How could I have known when I planned a brief visit to New York after I finished up at Yale that I would meet a girl and fall in love? And not just any girl—you. It would be impossible to describe my feelings, so I dashed out and bought you two little somethings to go with the necklace. Promise me you’ll wear them all when I see you next, which should be only a few weeks away if you’d be so kind as to get your gorgeousness on the flight I so presumptuously booked a ticket for—first class, of course. It’s in two weeks, which gives you ample time to buy a whole new wardrobe, have a series of facials or treatments or whatever you do to keep yourself looking as stunning as you always do. Sorry for running out on you like this, but it’s your graduation-from-high-school party, the only one you’ll ever have, and I didn’t want to put a damper on it by saying goodbye. All right, I’m off. Please come to England. I shall miss you.
Love for always,
Marcus
Porsha snatched the black velvet box off the white-painted bureau and pried it open. Two perfect, enormous round pearls glowed back at her, each dangling from a gold cursive P—the earrings to match the necklace. She ripped out her boring pearl studs and put in the Gucci ones.
Dearest darling Porsha.
It seemed highly doubtful that Marcus was engaged to some overweight, big-nosed, blue-blooded duchess if he’d bought Porsha a plane ticket to travel to England to meet his mum. Judging from his impeccable stationery, Lord Marcus was a bona fide lord, too. And judging from the note and the plane ticket and the pearls, he truly loved her.
Opening the top drawer of the bureau, she tucked the plane ticket alongside her favorite black lace bra. Contrary to popular belief, there’s nothing like a mysterious departure to pique a girl’s interest.
42
Chanel’s long silky hair was matted with sweat and her yellow dress clung to her skin like wet tissue paper. She’d been dancing for an hour and she could barely stand up. Yasmine was leaning against the wall, chugging from a bottle of watter, her cheeks wet with exertion. Chanel joined her, grabbing the water out of her friend’s hand and pouring it down her throat.
“You haven’t seen Mekhi, have you?” Yasmine asked breathlessly. Now that she was finished dancing, it might be fun to find a quiet nook in the club somewhere and make out with Mekhi for a while.
“Nope,” Chanel remarked. The two girls surveyed the room, their eyes stinging with the salt from their sweat. A group of gray-uniform-wearing tenth-grade boys from some Catholic school were making a human pyramid with Jaylen Harrison on top, even though he weighed as much as all of them combined. One of the L’École girls had taken off her halter top and was dancing by herself in the corner, smoking a joint and strumming a guitar, a sun, moon, and stars tattoo standing out on her shoulder blade.
“This party is weird,” Yasmine observed.
“Have you seen Kaliq?” Chanel asked. She vaguely remembered arriving with him, but she hadn’t seen him since. She squinted, half expecting to find Kaliq weeping at the bar, but she couldn’t see him anywhere.
Porsha stepped away from the bar, a fresh flute of bubbling champagne in her hand and a fresh cigarette dangling from the antique cigarette holder between her glossed lips, looking like a character out of an old movie. Chanel pushed herself away from the wall and went over to her.
“I love your pearls.”
Porsha decided not to spit in Chanel’s face or scratch her almond shaped eyes out. “They’re from Marcus.”
Chanel nodded, about to say something about what an amazing guy Marcus was, but she was distracted. “You haven’t seen Kaliq, have you?”
Porsha took a long sip of champagne and blew smoke into the air. She’d been busy accepting gifts from her mysterious royal beau. She didn’t have time to keep track of Kaliq’s erratic whereabouts. “Not really.”
Chanel scanned the room with her eyes. “He’s been acting strange,” she remarked, chewing on her thumbnail. “Don’t you think so?”
Again, Porsha really didn’t have an opinion on the subject. The moss green sweater was where she’d left it, folded on a chair nearby. “I guess,” she allowed.
That tiny big-chested ninth grader, Bree Hargrove, stepped out of the alcove where the men’s room was, her curly hair slightly askew and her mouth red and swollen, as if from too much kissing. She paused and held out her hand, as if to a child. Then Kaliq appeared, looking happily disoriented. Bree put her arm around his waist, and he turned and kissed her eagerly on the mouth, as if her lips were made of chocolate or something.
“Oh!” Chanel exclaimed, as if she’d been pinched. She blinked her eyes, trying to decide whether she was truly hurt or just surprised. It had never felt right, her and Kaliq being together. And it would be better to be single this summer so she could focus on the film. At least now she wouldn’t have to bother breaking up with him. Not that they’d ever really been together.
No, not really.
“Typical,” Porsha scoffed. She shook a Merit Ultra Light out of her pack and handed it to Chanel. “Don’t be mad. He can’t help himself.”
