Bridgeport Academy #2

by AshleyValentine

  “What’s this for?” Crystal squealed with delight. She loved champagne. It was the only thing that made weddings and debutante balls bearable.

  After the bartender left, Jade said, “My treat. I thought we could toast to our first all-girl outing and to the start of the secret society!”

  Crystal felt the men at the bar staring at them, trying to hear what they were saying. But instead of creeping her out, it made her feel sexy and bold. She could use some male attention right now, even from leering middle-aged alcoholics. “Cheers!” Crystal raised her glass and clinked it against Naomi’s. Take that, Zane, she thought as she took her first sip. Then she downed it in order to stop talking to him in her head.

  “So,” Naomi said with a giggle in her voice, the champagne clearly having the desired effect. “What does a secret society do, exactly?”

  “I just think it’s a good idea for girls to get together and talk and do things that make us feel sexy and bad,” Jade offered.

  “Like some kind of girl power thing?” Crystal asked skeptically. “Will we have to burn our bras? Because I don’t really need mine anyway.” She giggled, indicating her almost-flat chest.

  “I get what Jade means,” Naomi said, surprising Crystal. Despite her suggestion they return to normal BFF behavior, she’d thought the tension between the two of them was there to stay. “Noelle says that whenever she breaks up with a guy, she has such a strong support system from her friends that it almost doesn’t matter.” Noelle was Naomi’s cool older sister, the one who worked for Elle magazine and whom Crystal was always trying to suck up to, just in case one day Noelle needed to get rid of all the incredible designer clothes in the magazine’s fashion closet. It could happen.

  “What about calling it Café Society?” Crystal asked. “Doesn’t that make it sound like a bunch of girls sitting around drinking and sharing sexcapade stories and advice and complaining together? But, like, in Paris, in the twenties?”

  Jade and Naomi grinned drunkenly at each other, and Crystal definitely felt the ice between them melting. See how great this girl power thing is? she thought, her head beginning to feel quite pleasant and only a little fuzzy.

  “I like it,” Jade said. “We could dress the part—and come here or have mini-salons in our room! Without any of the guys around to bug us.” She tossed her hair and grinned contagiously.

  “Funny how just talking about sex makes you feel sexier, doesn’t it?” Naomi said.

  “Tell us about your sexcapades this summer, Jade. You must have exciting news to report.” Crystal shifted toward Jade. She’d been dying to hear about Jade’s conquests since the moment she reappeared out of nowhere. “Where’d you get the shark tooth?”

  “Oh, Chiedo,” Jade responded dreamily. “He was our guide in South Africa.” She leaned back in the booth and closed her eyes, looking very dramatic. “You wouldn’t believe how sexy he was. He was all muscle, and every time he touched me or even just looked at me, I felt like I was going to explode. He just made me feel so…wild and unrepressed.” She shivered, as if just the memory of him gave her chills. “He was the second one.” She opened one lovely violet eye to gauge their reaction.

  “The second!” Crystal heard herself gasp. She hadn’t even managed to hook up with Zane this summer and he was her boyfriend.

  “Before I met Chiedo, I had this little fling with a Dutch college student in Cape Town. He looked kind of like Jesse Williams but younger and with an accent. But he was nothing compared to Chiedo.”

  Naomi rubbed her hands together. Even though Jade hadn’t exactly said she’d had sex with them, Naomi could only assume. She couldn’t help wondering what was with her, taking so long to lose her virginity, when Jade could do it with two unbearably fine older guys over the course of one summer. If she couldn’t do it with Eric, who could she do it with?

  “Me and Zane never did it. Is that weird?” Crystal asked abruptly.

  “No,” Naomi said, at the same time Jade said, “Yes.” This struck them all as hilarious.

  “What about you, Naomi? If you’re not with Corey, who are you working on?” Jade arched one of her dark eyebrows.

  Naomi felt her face heating up, and she cleared her throat. “You know, I’m sort of taking time off from boys for a while. It gets to be too distracting.”

  “What, are you into girls now?” Jade leaned across the table, her eyes flashing with intensity. “Or men?”

