurred, leaving him completely and utterly confused. See, the Shrew Crew was kind of like the mafia. I knew associating with them was dangerous, but it was also fun, and they lulled me into a false sense of security. They made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.
I obviously couldn’t admit any of this out loud, so I kept my responses vague and Christmas dinner slugged forward awkwardly. I was still a little peeved about the lame presents I had opened earlier. Surprise, surprise: they completely ignored my list. Like, not even the same ballpark. And frankly, after shopping with Stella and Ava, I had trouble pretending to be stoked about flannel drawstring PJ pants from the Gap, a puffy vest from Old Navy, a twenty-five dollar iTunes gift card, and an external hard drive to “back up my homework.” Normally, I’d call up Anais and we’d laugh at my clueless parents, but that wasn’t an option this year. In fact, I had no one to talk to at all.
Xander was in Aspen skiing with his brothers. Stella’s family was vacationing in Gstaad. And Ava was at her parents’ Malibu home where reception was spotty. I was on the receiving end of one of her mass texts: “happy holidays!!! Xoxxoxo.” My heart had skipped when my phone beeped, hoping it was Xander writing to say how much he missed me, or maybe even Anais, putting our problems aside on Christmas. When I read it, I had never felt so lonely. I spent most of the day barricaded in my room practicing the flute, which I’d been majorly neglecting. Playing it almost made me feel like myself again.
I never thought I’d feel this way, but it was a relief to go back to Cranbrook after winter break. Even though I had to listen to everyone gushing about how awesome their vacations were, and even though Xander didn’t really seem to have missed me at all, and even though Anais, more than ever, sent chills down my spine like a ghost in the halls, haunting me, it was better to be out and around people than be alone in my bedroom with my thoughts. Class, band practice, and planning a party at Ava’s house distracted me from acknowledging all the weird, complicated feelings I’d been carrying around about who I’d become. But in quiet moments, it reared its ugly head.
“Yo, sexy,” Xander barked from the driver’s seat of his souped-up 1975 Mustang Cobra. “You okay over there? You look a little …” He leered at me. “… out of it,” he finished.
I sighed, smoothing the front of the Phillip Lim dress Stella had bought me a few weeks earlier. It was the first Friday night after winter break, and Xander and I were on our way to a small party at Ava’s house. Our first official public appearance as a couple.
I shrugged. “I’m good,” I said, although it was true, I was distracted. Stella and Ava wanted to go to a club after the party and put me in charge of making it happen. I had no plan. Quite frankly, without Austin’s moves or Anais’s instincts, I wasn’t sure I could pull it off. It was one thing getting myself into a club, but a band of rowdy teenagers? Xander stroked the back of my head. I closed my eyes, sighing.
“So, uh—” he started. I opened my eyes. We were making our way up Laurel Canyon Boulevard. Xander scanned my body quickly. “We could stop,” he said, “to, uh, you know…” He glanced at me suggestively. Even though we had technically been together for three weeks, we hadn’t really spent much time alone. Stella and Ava kind of monopolized my days. Other than the kiss at Winter Formal, and one particularly unexpected make out on Thursday after school when he pressed me against the chain-link fence of the tennis courts and rounded second base (though admittedly, there wasn’t much to round), we hadn’t hooked up at all. After the Baron Caldwell fiasco, I wasn’t sure I wanted to. I wasn’t sure I could. I illuminated my phone. It was 8:30.
“Aren’t we going to be late?” I asked. Xander shrugged, making a right onto a little street called Honey Drive.
“Who cares?” he said. He pulled over and stopped the car. I started to panic a little.
“Xander, we can’t just stop here,” I objected. There were houses on either side of us. Anyone could see and call the cops for indecent exposure or something like that. He took off his seat belt, leaning toward me.
“Why not?” he said, kissing me lightly. The second he touched me, I melted.
“Xander,” I protested lamely between kisses. He pulled me over the gearshift and into his lap.
“I’ve wanted you for so long,” he whispered, feeding his belt out of its buckle. I glanced at his crotch warily as he unbuttoned his fly and pulled me on top of him.
“Xander,” I said again, more forceful this time. “Wait.” I pushed myself off of his chest.
He frowned, lifting his arms in a gesture that screamed, What the fuck? But before I could explain, there was a loud knock on the window, just inches from our ears. We jumped, startled. A stern-looking middle-aged guy in pajamas peered at us from the other side. He had been walking his boxer and must have caught sight of us fooling around on his turf. Perfect. Xander threw me back into the passenger’s seat and rolled down the window. I straightened out my dress, flustered.
“Can I help you kids?” the man asked.
Xander floundered, shaking his head. “No, sir …” he managed.
“You lost?” the man pressed. Xander opened his mouth, but no words materialized.
I leaned over to look the man in the eye. “We think we may have taken a wrong turn somewhere,” I said, trying to sound as innocent as possible, even though it was clear this guy was nobody’s fool. “We’re looking for Gould Avenue?”
