Crushworthy

by Sara Lawrence

  Finally, Katie witnessed Daisy Finnegan rush to Mrs. Bennett’s side from where she had been loitering in the middle of the quad, a disgustingly sycophantic look plastered across her spotty face as she offered her assistance in this, as she put it, “terrible time of crisis.”

  Katie smirked as she spied Daisy being dismissed as summarily as Stagmount’s football coach had been a few seconds earlier, then made her way through the doors and turned left in the direction of her own house, chewing the inside of her lip in a thoughtful manner as she walked.

  11 Triple Double

  Desperate to get dry and Warm, Jinx, Liberty, and Chastity crashed through the front door of Tanner House into the foyer thinking only of hot showers and their tropically heated common room. They were startled to see Olga, Irina, and Masha lounging on the overstuffed bright pink sofa wearing their matching 2Bfree very cool roll-top tracksuits and flicking through three copies of the same issue of Marie Claire. Their long blonde hair was drawn into three very neat identical ponytails and their matching “barely there” makeup was pristine. There was no way on Earth these three had been at the mandatory post-alarm roll call in the freezing cold quad like the fairly ratty-looking others had.

  “Hi girls,” said Irina, sitting in the middle with an alarming-looking double-page, black-and-white fashion shoot from the magazine that lay open across her loosely bent thighs. “Did we miss anything?”

  The triplets dissolved prettily into laughter at this and the others were so impressed by their complete mastery of such an extreme level of nonchalance that they had to join in.

  “No,” Chastity said through a decidedly porcine snort, “you didn’t miss a thing.”

  “What are you talking about?!” yelled Liberty, furiously unwinding her stunning green, pink, gold, and purple striped Missoni scarf and throwing it dramatically to the floor. “What about the fire alarm and Dirk and the Bloody Mary! They missed LOADS of things!”

  “I know,” replied Chastity, who had fallen prey to a fresh fit of hysterics at Liberty’s outraged reaction and was gripping the side of the coffee table in front of her for support, her long blonde hair covering half of her profile like a lopsided, coquettish curtain. “I was being sarcastic, for Christ’s sake.”

  “Hey,” said Jinx, looking around in surprise. “Where’s Igor? I’m sure I haven’t seen you three without him once yet this term.”

  “Oh,” Olga responded swiftly, tugging the smooth end of the ponytail that was hanging over her left shoulder. “We told him he could go for a walk and we’d be fine in here for an hour or so. So tell us, what happened?”

  “God,” said Jinx after a giggle that drowned out the last question, to Olga’s evident annoyance, given the small frown that passed across her ravishingly high-cheek-boned, heart-shaped face. “He really is under the thumb, isn’t he? Do you think it pisses him off?”

  “Does what piss him off?” Olga looked innocently up at Jinx through lowered lashes. The tortoiseshell-rimmed rectangular reading glasses she was wearing lent her the air of a very sexy secretary. Jinx hesitated.

  “You know.” Jinx squirmed. “Having to do what—well—what you lot say all the time. When he’s, um, you know, like…a grown man and everything.”

  “No!” the triplets yelled simultaneously, clutching each other as if this was the funniest thing they’d ever heard. “We’re in charge and he knows it!”

  At that moment an icy wind blew through the warm lounge area. Someone had flung open the front door with great force and stood there for a second before slamming it shut. This caused such a fierce gust to whistle through the room that the roaring fire in the grate flickered, hissed and seemed on the brink of going out.

  “Bloody hell,” said Chastity crossly, complete with a correspondingly angry shiver. “This is like being in a bad horror film. For Christ’s sake whoever’s out there, either come in or go out but whatever you do—and I certainly don’t give a shit either way—JUST SHUT THAT FUCKING DOOR!”

  “Ladies,” Igor said with a pained glance at Chastity before shooting a sinister glare around the room that seemed to linger especially malignantly on the triplets, “good evening.”

  “Good evening,” the girls chorused, barely hiding their laughter at Chastity’s bad timing—and the previous conversation between Jinx and Olga that they were sure he must have overheard.

  “So,” Irina said, her super glossy pale-pink smile full of mischief, “we were just explaining to these girls how we let you go out for a walk, Igor.”

