Ali laughed and Coco scowled. “Please,” Ali said. “That’s baby stuff. Up at Yale we go out every night—the key is never to sign up for a class that meets in the morning. Some guy always has a keg going in his dorm suite, but I like the late-night cocktail parties better. There are these secret societies that, like, presidents and major business leaders have belonged to, and they have these elaborate clubhouses that look like Greek temples, and you can’t believe what goes on in there. They’re all sworn to secrecy, but rumors do go around. . . .”
“I’ve already decided I’m going to pledge Skull and Bones when I get up there two years from now,” Spencer said.
“You totally should,” Ali said. “Then you can tell me all about it.”
Coco rolled her eyes. “How are you going to get into Yale, Spencer? Your grades don’t even come close to being good enough.”
“Who needs grades?” Spencer said. “My mother is the new governor of New Jersey come January—or have you forgotten? That wouldn’t be like you, Cocopuff, to forget something as important as that. Especially since you’re so crazy about the thought of setting up camp in the governor’s mansion.”
Ali laughed. “You always were a suck-up, Coco. Come on, Spencer, make a bet or fold your pathetic little hand.”
“I’m in for twenty,” Spencer said. “So have you met any famous people’s kids yet?”
“Are you kidding?” Ali said. “They don’t let you in unless your parents are rich and/or famous or you’re a genius.”
“How’d you get in, then?” Coco asked, expressing exactly what Haley was thinking but was too polite to say out loud.
“Genius, of course,” Ali said without batting an eyelash. “One of my suitemates, Carlotta, has a pied-à-terre across from the Met on Fifth Avenue. Her mother’s a Spanish duchess or something—they’re related to the Spanish royal family somehow—and she’s never there, so Carlotta brings a gang of us down to the city to party in style all weekend . . . but I swear the best part is that nobody has to know where I am or what I’m doing. I don’t have to check in with Mom or Consuela and lie to them about what I’ve been up to all night. I just love that freedom.”
“When do you study?” Haley asked. “I mean, isn’t Yale kind of a tough school? Don’t you have a lot of work to do?”
“Work, shmerk,” Ali said. “Read this, read that . . . you don’t even have to show up to lectures if you don’t feel like it. We get a week before exams to study—I’ll make up all my work then.”
“Really, why waste your time studying?” Spencer said. “You’re young, you’re beautiful—it’s your time to live, baby!”
“Oh, Spencer, shut up,” Coco said. “Can we talk about something else, please?”
“Like what, baby sis?” Ali said. “Homecoming? The latest zit creams?” She and Spencer snickered. Haley could feel Coco fuming beside her, probably because Coco’s forehead was showing some signs of stress.
“You’re hilarious,” Coco snapped.
Haley decided to change the subject. “Did you guys hear that Reese Highland broke his foot in the soccer game today? He left the field on crutches.”
“You’re kidding,” Spencer said. He seemed genuinely upset. “He actually broke his foot? Or just sprained something?”
“It’s broken,” Haley said. “My mother talked to his mother when they got back from the emergency room.”
“That sucks,” Spencer said. “Does this mean he won’t be playing hoops this year?”
“Looks that way,” Coco said, glad someone had finally snatched her boyfriend’s attention away from her self-centered sister.
“But we need him.” Spencer dropped his cards on the table and said, “I’m out.” Then he got up, glass in hand, and paced the room. “This was going to be the year the Hawks go all the way! Without Reese it’s going to be impossible—or close to it. . . .”
While Spencer muttered drunkenly about the fate of the basketball team, Haley’s bag vibrated. She reached inside and pulled out her buzzing cell phone. A text was coming in—from Reese, of all people.
Need 2 C U. Meet me 4 a bite at Hap’s?
“What is it?” Coco leaned over, trying to read Haley’s phone, which immediately vibrated again—another text coming in.
“Nothing, just a text,” Haley said, glancing at the new message. This was from Sasha Lewis—a former sidekick of Coco’s, now estranged.
The whole posse’s going to Bubbies,
the text said.
Come meet us!
“Now what?” Coco asked, her usual nosy self.
“Nothing,” Haley said. “I’ll be right back.”
