All That Glitters

by J. Minter

“Flan,” Camille called out from the kitchen, “we need you. We can’t figure out how to work the blow torch for the chocolate crème brûlée.”

  “I’ll be right there.” I sighed and heaved myself off the couch. Tomorrow, I thought. I’ll have to figure it all out tomorrow.

  Chapter 26

  The pop star boyfriend patches things up

  By the time the clock struck two a.m., twenty-four trays had been filled with yummy Virgil-worthy noshes, and Ramsey, Harper, Amory, and Morgan were drying the last of the non-dishwasher-safe dishes.

  “You guys are lifesavers,” I said as the four of them lined up at the door to put on their coats and scarves.

  “No sweat,” Amory said. “It’s good practice for when I audition for the role of Cinderella. See you tomorrow!”

  Back in the kitchen, Camille was pulling one final tray of brownies out of the oven.

  “Last women standing,” I said.

  Camille laid the brownies on a trivet, tossed both oven mitts over her shoulder, and started cracking up.

  “What’s so funny?” I said.

  “I have no idea,” she wheezed, gripping her sides. “Nothing. I’m just slap happy from the amount of food produced in this kitchen in one night.”

  “I don’t think it will ever happen again,” I said, shaking my head. “I can’t wait to tell my mom that someone finally figured out how to use the oven without singeing anything in the process.”

  “Do we have any more of that magic popcorn left?” Camille asked, looking around the kitchen.

  “I’ll make another batch,” I said, picking up the empty bowl.

  “Don’t bother,” Camille said. “I’m just used to snacking on that when we gossip. But I don’t know if I can even look at any more food. It’s probably better if we both just collapse.”

  “Wait,” I said, “does that mean we finally get to gossip, even if there’s no magic popcorn to get us going?”

  “Well”—Camille sighed dramatically—“I guess we probably should.”

  We crawled to the living room and each claimed one of the brown suede couches. I tossed Camille a blanket and we put on old TiVoed episodes of Gossip Girl to set the mood.

  “So, did you see him kiss me?” Camille asked, squirming into her pillow.

  “He kissed you?” I squealed.

  “Shhh! What if someone hears?” Camille said, looking around the empty living room.

  As soon as she realized how completely irrational that fear was, we both busted out laughing. We laughed so hard that we started crying, which always happened to us at the exact same time. Just as we were finally calming down, a panicked thought popped into my head.

  “Camille,” I said, shooting up on the couch.

  “What is it?” she asked. “Don’t tell me you made some other plans tonight that you forgot about?”

  “No,” I said. “This time, I’m actually planning ahead. How in the world are we going to get all this food to Virgil?”

  At that instant, my front door burst open, and Patch sauntered in wearing a top hat and a tuxedo. Next to him stood a guy in a large puffy black coat with a pulled up fur-trimmed hood and dark sunglasses.

  “What are you doing up, Flan?” Patch said. “Figured you’d be conked out after your big runway event.” He motioned to his mysterious companion. “You know Jake Riverdale, right?”

  I squinted at the masked man. When he removed his hood and his shades to reveal his gorgeous pop star face and trademark dimpled smile, I had to do a double take. I mean, I’d spent months of my life talking about JR with SBB, but until this moment I’d never actually met him.

  “What’s up, little Flood,” he said, shaking his head. “Wait, are you the famous Flan my girl is always raving about?”

  “Um, I used to be,” I said, feeling another wave of guilt wash over me. “But probably not anymore. SBB was pretty upset with me tonight,” I rambled, suddenly aware that I was in the incredibly hot presence of the JR. Camille was practically hyperventilating next to me. “And I deserved it—”

  “Don’t sweat it,” JR said. “I think she was just frantic about seeing Gloria. I’m already in hot water with her for ducking out on dinner. If anyone has groveling to do, it’s me. I think I’m going to go over to her house tomorrow morning, make her breakfast, and see if she’ll agree to let me take her out tomorrow night—”

  “Wait a minute,” I said, holding up a finger. “I think I have an idea.”

  “Does your idea include JR and me chowing down on some of whatever smells so good in the kitchen?” Patch said. “I’m starving.”

  “No,” I said sternly. “We did not cook all night for you to tear through our hors d’oeuvres in five minutes. We need that stuff for tomorrow—if we can figure out a way to get it there.”

  “I’ll make you a deal,” Patch said. “You let JR and me have a very small sample of your fancy food, and I’ll call a friend who can arrange to get everything delivered to your party.”

  “Okay,” I said. “But only one bite each!”

  “Dude,” JR said as he and Patch headed into the kitchen. “She always this bossy? Is that where SBB learns it?”

  But whatever Patch had to say about my bossiness fell on deaf ears, because just then my head hit the pillow, and I fell fast asleep.

  Chapter 27

  The Hostess who Glittered

  The afternoon sun was glinting off the Central Park pond when Camille and I arrived at the Boathouse. Patch was already there, directing a crew of three burly guys to start unloading the truck.

  “Let’s get the hot stuff in there first,” he called out as they hoisted our trays on their shoulders with surprising professionalism—given that they were Patch’s friends—and started filing into the Boathouse Café.

