Amigas and School Scandals

by Diana Rodriguez Wallach

  “You know, kids kill themselves here all the time,” Vince whispered ominously.

  “Nuh uh,” Madison scoffed, resting against the rail.

  “Yeah, they do. At least one kid dives into the gorge each semester. But no one’s jumped yet... .”

  “Vince, you’re lying.”

  Lilly and Emily stepped beside me. We all pushed against the rail, staring into the dramatic gorge.

  “I’m serious. Cornell has the highest suicide rate in the country. Ask anyone. But, seriously, who knows if they’re all really suicides.. . .”

  “What are you talking about?” asked Lilly.

  “Kids get drunk all the time. Can you imagine wobbling over this bridge wasted in the dark? I mean, accidents happen.”

  “You’re saying kids just fall in?” Lilly asked.

  “Don’t believe him!” I warned.

  “Fine, don’t. But if you look all the way down, all the way to the bottom, you can see the wooden crosses students placed in honor of every student who’s jumped,” he whispered in a deep voice before taking a few steps back.

  “No way,” Emily muttered.

  “Where?” Madison asked.

  “All the way at the bottom. Off toward the right.”

  We craned our necks over the rail, peering into the dark. My hands gripped the metal spokes as I glimpsed a hint of something faint below. I strained my eyes, struggling to make it out, until suddenly the bridge rocked below my feet. My upper body flung back as I stumbled to catch my balance in the rapid ripple of quakes.

  We yelped, our hands clenched to our chests, as we spun around to find Vince laughing hysterically. He was jumping up and down.

  “That was awesome!” Vince yelled between cackles. “I can’t believe you guys fell for that!”

  He bent over with a spasm of giggles. I quickly darted toward him with my leather purse held high.

  “You jerk!” I screamed, pounding him with my oversized bag.

  Lilly, Madison, and Emily rushed over, their bags swinging.

  “I can’t believe you did that!”

  “Jerk, jerk, jerk!”

  “Stop it! Stop it! Can’t you take a joke?” he hollered, his arms swatting wildly.

  “That was rude!” I yelled with a massive thud.

  “It was funny!” he said. “The bridge shakes.”

  He glanced up innocently, then quickly straightened his shoulders, perfected his posture, and calmed his expression.

  “Um, hey! Good to see you,” he said to a person standing behind us.

  We all slowly placed our bags on our shoulders as discreetly as possible. A rash of heat sprinkled across my face. I didn’t know why I cared that a stranger saw me assaulting my brother with an angry mob, but for some reason I did.

  “Don’t mind my sister,” Vince muttered, clearing his throat. “Hey, wait. You’re the alum from Spring Mills, right? My sister and her friends go there.”

  We all turned around, knowing in the pit of our stomachs exactly what was about to transpire, but still unprepared anyway. I landed face-to-face with Bobby and his dad, and the air sucked from my chest. My face burned from pink to fire-engine red.

  “Bobby, aren’t these your friends from the film screening?” Mr. McNabb asked, staring at us. We stayed mute.

  “Um, yeah,” Bobby muttered, nodding. “Uh, hi.”

  I forced an unnatural smile.

  Chapter 35

  We sat alone in Vince’s room. He was at the frat house helping make dinner for his new brothers. Not that they needed help; the fraternity employed a full-time cook. But during initiation, they gave their greasy-omelet-maker the week off while pledges took over breakfast, lunch, and dinner duties. Vince was cooking spaghetti and meatballs while we dined on pizza and watched Madison apply her seventh layer of mascara.

  “They’re college guys,” she insisted for the umpteenth time.

  “They’re college guys who were in high school just last year,” Lilly pointed out as she stretched across Vince’s bed.

  “Not all of them. And regardless, they’re still cooler than the bunch of losers we go to school with.”

  “Yeah, well when those ‘losers’ go to college will that instantly make them cool?”

  Madison sighed and put down her mascara.

  “Hey, I realize that Spring Mills is new to you, and the guys might seem ‘fantastico.’ But we’ve been stuck with them for twelve years. We’ve seen them eat paste.”