The man narrowed his eyes at me. “How old are you?” he asked. I flinched. Do I tell him the truth?
“Sixteen,” I said.
The man glanced suspiciously at Xander. “Are you okay?” he asked me. He sounded sincerely concerned. I nodded nervously. Xander just sat there,
frozen, obviously scared shitless.
“I’m fine,” I murmured. The man’s gaze bounced between us. He inhaled sharply, reluctantly satisfied with my response. He adjusted his stance and described the way to Gould Avenue.
* * *
I was still a bit shaken when we pulled into the Goldmann’s driveway. They lived in a surprisingly understated yet totally spectacular modern house perched on a hill overlooking basically all of L.A. I looked at Xander, grunting as he climbed out of the driver’s side. His mood had become even more sullen than usual since he didn’t get any in the car. As much as that man had freaked me out, I was secretly grateful for the cockblock. Whatever Xander had in mind when he dropped trou, I wasn’t ready for it. He trudged up the front steps and I followed, trying to keep up in my unwieldy, cheap stilettos.
Inside, the décor was white and bright and minimalist. The sounds of MGMT and Stella’s shrill laughter filled the room. Xander and I rounded a corner, which opened up onto an enormous sitting room made of floor-to-ceiling windows with a deck suspended over the city.
Stella appeared extremely amused by something Chloe Filion had just said. Chloe gesticulated, brandishing a cigarette and wearing a dress I recognized as Ports 1961, though it looked like the silk muumuus my grandma wore on vacation at her time-share in Fort Lauderdale. To the left, Ava, Ellis Leachman, and Miller Toff were clustered around a walnut, sculptural coffee table playing some kind of drinking game, except instead of red plastic cups and cheap beer like they use in movies, it was Belvedere in crystal tumblers. Xander joined them, helping himself to the frosty bottle of vodka at the center of the table. Stella caught sight of me and threw her arms out, squealing. I made my way over to her, a smile plastered on my face. As she went in to embrace me, she shot me a dubious once-over.
“Oh my God, it’s so cute you wore your new dress right away,” she exclaimed, and I got the distinct feeling that by “cute” she really meant something more along the lines of “sad.” “I always try to wait as long as possible so I don’t seem desperate,” she said.
I shrugged. “I’m very confident in my style,” I countered. “I don’t really worry about how I seem to other people.”
Stella pursed her lips and nervously ran her hands down her rabbit fur vest.
“So what’s the plan for tonight?” Chloe interjected. Stella regarded me pointedly. I retrieved my phone from my purse and scrolled through it as though I had so many options, it was just a matter of choosing one.
I shrugged. “Um, there are a few possibilities …” I said vaguely, without taking my eyes off of the screen. Chloe put a hand on her hip, bringing a champagne flute to her lips.
Stella narrowed her eyes. “I hope one of those possibilities involves Austin Green,” she said a little sharply. I flinched, looking her in the eye. Somehow, I didn’t expect that. It felt like a curveball.
I winced slightly, shifting my weight. “It’s kinda hard to get in touch with him when I’m not speaking to Anais,” I offered. Stella frowned. I had to forge ahead. “They, like, tell each other everything,” I said. “If she’s not speaking to me, he won’t either.”
“I got you Xander without speaking to Odette,” Stella said lightly. I swallowed. She had a point. “Seriously, babe,” she continued. “You, like, have to pull this off. It’s totally pathetic he’s dating her to begin with. If he knew I was interested, obviously he’d—”
“It’s complicated,” I said, cutting her off. I couldn’t bear to hear another word. It was bad enough I was treating Anais like shit. I wasn’t about to go behind her back and plot to steal her boyfriend. Not while her mom had cancer. Well, not ever. I had to stall.
“Aren’t you, like, buddy-buddy with BobbyAnn McGhee from Dynasty?” Chloe interjected, her tone a little suspicious.
I frowned, faltering. “I wouldn’t say buddy-buddy…” I started.
“Why don’t we just she what she’s up to tonight?” Chloe pressed. I bit my lip, fiddling with my phone. Even though I wasn’t friends with BobbyAnn McGhee—in fact, I doubt she’d remember me—I was friends with her hairstylist, Raven. I scanned my contacts and found his cell.
“I’m just gonna give her a call out here,” I said, making my way to the deck. Stella and Chloe nodded haughtily and continued chatting. I closed the sliding glass door behind me and crept to the corner of the deck, so no one could see my pleading expression as I begged Raven to save my ass. It was windy and cold outside. I instantly started shaking. The line rang. I couldn’t decide if it would be better or worse if he didn’t answer. But then his voice appeared on the other end of the line.
“Is this who I think it is?” he asked. I froze. All of L.A. spread out before me, twinkling in the thick, navy haze. “Hello?” he pressed.
“Hey, Raven,” I started shakily. “This is, um, Vaughn. Anais’s friend?”
“Mm-hm. Skinny little string bean girl,” he said. “I remember. How can I help you?” he asked.
