“Nah. He’s busy partying. I don’t want to bug him.” Naomi poured the last trickle of cranberry juice into her mug. “Besides, I broke up with him. I can’t just run back to him the second I change my mind.” Her lips formed a delicate pout.
“Do we have another bottle of cranberry juice in the room? I thought I saw one,” Bree asked absently, an idea slowly forming in her vodka-tinged brain.
“All right, lazybones. I’ll go get it.” Naomi swung her legs to the floor a little sloppily and heaved herself onto her feet. “I wanted to get a sweater anyway.”
As soon as Naomi left the room, Bree grabbed her friend’s phone and scrolled through it for Corey’s number. Her heart was pounding in her ears, and she knew Naomi would be furious with her, but what kind of friend would she be if she wasn’t willing to risk pissing Naomi off for her own good?
Corey’s voicemail picked up after only two rings, and Bree almost forgot what she was going to say. “Hi, uh, Corey. This is, um, Bree, a friend of Naomi’s. I’m sorry to call you—I really hope I’m not bothering you. But I just wanted to let you know that Naomi’s been thinking about you, like, all the time, and she knows she made a huge mistake and she wants to ask you to forgive her, but she’s too afraid to. I mean, she’s totally in love with you, and I totally know because…” Bree took a giant gulp of air. Was she making any sense at all? “Because I’m in love with someone too. And so I know what it looks like, and she’s got it bad…And people who are in love really shouldn’t let misunderstandings come between them.”
Naomi came back into the room to find Bree using her phone. “What are you doing?” she shrieked, dropping the plastic liter bottle of cranberry juice and grabbing at the phone. “Are you crazy?”
Bree danced away from Naomi and tried to hurriedly finish the call. “So, all I’m saying is that you shouldn’t let unimportant things get in the way of you being happy. Really. So, um, I’m going to go because Naomi’s going to kill me. But nice talking to you.” She clicked off the phone and tossed it to Naomi, who was just standing there with a horrified expression on her face.
“I can’t believe you did that!”
“Are you going to kill me?”
Naomi thought about it. “Who would I have to talk to then?” A slow, sheepish grin spread across her pretty face. “I just can’t believe you did that!”
Bree smiled, proud that she’d taken the initiative. If Naomi was so bent out of shape over Corey, it meant she belonged with him, right? And if she felt the same way about Zane, it meant they belonged together too. Right? She blew Naomi a kiss. “Maybe you’ll return the favor one day.”
33
After a few joints were passed around out on the balcony, the party took a turn toward the lethargic. Sleepy, satisfied bodies were draped in various states of relaxation across the expensive furniture. “Why does everyone have to act like a zombie after they smoke?” Jade demanded of Zane, who was slouched in a corner of the couch, lifelessly flicking through the cable channels. She tapped the toe of her Kate Spade satin-toed pump against his shin. “Hello?”
“Why don’t you do something to liven up the party for us, J?” Maurice came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her. His whiskey breath stung her nose.
“That sounds like a dare.” Jade flicked Maurice’s arms off her and strode across the room. If anyone loved a dare, she did.
First, off with the television. Jade poked the power button and South Park disappeared. Then she twirled the volume dial on the stereo and “Ritz Carlton” by Plies flooded the room. She narrowed her eyes as she watched everyone watching her—this was what she was waiting for. In one smooth motion, she hopped up onto the tall, mahogany desk against the wall of the living room. A large, gilded mirror hung behind it, and everyone stared as both Jade and her image started to swing her hips in sync to the heavy, pulsing beat. She fingered the plunging neckline of her jacket, her hand slowing as she neared the top button. Her thumb pushed it through the buttonhole.
Jade grinned. Suddenly it was a party again.
“Take it off!” Ryan Reynolds cried out drunkenly, leaping up from the armchair he was sharing with Celine while trying to slide his hands up her skirt. Celine glared at him. He didn’t notice.