  Naomi looked her in the eye. “We’ll have to see, I guess.” She had no doubt that if Jade found out about her and Eric, she’d find some cute way to drop the bomb in front of the boys, or the entire dining room, or Dean Marymount. Jade was famous for subtly causing the equivalent of a gossip tsunami. “Anyway, I thought Café Society rules said no boyfriends.”

  “Boyfriends are different from men,” Jade said with a yawn, arching her back and stretching like a cat. “Men are encouraged.”

  “Why don’t we go get some pizza?” Crystal interrupted. “I’m starved.” Something about Crystal, whose recent skinniness pointed to a larger problem, saying she was starving immediately humored the two other girls and set them into motion.

  “Of course,” Jade said, finishing her glass of champagne and setting it delicately on the slightly sticky table. “Let’s go.”

  “Colonial?” Naomi said. “Or Ritoli’s?” She could definitely use something to soak up the liquor in her stomach, and both pizza places were right in town.

  “Ritoli’s has more ambiance,” Jade suggested, clearly referring to the Italian boys who worked there. It was a family-run business that had been in downtown Rhinecliff forever and was a favorite with the female population of Bridgeport. There were at least three young men working at all times, all Italian and muscled and adorable.

  “Stupid question,” Naomi said, and the three girls giggled and shuffled out of the hotel, leaving a generous tip for the bartender at their table.

  Naomi didn’t realize how starved she was until they walked into Ritoli’s and the warm rush of doughy air surrounded them.

  “Mmmm,” Jade said, rubbing her stomach. Then she elbowed Naomi in the side at the sight of the handsome boy making his way toward them with menus.

  “What do you guys want on it?” Jade asked.

  “How about him?” Crystal whispered a little too loudly.

  Smooth, Naomi thought.

  “You want to look at the menus or you know what you want?” the boy asked, giving them all a knowing grin. He looked about seventeen, with dark eyes and smooth olive skin and the longest lashes Naomi had ever seen. He even made her forget about Eric Dalton for a few seconds.

  “Three Diet Cokes,” Jade said, giving him her million-watt smile. “But we haven’t decided what else yet.”

  “No problem. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  It was warm inside, and Naomi fanned her face with the menu and remembered how last year, after the first big lacrosse game, she and Corey had met Zane and Crystal and Jade and Maurice here for pizza. They had to order another one because the guys devoured the first so quickly. She and Eric would never be able to hang out with her friends like that, she thought a little sadly.

  But they had something different—it didn’t have to be about eating pizza while the boys tried to flick a pepperoni into each other’s spiked drinks. This would be her first real love affair, with much more at stake. Jade and Crystal chattered on about the rumor that the entire pizza family was extremely well endowed and whether or not they could prove it. Their waiter came back, and Jade put in an order for a deep-dish pie with extra cheese and mushrooms on half.

  “Earth to Naomi.” Jade waved her slender arm in front of Naomi’s face. “Anybody home?”

  Naomi didn’t answer. Her eyes were fixed on the platinum link bracelet on Jade’s right wrist. She stared. Was that...Eric’s? It looked exactly like the one she had noticed him wearing when they went to Newport. The one from his great-great-grandfather. How on eart
h could Jade have it?

  “That’s a cool bracelet,” Naomi remarked, trying to keep her voice an alto although it sprang up to soprano in panic. “Where’d you get it?”

  “Oh, my crazy aunt Elinore gave it to me the last time I saw her,” Jade answered, twisting her wrist to admire the bracelet. “She’s getting a little batty and gives away her shit whenever someone comes into her house. I walked off with this great pearl necklace too.”

  Huh. How likely was it that two incredibly rare and valuable platinum antique bracelets that looked exactly alike would appear in the teeny town of Rhinecliff?

  Pretty unlikely.

  To: EricDalton@Bridgeport.edu

  From: JadeCarmichael@Bridgeport.edu

  Date: Thursday, September 12, 9:43 p.m.

  Subject: Flappers and Philosophers

  Eric,

  It was such a pleasure meeting you this morning; consequently, I read the short story you suggested. I have a sinfully thin flapper dress that’s exactly like something a Fitzgerald heroine would wear…Thought you might enjoy seeing me in it sometime.