  “Um, speaking of hot stuff,” Camille said, giving me a look.

  “Yeah, Patch, where’d you find these guys?” I asked.

  “I know, right?” Patch said, smiling impishly. “They handle all the heavy lifting for events at the Rainbow Room. I met them in Rio and they let me crash during Carnival. I’m telling you, caterer dudes know how to party.”

  It was almost too easy to watch them work, and a half hour later, the food was all strategically placed around the room. Soon, the winter white flower arrangements were brought in, and the DJ was setting up in the corner.

  One of the Brazilian guys came up and put his arms around Camille and me. “You American girls really know how to throw down with style,” he said, grabbing a bottle of water from the bar.

  “Thanks,” I said, smiling and thinking of my single friends. “You guys should totally stick around for Virgil.”

  By five o’clock, Camille and I were in the bathroom changing into our dresses. I zipped up the back of her floor-length red silk Bill Blass gown and helped her arrange the cap sleeves so they lay just right against her naturally tanned shoulders.

  “Gorgeous. Have you ever considered a career in modeling?” I joked.

  “Tried it once,” Camille laughed. “But I think we have more fun off the catwalk.”

  “You know, I’m never taking this dress off,” I said, running my hands down the amazing Zac Posen dress SBB had given me. It was the perfect cut: a princess neckline and a full skirt that made me feel as light as air.

  Unfortunately, I couldn’t help feeling weighed down when I thought about SBB’s crestfallen face last night. I crossed my fingers that the plan I’d texted JR about this morning would get things with us back to normal.

  “Hey,” Camille said, grabbing my arm. “Look who’s here!”

  As we watched the buses from Dalton and Thoney arrive and unload chatty groups of guys and girls, we scooted toward the coat check to be the first to greet everyone.

  The first person I spotted was Mattie Hendricks, looking sweet in a simple A-line black dress.

  “Hey, Mattie,” I said, leaning in for a kiss.

  “Flan, oh my God, how did you pull this off? It’s so beautiful!”
<
br />   “Thanks, Mattie,” I said, handing her one of the specialty virgin cocktails Camille and I had come up with, with a little help from the Brazilian boys. “Have a Thoney Torpedo. It’s açaí, pineapple, and coconut. Cheers!”

  As the room started to fill up with happy, top-of-the-weekend chatter, I hung around the entryway, passing out Torpedos and compliments on everyone’s amazing gowns.

  “Faiden,” I said, admiring her pale pink bubble dress. “Who are you wearing? It’s gorgeous,” I said, sort of feeling like an interviewer on E!

  “Actually,” she said, taking a little spin so I could see the back, “I made it. I got a sewing machine for Christmas, and this was my first project.”

  “Wow,” I said. “I’m so impressed.”

  “So am I,” I heard a poised voice say behind me. I turned around to find Headmistress Winters standing next to Mr. Zimmer. “Flan,” she said, “you’ve done an excellent job. In just one week, you have shown us all just what it is that makes the Thoney spirit such a wonderful thing. Your extracurricular endeavors are commendable, and what’s more”—she smiled at Mr. Zimmer—“Mr. Zimmer tells me you’ve got a true zeal for academics. I was pleased to hear that you’ve taken such an interest in your English studies.”

  “Thank you,” I said, blushing. “It’s been a great two weeks.”

  “We’re certainly lucky to have you join us this semester,” Mr. Zimmer agreed. “Now, if you’ll excuse us,” he said, steering the headmistress toward the bar. “I believe it’s time for us to try this famous Torpedo everyone is raving about.”

  “Whoa,” Camille said, coming up behind me. “Zimmer and Winters? They’re totally smitten with each other. I had no idea.” We both started cracking up. “It’s kind of adorable, don’t you think?”

  “Spoken like a girl who’s so smitten herself that she thinks everyone in love is cute,” I teased. “I’m onto you.”

  “Point taken. Love is cute.” She laughed. “Especially these two walking in right now.” Camille pointed toward the door. I followed her finger and saw the familiar flash of a green Nanette Lepore dress arm-in-arm with a black Marc Jacobs tuxedo.

  “SBB,” I called, checking her face for signs of residual anger. “You made it!”

  But SBB threw her arms around me. “Congrats on such a sweet party, Flan. This is just the sort of thing that makes me wish I’d gone to high school.”

  “I’m so glad you’re here,” I said. “And I’m so sorry again about—”

  SBB put up her hand. “Please. That was, what, twenty hours ago? Over and done with. When JR surprised me with breakfast in bed this morning, I figured you might have had a hand in it. And—” She leaned forward to show me the new platinum locket she was wearing. It was almost identical to the Shakespearean one she’d given me last week, but it had a gorgeous yellow diamond at its center. She popped it open, and inside, it read, The fairest starlet in all of heaven.

  Phew. So JR had followed my instructions.

  “I know you had a hand in this,” SBB continued, waving her metallic clutch in the air. “And I love, love, love, love it. And I love you, Flannie.” She turned to JR. “And I love you, too, schnookums.”

