Georgetown Academy, Season One

by Schwartz, Alyssa Embree

  “Why are you home so early, Dad?” Taryn asked, taking a tiny sip of the ambiguously colored smoothie. As usual, her mother’s concoction wasn’t as disgusting as it looked.

  “The president sent over one of his advisors for a very lengthy vetting session,” her father replied, his eyes twinkling with excitement. “They said they’d rather do it at the house than at the office.”

  As it had done a million times in the last two days, Taryn’s excitement instantly bubbled up to the surface. She had attempted to keep it at bay while she was at school so she could focus, but now that she was home, she didn’t bother trying to suppress it. The vice president was resigning and the president was considering her dad as the replacement. Her father, Alan Reyes, could be the next vice president of the United States.

  Another burst of butterflies erupted in her stomach. Her father had been the governor of California for eight years, and when they moved from Los Angeles to D.C. a little over a month ago, everyone was already predicting he would eventually become the first Hispanic president. But Taryn hadn’t expected the rise to happen so quickly, and the thought of living in the vice presidential mansion in a few weeks was so overwhelming she could hardly think of anything else.

  “What kind of questions did they ask you?” Taryn asked curiously, slurping down another few sips of the smoothie.

  “There were a million of them,” he answered, sounding overwhelmed and energetic at the same time. “No one wants another Sarah Palin situation, so they need to know every single detail about me, you, your siblings, Mom. It was everything from where we’ve vacationed to some, uh, other much more invasive questions.”

  He cleared his throat meaning the “invasive” questions must have been sex-related. Cheating, sex tapes, sexting. Ew.

  “Ice cream!” her mother exclaimed, placing a bowl with two spoons in front of them. “Actually it’s just strawberries, Splenda and soy milk so you can tell those vetters how healthy your diet is, Alan.”

  Her father flashed the charismatic smile he was famous for and pulled her mom on to his lap, laughing. “What would I do without you, Isobel?”

  Taryn smiled, not grossed out by their constant affection. She didn’t take for granted her parents were still happy after all these years. Most of her friends’ parents in L.A. were divorced and fighting over who got the Brentwood house versus the Malibu one.

  Her mom kissed his cheek then jumped up. “I’ve got to go pick up Lola and the boys,” Isobel said, giving Taryn a quick kiss, too. Her little sister, who was six, and her brothers, eight and eleven, had so many after-school activities they made Ryan Seacrest look lazy. “Don’t forget to tell Taryn about dinner, honey.”

  As Isobel bounded out of the kitchen, Taryn turned to her dad. “Dinner?”

  He picked up one of the spoons, twirling it around in his fingers before scooping out a bite of “ice cream.”

  “With everything going on, I’m considering hiring Thomas Madison as a political strategist. He’s invited us all over for dinner tonight so we can discuss it a little more.”

  A combo of nerves and excitement swept through her. “Like dinner with us and the whole Madison family?”

  Alan nodded. “He’s been lobbying pretty hard for the job and since you go to school with Brooks and Brinley, he suggested we all get together for something a little less formal to see how we mesh. Is that okay?”

  “Yup,” she answered quickly, not wanting to make a big deal out of it, though to say she didn’t “mesh” with Brinley Madison was an understatement. Taryn tried to focus on the positive qualities in everyone, but Brinley was so manipulative and conniving, Mean Girls could have been her biopic. The first week Taryn was at G.A., Brinley spread a horrible rumor about her just because the Reyes family was going to grace the cover of Washington Life Magazine’s President’s Day issue, something the Madisons had done for the past few years.

  “You’re sure?” her dad asked, his eyes searching her. He knew she didn’t like Brinley, but Taryn had never admitted it was Brinley who started that awful rumor. She obviously wasn’t going to tell him now, though, when he seemed pretty eager to attend this dinner.

  “I’m sure,” she said.

