The Ashleys

by Melissa de la Cruz

  A. A. knew Lili would get it done. Nothing seemed to be impossible with Lili and her Blackberry. She could probably plan the takeover of a small country with that thing.

  They were done with their salads and had moved on to the fruit cobbler (four spoons) when a familiar blonde crashed into their table.

  “I hope you guys don’t mind,” Daphne Shepard said breathlessly. “But the pap patrol is out there and I don’t want them to see me with Rake.” She waved at Rake Parkins across the patio. “Is it okay if I leave the restaurant with you?”

  Was it okay?

  First off, Daphne was now dating Rake? What happened to the model girlfriend and the baby? Major inside information! Secondly, they had to pretend to be her posse? Could that be any more awesome? This was so much better than reading Us Weekly. They were living it.

  “But here’s the thing,” Daphne said. “My driver’s stuck in traffic, and I told Rake I’d meet him at the Mondrian in five minutes. I wouldn’t ask, but . . .”

  “We have a car,” Lauren assured her.

  “Why don’t we have Dex pull up right in front of the restaurant and make sure the car’s running when we all get in?” A. A. suggested smoothly. “And then we can just drop you off at the hotel.” This was just like when her mom had to dodge the scandal sheets when she was caught leaving the lipo clinic last year. Her mom had taught her all about how to make an effective exit when photographers were involved. Keep moving with your head down, and never look directly at the camera. She looked at Lauren. “Where is Dex?”

  “He’s parked right across the street,” said Lauren. “You think he’d let a valet drive that car? Let me tell him the plan.”

  A few minutes later, all four girls surrounded Daphne as they exited the restaurant to a torrent of flashbulbs, hotfooting it to the Cadillac, where Dex had put up the roof for extra security. After making sure everyone was inside, A. A. slammed the door behind her. “Go, go, go!” she yelled to Dex, who winked at her from the driver’s seat.

  A. A. smiled at Daphne, who was already on the phone with her clandestine boyfriend. She marveled that it was true what they said—in Hollywood stars really fell out of the sky, or in their case, on your dessert.

  25

  AT A SLEEPOVER PARTY, WHO SAID ANYTHING ABOUT SLEEP?

  IT WAS ALREADY DARK WHEN they arrived back in San Francisco, and Lili was exhausted, but it was a good exhausted, the kind that came from spending a great day with your friends blowing through way too much money, eating way too many things that were bad for you, and knowing you would do it all again if you could. The four girls were zombies on the flight back to the city, but when they arrived at the Pages’ mansion in the marina, Lili could feel their energy return.

  Lili loved sleepover parties, especially since her parents never let her throw them because they were too worried her friends would be too loud and wake up her baby sisters. A. A. sometimes had them over, and they’d spy on A. A.’s brother and his friends and order room service all night, but mostly they had sleepovers at Ashley’s house, because they always hung out at Ashley’s house.

  Even for Lili’s twelfth birthday, she had to get ready for her party at Ashley’s house instead of her own, because Ashley wanted to “surprise” her with a gift before the party. The gift turned out to be a framed photograph of Ashley. Lili kept it in a drawer in her bathroom next to the toilet. Just for once Lili would love to get ready at her own house instead of having to drag all her makeup and her ceramic flat iron (which weighed a ton) to Ashley’s.

  Okay, so maybe her mom could be a little strict. Maybe hanging out at her house wouldn’t be as fun anyway, since they weren’t allowed to watch anything but PBS, and they had to use the computer in the kitchen only.

  She followed as Lauren led the way to her bedroom, which was two stories. Upstairs was a loft sleep-and-play area with shelves of books, dozens of toys, a computer cubby, and four built-in bunk beds that had flat-screen televisions installed at the foot of each bed. Downstairs Lili saw a king-size bed, a vanity with theater lighting and a plush cushioned seat, and mirrored closets that took up the whole back wall. It was lavish and extravagant, but she expected nothing less after seeing Air Force Page.

  “You can put your stuff in here,” Lauren told them, indicating an empty closet near the bathroom. “I’m changing into pj’s,” she added, disappearing into a bathroom.