Jade smiled devilishly and tossed her long mane of silky black hair. With excruciating slowness, she played with the second button, torturing her captive audience as long as she could before sliding it through its buttonhole. Her violet eyes stared down Maurice across the room, and he lifted his head from Sage Francis’s lap, where she’d been massaging his scalp. He clapped and hooted as Jade suddenly pulled her jacket down to reveal one bare shoulder.
Crystal poured herself another glass of wine at the bar, irritated by Jade’s antics. Did she always have to be the center of everything? She took a big gulp and looked around for Zane—she couldn’t help it; she’d been doing it all night. Watching him out of the corner of her eye, counting how many girls he was talking to. It was pathetic, and she knew it.
But when she saw his eyes tracing the movements of Jade’s body, she’d had enough.
“Help me up,” Crystal demanded as she slipped off her jeweled Jimmy Choos and took Jade’s hand. “Oof.”
“You’re killing me!” Donovan crawled on his knees over to the desk and bowed several times to the two girls, as if they were some sacred altar.
“Hey, baby.” Jade pushed Crystal’s hair back behind her ear and whispered in it, “Work it.” Jade stepped back and casually slid her jacket off to her elbows, revealing a sheer black bra, with strategically placed lacy embroidery to keep it from being entirely see-through. She tossed back her head and gave a throaty laugh that seemed to say she was perfectly comfortable dirty dancing on top of a bureau at the Ritz with her top off.
Crystal wanted—no, needed—to be that carefree. And so it seemed like a good idea to slip first one spaghetti strap, then the other, off her shoulders and start to shimmy out of her red slip dress. She glanced at Zane, but he was no longer on the couch. In fact, he wasn’t even in the room. What did she have to do to get his attention, damn it!
“What are you doing?” A face separated itself from the crowd. Amir. He reached up to pull Crystal down. She danced backward, out of his reach.
“I’m dancing, Amir.” She put her arm around Jade’s waist, and the two of them moved their hips together. Maybe Zane would walk back in?
Maurice, wearing Zane’s fedora and a white terry-cloth robe, came up behind Amir and tried to pull him away. “Dude, you’re ruining a good thing.”
Amir pushed him away. “You’re drunk, Crystal. Please, just…just come to our room.”
“Amir!” Crystal shrieked, whirling around so fast she almost slid off the desk. “It’s your room, not our room. Why don’t you just go watch a gay porno on pay-per-view or something?” She glared at him before turning back to Jade, still dancing with a smirk on her face. “At least Maurice is fun,” she whispered to Jade, loud enough for Amir to hear.
“Fine. Make a fool of yourself.” Amir shoved Maurice away from him and stomped out the door. It looked like he was going to have more champagne and more chocolate-covered strawberries for himself.
34
“Taylor.” Corey grabbed Zane’s arm as it reached for the almost-empty bottle of Jack Daniels. “You’d better slow down. You are wrecked.”
Zane had stumbled over to the makeshift bar as soon as the girls had hopped onto the desk. Sure, he enjoyed a good show as much as anyone else, but ever since realizing Jade had tried to get him kicked out of Bridgeport, everything about her seemed so calculated. Yeah, she was gorgeous and exotic and exciting, but she was also a giant bitch. And Zane didn’t have time for that. Besides, the way Crystal fell all over herself trying to keep up with Jade made him a little sick. Why’d she even give a shit about what other people thought of her? That was one of the things about Crystal that had always driven him insane. “Thanks, bro, but I’m good.” The
bottle clanked against his glass, and the rest of the liquid splashed against his melting ice cubes.
“I’ve got something that’ll make you feel even better.” Corey had a weird smile on his face, like he’d just discovered Nicki Minaj naked in one of the suite’s many closets.
“I don’t really want to smoke, dude.” Zane had dragged himself to Boston even though he wasn’t in a partying mood. All he’d wanted to do tonight was bring a couple of blankets out to the clearing in the woods and curl up with Bree, watching the stars. But he was too proud to stay home from Boston after what Bree had done.
“No weed.” Corey pulled his black iPhone from the pocket of his jeans. “I just got this really sexy message on my voicemail about how much Naomi is in love with me.”
“That’s awesome, bro.” Zane threw back his glass of rum. “Good for you.”