She got up and went into the bathroom. She needed a minute to think without Spencer and Ali’s inane chatter cluttering her mind. If she went to Hap’s to meet Reese, she didn’t want Coco tagging along. And if she chose to go see Sasha and Whitney, they especially wouldn’t appreciate Coco’s presence. But if Coco knew where Haley was going, in either case, she might insist on tagging along. And it wasn’t easy saying no to Coco—no was a word Miss De Clerq refused to hear.
With Ali around, Coco needs a friend, no question. She could use Haley’s help—but does she deserve it? She’s not exactly the most loyal, reliable friend to Haley. But maybe you think Haley is the type who rises above that, who is good even to those who’ve wronged her. Or maybe you think everybody will feel a lot better once Ali is gone again—including Haley. Getting rid of Ali could make all their lives easier. And no one wants to see two sisters tear each other limb from limb—do they? If you think Haley needs to get Ali back to college quick, before she does anything else to harm Coco and Spencer’s unstable union, turn to (SEND OFF ALI).
Maybe Haley should put as much distance between herself and the De Clerq sisters as she can and go hang with Reese. If you think Haley will take any chance she can get to be alone with Reese on a date, go to Hap’s on (CASTAWAY). If you think Haley would rather go hang with Sasha, Cecily, Whitney and their boyfriends, go to Bubbies on (MAMMA MIA).
Of course, maybe you think none of those choices is right for our Haley. If you’re not convinced she has any idea what to do with her social life, turn to (FAMILY JEWELS). Sometimes the gem you’ve been waiting for is sitting right under your nose.
SISTERLY LOVE
* * *
There’s always a story behind a girl with red eyes.
“H-A-W and K! We’re the team to beat today! We don’t care what others say—Hillsdale Hawks are on the way! Goooo, Hawks!”
Haley clapped and shouted along with the rest of Hillsdale High at the annual pep rally to kick off the basketball season. The basketball court was a sea of blue and gold. Cecily Watson glowed as she led the cheers, jumping up and down and revving up the crowd.
Sasha Lewis put two fingers between her lips and let out a piercing whistle. “Woo-hoo! Go, Hawks! Go, Johnny!”
“Yeah!” Whitney Klein called. “Go, Johnny Lane!”
Haley smiled at Whitney’s show of solidarity. Johnny Lane, one of the stars of the basketball team, was Sasha’s boyfriend. Ever since Whitney and Sasha had been forced to spend Thanksgiving break together at their blended family’s new house, they had been inseparable. They now rooted for the same players, wore the same clothes, listened to the same music and ate off each other’s plates. Never mind that a year ago Whitney had turned up her nose at the sight of Sasha’s boyfriend, the leather-clad rebel Johnny Lane, considering him her social inferior—or that he’d been no fan of Whitney’s, either.
“How times change,” Haley said to herself.
“What’s that?” Whitney asked.
“Nothing.” Haley enjoyed sitting with her friends, seeing them get along so well and feeling like they were all a part of the same group at school. The only distraction was Reese sitting courtside on the bench, dressed in button-down shirt and tie, his left foot in a cast, with crutches propped beside him. He clapped for the others, as Haley knew he would—he was nothing if not a good sport�
��but it had to be hard for a star forward to be sidelined with an injury and miss out on the whole season. Haley felt sorry for him. She could tell that even though he was trying to stay positive, he wasn’t feeling like himself.
Once the cheerleaders had done their jobs, the team took the floor. Cecily and the rest of the squad sat down in the front row, right in front of Haley. Cecily turned around and beamed at her friends. “I can’t wait to see Drew play again,” she said. “I mean, I love him and all, but I’m aware that he’s basically an ordinary guy—off the court. On the court he’s like an animal—all instinct. Grrrr!”
Haley laughed and watched as Drew and Johnny warmed up by passing the ball quickly back and forth. “Too bad the third member of their starring trio is down for the count.”
“Totally,” Sasha said. “I don’t know what they’re going to do without Reese. When Johnny heard he was hurt, I think I saw him tear up.”
“This was going to be their year,” Whitney said.
“It still can be,” Cecily said. “Come on, guys! This is a pep rally! Where’s your team spirit?”
