"So, Lili," said Cassandra, glancing over at Jezebel's smirking face. "How do you feel about camping? Max is really into it, you know."
"Urn ..." Lili was flustered for a moment. She didn't know that Max was into camping. She barely knew anything about him, apart from the fact that he was a star player on the lacrosse team (a fluke, apparently, at boho heaven Reed Prep), that he spoke fluent French (and only took French conversation to sharpen his skills), and that he rode a skateboard
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and played in a band. He was cute and he liked her. What else was there to know? She inadvertently nudged him with her leg, but he didn't even notice. The guys were still engrossed in band talk. "I guess so. I mean, why not?"
"Really?" Jezebel screwed up her face. "You don't look like the outdoor type."
"Neither do you," Lili retorted. It came out sharper and ruder than she intended, but really! Both of the girls were as pale as ghosts. Apart from the red smudges of oversqueezed zits, that is.
"My parents take us hiking in the Sierra Nevadas every summer," said Jezebel, a strange glint in her unusually milky blue eyes. "My dad is, like, a woodsman." Uh-huh. Jezebel's dad ran a hedge fund.
"Yeah, and our families let us go camping up on Mount Tarn all the time." Cassandra ran her pale, ink-stained fingers through her dyed bangs. "They believe in kids being independent, learning to fend for themselves. Have you ever been camping?"
"Probably ..." Lili tried to play for time. "I don't really remember, exactly."
"Either you have or you haven't." Jezebel rolled her eyes.
"God, you've totally missed out!" said Cassandra, elbowing Lili. Just what Lili needed--scaly flakes of skin from Cassandra's dry, moisturizer-deprived arms on her new
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black suede Daryl K jacket! "Are your parents really over-protective or something?"
"Or maybe they think you're just too young?" Jezebel asked with a curled lip, and the look she and Cassandra exchanged suggested that this was exactly what they thought. They were acting as though she was a complete baby.
"Of course not," Lili said quickly. Her heart was beating fast. "They let me do whatever I want." Which was not at all true. Her parents were pretty strict.
"Even go camping on Mount Tarn?" Cassandra sounded skeptical.
'"Course!" Lili lied, looking down at the dregs of her coffee cup. "Mount Tarn" was Mount Tamalpais, just north of the Golden Gate, but it might as well have been north of the Arctic Circle as far as Lili was concerned. Her family was definitely not the camping type. More like the five-star-hotel type.
Her father, Charles Li, was a Silicon Valley CEO, and his idea of relaxing was flying up to Napa for a weekend in his prop plane to buy cases of wine for his cellar. Her mother, Nancy Khan, was an ex-high-powered lawyer who now channeled her excess energies into Miss Gamble's board of trustees meetings and haranguing her daughters' private tutors. Their house in Presidio Heights was as big as a small nation, so there was always a battalion of staff members for
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her mother to manage--including two nannies, one each for Lili's adorable little sisters, Josephine and Brennan, and two personal assistants for her mother's charity and social events.
Lili had more extracurricular activities and classes to attend than the entire seventh grade of Miss Gamble's combined, from music and language lessons to assisting a genetic researcher at Stanford. Whenever her two older sisters were back from college or boarding school for any length of time, the whole family flew to Taiwan to visit relatives. Her mother's idea of roughing it was to fly first class rather than charter a jet. When--and why--would they ever go camping?
Not that Lili would ever suggest such a thing to her parents in the first place. The shoes people wore when they went camping were just plain ugly. Who wanted to wear giant work boots or those sandals with congealed-black-rubber soles and straps made out of Velcro? Not any of the Ashleys, that was certain. She couldn't help shuddering at the thought.
"Are you cold?" Max asked. "I could ask them to turn up the thermostat."
Lili shook her head and returned his smile. At least he was paying her some attention at last. He reached across the table and squeezed her hand. With his fine blond hair and inky-dark eyes, he was so striking. She could almost forgive him for dragging her to a place like this and abandoning her to these witchy alterna-wannabes.