  JR leaned in to kiss SBB, looking the definition of smitten.

  Just then I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around, hoping to see Alex. All these other couples were making me a little bit anxious to hip check him….

  “Sorry to interrupt, Flan,” said the opposite of Alex. “I need to talk to you.”

  It was Willa, and judging from the look on her face, she seemed to have erased from her brain whatever bonding moment we might have had last night. She was flanked by Kennedy and Headmistress Winters, who looked decidedly less thrilled with me than she had five minutes ago. Suddenly the only thing in the air was a black cloud hanging over the entryway.

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  “We knew you weren’t familiar enough with Thoney protocol to host,” Willa sneered.

  “We should have known when you forgot to call the caterer,” Kennedy said, shaking her head. “The little … snacks you produced are a really nice effort, but homemade sandwiches are not exactly appropriate for a formal event.”

  “But the real offense,” Willa picked up, “is your flimsy open door policy. Rumor has it there are strange foreign men running rampant through the crowd and making everyone very uncomfortable. And apparently you weren’t even going to stop there.” She pointed in SBB and JR’s direction. “Are you just going to let everyone in off the street?”

  It was such a ridiculous thing to say about two of the world’s most celebrated actors that I was absolutely stunned silent.

  Luckily, SBB was not. She tilted her head, pointed at Willa’s outfit, and said, “That’s a very familiar Gucci dress. It costs, what, about three thousand dollars? I should know—I wore the same one last night.” She turned to me, and I wondered where she was going with this. “Flan, didn’t you say that was the exact amount missing from the class treasury? And is this the same Willa you said was serving her school as class president?” Then SBB put on her perfected Shakespearean pout. “Methinks the school may be serving Willa more than she’s serving the school.”

  Mr. Zimmer tilted his head. “Well spoken, young lady,” he said.

  Willa opened her mouth and closed it three times before she clutched her fists together and lunged at SBB. Just before she pounced on my best friend, JR caught her by the wrists.

  “Nobody messes with my girlfriend,” he said. I could have sworn he had the same line in Derelict Dudes, but it had the same swoon-worthy effect in the movie as it did with his off-screen costar.

  “You don’t know who you’re messing with,” Willa hissed, flailing her arms in vain against JR’s grasp. “You just wait until my father finds out about this. My family blows our nose with three thousand dollars. I swear”—she glared at me—“you’ve got the wrong girl.”

  “That’s not what our night cameras found out, Willa,” Headmistress Winters announced, steering her out by her shoulders. “We were hoping you’d come forward of your own volition, but now you’re just making a scene. You’ve got a problem with honesty, Willa, and we’ve known about it for some time. You can give us your full deposition in the privacy of my office.”

  We stood around and watched as Willa was literally dragged out of the Boathouse. Kennedy trailed behind her like a dog with her tail between her legs. When both of them were gone, the room fell silent, and the rest of us let out giant sighs.

  “The excitement never ends at Thoney,” Camille said, rolling her eyes. “Aren’t you glad you decided to come back, Flan?”

  “Willa’s witchiness aside,” I said, linking my arm through hers and SBB’s, “I really am. But Camille, can you do me one favor?”

  “Anything for the hostess with the mostest,” she said.

  “Never let me run for one of these things again. This party’s been fun, but so is ice skating in the park, and that’s a whole lot less work.”

  “Deal,” Camille said with a nod. “Hey, look who it is!”

  The Boathouse doors swung open and my Prince of New York walked in with Xander at his side. Both of them looked very dapper in their matching charcoal tuxes.

  “Hey, you,” Alex said, melting me with his smile. “What’d we miss? I’m sorry we’re so late.”

  “Actually,” I said, “you’re right on time. I think we should all get out of here. Who wants to go to the park and go skating?”

  “Flan, I love you,” SBB said, getting moderately huffy again. “But I did not put on this dress just to take it off again.”

  “SBB’s right,” Camille said. “Which is why I suggest … the first annual post-Virgil formal wear ice-skating event.”

  “Ooh,” Xander said, leaning in to give Camille a big kiss right in front of us. “I like the way this girl thinks.”

  I grinned at Alex. “Are you up for it?” I asked.

  Alex put his arms around me. A smile s
pread across his face. “It sounds like the start of a brand-new tradition.” He gave me a slow kiss on the lips. “Come on, let’s get you a cocktail.”

  I looked around the glittering Boathouse at all of my glittering friends, and thought, “There’s absolutely nowhere in the world I’d rather be.”

  Don’t miss a minute of flan’s Fabulous Life—

  “I wish I’d known Flan Flood in high school—and not just because she has a hot older brother with hot older friends (although that totally helps). Don’t let the name fool you—this is one girl you must get to know, now.” —Lisi Harrison, author of the #1 New York Times bestselling series The Clique

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  Also by J. Minter:

  the insiders series

  the insiders

  pass it on

  take it off

  break every rule

  hold on tight

  girls we love

  the inside girl series

  inside girl

  the sweetest thing

  some kind of wonderful

  Copyright © 2008 by J. Minter and 17th Street Productions, an Alloy company

  Electronic edition published in October 2011

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