by Tara Brown
Fuck the week. If things kept going in this direction, this was going to be an impossible summer.
“Can I ask you a serious question?” he asked after swallowing some water.
“Maybe?” The question made my stomach tense, but I knew I owed him answers. He was about to go into the lion’s den.
“Why did you seem like you needed to drink last night? Did something happen?”
“No.” A slow smile spread across my lips. “I was—am—worried about this week. I haven’t given much thought to the fact that I’m going to be facing Cait until now. I’m panicking a bit, I guess. It’s here, it’s real. The weeks of us plotting and scheming are over, and it’s time to implement.” I sighed. “And there is a deep fear that she will still win. Because she always does.”
“She won’t win.” He shook his head. “And even if she does, what’s the worst thing that could happen?”
“Oh, well, firstly there’s the possibility that I’ll introduce her to you and you’ll fall head over heels in love with her. She’s gorgeous and good at snake charming—”
“I’m the snake?” He cut me off, sounding insulted but making me laugh.
“Yeah, but not in a bad way. More like a cute snake—a friendly snake.” I dug that hole deeper, feeling my face flush with embarrassment.
“I’m a friendly snake?”
“Right.” I giggled. “And she’ll charm you, and then you’ll betray us to her, and then she’ll use you to make a trap for me. Humiliating me publicly, because that’s her way of doing things. And my mother will hate me for being such a failure at life.”
“This is a really extreme set of consequences for a summer of frivolities.” He laughed too.
“But it’s not just frivolities. It’s businesses that won’t hire me or my brother or sister. It’s families who won’t invite my family to functions. It’s business connections my dad will lose. It’s friendships my mother will have sacrificed. It’s all connected.”
“Kennedy? You think Americans are forgetting that last name anytime soon?” He lifted an eyebrow doubtfully.
“No, but that’s how it works out here. Cait Landry doesn’t just ruin you, she takes down everyone else with her. She’s a savage.”
“This sounds insane. You do see that there is a whole world outside of this place, right?” A grin crept across his lips.
“No.” I lowered my fork, sitting back and shaking my head. “That’s the problem. I don’t see the world outside of this.”
“Then maybe when this is all over, I can show you. For the sake of giving you some perspective, of course.” He said it cruelly, but I’d learned enough of him to understand he didn’t mean it like that. He wasn’t cruel; he was real.
“Maybe.” I tapped my fork against the edge of the plate for a moment. “Either way, Thursday is the big day. The first day of Fling Club, the first annual meeting.” I tried not to feel the sense of dread and fear that had started within me from the moment we began this journey.
“And you are going to see it for the first time through your new frame of mind. No more rose-colored glasses,” he teased. “I just hope you’ll be able to sit through the whole meeting.”
I smiled and continued eating, realizing I hadn’t even doubted I would sit through the whole meeting. I never doubted my behavior at all. I just assumed I would suffer through all of this, toeing the line like always.
But he was right; this was the first time I was free of the taint and spin my mother had put on this world and its unacceptable behaviors that I’d always assumed to be normal. I was the one going into the lion’s den, not Ashley. I was the one who was different and would have to act the part for the first time.
I wasn’t so sure I would be able to toe the line this time.
I wasn’t so sure I could hide the differences in me.
I wasn’t sure I wanted to.
Chapter Sixteen
VENGEANCE WITH A CAPITAL V
Cherry
Almost late, I rushed across the foyer of the old country club. It was Thursday at last, and we were finally about to be set free from the house that angst built. I should have been more excited, but I was about to see Cait—expressly not exciting. Even Ella’s hour-long speech, getting me warmed up for my first time “back in the trenches” as she lovingly called it, couldn’t calm me down.
“Rachel!” I called to the girl my mom had demanded I invite into the club. Not that I wanted to indoctrinate anyone else into this bitch platoon.
The cute brunette waved and hurried over to me. “Hi, Cherry. Good to see you again.” We hugged. We were fake friends, having only met a couple of times.
“We better hurry in.” I linked my arm in hers and hustled down the stairs to the room where we held the Spring Fling meeting every year. Only Fling Club members were supposed to know what was actually going on—not Spring Fling planning at all.
Every spring, we—certain alumnae from Paulson Academy—and our approved guests, who were still single and under twenty-two, met in the old lounge of the country club under the pretense of a committee meeting for the Spring Fling. Really it was the annual Fling Club initiation.
Out here Fling Club was everything.
It was by invite only—the most exclusive club on the entire East Coast. Nothing but a personal invite from Cait or one of the older girls got you in, and Paulson connections were everything.
You never spoke of it.
If you wanted a social life in the Hamptons, this was the only way.
“So, is this legit?” Rachel asked.
“It’s so legit, you might not want in,” I whispered. “It’s like the Mean Girls edition of one of those secret fraternities.” I snickered and found a seat, almost sad Rachel would have to endure a whole summer of this, but glad I was saving her and the rest of the members from a whole future of such a charade.
Glancing around the room, I saw all the usual suspects but sat away from my friends, not sure I could keep my rage under control and not in the mood to introduce Rachel with the effort needed.