  It wasn’t like a dinner with the Madisons was all bad. Though the same devious qualities Brinley had could easily be attributed to her older brother, Brooks, ever since the ski retreat, Taryn hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him. Maybe it was because he had been the one who rescued her when she sprained her ankle or maybe she was looking for something to distract her after her break-up with Gabe, but either way, Brooks kept popping into her brain. He’d stopped by her house the other night to drop off her iPod and her father had interrupted them at the exact moment when Taryn was sure Brooks was about to ask her out. They had been texting and flirting ever since and she was convinced he was just waiting for another perfect moment to ask her on a proper date. Brooks was definitely more the old-fashioned type. It wasn’t like he was going to ask her out on Facebook.

  Suddenly another thought struck her. “Why do you need to hire Thomas Madison in the first place?”

  “The V.P. position is officially down to me and one other candidate,” he replied as he leaned forward, a competitive edge to his voice. “The White House press secretary is announcing Vice President Tellman’s resignation tomorrow which means there’s going to be a media frenzy while everyone speculates on his replacement. I want to make sure it goes as seamlessly as possible so it’s my name the president ultimately announces.”

  “Who’s the other option?” Taryn asked, grabbing a spoonful of the strawberry “ice cream” which was quickly melting into more of a “milk shake.”

  “Marilyn Walker.”

  The slushy pink liquid dripped off Taryn’s spoon and splattered on to the table like a Jackson Pollock painting. She had already anticipated everyone at school would be incessantly talking about her as soon as it became public her dad was up for V.P., but this added a new layer of theatrics the gossipy G.A. students would inevitably lose their minds over. It might be Alan vs. Marilyn on the Hill, but in the insulated hallways of G.A., it would be Taryn vs. Ellie.

  She and Ellie had initially been on the road to becoming fast friends a few weeks ago when Taryn first got to school, but as soon as Taryn started dating Gabe, that quickly changed. He and Ellie had some sort of incredibly complicated history Gabe refused to talk about and Ellie had made it obvious she had no interest in being friends with Taryn because of it. Their brief tug-of-war over Gabe had felt like such a big deal a few weeks ago, but now, with their parents going head-to-head in a battle for vice president of the United States, arguing over a guy suddenly seemed like child’s play.

  The Reyeses stood in front of the massive oak door of the Madisons’ sprawling estate in Spring Valley, a wealthy neighborhood in Northwest D.C. filled with enormous old homes and even a few foreign embassies. Taryn’s little brother Ryland leaned into her, staring at the house in awe as he rang the bell. Her other two siblings were at home with a babysitter, but since Ryland was almost twelve, he had been included in the night out.

  “This place looks really old,” he whispered anxiously, nudging Taryn. “Do you think it’s haunted?”

  “Nah,” Taryn said with a smile, ruffling his dark hair. “Brinley Madison could easily scare off a ghost or two.”

  “Tare, are you sure you should be wearing those shoes?” her mother asked, frowning at the heeled, black suede booties Taryn wore over her sheer floral tights.

  “Yeah, it’s fine,” Taryn responded quickly. Actually, she had stuffed her ankle brace into the boots and her foot was starting to throb, but her furry boots looked ridiculous with the Free People black lace mini-dress she was wearing.

  As she heard the sound of approaching footsteps, she tousled her dark waves and blotted her lip gloss. Obviously, this night was about her dad, but it was hard not to be a little excited to see Brooks in an environment other than school. Brinley, on the other hand…no
t so much.

  An unfamiliar anxiety spread across her father’s features. He had weighed the pros and cons of hiring Thomas Madison every which way on the car ride over, hoping he would know whether or not to pull the trigger after dinner tonight. But as soon as the Madison’s housekeeper opened the door, he flashed a wide smile, all traces of apprehension disappearing into it.

  They stepped into the large, formal foyer and the housekeeper took their coats before leading them toward one of the three living rooms. Taryn had been in the house once before a few weeks ago when she and Brinley had been assigned to do a history project together, and Taryn remembered thinking what a waste of space it was to have more than one living room. The Madisons could have at least done something fun with one of them instead of stuffing the same boring old antique furniture into all three.

