Heath glowered, still pissed about Jenny's impromptu revenge cheer about his body parts at homecoming last month. He grabbed the rope from Alan's hand and swung it around in front of him like a lasso. “You can't believe everything you hear, dickwad. You'll probably be too busy trying to get into Callie's pants tonight to notice, but I'm going to be the belle of the fucking ball. Again.”
At the mention of Callie's name, Brandon felt nothing—something that, in itself, was monumental. His heart didn't beat faster, he didn't start picturing her in her white Shoshanna bikini with the tiny little cherries on it, he didn't start wondering what guy might be drooling over her at the moment. It was pretty fucking amazing.
And terrifying. Because it was Tinsley he was picturing in that bikini.
“Uh, yeah, whatever.” Brandon tried to clear his thoughts, but suddenly they were filled with images of Tinsley. He had been thinking about her a lot since dinner last night, but so far he'd managed to convince himself that he was just shocked to see her behave like a normal, albeit ridiculously flirty, human being. But now that they were getting closer to Dumbarton, he realized that he was kind of excited to see Tinsley again. Maybe he'd been wrong about her. Maybe she wasn't evil but just … um … misunderstood?
“Baby doll! Are you still not over that girl yet?” Heath trilled, unable to let the Callie thing go. He probably didn't ever want Brandon to get over her because then he'd have to find some new material.
“Get off his back,” Easy called over his shoulder as he led the way up front with Julian. “It's not his fault. Callie's a great girl. She'd make a lasting impression on any guy.”
Collectively the boys dropped their mouths. She'd make a lasting impression on any guy? Like, Easy? Brandon couldn't help being irritated with Easy, not only for pseudo–standing up for him—no, thanks, dude—but for waxing sentimental about Callie. Maybe it was just paranoid-jealous Brandon returning, but it sounded like Easy was still into her.
Which pissed Brandon off to no end. First Easy breaks Callie's heart—now he was going to do the same to poor, sweet Jenny? Jenny, who was unbelievable—who was almost perfect in every way except for her exceedingly poor taste in guys. Admittedly, the image of her nearly busting the seams of that cherry bikini top had also played a part in a few of Brandon's daydreams.
“Wait wait wait wait wait wait waiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit a second, cowboy.” Heath stepped in front of Easy and put a hand on his chest. “Aren't you supposed to be with little Miss Bouncy right now? Isn't she supposed to be the one making impressions on you?” He made a lewd gesture of pressing his chest into Easy's body.
“Get off me, jackass.” Easy slapped Heath's hand away. The two of them stared each other down.
But thankfully, before there could be a lot of macho shoving and shouting, a loud thumping noise came from up ahead. “Guys,” Julian called back. “This is it.” Immediately everyone crowded around him, their flashlights focused on a small door-knob. Above it, in unmistakable lettering, was the word Dumbarton. Julian turned the knob and pushed.
Nothing happened.
He turned and pushed again; this time Heath slammed his body against the door too. It flew open, sending both of them tumbling out, knocking over a bucket and mop.
Julian gazed up at the ceiling, and everyone was silent as they listened to the sound of “Like a Prayer” coming from somewhere above their heads. “Holy mother.” He stood up and adjusted himself. “We're here.”
Heath Ferro held up his compass. “Let me get my bearings,” he said, sniffing the air. “The beer is … this way!” He pointed toward the door out of the storage closet—the only door.
“Nice work, Nancy Drew.” Brandon rolled his eyes. “Let's go.”
To:[email protected]
From:[email protected]
Date:Saturday, October 5, 8:00 p.m.
Subject:Rock on
As much as it sucked being cooped up all day long today, I am SO happy that us girls are bonding the way we should be, and it is totally unfair that we are being punished for it. A responsible Owl works hard to establish and preserve friendships with fellow students. I mean, there are schools that don't even allow boys at all because they so value female connection, and here we are just trying to hang out with our girls and we're getting, like, imprisoned for it! But like I said, I'm just happy we got time together. Can't wait for tonight!
Lovin' my sisters,
Yvonne
BennyCunningham:At long last, the boys have arrived! Where are you, baby?
CallieVernon:I'm on the roof, smoking cloves … . R all the boys there?