  “Did you enjoy it?” Masha enquired, fake solicitously in the face of Igor’s unreadable blank glare. “Was it nice to be out in the fresh air…all alone?”

  “I never shirk my duty,” Igor replied after a long pause. He appeared to teeter on the brink of saying more, but remained silent at the back of the room, arms folded and unreadable eyes narrowed.

  The triplets shared a quick, conspiratorial, concerned look and stood up as one, laying the magazines on the coffee table in a line in front of them with perfect, unthinking symmetry, before waving goodnight to the rest and ushering Igor in the direction of their corridor on the third floor.

  “Well,” said Jinx, collapsing with a very satisfied-sounding sigh onto the end of the recently vacated sofa and picking up one of the discarded magazines. “That was weird, to say the least.”

  “Yeah,” Chastity agreed, unzipping the sides of her long boots, kicking them off and settling in to the opposite end. “I’ve never seen Igor express any emotion whatsoever, but tonight he seemed really out of sorts.”

  “The triplets are so bloody rude to him though,” Liberty said. “I’m not surprised he seemed pissed off—I bloody would be if someone I worked for spoke to me like that!”

  “I can’t believe they just couldn’t be bothered to go to roll call,” sniffed Daisy Finnegan, her grease-covered and currently bright red nose pointed as high as she could physically manage. She had come in just behind the others and witnessed the whole exchange. “They really don’t seem to care about Stagmount at all.”

  “Shut up, Daisy,” mumbled Jinx, flinging her head back against the cushions and closing her eyes. The three memorably unsanitary years she’d spent cooped up at close quarters with Daisy Finnegan, suck-up artist extraordinaire, in Wollstonecraft House had given her not only the strong feeling that she’d be utterly delighted if she never had to see or speak to her again, but also a very healthy disregard for anything—however true—that might pop out of her mouth.

  “Newsflash to Fingers,” Jinx said, rolling her eyes heavenwards and letting out a long, bored sigh, “nothing’s changed and no one gives a shit about anything you say. Still.”

  Daisy’s eyes bulged with fury, but she didn’t say anything as she stamped her foot, flicked her greasy French pleat in disgust and stomped off in the direction of the corridor she shared—unfortunately for them—with Jinx and Liberty.

  Chastity, who had been texting Paul on her mobile phone, so engrossed in whatever message her flying fingers were tapping out that she’d completely missed Jinx and Daisy’s exchange, suddenly screamed in rage and threw her phone against the opposite wall. Jinx and Liberty didn’t say anything as the handset crashed to the floor, reduced to a mangled mess, tiny spare parts flying everywhere, but turned to stare at Chastity open-mouthed.

  “Fucking Paul!” she yelled, throwing the magazine she’d picked up earlier in quick succession after her phone. “Sometimes I fucking hate him.”

  Jinx and Liberty remained silent, their eyes wide with shock. They had never once heard Chastity say anything bad about Paul. Quite the reverse in fact! They often joked about how totally vomit-inducing they found her usual sickly sweet conversations. And if they happened to unfortunately find themselves in the same room as the loved-up pair when they hadn’t seen each other for, ooo, about ten minutes, they always made as fast an exit as possible to avoid the gross-out slurping sounds and despicable baby talk.

  “What’s he done then?” asked J
inx. “Is everything okay?”

  “No it’s fucking NOT!” Chastity banged her fist on the table for emphasis. “That’s it. I’ve fucking had enough.”

  “Whoa there, Chas,” said Liberty, grabbing Chastity’s hand. “Stop freaking out and just tell us what’s going on.”

  “He’s totally changed recently,” Chastity said, hanging her head sadly. “I don’t know what’s got into him. We’ve hardly had any rows at all in the whole seven months we’ve been going out, and now all he does is make stupid sexist remarks that really piss me off. He only stops patronizing me when he wants a shag.”

  “So what did he say just now then?” asked Jinx. She only just managed to inject the necessary tone of concern into her voice. This was freaking interesting—she’d never seen Chastity lose it like this, and as far as she could see Paul was a really decent guy.