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"We were just talking about the camping trip to Mount Tarn," said Cassandra, leaning across Lili like she wasn't there. Lili flinched: Cassandra's hair smelled gummy and looked like it hadn't been washed in three days. At least she didn't have to worry about Max dumping her for some girl at his own school--they made the Helena Academy pigs look like debutantes.
"Yeah, I meant to mention it." Max sounded sheepish. "We've been talking about it at school."
"Lili wants to go," chimed in Jezebel from across the table. "Don't you, Lili?"
Lili nodded and tried her best to smile. Not only did she not want to go, she would never be allowed to go. Not in a million years. Her parents would think it was absurdly dangerous, especially at this time of the year. And they would never agree to a coed camping trip, whatever the season.
Her parents didn't even know Max was her boyfriend--for one very good reason: Lili wasn't allowed to have a boyfriend. Any boyfriend. Not until she was fifteen, two long years away. Nobody knew about this rule, not even the other Ashleys. This afternoon she'd told her mother she was meeting A.A. at the Fillmore Starbucks to plan a science project and then ducked around the corner once Nancy's black hybrid SUV was out of sight.
"It would be so cool if you could come." Max's smile was
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bright: It lit up his whole face. "I wasn't sure if you'd be able to."
"Yeah." Cassandra sighed, giving a mock-sympathetic shrug. "You probably won't be allowed, right?"
"Hey, Max--it's okay," Jezebel said. "We can invite another girl from school to make up the numbers."
"My sister could come," Quentin suggested, snapping his checkerboard suspenders.
"I'll go!" Lili almost shouted. No way was she going to be jostled aside by Courtney Love's godchildren. No way were they going to get away with implying she was an over-privileged, overprotected princess who was too delicate to go on a camping trip. Lili was good at everything she set her mind to--why should camping be any different?
"That's great." Max beamed. "We were thinking about two weekends from now, before it starts getting really cold. Will that be okay?"
"Sure." Lili nodded, but her heart was pounding. With her overscheduled life, it was hard enough lying to her mother about a few hours in the city. How was she going to get away with a whole weekend up on Mount Tarn?
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3 A.A. WALKS THE THIN LINE BETWEEN LOVE AND HATE
A. A. DRUMMED HER FINGERS IMPATIENTLY on the cracked wooden table, trying to focus on the vintage black-and-white photos lining the opposite wall. This was Buzz Burgers, one of her favorite places to eat, especially when she wasn't with the other Ashleys. Unlike her best friends, A.A. actually liked to eat, especially on a Saturday evening in November after she'd played a boisterous game of soccer in the afternoon. She loved how the fresh, brisk, soon-to-be winter wind felt on her skin.
She didn't even mind eating in public, unlike Ashley Spencer, who would rather starve than be seen in public consuming anything larger than an olive--even if it meant scarfing a pint of ice cream when she got home. And Lili never let food pass her lips if (a) there were boys around,
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(b) the restaurant wasn't scrupulously immaculate and scrubbed clean, or (c) Ashley Spencer wasn't eating. Those two would faint from hunger before conceding in front of each other. It was a totally ridiculous competition, and A.A. was always glad she wasn't part of it.
Tall and slim, with a super-speedy metabolism, sports-mad A.A. could get away with eating like a boy. Her fashion-model mother kept warning her that she couldn't keep stuffing her face forever, but A
.A. was going to enjoy every minute of eating like a whale while she could. And there was nothing in the world she liked to eat as much as a huge, juicy burger, dripping with melted cheese and crammed into a lightly toasted bun--just the way Buzz made them.
But tonight she couldn't wait to get out of this place. Sure, she was looking forward to the food arriving. A.A. kept telling herself that by the time she'd silently counted all the photos on the wall her burger would arrive and the worst part of the evening would be over. Because then she could eat, and once she had eaten, she could get out of here.
"Hey, do you want to try some of this soup?" Hunter's voice broke her concentration. Ugh! Now she'd lost count.