BennyCunningham:U mean, is EZ here?
CallieVernon:That's not what I meant. But is he?
BennyCunningham:Yup. And looking reeeeeeeeeeeally cute.
CalleVernon:Great.
BennyCunningham:If your ass isn't down here in three minutes, I'll drag it down!
VerenaArneval:Chica, where are you?
JennyHumphrey:Just sending an email to my dad … I'll be down soon.
VerenaArneval:Your father surely doesn't expect you to write when there's a party heating up.
JennyHumphrey:I'm sure he'd be quite happy to have me staying in my room all night.
VerenaArneval:Not when there's a certain tall, dark, and handsome cowboy looking for you …
JennyHumphrey:Sold! I'll be down in two minutes.
VerenaArneval:Hurry, or I might jump him myself!
19
A WAVERLY OWL KNOWS HOW TO TAKE CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM.
In a well-intentioned but probably not all that convincing move, the girls of Dumbarton had decided to spread all their textbooks and notebooks around the downstairs common room just in case Angelica Pardee or some other authority figure happened to peek in. In a way, it was more exciting for the boys to see the girls' dorm as it might be any day of the week, not all fancied up. It made it seem more intimate. Easy could imagine Jenny lying on the couch, doing her algebra homework, her little pink sneakers dangling off the edge.
But chasing that image out of his mind was one of Callie, sitting in that window seat, staring at the copy of Vogue that she had tucked in the pages of her history book.
What was his problem? Why couldn't he get his feelings about these two girls straight in his mind? It wasn't fair to anyone to keep thinking this way about both of them, but he couldn't help it. It was like choosing between Mandy Moore and Lindsay Lohan—he thought he'd made his choice. It was Mandy all the way—if only he could stop thinking about Lindsay.
“Took you guys long enough.” Alison Quentin stood in the doorway to the common room, hands on her hips, wearing a simple white tank top with a pair of skinny black cigarette pants and a pair of red skimmers. She looked a little like an Asian Audrey Hepburn. Easy glanced at his roommate Alan, who had an enormous crush on her.
“Did you miss us, honey?” Alan St. Girard grabbed Alison by the waist and spun her around. She giggled but didn't fight it, and the two of them danced down the hallway.
“Kegs are this way,” she called over her shoulder.
Easy spotted a box of pizza lying open on the coffee table and grabbed a slice. A few girls he didn't recognize were playing a game of Twister in the corner, and he was sort of impressed. Most of the time, Twister was just an excuse to grope members of the opposite sex. Good for them. Chewing his slice of cold mushroom-and-olive pizza, he headed up the stairs. Even though boys were banned from girls' dorms, except for the common areas in the brief period between sports practice and dinner, Easy knew his way to room 303 blindfolded.
He paused at the door, not sure who he was going to find inside. And not sure who he was hoping to. He knocked gently and pushed open the door.
Miles Davis's “Kind of Blue” was playing, and Jenny was sitting at her desk, typing away at her laptop. He watched her for a moment and listened to the sound of keys clicking. She looked so pretty, her dark brown curls tumbling down over her back. He tried to snea
k over and surprise her, but the floor creaked beneath his Converse high-tops and Jenny whirled around. “You're here!” she cried, her small face breaking out into an enormous smile. “Why didn't you say something?” She quickly sprang out of her chair and walked over to him, looking totally hot in a dark brown strapless dress that matched her eyes and looked like something you'd throw on over a bikini. And she was barefoot. Mmm …
Without a word, Easy slid his hand behind her neck and leaned in to kiss her. His heart was thumping so wildly he thought maybe she could hear it, and he suddenly realized it was Jenny he wanted to See. And to kiss. Her little round shoulders looked practically edible.
“Wow,” Jenny whispered softly after they pulled apart. “What did I do to deserve that?”
Easy flopped down on her bed and stared up at her wide brown eyes that reminded him of the double-fudge brownies his mother would always make for his birthday or whenever he was sick. Jenny looked like she should be running barefoot down the beach, maybe throwing a Frisbee to Easy, a giant black Labrador retriever chasing along after them in the surf. Maybe part of the problem was that he was always having these fantasies—if he could just stay in the moment, maybe he'd be able to figure out what it was that he wanted.