  “He said ages ago that he was looking after his parents’ house for a couple of weeks starting on Saturday,” sniffed Chastity, “and he hasn’t mentioned it for a while so I thought I’d text him and see what was going on.”

  “And?” Liberty asked, a consoling hand placed just so on Chastity’s knee in order that the flawless French-manicure she’d spent an hour and a half doing that morning could be examined.

  “He said he still was, so I suggested we have a huge house party there next weekend. I thought we could all go—you could invite Jamie, Jinx, and maybe your brothers—and a few of Paul’s friends from college.” Chastity stopped speaking and another look of fury passed across her animated face.

  “Sounds great,” Jinx said, smiling at the mention of Jamie as she instantly forgot about Chastity’s woes.

  “Well, it’s not going to fucking happen so you can take that smile off your face for a start,” raged Chastity.

  “Shit,” muttered an instantly deflated Jinx. “I’m sorry. Do carry on.”

  “He replied, ‘Great idea—let’s have you, me and one other girl.’” Chastity’s condemnatory voice rose to a shrieking pitch as she finished her sentence.

  “Bloody hell,” said Jinx, stifling a snort of amused laughter, “you need to relax, Chas. George says things like that all the time. I’m sure Paul’s only joking. And anyway—” here a definite snort did manage to slip out—“if he isn’t—I’ll do it!”

  “Yes,” agreed Liberty, a huge smirk plastered across her stunning face. “You’re a total babe, Chas. I’d do it too! In fact, where exactly is this party taking place? I must stick it in my diary!”

  “Shut up!” snapped Chastity. “I haven’t finished yet. That’s not even the worst of it.”

  “Come on then, Chas,” Jinx said, already bored with what she saw as Chastity’s total inability to laugh at herself. “What else has he done?”

  A stony-faced Chastity stood up, grabbed her bag and made to leave without saying a word.

  “Come on, Chas,” chorused Jinx and Liberty, “we were only joking!”

  Chastity said nothing in response as she picked up her boots and shoved the Marie Claire under her arm, but as she stalked off down the corridor the pair on the sofa distinctly heard a very dismissive “what a pair of total bitches” float through the half-ajar door towards them. They looked at each other as if to say something about this, but before either one of them could comment on Chastity’s evident all-consuming wrath they clutched each other and burst into the most furious fit of hysterical giggles they’d suffered all term.

  12 Screw This for a Laugh

  After being rudely awoken a whole hour and a half before their usual time and then forced to struggle down the drive to attend Mrs. Bennett’s punishment roll call, where the entire school had sulkily endured a mega telling-off, none of the lower sixth were in good moods by the time they made it to breakfast. Most unusually, there had been no giggling whatsoever on the trudge back to Tanner, and the collective bad mood of the lower sixth showed no sign of changing for the better any time soon. The triplets were the only ones who looked as sprightly as ever. They’d disappeared upstairs as soon as they got back—no doubt to apply the truckload of makeup their studiedly “natural” look required—and hadn’t been seen since.

  “What about bloody Dirk?” Liv asked, spraying toast crumbs all over the table, still sounding completely amazed at the weird antics of the football coach none of them had properly met yet. “What the hell was that all about?”

  “Well, I think it had something to do with those Russians.” Daisy Finnegan’s smugly self-satisfied voice cut over the top of them, rudely interrupting the conversation she had been shamelessly eavesdropping on from the next table across. “Why weren’t they at the fire alarm? And who,” she continued, then paused, as if what she was about to say was very profound indeed and should therefore be listened to most carefully, “drinks straight vodka apart from them? I think it was them who threw the drink over Coach Hanson and then set off the fire alarm to give themselves time to escape the scene. My dad told me that their dad makes Bill Gates look like a pauper.”

  “Daisy.” Jinx fixed her old nemesis with the worst death stare she could summon up. “I can’t help but wonder just how many times this week you’re planning to force me to get rid of you. You certainly seem to be enjoying the sensation anyway. Now, for the last and final time, will you just FUCK OFF!”

  “Go on, Daisy,” Liberty added. “Leave us alone.”