  Lili wondered why Lauren wouldn’t change outside with the rest of them as the three slipped into their matching pajamas: pink glitter tanks with “The Ashleys” monogrammed in front and striped cotton capri pants from Limited Too, her hands-down favorite store at the mall. Sure, Robertson Boulevard was great and all, but the local Galleria was just as good in a pinch. And you didn’t need a private jet to get there.

  Lauren came out of the bathroom wearing a sloppy old oversize T-shirt that said “Cal” (for UC Berkeley) and faded sweatpants. She stared at the Ashleys in their glitter pj’s. Lili couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for the girl. Didn’t she know that everything had a style quotient? In any event, Lauren had just failed the sleepwear category. “You guys want to play a board game?” Lauren asked.

  “Sure—Scruples?” suggested A. A.

  “Or What If?” Lili said.

  “Nah, let’s play Seven Deadly Sins,” Ashley decided.

  They all looked at Lauren hopefully, but she just stood there in her bunny slippers, looking distressed. “I don’t have any of those,” she told them. She opened a closet and removed boxes of Monopoly, Sorry, Clue, Cranium, and Trivial Pursuit. They were all brand-new and still wrapped in plastic. Lili guessed correctly that Lauren’s mom had purchased them especially for her first sleepover party.

  Ashley crinkled her nose, a dangerous sign. “No, thanks,” she said politely, although it was obvious that she thought Lauren was a bit of a dweeb for imagining they would be interested in playing any of those games.

  “We could make ice-cream sundaes,” Lauren said, a bit desperately. “Or s’mores. We could build a campfire outside.”

  A. A. yawned without covering her mouth. “I’m sleepy,” she said drowsily, lying down on the silk comforter on top of Lauren’s bed.

  “Don’t be a tool, it’s not that late,” said Ashley, sitting next to A. A. and giving her a friendly shove. “It’s not even close to midnight.”

  “What about giving each other makeovers?” Lauren asked frantically. “I just got a ton of new stuff from Sephora.” She lugged a train case full of cosmetics out of the bathroom and spilled it all over the duvet.

  “Can I have this?” Ashley asked, plucking a Chanel lip gloss from the pile. She pocketed it without awaiting an answer.

  Makeovers were so sixth grade. Poor Lauren, Lili thought. She had absolutely no idea how to throw the perfect sleepover party. Really, it was so easy.

  “You guys, you know what we could do,” Lili said, knowing it was time to save the evening, since Ashley looked content to watch Lauren squirm and A. A. could barely keep her eyes open. She pulled out the Gregory Hall directory she kept in her bag. A. A. had nicked it from her brother’s room last year, and they took turns hiding it for safekeeping. The front of the book was all faded and torn, and there were chai and water stains on some of the pages. It had survived many a sleepover party.

  “What’s that?” asked Lauren, as she stacked the board games back in the closet and several stuffed animals tumbled out and hit her in the face.

  “You’ll see,” Lili said, sitting next to Ashley on the bed and riffling through the pages. She nudged Ashley. “Do you think we should start with . . .” She let the sentence trail off, since she knew Ashley knew what she was thinking. They had talked about it while Lauren was in the bathroom.

  Ashley looked at Lauren and raised an eyebrow. “Yeah.”

  “Whose phone are we using?” A. A. asked, rubbing her eyes and looking a lot more awake now that something interesting was happening. She pushed herself up on her elbows.

  “Give it
here,” said Ashley, taking the phone book out of Lili’s hands. She always had to run the show. “Where’s your phone?” she demanded.

  Lauren hunted down the cordless and brought it over. The four of them huddled close to one another as Ashley continued to flip through the pages of the directory.

  “Do you think he’ll be home?” Lili asked, nervously twisting a lock of her hair. This was her favorite part of any sleepover, but it was the most nerve-wracking, too. She felt her stomach drop at what they were about to do. Even though she wasn’t going to be the one doing the deed, she felt terrified for Lauren. It was scary to find out exactly how you rated.

  “We can only hope,” Ashley said, leafing through the Rs—Ramsey, Reading, Reckler—until she found the one they were looking for.

  “What’s going on?” Lauren asked, trying to look over Ashley’s shoulder.

  “Should we tell her?” said Ashley.

  “Tell me what?”

  “Do it,” Lili urged. Put the poor girl out of her misery. Besides, they had to do it now before it got too late in the evening.

