Georgetown Academy, Season One

by Schwartz, Alyssa Embree

  “I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere,” Weston said with a wink.

  She nodded casually, but as soon as he went inside, another round of nerves crept up. If she got caught using a fake I.D., her mother would be incensed. And if the press got wind of it…Ellie didn’t even want to consider the repercussions of that one. She shoved her hands deep into the pockets of her black puffy ski jacket and hoped this “pass-back” move wouldn’t take long. If she had too much time to think about what a bad idea this was, there was no way she could go through with it.

  “Ellie, hey!”

  She recognized the perky voice immediately, but as she whipped her head around, her fears were confirmed. Taryn. Walking hand-in-hand with Gabe. The rational part of her brain took a five-second vacation and she wished it were her hand he was holding. Here she was standing outside in the freezing cold all by herself and Taryn and Gabe looked so cozy and happy, like they didn’t have a care in the world. It was like looking into direct sunlight and she wanted to shield her eyes.

  “What are you doing out here?” Taryn asked. She planted herself right across from Ellie and zipped up her pink ski jacket tighter, the leopard lining visible underneath.

  Gabe shifted his feet awkwardly, looking anywhere but at Ellie. She had made a conscious effort to stay as far away from him as possible and now it was painfully clear that had been a wise choice. She could see his breath in the frigid air and every time he exhaled, it was that much harder for her to catch her own breath.

  “I’m waiting for someone,” she finally managed to answer, glancing back to the door of the club, willing Weston to come out quickly. “My, um, friend is bringing me an I.D. so I can get in.”

  “That sounds fun.” Taryn was trying so hard it hurt Ellie’s head. It wasn’t her fault, though. Gabe clearly still hadn’t told her much about their past. Was that because his feelings for her hadn’t gone away or because he was over it so much it wasn’t worth talking about? She tried not to care which one was the truth.

  She breathed a sigh of relief when Weston bounded down the steps of the club and approached them. It didn’t matter if he had found an I.D. or not. She just wanted out of this conversation. Gabe looked up at Weston with an instant flash of recognition. Weston’s name had already been mentioned several times in the news stories about Gail and there was an immediate buzz emanating from the throngs of D.C. students the second he walked through the lobby earlier.

  “Got one,” Weston announced with a triumphant smile, handing her a driver’s license. Holly Pariser of Virginia Beach, Virginia, had black hair, thick bangs and blue eyes.

  Gabe leaned over her, making her jump out of her skin from his sudden close proximity, and looked down at the I.D. with a scowl. “It looks nothing like you.”

  She was instantly annoyed by the judgment ringing in his tone.

  “It doesn’t matter. The bouncers only check the date of birth,” she said authoritatively. He finally looked her in the eye and she shivered.

  Taryn glanced between them, a look of uncertainty crossing her face before the smile found its way back. “Well, have fun, guys.”

  “Take it easy,” Weston answered, putting a relaxed hand on Ellie’s back. She smiled up at him, not for Gabe’s benefit, but because the light physical contact dissolved the anxiety that had nestled in her stomach the minute Gabe and Taryn had approached. She was happy Weston was here. Otherwise, she would have hidden in her hotel room for the rest of the trip to avoid another run-in like this one.

  Gabe and Taryn finally walked away and Weston led Ellie up the steps to the club.

  “Don’t worry,” he whispered in her ear. “Just act normal.”

  Easy for him to say. The only way she could pass for Holly Pariser was with a wig and a face transplant.

  The twenty-something guy in front of them gave the bouncer his I.D. and easily strolled into the club. It was her turn. She thrust Holly’s driver’s license into the bouncer’s hands and grimaced at the scorpion tattoo that meandered its way from his collarbone up to his neck. He glanced at the I.D. then back up at her.

  After a few painstakingly long seconds, he finally mumbled, “Go on in.”