Chanel took the cigarette and propped it between her lips, waiting for Porsha to light it for her. “I’m not mad,” she sighed, feeling relieved. For once, she and Porsha were bonding over Kaliq instead of fighting over him. It was a welcome change. “Will you loan me that for the movie?” She pointed at Porsha’s cigarette holder, suddenly changing the subject. “Although I’ll probably set my ass on fire if I try to use it. I’m such a klutz.”
Porsha loved it when Chanel put herself down. It gave her hope. “Of course I will.”
Instinctively the two girls turned as someone careened toward them from across the room. Kaliq’s face was slack, his green eyes were huge, and his body seemed more loose-limbed than usual. He came at them with his arms open, grabbed Chanel, and pulled her into an even gooier kiss than he’d just given Bree. Chanel pushed him away. “Kaliq!”
But he was unflappable. Letting go of Chanel, he reached for Porsha, pressed his wet lips against hers and sort of inhaled her entire mouth.
“What the fuck?” Porsha exclaimed, stepping backward to free herself.
Kaliq just stood between the two girls, smiling like the luckiest guy on earth. “We’re all too beautiful,” he said by way of explanation. “I can’t stop kissing us.”
Porsha met Chanel’s gaze. Yes, Kaliq was acting strange. He was off his tits, as they say in England. Still, there was something infectious about his puppy-like exuberance. They’d just graduated today. Why not act a little strange? And why not kiss everybody? Some of them might never be together again.
And some of them were going to be together quite a lot.
“You want to see something really cool?” Porsha asked, cocking her right eyebrow in a way that all the underclassmen at Emma Willard had spent hours trying to imitate. She stepped forward and put her hands on Chanel’s bare shoulders. Immediately, Chanel understood what they were about to do. The two girls smiled, their heads drawing nearer and nearer to each other, as if in slow motion.
“You know you love me,” they murmured in unison before their lips met in a kiss.
The room grew noticeably silent as everyone stopped what they were doing and turned to stare, but the two girls kept on kissing. Was this some sort of gag, everyone wondered, some final senior hoax?
Maybe. Or maybe not.
Author's Note
Are Chanel and Porsha friends now, or lovers? Does that mean the old hot tub rumor is actually true?
Will Kaliq survive his summer of hard work and saintliness in the Hamptons, especially without Porsha and Chanel?
Will Yasmine get the Breakfast at Fred’s cinematography job? How will she tolerate the film’s madman director?
Are Yasmine and Mekhi actually together now? If so, will they last through the summer and beyond?
Will Mekhi learn to drive his vintage Buick, or will his hands be too sweaty to hold the wheel?
Will Porsha really go to England to
visit her handsome lord? Will she come back wearing a crown? Will she come back at all?
Will Chanel make Audrey Hepburn look like an amateur? More importantly, who will be her leading man?
Will we still hear about Bree, even when she’s off in Europe? And what about when she’s at boarding school?
Find out in the 9thbook of the Upper East Side series, which is out now! Also, if you'd like more updates and interaction with me you can contact me at the following:
Email: [email protected]
Twitter: AshValentine__
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I'd really appreciate your feedback so please leave reviews and tell me what you think!
Bridgeport Academy
Bree Hargrove is leaving Emma Willard to attend Bridgeport Academy, an elite boarding school where glamorous rich kids don’t let the rules get in the way of having a good time. Bree's determined to leave her crazy Manhattan past behind and become a sophisticated goddess on campus. But first she'll have to contend with her self-absorbed roommates, Crystal Alexander and Naomi Peterson. Sexy guys, new intrigue, and more delicious gossip all add up to more trouble than ever for Bree. But if getting caught with boys and going up against the Disciplinary Committee is what it takes, Bree is ready. She'll do all that and more to become the new it girl.
Stay tuned for the scandalous new series, Bridgeport Academy, coming out in May!
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Did you love Upper East Side 8? Then you should read Upper East Side 9 by Ashley Valentine!
Welcome to New York City's Upper East Side, where the girls are dazzling, the guys are gorgeous, and the summer heat is the perfect excuse to throw a fabulous roof-deck pool party. As if we need a reason! It's our last summer together before heading off to college, and things are sizzling—no, it's not just the weather. Despite that steamy kiss on graduation night, Porsha, Chanel, and Kaliq have gone their separate ways...though not for long. Porsha is off to London with her English Lord boyfriend, Chanel's about to become a movie star—as if she wasn't a star already!—and Kaliq's rolling up his well-worn khakis and heading to the Hamptons. Back in New York, Mekhi and Yasmine are rekindling their love. Fiery! Watch out, this summer is going to be hotter than ever.
Upper East Side #8 Page 17