  Ashley deposited the phone book in Lauren’s lap. It was open to Billy Reddy’s page. There was a photo of Billy, looking tousled and gorgeous, along with his address and phone number.

  “What do you want me to do this with this?” Lauren asked.

  “Billy Reddy’s your friend, right?” asked Ashley. “You keep telling us how close you guys are.”

  “Uh-huh.” Lauren fidgeted, and the color drained from her cheeks. Lili had the distinct feeling that Lauren’s vaunted connection to Billy wasn’t as strong as she kept implying.

  “Okay, then. He should be able to accept a rank call from you,” Ashley said.

  “What’s a rank call?” asked Lauren, as A. A. punched in a series of numbers on the telephone.

  “It’s ringing!” Lili whispered, feeling so excited she wanted to puke.

  “You’re about to find out,” Ashley said, handing Lauren the phone. “Now, when he picks up the phone, this is what you say. . . .”

  26

  CALLING YOUR CRUSH: TEN CENTS A MINUTE. HAVING HIM ACTUALLY PICK UP THE PHONE: PRICELESS.

  “HELLO?” A DEEP VOICE ASKED.

  “Hey, is this Billy?” Lauren asked, keeping her voice as light and casual as she could possibly make it.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Hey, it’s Lauren. Um . . .” She stalled. Did they really expect her to do this? She looked at their expectant faces. Yes. They did. The Ashleys were hanging on every word. What if he had no idea who she was? Should she remind him? “I’m planning to come to your lacrosse game next week with some friends,” she said hurriedly, hoping it would jog his memory. “Dex says you guys just need one more game to make it to the play-offs.”

  “Oh, yeah. Hey, Lauren. Good to hear from you. Does Dex need to talk to me or something?” Billy asked, sounding a little more awake.

  “Ask him! Do it!” Ashley whispered fiercely, while Lili and A. A. looked like they were going to keel over with excitement.

  Lauren gulped. She would have to do what they told her if she wanted to salvage this sleepover. So far, neither her ideas nor her mom’s had been met with any level of enthusiasm—she hoped Trudy wouldn’t notice that none of the board games had been opened. If she wanted the girls to like her—and after spending the day with them, she really wanted them to, even if she planned to . . . what did she plan to do again? She gripped the phone more tightly.

  “No . . . no . . . this isn’t about Dex. Um. Billy?”

  “Still here,” replied Billy.

  “Will you accept a rank call?” she asked, her stomach twisted in knots. She had no idea what she had just asked him and fully expected him to slam the phone down immediately.

  But to her immense surprise, he only groaned. “Oh no, not one of these again.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said, completely flabbergasted that he even knew what she was talking about. “This was totally not my idea, trust me.” She saw Ashley’s face falter and felt a little more empowered.

  “No . . . no problem. I’ll do it. I don’t want you to get penalized. What do you want me to rank?”

  “What do I want you to rank?” Lauren repeated, looking at the girls for help.

  “Put him on speaker!” ordered Ashley. From the way the Ashleys suddenly exploded in a flurry of activity, it was obvious they hadn’t thought Billy would play along either. “C’mon, we have to hear this!”

  But Lauren waved her away, not wanting to share Billy with them just yet. What do I do? she mouthed, as Lili shoved a piece of paper toward her with a list of attributes written on it, while A. A. handed her a pen.

  She looked down and began reading from it. “Um. Hair?”

  “Nine,” he said.

  She wrote “9” on the paper and noticed the reaction on the Ashleys’ faces when she did so. Ashley looked like she’d just been stabbed in the heart.

  “Smile?” she asked next, as it dawned on her that a “rank call” was like some sort of beauty contest, where a girl called a boy so that the boy could judge her on a scale of one to ten in a number of categories. It was sick, twisted, and totally awesome. Billy seemed to take it really seriously, too. She could tell he was thinking through every category. Weighing her. Deciding how attractive she was and then putting a number on it. Her mother had always told her that beauty contests were horrible examples of patriarchal oppression and that true beauty came from within, but she didn’t know the Ashleys.

  “Smile? I’ll have to give it a nine as well,” Billy said.

  When she wrote down “9” for smile, Lili shook her so vigorously in congratulations that Lauren almost dropped the phone.