“Just for being you.” Easy folded her pillow in half and placed it under his head, enjoying the orangy smell of the stuff she and Brett put in their hair.
“You're in a good mood.” Jenny bounced down on the bed beside him.
“Yeah, well … it was kind of an adrenaline rush to sneak in like that.” Not to mention seeing you, Easy thought.
Her eyes widened. “You didn't, like, parachute in or anything? Did you?”
“No.” Easy stroked Jenny's bare arm, the tiny blond hairs almost invisible. “There are these tunnels. Under the campus.”
“Like … sewers?” Jenny asked, leaning away from him as if he smelled. Which he was pretty sure he didn't.
“No, dummy.” Easy grabbed her arm and started planting kisses at her wrist and moving up to her elbow. “They built them in the old days, when students were too chickenshit to walk outside in the snow.” Jenny had gorgeous arms—they were tiny because she was tiny but not scrawny and malnourished like Callie's.
“Really? Sort of like subway tunnels.” Jenny shivered a little—either from Easy's touch or from being cold. “Did you see any rats?” Or from thinking about rats.
“No rats.” Just a couple of jackasses, he thought, remembering how he'd almost punched Heath. Easy was normally a complete pacifist, but Heath, with all his insinuations about Callie, had been even more obnoxious than usual.
Or maybe it was because … No, couldn't be.
Jenny glanced down at Easy, her smile shy, her pearly white teeth peeking out from behind her ruby lips just a little. “It's nice to have you here… . I spent like five hours finishing this annoying algebra problem set. If I have to factor one more trinomial, I might kill someone.”
Um, schoolwork. Right. Easy closed his eyes. “Yeah, well, I spent all day avoiding this fucking annoying history assignment Wilde gave me yesterday.” Friday morning, Mr. Wilde had sent him an email sharing his less-than-stellar grade on Thursday's test. In fact, he'd flunked it, as predicted. But because Mr. Wilde was one of those stand-up kind of teachers, he'd offered Easy the chance to do a makeup writing assignment over the weekend. He was supposed to write a five-page fictional interview between a news reporter and General George Washington about why he would make an excellent first president of the new country. It was nice of Wilde to give him a second chance and all, but did he have to make it such a cheesy assignment? That was even worse than a regular old boring one.
He rubbed his hand over his eyes and thought of all the hours he had wasted with Alan playing Xbox—like, four. And he'd stayed up late last night working on a series of caricatures he was hoping to work into a big project for his portraiture class, which wasn't actually due until the end of the semester. There were a billion other things he could have—should have—been doing.
“When's it due?” Jenny asked sympathetically, touching one of the curls near Easy's left ear.
“Monday.”
“Why's he giving you so little time for it?” Jenny's eyes widened. “Doesn't he know you have other homework too?”
“Well …” Easy started. “It's sort of a makeup assignment—I kind of failed this big test on Thursday.”
“Oh, no.” Jenny looked more upset than if she had failed the test, which was kind of sweet. “That sucks.”
“Whatever. I'll just whip out some crap tomorrow night. I don't really want to think about it.”
Jenny bit her lip, looking worried. “You didn't have to sneak in tonight, you know. We could have seen each other some other time.”
Easy was a little hurt. “You didn't want me to come?”
“No!” Jenny placed a small hand on Easy's chest. He could almost feel its warmth through the peeling Chicago Cubs logo. He wondered if she liked going to baseball games—if she'd share a ballpark hot dog with him and not stress about how many calories were in it. “That's not what I meant. I just … you know.” She shrugged. “You're still on probation from the beginning of the year and everything. I don't want you to get in any more trouble.”
Easy tried to smile, but he felt the little hairs on the back of his neck stand up straight. Even though Jenny wasn't saying anything that wasn't true or that he hadn't already thought of, it just sounded sort of … irritating. Like his father had somehow enlisted his girlfriend to continue his good work, like he'd asked her to keep an eye out for him. Which, however well intentioned that might be, made him feel smothered.