  Much as I love being back at good old Bridgeport, sometimes I ache to feel the city pavement pounding beneath my heels again. Ever get the urge to disappear and hole up in a luxurious hotel suite, lounging in bed all afternoon and ordering Dom Pérignon from room service? Thought daydreaming might be another thing we have in common…

  JC

  NaomiPeterson: I just finished a bottle of wine and you know what? I think we’ve gone slow enough. When do I get to see you next?

  EricDalton: Naomi, I’ve been thinking…

  NaomiPeterson: Good things, I hope.

  EricDalton: The thing is, I don’t think this is a good idea anymore—it’s not smart. I’m sorry.

  NaomiPeterson: Excuse me???

  EricDalton: Maybe we should do this face-to-face?

  EricDalton: Naomi, are you still there?

  NaomiPeterson: Is there someone else?

  EricDalton: Of course not. But we need to go back to a purely student-teacher relationship, OK?

  EricDalton: Hello?

  EricDalton: Naomi?

  NaomiPeterson: Yes, sir. I think I understand. Perfectly.

  13

  “I didn’t take the picture, did I? How is this possibly my fault?” Crystal screeched into her cell phone, already tired of having to deal with yet another complaint from Nicholson Adams, her mother’s publicist. Apparently a photo taken of Crystal at a late-summer pool party had shown up in the Weekend section of the Atlanta Journal-Constitution, with the snide caption Governor Alexander's Daughter: Starving for Attention? So what if she’d lost some weight in Barcelona, pining over the disaster that was her relationship with Zane? Who the hell’s business was it, anyway? Not the Journal-Constitution’s and certainly not smarmy Nicholson Adams’.

  Crystal stood in the empty room in her camisole and low-rise boy shorts, the phone having rung when she was about to put on her pajamas. As Nicholson proceeded to lecture her on how an eating disorder would reflect badly on voters’ views of her mother’s family values, she looked at herself in the mirror. She turned to take in her thin body from a variety of angles, but nowhere did she see anything resembling the pin-thin bodies plastered in all the magazines. She certainly wasn’t anorexic or anything—she’d just scarfed down three pieces of gooey Ritoli’s pizza and half a bottle of champagne.

  “Is my mother concerned that her daughter has an eating disorder or that people think her daughter has an eating disorder? If she’s actually concerned about me, tell her that next time she can call herself.”

  She was about to hang up when he said, “Just try to eat something every once in a while, okay?”

  “Eat this!” she screamed before hanging up. Then Naomi walked through the door, looking like she’d witnessed a car crash. She’d gone outside with her cell phone when Nicholson called.

  Crystal pulled on her red satin pajama bottoms. “What’s the matter, sweetheart?” Her voice immediately softened, and she was surprised at how the word “sweetheart” came out of her mouth so effortlessly. In her post-Zane existence, she must be transferring her thwarted affections onto her friends.

  “Eric just IMd me,” Naomi blurted, her voice full of disbelief. “He…he doesn’t think we should see each other anymore.”

  “What?” Crystal grew cold. Shit. This sounded like Jade’s doing. Had she really made a move on Mr. Dalton? Already? “Did he say why?”

  “He said it wasn’t ‘smart.’” Naomi shook her head slightly. “But two days ago he didn’t care if it was smart or not when we were practically naked in his bed.”

  “Did something change that made him realize how much trouble he could get in?” Crystal asked doubtfully. “Maybe he bumped into Marymount and freaked?”

  “Maybe.” Naomi bit her lip and looked like she was about to cry. “But I don’t know. He didn’t say anything about Marymount.”

  Crystal wondered if Naomi had any suspicions that this had something to do with Jade returning, but of course Crystal wasn’t about to say anything. God, why was everything a fucking secret this year? “Well, it was just an IM, right? How much could he say?”

  Naomi stared at Crystal blankly. “But I felt...so close to him. We almost did…it.” At this, Naomi’s knees seemed to collapse under her and she fell dramatically onto her bed. “And then I just told him that I wanted to finally do it for real. And he just wrote back, saying it was over. It makes me feel so…sick and…stupid. Like I was some silly kid and he lost his patience with me.”

  “So fuck him. He’s a jerk anyway,” Crystal gushed heatedly. Of course she desperately wanted to cheer Naomi up, but she also felt a tiny bit relieved not to be the only dumped girl in Dumbarton 303.