  Lauren felt her confidence grow as she went down the list, including “personality,” “clothes,” and “intellect.” So far she was batting a decent average. “Last one,” she said. “Body?”

  There was a moment of silence on the other end, and then “Six,” came the not-so-exciting reply.

  “Oh.” That was her lowest score so far. She tried not to feel too insulted. “Okay, I guess that’s it. Thanks, Billy. Good luck on your lacrosse game next week.” She hung up the phone, her palms still sweaty from the conversation.

  “I can’t believe Billy Reddy just ranked you!” A. A. crowed, grabbing the paper from Lauren’s hand.

  “You’re so lucky!” said Lili, her cheeks bright red. “None of us has ever been ranked by Billy Reddy.”

  “That’s because he probably doesn’t know who we are,” A. A. said mildly.

  “A. A., shut up,” said Ashley. She took the paper and made a few quick calculations with her pen, her forehead scrunching in concentration. Lauren assumed it was because math was Ashley’s worst subject.

  “You averaged an eighty-eight, not a seventy-eight,” A. A. said, correcting her friend’s addition as she looked over Ashley’s shoulder. “Not bad for your first rank.”

  “But he gave me a six for body?” said Lauren, twisting her mouth. “It’s probably because I’m really flat, right?” She pulled on the collar of her T-shirt and looked down. Sadly, they hadn’t grown in the last five minutes. Her mother had made her wear a training bra, although she wasn’t sure exactly what the bra was training her chest to do. Grow?

  “Do guys really like girls with bigger boobs?” mused Lili, who was similarly handicapped in that area. “My sisters said big boobs are a total nightmare, and it’s so much better to be flat.”

  “Keep telling yourself that, Lil, maybe one day you’ll believe it,” Ashley teased, throwing a pillow at her.

  “Okay, so what do I do now?” asked Lauren, finally feeling able to relax in their company. She’d pulled off her first rank call, with Billy Reddy, no less! Later she’d have to remember every aspect of their conversation so she could savor it all over again.

  “You pass the phone to someone else, and they have to call a boy of your choosing,” Lili explained, plumping the pillow Ashley had thrown at her and stuffing i
t underneath her head.

  “Who should I pass it to?”

  “Anyone you want,” Ashley said, a bit impatiently.

  “Pass it to A. A.,” suggested Lili.

  Lauren obligingly passed the cordless and A. A. straightened up, took the pad and pencil, and affected a brisk, no-nonsense demeanor. “Who’s the lucky victim?” she asked.

  “Tri Fitzpatrick,” Ashley prodded, poking Lauren in the side.

  “Okay. Tri Fitzpatrick,” Lauren obliged.

  A. A. turned as pink as her tank top. “I can’t ask Tri for a rank call! He’s my friend,” she said, looking almost panicked.

  “Which is why you should have him rank you,” Ashley said in a reasonable tone. “Don’t you want to know what he really thinks?”

  “NO!” A. A. shook her head.

  “Too bad,” Ashley said. “You have to do it. You know what happens if you forfeit.” She smiled that evil Ashley Spencer smile that Lauren had seen directed her way a thousand times in the refectory, accompanied by mocking laughter.

  “For the last time, Ashley, I am not going to streak a Gregory Hall lacrosse game if I forfeit a rank call. It’s just not going to happen,” A. A. huffed.

  “Whatever. Lame-o,” said Ashley, making a circling motion next to her head to indicate “crazy.”

  “Billy is Lauren’s friend and he ranked her,” Lili pointed out. “C’mon, it’ll be fun. Tri’s ranked all of us except you, you know.”

  “You don’t have to do it,” Lauren said, feeling bad that she’d unwittingly stumbled into another one of Ashley’s power moves.

  A. A. sighed. “No, I’ll do it,” she said roughly, picking up the phone and dialing a number. “This game is so dumb.”

  “And yet so addictive at the same time,” said Lili wisely.

  “Maybe if I’m lucky he won’t be home,” A. A. said, looking at her watch as the phone started to ring.

  Lauren hoped so too, for A. A.’s sake. She didn’t know Tri. He was one of the popular seventh-grade boys who was always hanging out with the Ashleys. He was really cute, but incredibly short.