Sasha laughed. “I left it in my locker with my pep,” she joked.
The team started scrimmaging. They looked good, Haley thought, but without Reese there was a gaping hole in the offense. A few of the seniors hustled, hoping to fill the gap, but they just didn’t have that Reese magic.
Halfway through the first period, Mia Delgado walked into the gym.
“What cat dragged that in?” Sasha whispered.
Mia Delgado was a Spanish beauty who seemed to be visiting Hillsdale on an extended visa. She was the ex-girlfriend of Sebastian Bodega, an exchange student from Spain. Sebastian was no slouch himself, with sexy brown eyes, wavy dark hair and broad shoulders—he was, after all, a star swimmer. But Mia looked like a supermodel: five foot ten, leggy, with lustrous dark hair and perfect bone structure. And, in fact, she had done her fair share of modeling, especially in Europe.
Mia squeezed her way through the mob of students and sat down in the bleachers one row behind Haley and her friends. Up close, Haley couldn’t help noticing that Mia’s eyes were red and bloodshot—not her usual look. Haley wasn’t the only one who noticed.
“What do you think is the matter with her now?” Whitney whispered.
“Maybe she was out partying all night,” Haley whispered back.
“It’s got to be more than just that,” Whitney said. “It looks more like she’s been crying. But what on earth would Mia have to cry about? Her life is perfect!”
“Nobody’s life is perfect,” Haley said, though if Mia had any major problems, Haley didn’t know about them.
“Maybe she’s pregnant with Sebastian’s love child,” Whitney suggested.
“That is how rumors get started,” Sasha warned.
As the game ended, Mia disappeared, seeming to melt into the crowd. “I guess the secret behind Mia’s red eyes will have to stay a mystery,” Whitney said. “For now, anyway.”
“I’m starving,” Sasha said. “Let’s go to Bubbies and get something to eat.”
“Sounds perfect,” Whitney agreed.
“I’ll go tell Drew and Johnny to meet us there,” Cecily said, running off toward the locker room.
“You coming, Haley?” Sasha asked. “It’ll be fun!”
Haley started to answer but stopped when Reese hobbled over on his crutches. “Hang on.”
“Some scrimmage, huh?” Reese said, trying to sound cheerful.
“Well, they looked good, but not as good as when you’re playing,” Haley said supportively.
“Thanks,” Reese answered, “but I think they’ll be just fine without me. My work here is done. So you want to go to Hap’s for a bite?”
Haley looked at Reese, who was leaning on his crutches and favoring his good right foot. He was probably tired from hobbling around all day—maybe he just wanted a quiet dinner alone with her. Which wouldn’t be a bad thing at all. . . . She could always use more time alone with him.
On the other hand, he hadn’t exactly made a lot of effort to fit her into his busy schedule lately. Reese seemed to expect her to jump when he called, but what about her social life? Maybe she should be more independent and do as she pleased—just the way Reese did.
Bistro fare or greasy comfort food? A quiet supper or a raucous get-together with friends? If you think what Haley and Reese need is a quiet night of down-home cooking at Hap’s—just the two of them—go to (CASTAWAY).
Or would that be too quiet? Reese did seem a little bummed out after having to watch his team from the sidelines. Maybe Captain Bringdown needs some time to himself, and Haley needs a little fun with her friends. If you think Haley should hang with the girls and let Reese go home without her, go to (MAMMA MIA).
Lastly, if you think Haley should go home and call it a night, turn to (FAMILY JEWELS).
GARAGE BANDWIDTH
* * *
Sometimes clutter hides a world of pain.
“Wait until you see the house,” Annie Armstrong said as she led Haley up the steps to Mr. Von’s front door. “Dave’s mom has totally had her way with the place. Except for the garage—Mr. V declared the garage off-limits to all cleanup attempts.”
Haley had reluctantly agreed to visit Annie’s boyfriend, Dave Metzger, at his new house. Dave’s mother had just moved in with their art teacher, Rick Von, at his littered bungalow near Hillside Heights. Dave’s psyche was always in a fragile state, and Haley worried that a major change like this could push him over the edge. Annie insisted things were okay at the new Metzger/Von homestead and brought Haley along to see for herself. In any case, Dave was about to broadcast the next installment of his live video podcast, “Inside Hillsdale,” and Haley wanted to watch behind the scenes and maybe even put in an appearance on air.