She didn't want him to get into any more trouble, which was nice. But didn't she ever take risks? What if someday Easy wanted to go, say, skydiving? It was something he had always dreamed about—flying through the air! Would Jenny try to talk him out of it or would she strap on a parachute and jump out of the plane holding his hand? He couldn't help wondering if Callie would be up for it. She was a debutante and all and would probably worry about how her hair would look at fifteen thousand feet, but then again, she did have a wild (and some what self-destructive) streak.
“I appreciate that… .” But … how could he say this nicely? “You know, at dinner with my dad,” and Callie, he was careful NOT to add, “he just loved talking about all the things I do wrong. So, I sort of don't want to think about it anymore.”
Jenny bit her lip. “He's really that hard on you, huh?”
Easy felt himself melting. “Well, it's not like he ever beat me or anything.” His mouth twisted into a smile. “So it could be worse. But really, let's talk about something interesting.”
“All right.” Jenny grinned, and Easy realized he didn't even know if she'd ever had braces. Or pets. Or imaginary friends. He wished there was a way to pause things—make everything in the world stop moving except for the two of them and just lie down together. And talk or not talk. Whatever. They just needed to get to know each other a little better. “So how did you guys get into the tunnels? If people don't use them any-more, aren't they, like, boarded up?”
“I don't know if I'm allowed to reveal our secrets.” He stroked his chin like he was deeply conflicted about telling her any more. “But maybe I could be bribed.”
“Bribed?” Jenny wrinkled her nose, making the spray of little freckles dance. “I'm afraid I don't have any money.”
“That's not a problem.” Easy sat up and leaned on his elbow, looking up at her. “There are other ways.” As always, he was thinking too much. Maybe he was schizophrenic or something. He tried to ignore the feeling of unease in his stomach and just enjoy the moment. He was here, with Jenny, whose hair was falling into her face as she leaned in to touch her lips to his. He didn't feel like talking anymore.
She pulled away a little quickly after the kiss, almost as if she knew something about it wasn't right. “Why don't I go down and get us a couple of drinks?” She stood up, tugging at the h
em of her dress and sliding into a pair of red flip-flops.
“Uh, yeah.” Easy flopped back against her pillow and smiled weakly. “That sounds good.”
“Okay.” She gave him a searching look, and for a moment he wanted to pull her to him and tell her about dinner last night and let her know every single crazy thought that was running through his mind, knowing that she'd put him at ease. But he didn't even know if he'd be able to vocalize them. He wasn't even sure what he was feeling himself; how could he talk about it? And so he just smiled, and Jenny smiled and left the room, and he closed his eyes and wondered if Callie's pillow still smelled the same as he remembered.
20
A WAVERLY OWL KNOWS THAT TIME DOES NOT HEAL ALL WOUNDS
Jenny started down the wide marble stairs toward Kara's first-floor room, her red J.Crew flip-flops thwacking loudly against the bottoms of her feet. She was feeling a little dazed about what had just happened with Easy—not that she had any idea what had just happened. But for the first time since she'd met him, something just seemed to be off. Things were normal at first, but then, all of a sudden, it was like some how they weren't speaking the same language or like every-thing she tried to say just ended up coming out all wrong. It made her nervous.
She was relieved to be out of the room. Maybe she just needed a beer. Jenny didn't exactly like beer—did anyone?—but having one always helped her feel less awkward. And right now, she was positively craving one.
On the first floor, the music was playing at a reasonable volume, one that would not attract the attention of any teacher or other authority figure that happened to pass. Not like the notorious roof party. Apparently a responsible Owl learns from her mistakes. Sort of. She passed Brett's closed door and heard some soft music playing. At least someone was getting some quality cuddle time!
Just as Jenny approached Kara's doorway, a girl passed through the front hallway that Jenny knew for sure she had never seen before. Her short dark blond hair was pulled back into a ponytail, revealing a black underside—a look more at home on the sidewalks around Union Square than at Waverly Academy. She seemed older too, wearing a long dark skirt and a fitted leather jacket—uh-oh! Was she a new teacher? Some kind of grad student Marymount had hired to infiltrate the dorm? Jenny heard a flutter of activity and a rash of slammed doors—clearly others had spotted the stranger in their midstoo. Kara came rushing around the corner, eyes flashing. “Quick, in here.” She pulled Jenny into her room and slammed the door behind them.
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