  An hour and a half later, Ellie was leaning against Weston in the middle of the packed club, halfway through her second Vanilla Stoli and Diet Coke. An energetic buzz galloped through her as they swayed to the Nineties cover band on the slightly elevated stage in front of them. Flat screens on the surrounding walls played episodes of the original Beverly Hills, 90210, keeping in theme with the decade of the music.

  The band strummed the first few chords of “Today” by the Smashing Pumpkins and she lit up, the lyrics making her feel even happier she hadn’t wussed out and gone back to the hotel.

  “Doesn’t this make you want to throw on a flannel and some Doc Martens?” Weston said in her ear.

  “You’re already wearing the cords so you’re halfway there,” she teased playfully.

  He looked down at his tan frayed cords, feigning offense. “I’m bringing the look back. I have a slap bracelet under this hoodie.”

  She slurped down the rest of her drink and held up the empty glass. “Want to get a refill?”

  “Lead the way.” He motioned to a few friends across the dance floor that they were getting more drinks.

  They pushed through the crowd and wedged in at the bar as Weston ordered another round. She glanced up at the television above them and winced at the tie and high-waisted acid washed jeans Brenda Walsh was sporting. Brinley would die if she saw that fashion statement.

  When Weston handed the bartender a twenty, Ellie saw the small tattoo again on the inside of his wrist. She rolled up the sleeve of his hoodie and ran her finger across it.

  “What is this?”

  He turned his arm around so she got a better look at the four connected wavy lines. “A heartbeat.”

  “Why did you get it?”

  A serious look flickered across his face, one she hadn’t seen before. “I went to Australia with a few buddies after my dad died. I got it there. Kind of a spontaneous thing.” The solemn expression quickly disappeared, replaced by his usual easygoing smile. “So what about you? Any butterfly tattoos on your hipbone I should know about?”

  “Nope. Disappointed?” she asked, moving closer to him, the Vanilla Stoli propelling her forward.

  His green eyes smiled at her. “Not at all.”

  He wrapped his arms around her waist and interlaced his fingers behind her thin pink sweater. She looked up at him, and before she had a chance for the Gabe comparisons to flash through her mind, he kissed her. She hadn’t had a first kiss in so long and the unfamiliarity was an exciting rush. He pulled her in tighter and she reached her arms around his neck, unconcerned with the PDA she was always so worried about with Hunter. Maybe it was all the Vanilla Stolis or maybe it was the fact that Weston was a really good kisser, but Ellie refused to overanalyze what any of this meant beyond tonight.

  When they finally left the bar and she laid her head down on the fluffy white hotel pillow at 2:30 a.m., Brinley sleeping peacefully in the bed beside her, she silently thanked Holly Pariser for giving her one of the most fun nights she’d had in a long time.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Friday, 9:33 a.m.

  Evan lay in a push-up position on the ground in the center of one of the large hotel banquet rooms. Taryn lay next to her doing the same and Gabe, Portia Davies and Jenny Lim stood behind them and grabbed their feet. She and Taryn started walking on their hands, letting the other three lead them around, a hundred students watching them curiously. Thankfully, it was the last mandatory retreat exercise of the day. By dividing into teams according to school and creating a machine using their bodies that students from the other schools then had to guess, it was somehow supposed to teach them about team building and collaboration. Evan found it mostly humiliating.

  “So I heard Ellie Walker skipped out on all the activities this morning because she was super hung over,” P
ortia whispered to Jenny. “Like puking her guts out.”

  Evan’s ears perked up, but she couldn’t turn around for fear she would fall flat on her face. She was happy the gossip had finally shifted away from her break-up with Luke, but it was unfortunate it had once again landed on Ellie. Evan had actually searched everywhere for Ellie during the trust activity they had done earlier where one partner led the other one blindfolded through an obstacle course. Her plan had been to try to be Ellie’s partner, attempting yet again to apologize for what happened, but Ellie was nowhere to be found. Hunter, unfortunately, was easy to spot with the gaggle of girls performing their own version of The Hunger Games to see who would get to be his partner. Twice during the exercise she had caught him staring at her, an inscrutable look on his face. She could only guess he was irritated he had to be in the same room as her, and she had found herself suddenly itching with annoyance over it. She knew he was mad at her, but throwing those loaded looks her way even after she apologized was incredibly unfair. It was like he wanted her to feel even worse about the situation. And the more she thought about it, the more she was starting to resent him for it. She had given him the benefit of the doubt for pulling such a sketchy move when he got back together with Ellie, and he refused to give her the same courtesy?