  Lilly squinted her eyes as Madison casually yanked a lip-gloss palette out of her makeup bag.

  “Whatever.” Lilly sighed. “I really don’t think you guys have much to complain about. The boys at your school are smart and nice and normal.”

  “What? Like Evan?”

  My gaze shot toward Madison. She looked smug.

  “Maybe. Why not?”

  Madison pumped her shouders. “’Cause he’s not that great.”

  “How would you know?”

  “Because everyone knows.”

  “Look, we’re at Cornell. Who cares about Evan Casey?” I said. “Seriously, there is a whole fraternity of guys over there who have never heard of Spring Mills. Let’s enjoy that for the night.”

  “That’s not true,” Emily mumbled.

  She was seated by the window with a slice of uneaten pizza resting on a paper plate beside her. Even as she spoke, she continued staring at the group of guys tossing a football in the quad.

  “What? Because of Bobby?” Madison asked.

  “Uh, yeah.”

  “Em, he’s gonna be there with his dad,” I stated. “It’s not like he can have a rip-roaring good time. He’ll probably leave before midnight.”

  She peered out the window, her mood hovering above a fault line between sullen and depressed.

  I couldn’t believe Bobby’s father was an alum in Vince’s fraternity. Of all the schools and all the frats, these two worlds had to collide at the exact wrong moment. Last year, a connection between Bobby and Vince would have been utterly insignificant. But now, with Emily pouting at the mention of his name and me sweating at the sight of him, things were getting complicated.

  “So, how weird was it seeing Bobby on the bridge today?” Madison asked us through the mirror as she dusted her face with powder. “It was like that time I saw Dean Pruitt having dinner with his wife in a restaurant ... like normal people.”

  “I know.” I nodded. “Seeing teachers outside of school is bizarre. Like you expect them to exist only in that building.”

  I was hoping to shift the conversation and perk Emily up, but her sunken eyelids continued to hang heavily as she gazed out the window at nothing. I looked at Madison through the mirror and gestured toward Emily. She shrugged and shook her head, as if acknowledging the hopelessness of the situation.

  “Hey, Em. You okay?” I asked.

  No response.

  “Um, Emily ... Hello ... Em!”

  She shook her head and turned her dead eyes toward me.

  “What? I’m sorry. Did you say something?”

  “Is something wrong?” I asked softly.

  “No, I was just thinking,” she whispered.

  “Dude, Em, you gotta lighten up,” Madison griped. “We’re visiting a college. On our own. Without our parents. And only Vince, ‘he who has been arrested for underage drinking,’ as a chaperone. What’s there to mope about?”

  “Nothing. I’m not moping. I just, I don’t know.” She ran her fingers through the short chocolate layers near her face. “We ready to go soon?”

  “Yeah,” I said.

  “Well, that depends on how many more coats of makeup Madison cakes on,” Lilly joked.

  “Very funny.” Madison tossed a makeup brush at her.

  “Be careful! You don’t want to waste any!” Lilly chuckled, batting the brush away.

  We all giggled, even Emily.

  About thirty minutes later, Vince swung by the dorm and walked us to his frat house. The place looked like Cinderella’s c
astle. Thick gray stones soared three stories high with round, pointed towers flanking each end. A parking lot sat in the rear, covered in golden leaves shed from the grove of trees shading the property. In front was a stone patio that swept along the house to the rustic wooden door that led inside. If there were a moat, I was certain the door could serve as a drawbridge; that’s how solid it was.

  The party wouldn’t start for another hour, so when we walked in, all of the brothers were setting up beer stations and entertaining alums who had strolled through hoping to see their old bedrooms. We sat down on the massive brown leather couches in the front atrium. The ceiling stood at least thirty feet above us, with a wooden railing encircling the balcony of the second floor. That’s where the new brothers’ bedrooms were, where Vince hoped to live next year. I was told that in the rear of the house was a staircase that led up to upperclassmen’s rooms on the third floor (which had access to the castle towers) and down to the basement suites (which had their own outdoor patios and were only steps away from the twenty-four-hour kitchen).