“There are ten rules, ladies.” Our leader started the meeting the moment the doors closed, silencing everyone. “Ten rules to a perfect summer, which of course includes your perfect summer fling.” Cait Landry paced in front of us, her heels clicking on the old parquet flooring. Every step she took was another spike being driven into the coffin of our friendship. I wanted her dead. It was extreme, but it was where I was emotionally.
Seeing her for the first time, no matter how much I’d mentally prepared for this moment, made me savagely angry. And my fire for vengeance was entirely restoked.
“Rule one: If he doesn’t belong to the country club, he doesn’t belong in your pants. Not in public, anyway. Try to remember your breeding, girls. Select only the finest for your fling; the world is watching.” Cait’s eyes were filled with judgment as her stare landed on a few of the girls she was preaching to.
Silently I wished a thousand plagues upon the house of our fearless leader.
Erica’s stare landed on me, checking me with concern.
I smiled, forcing my lips to lift and prove I was still okay. I pretended that I didn’t feel rage.
I did.
I was sitting still and calm, but not because I was cool with Cait.
It wasn’t that I didn’t want to burst and strangle her; I did. But I was a professional at hiding my feelings.
I’d coasted silently for years, never stirring the pot or making waves. Being a yes-man was Survival 101 with Cait. I’d done everything she ever wanted.
And how did she repay me?
By sleeping with my boyfriend. Not a fling, an actual boyfriend.
An act I’d imagined I would eventually get over, especially after spearheading her demise.
Boy, was I ever wrong . . .
Sitting here, seeing her again for the first time since I last saw her naked body wrapped around my boyfriend, in my sheets, I could tell there was not going to be any getting over
it. I had dreaded coming here tonight, but now I regretted ever second-guessing the plan for vengeance.
Andy and Ella were right.
This had to happen.
I needed blood to spill. Even if it was just metaphorical blood.
I was just grateful I hadn’t acted on my feelings for Ashley. He was still in the running to be her date, and I didn’t need to overcomplicate the scenario. I had bigger fish to fry.
“Rule two: never say the L word, unless it’s loser, again not in public.” Cait pointed her stare on another unfortunate soul. I’m surprised she didn’t turn to stone.
Jenny Bassette.
Jenny lowered her gaze in dishonor as her cheeks flushed.
Two summers ago, the petite blonde had been caught saying I love you to her fling. An act that brought shame on us all. I myself had learned that doing such a thing only got you burned.
“Does everyone understand the first two rules thus far?”
Jenny nodded softly, still not meeting Cait’s stern gaze.
Jenny’s pitiful submission reminded me of who I’d been all my life. And it inspired within me a whole new sensation that I’d never felt for anyone before: hatred.
I didn’t even hate Griffin. He had taken a beating, emotionally and physically, so in my mind we were close to squared. Yes, he’d wronged me in love. It was a terrible thing to do, but his betrayal wasn’t the stuff Cait’s was made of. Here she was, demanding we play by her rules, while she had been breaking them all along. She had defined my life while brainwashing me into being someone I wasn’t.
And the worst part was that Griffin was only one line on a long list of dirty deeds. There were loads of things I suppressed in order to survive her.
But I was starting to remember.
And I was starting to see.
This was going to be a long summer filled with pain and suffering.
And none of it would be mine for a change.
“Rule three: No reheating a sister’s old leftovers. So that means if he was mine last summer, or ever, you will avoid him. We don’t share undergarments; gentlemen are in the same category. Part of the fun is finding fresh meat.”
I nearly choked.
That was easy for her to say, but apparently hard for her to do, considering she just ate off my plate.
Every year, Cait would wait to see who the rest of us brought to the table and have her pick. And since she was the girl in charge of country club socializing, everyone would step back as she made her claim.
We each had to bring a guy to the first meeting, one guy who met all the club qualifications. He didn’t have to be for us, just something to throw on the donation pile. Of course, this year would be different.
This year I would bring Ashley as bait. And Cait would fall right into my clutches. For the first time, I would have the upper hand. And I was going to use it. I was going to take her down, even if it meant I couldn’t hook up with Ashley. Be strong my loins . . .
“Rule four: Hos before bros; whoever sees him first gets him. If I call dibs, you bitches will leave him the hell alone. As friends, we don’t steal other friends’ boys.”
I almost rolled my eyes but managed to hold it together. I took a deep inhale and waited for my rapidly beating heart to slow down again. Sweat crested my brow as I shuddered with rage.
“Rule five: See rule four; don’t try to date a brother without permission. Don’t try to date my brother, or Aubrey’s or Claire’s or Cherry’s. We saw his junk when we were kids, and we don’t want to hear about your filthy summer sexcapades with him. The only exception to the rule is if you get the approval of the sister in question. None of you whores better ask me about Creston. It’s a firm no.”
Her eyes never even came near me. The entire meeting, she had avoided me.
I wondered if word had gotten back to her yet that I suspected what she had done. My heart didn’t slow, and the sweat didn’t stop. I wasn’t sure I would make it out of the room, or rather if she would make it out alive.