"It's okay," she said, giving him a quick grin. He probably thought she was acting weird, and that was too bad--it wasn't his fault. Hunter was her boyfriend, and he was a nice guy, even if he did have hair that looked like a bunch of
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uprooted carrots. Hunter knew she liked this place, which was why he'd suggested it. He was that kind of guy--thoughtful, in a low-key kind of way. They'd only been dating for a month, and he tried to hang out with her as much as their schedules allowed. He'd even come to watch her play soccer that afternoon once his crew practice was over (lacrosse season had ended).
Hunter, sitting on her right and scooping up another giant mouthful of clam chowder, wasn't the problem. The problem was on the other side of the table. Specifically, Tri Fitzpatrick--the boy who used to date Ashley Spencer.
The boy who used to be A.A.'s best friend, the guy who lived in a luxurious private apartment in the Fairmont Hotel, just like she did. The boy she'd kissed at a Seven Minutes in Heaven party, the boy who acted like he was totally into her. A.A. still didn't understand what had happened between her and Tri--one day they were best friends, then suddenly it was as if they hardly knew each other at all. One day they were kissing, the next day he acted like it had never happened. A.A. just didn't get him.
And there was something else she didn't get. It had been only a couple of weeks since Ashley had broken up with him after the Preteen Queen party, and Tri had already found another girlfriend. Her name was Cecily, and he'd brought her along tonight. A double date--Tri's idea. Cecily was sitting there next to him in Buzz Burgers, holding his hand. At
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least Hunter had the sense to eat his soup and not paw at her like a lovesick puppy every few minutes.
That's what she liked about Hunter--he didn't push. They didn't have to make out every second to show the world they liked each other. Of course, they kissed--what couple didn't? But it was nothing like the kiss she'd experienced with Tri. Not that she was comparing. Kissing Hunter felt comfortable and safe. It didn't have the same dizzying energy as kissing Tri, but maybe that was for the best. Maybe Tri's kiss had been memorable merely because it was the only one they would ever share.
Forty-four, forty-five, forty-six ... the waitress took away Hunter's scraped-clean bread bowl.... Forty-seven, forty-eight, forty-nine ... was that their food? No, it was another table's.... Fifty, fifty-one, fifty-two ... God, what was Tri's disagreeable girlfriend jabbering about now?
"I wish I hadn't ordered a burger," Cecily lamented, rubbing her flat-as-a-washboard stomach with the hand that Tri wasn't clinging to. Great--just what the world needed. Another girl talking about her teensy-weensy appetite, pretending to boys that she lived on a handful of almonds and a teaspoon of low-fat salad dressing. Cecily gestured with her head (she had the Posh Spice bob) to the next table. "They just look huge."
"That's the point," A.A. said, knowing she sounded snippy, but she didn't care. They were at Buzz Burgers, get
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it? If she wanted to hang out with picky eaters, she'd rather be with Ashley and Lili anytime.
"Not everyone knows that." Suddenly Tri was talking to her, after not directing a single word to her all evening. "But then I guess you know everything."
A.A.'s mouth fell open. Whenever they saw each other these days, it felt like Tri was angry at her. What was up with that? He was the one who'd kissed her in the closet while he was still officially going out with Ashley. He was the one who said he was planning to break up with Ashley, and then--the very next day--went round to Ashley's house to beg her forgiveness and tell her she was the only girl in the world. And now that Ashley had dumped him, he'd instantly pounced on a new girlfriend. He was a grade-A jerk.
"Here's our food," Hunter said, sounding relieved, as the waitress swooped down on them with dinner plates as large as trays. At least he wouldn't force A.A. into another hideous double date. She stopped trying to think of a nasty response to Tri's rude comment and focused on the burger in front of her--a towering mass of meaty deliciousness in the middle of a sea of golden, crinkled fries.
"So, what's it like at Miss Gamble's?" Cecily was trying to make polite conversation, carefully squeezing a pool of ketchup onto the side of her plate.
"It's cool." A.A. shrugged, her mouth full. Cecily didn't
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even go to school: She and her sisters had private tutors, since they had to travel so often. Her parents owned swanky hotels and resorts around the globe, including one recently renovated hotel in San Francisco. That was how Tri had met her, at some hoteliers association get-together his parents had dragged him to. It was a dynastic match, A.A. thought, taking another huge bite out of her burger. Next Tri would be going out with Paris Hilton!