  The first floor atrium, where we were seated, was lined with sweeping archways that led to game rooms, TV rooms, dining rooms, and libraries. The party would be held entirely on this floor. Vince was currently setting up the speakers in one of the libraries; so Madison, Lilly, and I whispered to each other as we watched his brothers pass.

  “Okay, he’s hot,” Madison said softly as she pointed to a blond guy with cropped hair, a goatee, and a crew team T-shirt.

  “He’s okay, but he’s kinda short,” said Lilly. “I like that guy.”

  She pointed to a dark-haired, dark-eyed twenty-something who looked like he had a mix of ethnicities running through his veins.

  “You think he’s Asian?” Madison asked.

  “Probably half,” I replied. “He kinda looks like Tiger Woods.”

  They nodded in agreement.

  “Nice pick,” I said.

  “I still think the blond’s hotter,” Madison stated.

  “That’s because you are blond,” said Lilly.

  “So? What does that have to do with anything?”

  “Blonds prefer other blonds. You guys are drawn to each other. Like every other color is inferior.”

  Madison grunted. “Not my fault you’re a redhead.”

  “It’s auburn,” Lilly and I defended in unison.

  “What-ev,” Madison chuckled.

  “I’d have you know that there are entire redhead fetishes out there,” I stated.

  “There are foot fetishes too. Is that really the company you want to keep?”

  “Shut up,” I huffed, shoving her shoulder.

  “All right! I’m done!” Vince cheered as he entered the atrium. “Lemme take you guys on the grand tour. Introduce you to people.”

  We all stood and smoothed our carefully chosen skirts and jeans. Madison, of course, had chosen a black skirt and heels to highlight her perfect, petite butt. I, however, wore the same jeans I wore to the bonfire. Vince had warned me that the cuffs of my pants might have an inch of beer sludge on them by the night’s end. Madison refused to take the advice, as expected. The day she chose practicality over fashion would be the day Vogue displayed “mom jeans” and sweater vests on its cover.

  We followed Vince toward a wide sweeping staircase. His first order of business was to show us the restrooms we could use during the party. He had managed to gain us access to one of the brothers’ private bathrooms so we wouldn’t have to wait in line. Apparently, toilet privileges were a huge honor in the fraternity, and Vince was overjoyed at having pulled off such a major feat for his little sister. I couldn’t wait to tell Mom and Dad. They’d be so proud.

  Chapter 36

  By ten o’clock the house was full of strangers. Girls with center-parted, straight hair and boot-cut jeans chatted with guys in gray T-shirts, baggy pants, and short haircuts. Red and blue keg cups were clutched in every hand. Top 40 tunes blared through the speakers, and the musty smell of beer filled the air.

  My feet were sticking to the wood floor as I walked toward the bookcase my friends congregated before. I wasn’t even drinking, and I was still the first to use the bathroom. I’ve always had the bladder of an infant. I had to pee right before every ballet performance, or I wouldn’t be able to hold it the entire show. And after seeing the mildew-stained, urine-scented bathroom, which was considered “really nice” for Vince’s fraternity, I guessed that my bladder would be getting quite a workout while I tried to hold it in for the next several hours.

  “So how was it?” Madison asked as Lilly and I returned.

  We peed in pairs, mostly so one could guard the door while the other was occupied. The lock, of course, was broken.

  “Ya know those rest stops on I-95?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “That bad, huh?”

  “Worse. Like hold-your-nose-to-try-not-to-gag gross.”

  “Well, that would explain why a group of guys just peed out the window.”

  “They did not!”

  “Oh, yeah. They just opened the window over there and whipped it out.” Madison pointed to a row of old windows nestled between two oak bookcases. “They didn’t care who saw.”

  “One guy farted,” Emily added.

  “I can’t believe these are Vince’s friends.”

  I watched as Madison sipped her warm beer. She had been holding it so long it had lost its foam. She hated the taste. So did Emily and I. Lilly, on the other hand, had no problem sucking them down. She was already halfway through her second cup, which Vince proudly fetched for her.