  “There’s a good girl,” said Liv, with a sly wink at Mimi and Chloe, as Daisy picked up her bag, shot Jinx a very black look, and stalked out of the kitchen, slamming the door behind her. “Easy does it.”

  “She drives me fucking crazy.” Jinx pushed her plate away and glared round at the others as if daring them to say she’d gone too far. To be honest, she had a sneaking suspicion that she had. It wasn’t like Daisy had been rude to her or anything, or even said anything particularly annoying, but the bad mood currently sweeping the lower sixth was catching, and snapping at Daisy had become something of a natural reflex for Jinx.

  “Yes,” Liv replied thoughtfully, clearly not listening to a word Jinx was saying. “And I hate to say it—sorry Jinx—but I think she’s probably right that it was the triplets who drenched Dirk in vodka-based cocktails.”

  “Me too,” Charlie agreed. “They weren’t at roll call with the rest of us; we all saw them when we came in so we know they were back here way before we were; and you’ve got to admit it’s exactly the kind of thing they wouldn’t give a toss about.”

  “It’s pretty funny, whichever way you look at it,” Liberty interjected, surprisingly sensibly. “I mean, who cares if it was them or not? It’s no skin off any of our noses.”

  “I know,” Jinx moaned, putting her head in her hands. “Look at us, all fighting and snapping and bitching and having basically no fun at all. I’m bloody bored of nonstop homework and all the teachers talking about exams all the time like it’s the end of the world. This fucking weather is driving me crazy, too.”

  She didn’t mention it, but Jinx was also beginning to think that she would never hear from Jamie again either. It was, she thought, bloody unfair that just when she decided to admit to all her friends—and herself—that she really liked him, he should disappear off the scene without so much as a tiny text to say goodbye. Embarrassing too, she reflected unhappily.

  “We need a massive night out,” Chloe said, her big green eyes shining under the fringe of her sleek brown bob for the first time since she’d joined them at the table. “We’ll all go bloody stir-crazy otherwise.”

  “I’ve got it!” Liberty banged her mug on the table. “What about Paul’s house party? That’s supposed to be next week, right Jinx?”

  “Chastity’s Paul?” Liv asked, interested. “Sounds ace.”

  “Hold on,” said Jinx, shaking her head at Liberty. “Were you even there last night? They had a massive fight, remember? About his bloody house party—and from the sounds of it I wouldn’t get your hopes up too high, kids.”

  At that moment Chastity flounced into the room.
Although she looked gorgeous in her skinny grey Top Shop Baxter jeans teamed with a black cashmere polo neck, lots of chunky silver jewelry, and dark brown Ugg boots folded down half way to her ankles, the thing that really made her look stunning was the beaming smile plastered across her face.

  “Hiya,” she trilled, greeting them in her happiest singsong voice, perching herself precariously on the opposite end of the table closest to Mimi and Chloe and leaning over to grab a piece of toast from the rack in the center. “How is everyone?”

  “Well,” Jinx said with a disbelieving snort at Chastity’s new-found sunny disposition, “at least one of us is in a better mood this morning. I take it you’ve made up with Paul?”

  “Yes.” Chastity sighed dreamily and smiled around the table. “We’re back on.”

  Jinx was pleased to see her pal back on the up, but she couldn’t help thinking that it was bloody unfair that Chastity could behave so badly, screaming and yelling blue murder, and still have Paul running after her, when she, Jinx, behaved like the coolest girl on the planet, all sweetness and light, jokes and gags, and yet remained resolutely ignored by her major crush. The way she was looking at it now, she had to admit it was possible Jamie had not even registered her existence at all. She chewed unhappily at her thumbnail as the horrid realization that he probably thought of her as nothing more than George’s annoying little sister began to take hold in her brain.

  “Don’t bite.” Liberty interrupted Jinx’s unhappy reverie as she slapped her friend’s hand away from her mouth. “Come on, you know how cross you’ll be later on when you have to file them all down to match!”

  “Okay.” Jinx moodily sat on her hands. “I won’t. And don’t slap me again—I can’t stand it.”

  Liv, sensing another storm brewing at their usually happy breakfast table, stood up and clapped her hands together.