"I hear you guys get to do lots of fun things there." Cecily nibbled on a fry and gave A.A. a nervous smile. A.A. stared hard at her, trying to decide if she was being sarcastic or malicious in anyway, but Cecily looked sincere. "Like the big party where you turned your school gym into a nightclub? It sounded so cool."
"It's not really a gym," A.A. told her. Miss Gamble's wouldn't have anything as tacky as a gym, but it wasn't Cecily's fault she didn't know that. All the girl knew about junior high was from TV and movies.
"I wish my parents would let me go there." Cecily sighed. "It'd be so cool to meet other kids my age and have tons of friends."
A.A. chewed a particularly juicy mouthful, feeling kind of bad for Cecily. She clearly had no idea that making friends at school was way more complicated than just showing up. She should ask Lauren Page. Lauren was rejected--make that
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shunned-- for years until her father's website, YourTV.com, went through the roof and she walked into school with new clothes, new hair, and a new body. And even then the Ashleys snubbed her until she could deliver something they really wanted, like spots in the Preteen Queen reality show.
She liked Lauren, even though it seemed like sometimes Lauren was trying too hard to get them to like her and should just chill out. Cecily obviously thought girls' schools were cozy and sweet. She wouldn't last five minutes at Miss Gamble's.
Tri snorted. "Ces, that place is like a shark pit. They'd eat you alive."
A.A. glared at him. It was one thing for her to think that, but quite another for Tri Fitzpatrick to be badmouthing her school all over the Bay Area.
"That's because some Gregory Hall boys are too immature for Miss Gamble's girls," she explained to Cecily, ripping her slice of pickle in two and wishing it was Tri's arm. "You know how it is. Some guys just can't handle strong women. They're too scared."
"You'd be scared as well." Tri was talking to Cecily but shooting A.A. the evil eye. "You should really steer clear of that place."
"If you don't want those fries, I'll have them." Hunter gestured at A.A.'s plate, his hand creeping over. He was totally oblivious to the conversation, his eyes focused on the
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game playing on a flat-screen television above the counter.
"You can have some of mine," offered Cecily. "Usually I'd eat all of this, but my grandparents took me and my sisters out to Ruth's Chris for lunch and I really stuffed my face. Sorry to be such a killjoy. I hate it when girls pretend they don't eat."
A.A. wasn't sure what was worse--Cecily being a dainty litt
le namby-pamby, or Cecily being not that bad. Almost normal, in fact. If circumstances were different, A.A. might even like her.
"Last time Ces and I went out for dinner, we ordered these giant sundaes and had an eating contest," Tri bragged. If he was talking to Hunter, he was wasting his time--Hunter was preoccupied shoveling forkloads of Cecily's fries onto his own plate. "And she totally won!"
"Tri's used to losing at things," A.A. couldn't resist saying, gazing over at Cecily's innocent face rather than look at Tri's annoying one. "I've kicked his ass from here to Toronto in every video game known to man."
"As if that's something to be proud of," scoffed Tri. "Macho is real attractive on a chick. See what I was talking about, Ces? You should go home tonight and thank your parents for keeping you away from Miss Gamble's."
"Actually, I think that's pretty cool she's so good at games," Cecily began, her face flushing.
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A chick? Since when did Tri call her a "chick"? A.A. was furious. "You're embarrassing yourself," she told Tri. "Why don't you pick on someone jour own size?"
Now it was Tri's turn to go red. He was pretty sensitive these days about being the shortest seventh grader at Gregory Hall.
"I can't believe you guys are letting all this great food go to waste," said Hunter, greedily eying A.A.'s plate again. "I thought you were hungry."
"I've lost my appetite." A.A. pushed her plate away.
"Alert the media," mumbled Tri, sullenly picking up the soggy remains of a bun and pushing it into his mouth. A.A. was furious with him. How dare he be so rude to her in front of Cecily? And in front of her own boyfriend? Tri should know better than to mess with someone twice his height and triple his intelligence. If this was the way he wanted to play it, then okay.
Birthday Vicious (The Ashleys, Book 3) Page 2