  Emily and I were empty-fisted. I debated getting a beer just to have something to hold. But people kept bumping into us, and I figured it wasn’t worth the stains on my clothes.

  “So, do we just keep standing here talking in a circle? Or do we go up to some of these guys?” Lilly asked as she scanned the room.

  “You go first,” I nodded at her with a crooked grin.

  “I mean, isn’t this why we came here? To meet guys? ’Cause we’re never gonna do that standing here yappin’ to each other.”

  “Yeah, but it’s still early,” Madison defended.

  “And I’m sure Vince will introduce us to people. Just wait,” I added.

  Truthfully, the idea of walking up to a complete stranger and introducing myself made me want to throw up in my mouth a little. I wasn’t shy, once I knew the person. But getting over that initial hump was another story. I preferred a solid, well-orchestrated introduction, and I was willing to wait for my brother to offer it.

  “Hey, Em, I think that guy’s checking you out,” Madison stated, nudging our friend with her elbow.

  I followed Madison’s gaze to a very tall, very built, brown-haired guy with blue eyes so bright we could see them across the room. He was standing by the front door with a pack of equally gorgeous friends, who I could only suspect were basketball stars, because each one was taller than the next. The brunette slowly ran his hand across the back of his neck as his eyes smiled at Emily.

  “Oh, my God. He is!” I cheered, batting her thigh with the back of my hand.

  Emily shuffled her feet and slid her fingers through her glossy brown hair. “No he’s not.”

  “He definitely is,” Lilly agreed, craning her neck to see him.

  “Okay, we’re staring at him like rejects,” Madison warned, turning her head back around. “We’re gonna freak him out.”

  “Why don’t you go over there and talk to him?” Lilly suggested.

  “No way.” Emily shook her head.

  “Why not?”

  “Well, first off, we’re jail bait,” Emily pointed out plainly.

  “What are you talking about?” Lilly asked.

  “You know it’s illegal for any of these guys to actually hook up with us, right?” I thought it was an obvious detail.

  “Shut up! Seriously?”

  “Lil, you’re fifteen! These guys could be in their twenties.”

  “Oh, good point
.”

  Just then, the massive front door opened and in walked a pack of older men ranging from their thirties to their fifties. They were all decked out in dark suits with crimson and cobalt ties. Most were on the pudgy side, and more than half looked like well-worn fathers. It was clear they were the men who donated to the house we were standing in; who provided scholarships to the students currently attending; and who paid the bills for their cook, their furniture, and their flat screen TVs. Near the edge of the crowd, I spotted Mr. McNabb, and right behind him was a pool of teenagers, Bobby among them.

  I turned toward Emily, who drew in a quick breath.

  “Ya know what?” Emily said suddenly. “I want a drink. Lilly, will you show me where you got that?”

  She raised her chin at my cousin’s plastic cup.

  “Um, well, Vince got it for me. But I think the keg’s in the back.”

  Emily spun around and charged toward the game room. Lilly was right behind her.

  Bobby made a beeline straight for us. His dad and his peers were engulfed by the brothers, and their teenage sons looked happy for a much-needed reprieve.

  “Do you have any idea what it’s like listening to a forty-eight-hour sales pitch from your father?” Bobby asked as he sauntered over.

  “My dad’s the head of marketing for a Fortune 500 company,” Madison remarked, staring at her phone. “I get sales pitches on whether to order chicken or fish.”

  “But is your dad insisting that you go to his alma mater?”

  “Actually he is.” She smiled. “But I’m fine with it. I’d love to go to Duke. Practically, my whole family went there.”

  “Yeah, well, great for you. But I want to go to NYU in Manhattan. Not some pretentious school in the middle of nowhere.”

  “I don’t think it’s pretentious,” Madison stated as her manicured fingers flew over the keys of her cell.

  Bobby narrowed his eyes at her and pulled his lips tight. He was about to pop.

  “Did you tell your dad how you feel?” I asked.

  “Uh, yeah. Of course. And you’d think since the man teaches at Penn, he’d be a little more open-minded regarding the quality of academic institutions other than the one on his diploma. But noooooo.”