  As soon as Taryn entered living room number one, she saw Brooks. He was standing by the fire in a white collared shirt so perfectly pressed and starched, it could have stood up on its own and walked out of the room. His hands rested casually in the pockets of his gray wool herringbone pants and he gave Taryn a small, mischievous smile like they shared a secret. She smiled back, fully aware her heart had picked up its rhythm like it was suddenly dancing to a Jay-Z beat.

  Katherine and Thomas Madison gracefully rose from their seats on the uncomfortable-looking cream and gold tufted sofa in the center of the room. Taryn had never met either of them and she was more than a little wary. Brinley must have inherited her ruthless ways from one of them. Or both. Taryn shivered at the thought.

  “So glad you all could make it,” Thomas said as he extended his hand to her dad. His voice was confident and firm, probably a lot like his handshake. He had the same thick brown hair as Brooks, a similarly tall frame and clearly the same affinity for formal clothing. While her father was dressed down in a collared shirt and slacks, Thomas was wearing a full-on suit, his expensive black dress shoes gleaming underneath like they had been shined five minutes ago.

  Elegant was the only word Taryn could think of to describe Katherine Madison, who smiled graciously beside him. Her posture was perfect, not a hair was out of place in her auburn chignon, and her burgundy belted silk dress didn’t have a hint of a crease. She couldn’t discern their personalities yet, but looks-wise, Brooks was the perfect combination of his mother and father.

  “Brinley will be right down. She’s just finishing up her homework,” Katherine said apologetically. “In the meantime, would you all like a beverage? I thought we’d have drinks here in the parlor before moving into the dining room for dinner.”

  This was sounding like a meal at Downton Abbey. Who called the living room a parlor?

  As Katherine took her parents’ and Ryland’s drink orders, Brooks sidled up beside her.

  “How’s the ankle, Tare-Bear?” he asked, his light brown eyes shining. She wished her dad had never used that nickname in front of him the other day. Not exactly what you want the guy you have a crush on to be calling you. “I see you’re back to footwear that doesn’t look like you’re carting around toy poodles on your feet.”

  She rolled her eyes playfully, but the second he mentioned her ankle, a bolt of pain stabbed at her from inside her bootie. “Actually, I’m kind of missing my furry friends right now.”

  A look of concern flashed across his face. “Why don’t we sit down?”

  She nodded and he led her over to a loveseat that looked more like a throne. Anything was better than standing at this point, though, and she sank into it as much as possible considering the back was so rigid it was like sitting in a desk chair. He sat closely beside her, his distinctive spicy cologne wafting her way. She loved that he wore cologne all the time. He was a senior, only two years older than her, but something about him seemed much more sophisticated than the other guys at G.A.

  “How are you doing with all this?” Brooks asked, studying her carefully the way he always did when he spoke to her.

  She realized she hadn’t spoken to anyone outside her family yet about any of this. Her parents were so overwhelmed they hadn’t really asked her how she was feeling about it. Now that she considered it, the entire thing hadn’t felt truly real until tonight when her dad announced Marilyn as the other candidate. But instead of this making her more nervous about the process, it added to the excitement. Her dad was exactly what this country needed in the White House and he had a fifty-fifty shot of getting there.

  “I’m good,” she finally responded truthfully. “I love changing things up. And if he becomes vice president, I’ll still be the same person, just with some beefy guys surrounding me all the time. It’ll be like my kickboxing class at Crunch in L.A.”

  Brooks shook his head, smiling from the left corner of his mouth. “Do birds sing to you when you walk down the street?”

  She laughed. “I think I need to teach you how to not take everything so seriously all the time.”

  “Really?” He leaned his face a little closer to hers and she immediately wished they weren’t in the same room as their parents. “And how would you go about doing that?”

  “I’d probably start with your clothes,” she said, touching his white shirt for a fraction of a second and sending a current of electricity up her arm. “Maybe give you a little more of a relaxed look once in a while. Do you even own a hoodie?”

  He furrowed his brow, unimpressed. “Can you picture me in a hoodie?”