“No, good for you too.” Corey patted Zane on the back. “It was from that girl, Bree. And she said some other pretty interesting stuff too. You’ve got to listen.” He punched some numbers into his phone and handed it to Zane.
Zane held it to his ear and let Bree’s warm, slightly drunk voice sweep over him like the best kind of drug. “Because I’m in love with someone too,” he heard her say, and suddenly his anger disappeared. All he wanted was to be holding her as she was saying that.
“Nice, isn’t it?” Corey nudged Zane in the ribs.
Zane stared at the wallpaper in a daze. What was he doing here, at the stupid Ritz in Boston? He wasn’t interested in watching Maurice get naked with the girls. The only girl he wanted to get naked with was back at Bridgeport. “Are you okay to drive?”
Corey grinned. “Great minds think alike.” He patted the pocket of his velvet blazer, and his keys clinked inside. “I wasn’t drinking tonight. Are you ready to get the hell outta here?”
“I’m already gone.”
35
Crystal awoke with a start. She’d fallen into a drunken half sleep and had one of those intense dreams that was so vivid, so exact that it felt completely real. She was lying beneath her double-cashmere blanket with Zane, both of them in their underwear, and his fingertips were running up and down her bare stomach, sending chills down her spine. He smelled exactly like he always smelled, like horses and hay and cigarettes, and when he kissed her, Crystal could swear his lips were actually on hers at that very moment.
Except it wasn’t Zane kissing her. It was Maurice Johnson. “Wake up, sleeping beauty.”
Crystal pulled away from him and wiped the back of her hand across her mouth. Tears almost sprang to her eyes when she realized Zane wasn’t here and that they weren’t in her bed. Her half-dressed body was splayed against the velvety hotel couch. The coffee table in front of her was cluttered with empty wineglasses and crumpled napkins. A pair of gray Ralph Lauren boxer briefs were crumpled on the table. Someone on the couch was braiding her hair. She looked up. Jade. “Don’t pass out again.”
Crystal surveyed the room. No one else was even awake or, at least, moving. Benny Cunningham was lying facedown on the Oriental rug, her skirt pulled up to reveal her red thong. She’d be mortified if she were conscious. For a moment, Crystal thought about taking a photo with her camera, but she had no idea where she’d left it. And besides, Maurice now had his tongue in her ear.
“Get off me, Maurice.” Crystal tried to stand up, but her legs weren’t working correctly and she sank back to the floor.
“You’ve already forgotten the rule?” Maurice asked drowsily. “It’s be-nice-to-Maurice time.”
“Come on.” Jade climbed onto Maurice’s lap. “He’s the only one who made it through our party conscious. We have to reward him.”
“Oh, yes, yes.” Maurice sighed. “Reward me. Please.”
Crystal grabbed at one of the glasses that still had an inch of wine in it. She swallowed it quickly. What would her mother think if she saw her now, drinking someone else’s probably back-washed glass of wine, about to hook up with the sluttiest guy at Bridgeport in a trashed suite at the Boston Ritz? She’d have a heart attack. That almost made it all bearable.
Jade giggled and slowly rose from Maurice’s lap. She shook out her mane of dark hair and looked impatiently down at him.
“Let’s go out on the balcony,” Maurice suggested, a wicked, drunken grin on his lips. “The sun’s going to come up soon. You can see it rise over Boston Harbor.” On his way toward the sliding glass door, he grabbed the velour blanket that was covering the bodies of Ryan and Alison on the floor. They were both snoring. “We might need this.”
“We won’t need this,” Jade said as she slid the bathrobe off her shoulders and scampered over to the door, wearing only her bra and panties. She dropped it over the still-sleeping Ryan and Alison. “Actually, I think the balcony is a no-clothing-allowed area, so if you’re coming, you’d better change.” She grinned at Crystal pointedly.
Crystal quickly swallowed some more wine. Let Jade show her up? Not this time. What did she care, anyway? Zane was nowhere in sight and hadn’t been for the past few hours, what little Crystal could remember of them. She felt completely lost, like everything in the entire world was upside down, and so who cared if she made one more giant mistake? It was almost soothing to know she was taking an active part in destroying her own life instead of just letting it happen.