“Rule six: Minimize couple’s time. This isn’t courting, it’s socializing. We do not go to school this fall with the boy we let dry hump us all summer long at parties. You will not fall for these boys. The whole point of Fling Club is that it’s a fling. There are no strings attached. Which means we do not get attached. This strict policy keeps the guys on their toes. We run the game. We run the show. We run the world.”
The other girls all cheered like she was Michelle Obama or Beyoncé giving a speech on female empowerment.
“Rule seven: Act the part—lady in the streets and freak in the sheets. I don’t think I need to explain that, and if I do, it’s over your head.” Cait laughed a little.
“Rule eight: We don’t pay. Go Dutch and you’re out. We have an image to maintain. If you can’t tell a guy in his early twenties what to do, God help you in marriage.” Again her eyes landed on certain people in the crowd.
I didn’t like this rule. I’d never agreed girls should try to get whatever they could from the men in their lives. It was skeezy. Not to mention we all came from money. Who cared who paid with which fortune? But Cait had everyone brainwashed into believing we did this so we would be the ones dragging boys along on leashes, controlling the entirety of fun for the summer. Like we were prizes for them to vie for.
“Rule nine: Protect yourself. That means your body and your reputation. Social media is no joke, and neither are STDs. No one here needs to know your business. Try to remember who your parents are.” She clapped her hands together as she reached the last rule.
Thank God.
Listening to her rattle on was annoying most summers; this summer it was unbearable.
Her smile grew wide and possibly authentic. “Rule ten: Everything has an expiration date. Playtime ends August 31. This date is not a suggestion; it’s firm and set. We have a tradition to uphold. All the Paulson girls go to college single. We do not marry early. We do not have babies before it’s socially acceptable.” She flung her shiny blonde hair back and paced in front of us like we were her recruits in the Marine Corps, crossing her arms and giving us her intense, steely-eyed stare. “Any questions?” That was rhetorical.
After so many years of this, I finally saw it for what it was.
Bravado of the worst kind.
All along I’d missed it, believing it was more important to belong than to stand up. But Ella had been completely right about the “it” girls and this club.
It was a farce.
And our fearless leader was a dick.
I wanted my time back.
I wanted my money back.
I wanted a refund on the whole experience.
I almost laughed at Cait, but I imagined the sheeple surrounding me would attack. I would be sacrificed to the goddess of summer fun and naive girls everywhere.
That would be a sight to behold. Them running after me, all of us in our heels and little skirts. It would involve tripping and injuries. It’d be messy.
Cait’s eyes finally landed on me, possibly by mistake. She winced slightly, but then maybe noticed the bitter humor on my face. “Cherry!” She spoke with a venomous smile. “Do you have something to add?”
“Not a thing.” I shook my head. “I think you covered all the bases, Cait.”
A couple of girls snickered at that.
Cait narrowed her gaze, then turned to the rest of the room. “You’ll all be thanking me when you leave this summer without chlamydia and a clingy guy. Maybe you’ll even go on to make something of yourselves that we can all be proud of.”
I was so glad this was my last summer of this shit.
Cait watched us all until finally we looked down, proving how much lower we were in status.
But I didn’t believe it.
No.
This was the first summer where I saw her for the fraud she was.
“Anyway, take a copy of the rules. Memorize them, burn them, never speak of them. See you all at my house for date selection for the Spri
ng Fling Saturday night.” She turned on her four-inch heel and strutted from the room, sashaying to the elevator.
Rachel glanced over at me and whispered, “Was that real?”
“Yeah,” I said with a laugh. “Unfortunately.”
“Thanks for bringing me. This is going to be a super-fun summer.” The sarcasm was strong with this one. We had only hung out a few times a couple of summers ago when she was visiting her grandparents, and even with that little time spent together, she was my favorite person in the room. She didn’t drink the Kool-Aid. She saw our world for what it was.
“You don’t have a choice; you have to join,” I whispered back, trying to repair my slip of honesty with her. “It’s the only way to have a life in the Hamptons. Besides, Cait’s just intense in the beginning. She gets more fun after the initial rule speech,” I lied. I hadn’t told Rachel our evil plan; I didn’t know her well enough to divulge such information.
We stood and walked past the entrance, where she grabbed a set of the rules and followed me out of the small banquet room in the basement of the clubhouse.
Rachel leaned in as we walked up the stairs. “These are strict. Are there even enough guys to go around?”
“Yeah,” I whispered back. “Fortunately, there’s no actual age limit on the guys. Just as long as he’s a blue blood or incredibly wealthy nouveau riche, he’s fair game.”
“So, he can be from a totally different town?”
“Not exactly. He has to summer out here and be connected. It used to be that he had to be from Paulson as well, but we were burning through guys too quickly with Cait’s no-leftovers rule.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I suppose a guy from out of town would be hard to bring to functions.”
“It’s easier when they have a helicopter,” I muttered. “Personally, I enjoy dating a guy who lives in the city and only comes to the beach for the weekends. Then the summer is yours, and you don’t have to worry about who is escorting you to the functions. You have free time and a date, and Cait’s happy.” I accidentally snarled the last words.
“She’s such a control freak.”
“She is.”
“How bad is the club?”