I sighed, bracing the railing for support. “I need a favor,” I replied. “I’m with Stella Beldon—”
“Oh Jesus.”
“—and she wants to go out. Like before. Like, with BobbyAnn and them. Well, really she’s after Anais’s boyfriend, but I’m trying to distract her, so—”
“She’s after Austin?” he snapped.
I flinched. “Yeah, she, um—”
“Motherfucker,” he lamented. I paused. He seemed to be ruminating. “Girl’s mother’s got cancer for fuck’s sake. Stella could have any man in the world and it has to be that boy?”
I frowned. “Was that, like, rhetorical?” I asked meekly.
Raven exhaled. “So, what do you want?” he finally said.
“I want to go out someplace fabulous tonight. You’re the only person who can help me.” “Is Anais there?” Raven asked.
“No,” I replied. “It’s just me.”
He sighed. “Okay, well, I don’t have to face your mother every goddamn day so …” He paused. “Lemme see what I can do.”
I exhaled and jumped up and down for a second. “Thank you, thank you, tha—” He hung up.
I reemerged in Ava’s living room, confident, greeted with expectant looks from Stella and Chloe. Xander staggered over, too, apparently already kind of wasted. He slung an arm around me, groping my puny breast. Stella averted her eyes, disgusted. Chloe snickered. I swatted his paw away as discreetly as possible.
Chloe raised her eyebrows. “So?” she said. “What did she say?”
“She’s going to let me know where they’re going,” I said casually. Stella and Chloe nodded while Xander pulled me into a sloppy kiss.
“Ewwww!” Stella groaned. I could see them shielding their eyes and retreating in my peripheral vision as Xander shoved his tongue down my throat. He tasted sour. I could smell the alcoholic fumes seeping from his pores. I squirmed but his grip was too strong.
“Let’s find a bedroom,” he whispered, his stale breath engulfing my face.
I cringed. “Xander, I—” I started, practically holding my breath. “I don’t think we should just leave, you know?”
Xander dropped his arms, frustrated. “Are you serious right now?” he slurred.
I shook my head. “What do you mean?” I asked, flummoxed.
“At least Odette would get down,” he scoffed. “Maybe I should just call her?”
I felt my face flush. I was speechless. I mean, what could I say? No, Xander! Don’t call your gorgeous ex-girlfriend who probably gave you daily blowjobs! Let’s go to the bedroom! I’ll pleasure your penis! His threat didn’t exactly put me in the mood. And I wouldn’t know how to give a blowjob to save my life. I heard somewhere you don’t really blow on it. But then why would they call it that?
I tried to look apologetic and pleading, but Xander was drunk, pissy, and having none of it. He flashed me a look of distain, before taking off in the other direction.
“Xander, wait!” I called after him. Of course he didn’t turn around.
; My phone chimed. I fished it out of my purse, frazzled. It was a text from Raven: “Chateau Marmont, 1 hour.” I sighed. On the one hand, I was relieved, on the other, I felt completely out of control. Were there going to be any celebrities there? Or would it just be Raven and some other old people? How were we going to get in? I didn’t want to annoy him, but that in particular seemed like a valid question. I texted back: “How will we get in?”
It wasn’t long before I received his response: “Say the password: White Rabbit.” I shrugged. Fair enough. I bounded over to Stella, Chloe, Ava, Miller, Ellis, and Xander.
“Chateau Marmont, anyone?” I trilled as though I had been there a million times. The boys sort of grunted, but I could tell they were mildly impressed, even Xander. Ava clapped her hands together while Chloe shouted, “Yes, please!”
Stella slinked over to me, slipping her slender, yoga-sculpted arm around my waist. “Did you invite Austin?” she murmured. I rolled my eyes. Obviously, my plan to distract her was failing. I needed to take a different tack.
“Jesus, Stella, why are you so into him? There are gonna be so many hot guys at the Chateau,” I said.
She bit her lip, apparently considering my question. “I know,” she whined. “I guess I just like, can’t stand that a guy I want could like that fat pig Anais over me,” she said, snapping her arms over her chest. I must have flinched because she quickly added, “No offense.” I nodded, but in my head I was wondering if Odette was thinking something along the same lines about me right now.
“I’ll text him,” I said, shrugging. “But I can’t guarantee he’ll come.” Stella smirked. “Tell him I’m going and I’m DTF,” she said.
I frowned. “DTF?”
“Down to fuck,” she clarified. My eyes widened. “That’ll get his attention,” she said. “Especially after the months of blue balls Anais has probably subjected him to.” Stella laughed, pivoted on her Christian Louboutin shoes, and rejoined the group, gamely shouting across the coffee table.
I was stunned. How could girls like me and Anais compete with girls like Stella, who were not only hot and rich but down to fuck? Does Xander expect me to be down to fuck? I realized I needed to be a hell of a lot less uptight if I wanted to keep him around. I made a silent note to myself to Google how to give a BJ when I got home.
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