  Jenny’s eager voice momentarily jolted her away from the increasing anger bubbling up inside her. “Yeah, I heard she was out partying with Weston Morris all night.”

  Weston Morris? Evan was now even more interested in their gossip. She had come up empty in all the Today in Politics research she’d done the past two days as to why he had mysteriously switched schools. But since when had Ellie started hanging out with him? Marilyn Walker had been on every news outlet the past few days promoting Gail Morris for the Supreme Court nomination, but she had no idea Ellie and Weston had any sort of relationship. Too bad Ellie wasn’t speaking to her. She might know the answers to Evan’s questions.

  “I heard from Katie Levine who heard from Hillary Watson that they went to some club last night way after curfew and were making out all over the place,” Portia responded with the serious inflections of a news anchor.

  Evan could swear she felt Gabe’s hands tighten around her ankles.

  “Okay, can anyone guess what machine this team has built?” Mrs. Rice, a stately English teacher from Holton-Arms called out from the microphone in the back of the room, motioning to Evan’s group.

  “I know!” A lanky blond girl standing in one of the Sidwell groups called out. “It’s the Teachers’ Union lobbying Congress!”

  Mrs. Rice furrowed her brow. “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

  “It’s a political machine,” the girl answered huffily. “Duh.”

  Gabe dropped Evan’s legs to the ground. “It’s a lawnmower,” he said with an eye roll.

  Even though they were holed up in a small town in Vermont, it was still impossible to escape D.C.

  Evan wound her scarf tightly around her neck and walked out of the banquet room with Gabe and Taryn. Now that the last activity was over, they had the rest of the day to do whatever they wanted.

  “So how are you feeling today?” Taryn asked her gently.

  Evan’s face went blank. “What do you mean?”

  Taryn gave her a strange look. “With your break-up.”

  “Right. Yeah. I’m, um, okay.” Taryn had been checking up on Evan since the moment they arrived in Stowe, but Evan still kept forgetting she was supposed to be acting break-up level depressed.

  “You sure, Ev?” Gabe asked, a mischievous glint in his eye. He was the only other person who knew the truth about Luke and never missed an opportunity to privately tease her about it. “I’m kind of surprised you’re not curled up in the fetal position downing a pint of Chunky Monkey.”

  Evan suppressed an eye roll, quickly scrunching her face into an expression of mild despair for Taryn’s benefit.

  “Oh, well, you know, it’s hard, but it was really amicable. Luke and I are better as friends, though.” She had almost killed Luke for spreading around that added tidbit about her being interested in someone else, though part of her wondered if Hunter had heard it.

  They exited the double doors of the hotel and walked out on to Mountain Road. Snow flurries had begun to fall and against the backdrop of the cozy small town, it reminded her of a scene straight out of Ethan Frome.

  “Do you want to grab brunch with us?” Taryn asked, slipping one of her fuzzy gloved hands into Gabe’s. “You shouldn’t be alone right now.”

  “Thanks, but I’m actually going to walk around the Stowe History Museum for a while.” It was one of her favorite places to go during the ski retreats. Since she had never skied before, it at least gave her something to do. Vacations like this weren’t something her parents indulged in and she wouldn’t be here right now if her scholarship hadn’t covered it. And it wasn’t like she could afford the ridiculously overpriced ski lessons either, though partaking in those didn’t sound appealing anyway. Something about three-year-olds whipping past her on the bunny slope as she tumbled down the mountain was not the way she wanted to spend her afternoon.