  “Good point.” And the truth was, he rocked his look better than a runway model. “So enlighten me. What is Brooks Madison’s typical weekend-wear look? Does it involve a sport coat?”

  There it was. The perfect segue for him to ask her out on a date for this weekend. All he had to respond was, “I guess you’ll have to see for yourself. What are you doing Friday?” or “I may just have to show you. How about Saturday night?” She could picture both of those statements rolling easily off his tongue.

  “Only if I’m going to a polo match,” he winked.

  Why can’t guys ever say what you want them to say? That response wasn’t even remotely in the ballpark. A pang of disappointment flooded her.

  “Besides I’m not sure I should be taking fashion advice from someone who owns as much leopard print as you do,” he added with a smirk.

  Before she could respond, Brinley swept into the room, looking as polished as her mother in a black, flared wool miniskirt and cream cashmere sweater.

  “I’m so sorry I’m late,” she announced to the room in a voice so saccharine sweet Taryn had to hold herself back from laughing. Or gagging.

  Brinley quickly introduced herself to Taryn’s parents and Ryland, then glided over to the loveseat where Taryn and Brooks sat. She cocked her head and gave Taryn a close-mouthed fake smile.

  “Well, Taryn, it’s been quite the week for you, hasn’t it?” she said in a condescending voice out of earshot from their parents. “The last time something this exciting happened to you must have been when they franchised Pinkberry.”

  Taryn rolled her eyes. It looked like this was going to be a very long night.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Tuesday, 8:13 p.m.

  Brinley picked at her sun-dried tomato risotto at the long mahogany table in the Madison dining room, wishing this interminable dinner was over. Their family chef, Paula, had had to prepare an entirely vegetarian meal to appease the Reyes’ self-righteous eating habits, and what made it even more annoying was Brinley could swear Taryn’s mom’s tacky cobalt platform pumps were made of leather.

  Brinley had avoided coming downstairs for as long as possible, lying to her mother that she was swamped with homework. In actuality, she had been holed up in her room, debating whether or not to text Shane, the hotel desk clerk from Stowe she had hooked up with on the ski retreat last week.

  As soon as she arrived back in D.C., she regretted saying good-bye to him so abruptly. And rudely, if she was being honest with herself. At the time, she had thought it best if she left no room for discussion as to whether they woul
d speak again, convincing herself it was nothing more than a vacation fling anyway. But for the past few days, he kept flashing through her brain, catching her off-guard and making her doubt her decision not to keep in touch. There was something different about him compared to the other guys she was surrounded by all the time. And it wasn’t only because he didn’t have a personal connection to at least one Supreme Court Justice. In fact, he probably couldn’t name more than one. But she liked how relaxed she felt around him, completely free of the D.C. pressure that had been so all-consuming it left her with an Adderall addiction she had only recently kicked.

  So in a moment of weakness a few minutes before she trudged down to the parlor to begin this abominable evening, she hadn’t been able to stop herself from texting him an innocuous, how are you. Ten minutes later, she still hadn’t received a text back, which led her to speed dial her facialist at Mandarin Oriental because she could feel a stress pimple suddenly forming at the base of her chin. But for some godforsaken reason, Kim-Yee was not willing to shift her schedule around tomorrow as she usually did for Brinley, which meant she was going to have to slum it at the Four Seasons Spa unless she wanted this Shane-induced pimple to hijack her entire face.

  Adding to her anxiety, she had no clue if there would be a text from him waiting for her after dinner. She had to leave her phone in her room because her mother found cell phones in the dining room to be in poor taste.

  Maybe it was better if he didn’t text her back, though. What did she really expect out of this? It’s not like she could tell anyone about him or have him come to D.C. for a visit. She had had to go to painstaking lengths on the ski trip to ensure no one found out Brinley Madison had hooked up with a townie and she still wasn’t willing to expose herself and risk her reputation over it.

  She turned her attention back to the conversation at the dinner table, hoping it would serve as a distraction from the memory of making out with Shane after their amazing ice skating date, his bright blue eyes shining in the half-light by the fire.