  “Who’s a jerk?” Jade demanded, standing in the open door with her iPhone sticking out of the kangaroo pocket of her cutoff sweatshirt.

  No one answered right away, and just as it was about to become awkward, Crystal lamely filled in with, “Nicholson, my mom’s publicist.” If Naomi and Jade didn’t settle their issues soon, she was going to flip out. “Fuck him, telling me I’m too skinny.”

  Jade smiled indulgently. She’d go ahead and pretend she believed that’s what they were talking about if Naomi found it so impossible to speak when she was in the room. Fine. Jade was tired of giving Naomi space for her moods—she could go right ahead and kiss her ass. “You are awfully thin, Crys. Your clothes have been looking kind of baggy.” Which was true.

  Crystal rolled her eyes and shot Naomi a thanks-for-nothing glare when Jade was hanging up her towel, but Naomi was lying on her bed with her taxi-yellow rubber rain boots still on, a single red leaf stuck to the bottom of one, staring straight at the ceiling, clearly in her own depressed world. Crystal wondered what could distract her and immediately thought of Café Society.

  “Where’s the fourth Musketeer?” Jade pointed at Bree’s cot.

  Naomi glanced up disinterestedly. “She’s in Sage and Emily’s room. They have a French test tomorrow.”

  Jade rolled her eyes and flicked on the black stereo that took up one of the window seats. Nicki Minaj came blaring out of the surround-sound speakers, and Jade tweaked the volume a little before flopping down on her stomach next to Crystal. Her short pink polka-dot boxers showed off her long, toned legs. “We have some important business to discuss, girlies. We need to come up with some guidelines for Café Society.”

  “Rules?” Naomi asked, sitting up so that she could check out Jade’s wrist again, but it was now bare. Convenient. Or was she just paranoid? Naomi went to her dresser and pulled from the top drawer her favorite thing to sleep in—one of Corey’s oldest J.Crew button-downs that was as soft as a tissue and so faded you could barely see its blue stripes. She’d slept in it for so long that it would have been weird to return it to him after she broke up with him.

  “More like objectives,” Jade said, rolling onto her back and c
rossing her ankles. “Or goals, if you will.”

  Suddenly Naomi felt like she was at a slumber party with her best friends back in sixth grade. She grabbed her bottle of lotion and perched on the end of Jade’s bed. Her bare legs were shaved smooth in anticipation of an evening with Eric. So she’d wasted her time, but it was still nice to have freshly shaven legs.

  “Number one. No boyfriends,” Naomi said, forcing a smile for Crystal and Jade.

  Jade noted Naomi’s sudden enthusiasm. “Exactly. It is very critical for our growth as young women not to be hampered by whiny, self-involved boyfriends who are just trying to cramp our style.”

  “Two,” Crystal chimed in, her face glowing with interest. “Alcohol should always be involved.”

  “Three.” Jade parted her hair in the middle and smoothed down each half so that she looked like a hippie. “Society members are encouraged to hook up with random, pre-approved gorgeous guys in a non-boyfriend, purely-for-fun sort of way.”

  “What?” Naomi suddenly wondered if this whole project was just another way for Jade to reassert her dominance over everyone. “I thought this was just talking about hooking up.”

  “What fun would that be?” Jade demanded. “But I’m definitely not talking about group sex or anything. Not yet, at least.” She flashed her wicked smile, the one that made you wonder if she was serious about anything at all or if life was just one giant game to her.

  Maybe that’s why Jade never gets her heart broken, Naomi thought. That, and a face that would put a supermodel to shame.

  “So who are these gorgeous guys?” Crystal asked, rubbing chapstick on her lips and handing it to Naomi.

  “Whoever we want them to be.” Jade spread her hands out as if to indicate that these gorgeous guys were right there in front of them, just waiting to be chosen.

  “Damien Sanchez,” Crystal suggested. “He’s sexy.” Crystal liked to think of herself as a good matchmaker, having put together and dismantled many of Bridgeport’s notorious couplings due to behind-the-scenes manipulations. And while she was certain Damien and Naomi would get along beautifully—they were both arty and moody—Damien was so fine, Crystal wouldn’t mind getting her lips on him either.