  “You do realize you’re going to be the only person in there, right?” Gabe quipped. “No one comes to Stowe for a cultural experience.”

  “I know, but it’s nice having the place to myself. The museums in D.C. are always crowded with tourists and field trips.”

  “Hey, no judgment from me,” he said with a wry smile. “You free later? You know, in case you get really depressed.”

  “I’m grabbing coffee with Jana Fleisher at noon, but I’m free after that.”

  “It’s good to keep busy when you’re going through something like this,” Taryn added sympathetically.

  Evan nodded, though her coffee date was not really for social reasons. Jana Fleisher went to Sidwell, but Evan knew her from the Model U.N. conference they both attended last year. Evan had represented Somalia and Jana was there on behalf of Nepal and the two had found themselves allied over granting additional funds to improve women’s reproductive health in their countries. Evan had texted her earlier about meeting up, hoping Jana had some intel on Weston Morris since they had been at Sidwell together for ten plus years. Evan had been honest and told her she needed information for a work story and Jana had agreed to help as long as Evan kept her name out of it.

  “Call me if you downward spiral,” Gabe said, barely able to keep a straight face. Evan shot him a pointed look, then headed in the opposite direction toward the museum.

  The museum hadn’t changed the exhibits much in a year and she strolled around the familiar folk art wing, stopping in front of her favorite Anna Mary Robertson Moses painting. Gabe was right—Evan was the only person in the entire museum, but the quiet was a welcome change after the morning’s activities.

  She took one last look at the painting and headed toward the last room in the museum, the gallery of artifacts from the Revolutionary War. She glanced at her watch and saw she had less than an hour before her coffee date. A journalistic rush of excitement filled her at the idea of cracking some news on Weston Morris. Her intuition was telling her there was some kind of story there. She just had to keep digging. It was an unfortunate coincidence that Ellie seemed to be hooking up with Weston, but she wasn’t going to let that get in the way of her research. She needed to get back on Samantha’s good side and this could be her way in.

  She entered the Revolutionary War room, expecting to find it empty as well, but there was another person staring at the historical battle map on the wall. He had his back to her, but Evan had spent so many years staring at Hunter McKnight, she could have easily identified him in a pitch-black cave. She whipped around so fast to make a run for it that she heard the crash before she saw what fell.

  She had knocked down a two hundred and thirty-six year old musket from its perch on the wall.

  Hunter was instantly by her side, lifting it back on to the shelf. The chivalrous effort incensed her and
she suddenly couldn’t contain the frustration toward him that had been steadily growing since the trust exercise.

  “Don’t do that!” she snapped. “I can do it myself.”

  He stepped back a few inches, his blue eyes wide and looking even more piercing in his navy parka. “I was just trying to help.”

  It was hard to discern whether he was confused or shocked by her outburst. At this point, though, she had nothing to lose and she was going to get it all off her chest whether he wanted to hear it or not.

  “Yeah, right. You’ve been acting like a complete…” She clenched her fists, searching for the right word. “…Schmuck! A complete schmuck the past two weeks! Yeah, I told Ellie about your shady reason for getting back together with her, but get over it!”

  “Evan—”

  “It’s not like what I did was so horrible. And you know what? I’m glad I told her! I’m glad she knows the truth!” She was used to fumbling her sentences around him, but now the words were flying out of her mouth faster than she could form them and her arms were flailing uncontrollably in the air. “You’ve made it perfectly clear you’re angry at me. I get it! You don’t have to keep making me feel worse!”

  “I was never angry at you,” he said quietly, barely able to maintain eye contact. “I was embarrassed to be around you.”

  Her crackling fury screeched to a halt. Embarrassed?

  “I wish I had never done that to Ellie.” He forced his eyes up to meet hers, his shoulders uncharacteristically slumped. “But the worst part was you calling me out on it. You’re such a good person and…I don’t know. I don’t like you thinking that’s who I am.”