“Meet you out there.” With that, she pulled her red dress over her head and walked out to the balcony, not about to let Jade win. At least, not this time.
36
Bree opened her eyes at the sound of voices. She’d been having a nightmare, one of those awful ones where you got all the way to class before realizing that you were completely naked. In the dream, everyone in the classroom—Mr. Wilde’s AP American History classroom—was coming up to Bree and poking at her and trying to give her messy, wet kisses. Only Zane, sitting by himself at a desk in the corner, wasn’t paying attention to her. He was drawing a picture of a beautiful girl—when Bree squinted to get a better look, she saw it was Jade.
But now she was awake. And there were definitely voices. She blinked a few times, trying to get her eyes to adjust to the dark, and could make out a figure climbing into Naomi’s bed. A peal of giggles filled the dark room, and Bree, still groggy with sleep and vodka, remembered the last time she’d been awakened in the middle of the night by a boy climbing into her roommate’s bed. Her whole body remembered how Zane had ended up sitting on her bed, rubbing her back. Her stomach felt sick with longing.
What was going on? “Corey!” she heard Naomi whisper happily. “When did you guys get back?”
You guys? Bree’s heart started to beat faster as she tried to understand what was happening. Did that mean…
“Hey.” Someone crouched down near Bree’s head. It was Zane.
“How did you…” Bree shot up in bed, feeling a little too skimpily dressed in her black tank and matching boy shorts. “What happened to the Ritz?”
Zane shifted his lanky body onto Bree’s bed. Was this really happening? Was she getting a second chance? He reached for her hair and tucked it behind her ear. “The Ritz is way overrated.”
If Bree was a cat, she would have purred. “Oh.”
He cleared his throat. “Truth is, I realized it wasn’t where I really wanted to be.”
Bree swallowed. Was her breath okay? Did she smell?
Zane grinned. “Come on, let’s get out of here. I want to show you something.”
Bree tossed off her blankets and hopped out of bed, feeling Zane’s eyes watching her body. Instead of feeling nervous, it just made her feel…warm. “Remember what happened last time you were in this room?”
“How could I forget?”
After pulling on the first pair of pants she found—her stretchy jeans—and her cinnamon-colored sweater coat from H&M, Bree let Zane grab her hand and lead her toward the door. She didn’t ask where they were going—it didn’t matter. Naomi and Corey, snuggled under Naomi’s thick down com
forter, were in their own world.
“Are you cold?” Zane asked when the two of them were sitting on top of the bluffs, overlooking the slow-moving Hudson. The sky was lightening to a smoky gray, and Zane wanted to watch the sun rise. He put his arm around her shoulders.
“No.” She leaned her head into Zane’s neck, breathing in his smell.
One hand tightened around her, and his other one pulled a cigarette away from his mouth. He had lit it a few minutes ago, his fingers trembling a little. Like he was nervous, Bree thought in amazement.
She looked up at him. “About that other stuff…”
Zane shook his head. “I overreacted.” He took a drag from the cigarette and leaned back on the grass, looking straight up at the disappearing stars in the sky. “You were just having fun with your friends. It’s okay.”
“No.” Bree shook her head. She tugged at a lint ball forming on her sweater. “I mean, yeah. But…I would have been totally crushed if I’d heard about you, you know, kissing someone else.” She sighed and felt herself wanting to be completely honest with Zane, even if it meant looking uncool or childish. “I just—wanted to belong, and I got swept up in doing what all the cool girls were doing.”
“They’ve got nothing on you. Seriously.”
Birds were starting to chirp, and it felt like the whole world was waking up, even though the sun still hadn’t appeared over the horizon. She glanced up at Zane and took a deep breath. “I’ve never felt like this before.”
Zane stubbed his cigarette into the dewy grass next to him and pulled Bree down on top of him. His dark eyes looked almost black in the darkness. He nodded slowly and swallowed noisily like something was caught in his throat. “I know.”
Bridgeport Academy #2 Page 18