Days Of St Croix

by Felicity Pepper

Four

  The tall, intricate wrought iron entrance gates of St Croix loomed at the end of the driveway, and just as it had at the start of the previous year, it gave Brand a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

  "Party's over, guys." He announced, glumly, from the back seat of the black limo. He was sitting across from Tibby, Jas and Mills in his family's chauffeured car. The driver was partially concealed behind a dark glass panel but Brand knew him well; Arthur had been driving the Brandeis family for twenty years, and he was one of the most trusted members of his parents' staff.

  "Fuck that! Party's just starting!" Laughed Jas. He enjoyed school - the social part, at least. For some people, boarding school was like a prison, but Jas didn't think so. He had his friends around him all the time. What could be better than that? He was popular, handsome and rich. If he wanted to, he could rule the school. But that would take too much effort, and Jas wasn't interested in politics or power. He wanted to experience everything to the extreme. He loved pleasure, and the flip-side, risk. For Jas, risk was pleasure, and without it, life was gray and dull.

  Mills squeezed his hand as she sat beside him in the comfortable leather seat. She had cuddled up next to him for the entire ride, resting her hand on his thigh. He had seemed a teeny bit distracted as they drove back to school but she hardly noticed; it was so nice to be back by his side, holding his hand. It made her slightly breathless to realize how much she had missed him.

  "Yeah, I'm pretty excited to be back, actually." Sometimes she found herself agreeing with Jas without even realizing it. If she was honest, she didn't love St Croix as much as her boyfriend seemed to, but it had to be better than the weeks of loneliness she had just spent with her father on Fire Island. Tibby was disgusted.

  "You're excited? How can this be exciting? It's school. Three months of homework, bad food, rain, senior bitches and the ugliest uniform ever."

  "Hey don't hate on the uniform." Brand burst out. He and Jas grinned at each other. "Ours might be boring, but yours is smoking!"

  The girls couldn't help smiling, too. St Croix forced its female students into classic sexual fantasy outfits: pleated navy skirts, cream tights, mary janes, white blouses and tiny blazers. And it got even better on special occasions when they paraded around in berets and plaid scarves. The girls might have complained out loud, but they were well aware of the sex-kitten potential that their school uniform held. A little creative adjustment of the skirt height and an extra button undone on a blouse made all the difference, as long as the senior mistress didn't catch you.

  "This year should be a blast." Jas predicted, reaching for the door handle as the car pulled up outside the school.

  Yeah, it should be a blast. So why did Brand feel like blowing his brains out?

  "You must be happy to see Jas again, huh?" Tibby was standing in front of the mirror in the bathroom she shared with Mills. They had requested adjoining rooms for their sophomore year, and now they could visit each other via the Jack-and-Jill doors on either side. The bathroom was small, but it had a shower, bathtub, two sinks and a floor-to-ceiling mirror. Both girls were used to better at home, but you had to admit it was pretty swank for a boarding school.

  "He's looking good, don't you think?" Mills was perched on the edge of the bath, rubbing moisturizer between her toes. All those long walks on the beach without shoes had exfoliated her petite feet beautifully, but they were drier than hell and she didn't intend to let anyone see them like that. The moisturizer filled the little room with a sweet apricot smell.

  Tibby didn't really know what to say. Jas was looking good, but she wasn't sure she wanted Mills to know that she thought that. She decided to ignore the question. Smart move. Mills was clearly thinking out loud.

  "I wonder when we'll get the time to be alone now. I'm seriously horny for him after three months!"

  Tibby raised her eyebrows. It wasn't like Mills to be so forward.

  "So, how far have you gone with him, anyway?" She asked, examining a tiny mole on her right temple.

  "We were pretty full-on before summer break, actually. He had his hands up here," she pulled on her t-shirt, "and I had my hand down there." She giggled. Tibby turned around,

  "And?"

  "That's about it. He's pretty relaxed, for a teenage boy!" She laughed. Not that she had any experience with anyone older, but the other guys she had dated up until then had been all about going further. She never had, though. She wanted to wait until it was the right person. And now she was with Jas, she was pretty sure he was that person.

  "No kidding. That's restraint. You sure he's not gay?" Tibby tried to banish the image of Mills and Jas fooling around from her imagination. "I mean, Milly, have you seen you? You're gorgeous!"

  Mills blushed. She loved her girlfriend.

  "Oh, I'm pretty damn sure. There was definitely some action down there." They both laughed. "But you know, we only got together a few weeks before the end of last term, and, like, when were we going to get a chance to go further? You know what this place is like - privacy doesn't exist, and I'm not about to get naked in a stairwell. I want us to take our time" She got up from the bath and grabbed a toothbrush off the sink. "Anyway, what about you? Did you meet anyone in France? You'd better not be keeping anything from me!"

  Tibby shrugged. There had been plenty of flesh to pick from in France; on the beaches, in the cafes, bars and clubs, but Tibby wasn't interested in teenage boys, and French teenage boys even less so. She found everything about them annoying. The way they traveled around in packs, on their motor scooters, and whispered to each other, nudging and punching each other on the arm. They wore too much product in their hair, and they didn't smell good. In short, they weren't sophisticated, like the older actors and musicians who showed up at her parents' villa. Those guys were worldly, elegant, serious and they looked and smelled fantastic. They knew how to talk at dinner, and they didn't whisper.

  Unfortunately, none of them seemed to be interested in her as anything other than her mom and dad's little girl.

  "Nope," Tibby answered at last. "I didn't slut it up this time. Just behaved myself. But I did meet Jude Law."

  "Oh my God, no you didn't! Was he totally beautiful?" Mills grabbed Tibby around the waist and looked deep into her eyes.

  "You have no idea. It was like Talented Mr Ripley without the head wound. He was tanned, and blond, and gorgeous." Tibby gushed. Of course she didn't mention that he had only stayed for about twenty minutes, after he'd had a drink and spoken with her father. But then, that didn't matter. Jude Law had shown up at her house, and he'd nodded at her and said hello in his perfect English accent. It had made her entire holiday.

  "Oh my God you are so lucky. Next summer I'm totally coming with you." Mills squeezed Tibby tightly, then released her and went back to brushing her teeth. "So are you saying you didn't get heavy with anyone at all?"

  "Yep, 'fraid so. Sorry to be a big fat disappointment. Sounds like I've got some catching up to do." She looked at Mills with a mock-sad face, but the fact was she didn't feel sad. At all. She didn't feel like explaining to Mills why she hadn't wanted to get down and dirty with any of the boys she had met during the summer, and she wasn't about to apologize for it. And anyway, she couldn't stop thinking about what her father had said; Etienne Girard wanted to talk to her about his new movie, and if things worked out she'd never have to contemplate another annoying teenage boy ever again.