Annie rang the doorbell, which was shaped like a belly button. “I’m sure this is on its way out,” she said. Dave greeted them sullenly.
“Hello,” he said, scratching a patch of hives on his neck. “Welcome to my world.”
He led them inside the craftsman-style abode. Haley had to admit that the house was surprisingly tidy and cozy—surely the work of Dave’s mom. “We can skip this part,” Dave said, waving his hand dismissively at the stairs leading up to the bedrooms. “There’s nothing to see here.”
As they slipped past the kitchen, Haley caught a glimpse of Dave’s mom, Nora, vigorously scrubbing the pantry. “Hello there, kids,” she called, waving one pink-rubber-gloved hand.
“Hello, Mrs. Metzger,” Haley said.
“It never ends,” Dave lamented, barely glancing at his mother. He led Haley and Annie out through a side door and into a place that wasn’t tidy at all: Mr. Von’s dingy garage. Haley thought it was actually kind of cool, in a funky, rustic sort of way. It was crammed with old records, stereo equipment, art supplies and Mr. Von’s latest large, abstract paintings. In addition to all of that, Dave had his piles of books and software programs and his videocasting equipment.
“How about some John Coltrane?” Dave flipped through a stack of records and pulled out an old album. The music added to the funky, dusty atmosphere, Haley thought.
“This is where I come to get away from it all,” Dave said. He nodded toward the house. “They’re always . . . I can’t even bring myself to say it.”
“Making out,” Annie said for him. “They’re all over each other. It is truly disgusting.”
“Just thinking about it keeps me up at night,” Dave said. “I mean, even more than usual.”
“That’s terrible,” Haley said. She felt for Dave, but secretly she also thought, Good for them. Why shouldn’t Mr. Von and Mrs. Metzger be happy? Maybe Dave just needed to get used to the new arrangement.
But healthy adjustments were not Dave’s forte. “I had another one of those dreams last night,” he said. “You know, where I’m a lone voyager in space? Only this time I didn’t even have a capsule. I was floating outside without my spacesuit, even thou
gh that’s technically impossible to do without exploding out of your skin—”
“Poor Davy,” Annie said dismissively.
She must get tired of hearing about all his phobias and weird dreams, Haley thought. I certainly wouldn’t be able to put up with it.
“So Haley,” Annie began, changing the subject, “have you heard about this new Web site at school? The one with all the scandalous rumors posted on it?”
Haley gave a clueless look.
“It’s called Hillsdale Hauntings,” Annie continued.
“No,” Haley said. “I haven’t heard of it.”
“Supposedly they’ve even got videos of Hillsdale students in compromising positions, if you know what I mean,” Annie added. “I’ve tried to check it out but the server’s always busy or something—so it must be good, right?”
“Who’ve they got video footage of?” Haley asked innocently.
“Well, there are rumors flying that they’ve got Zoe Jones dancing around a stripper pole,” Annie said. “No one told me if she takes anything off or not.” Zoe Jones was a very pretty and talented sophomore who led a band called Rubber Dynamite. Because of her outrageous style, she was a frequent target of rumors, most of them untrue.
“I’d like to check it out for myself,” Haley said. “Do you know the URL?”
“Sure,” Annie said. “But I’ve heard you have to use a password to see the good stuff.”
“. . . I just wish I knew for sure whether those blueberries had been washed before I ate them,” Dave was muttering, scratching at his shirt sleeves. “I could have ingested tiny microscopic spiders—they burrow into your stomach lining and set up camp there for years, living off your undigested food.”
“Ew,” Haley said.
“I’m sure the blueberries were spider-free,” Annie reassured him, patting Dave’s hand.
“Mr. Von doesn’t wash things like he should,” Dave said. “I mean Rick. He said to call him Rick. But I still think of him as Mr. Von. What kind of father is that? Mr. Father? Where’s my real father? I think I need to find my real father. That’s it. My real father would never let me eat unwashed blueberries. Real fathers protect you from danger—”
What If ... Your Past Came Back to Haunt You Page 6
