“Let me see if I have any Tic Tacs or whatever,” Rachel said, and she opened her purse. A Ziploc baggie with three cookies fell out.
“Fuck yes!” Gertie said, grabbing the bag. She pulled out a cookie and pitched the other to Sivan, who caught it happily.
“Wait—” Rachel protested, but they were already shoving the cookies in their mouths.
“This is so good,” Sivan said.
“Oh my God,” Gertie said. “I loooove this. Thanks, Rachel.”
“Oh, boy,” Rachel said. “Oh, boy.”
“Aren’t you gonna eat one?” Gertie asked through a mouthful of cookie.
“Um,” Rachel said. “Sure.” She took a tiny bite, barely even a crumb, and pretended to chew it. Ms. Deats saw what was happening and walked over.
“Rachel,” Ms. Deats said. “Is this about a diet? Because you know diets don’t work and we do not shame each other for food choices.”
“Oh, no, I hate diets,” Rachel said, forcing a little laugh.
“Then enjoy the cookie,” Ms. Deats said. “Self-
nourishment is very important. I don’t want you to think that just because I’m upset with you about last night, I don’t want you to enjoy yourself on your last day here.”
“Eat the cookie, Rachel,” Gertie said. “It’s amazing! Where’d you get these?”
Ms. Deats, Sivan, and Gertie looked at her expectantly.
“Oh, it’s a long story,” Rachel said faintly, and popped the cookie in her mouth.
“Ooh, looks like they’ve got breakfast ready!” Ms. Deats said happily.
They ate and ate and ate. Sivan and Gertie chattered a bit, but Rachel was uncharacteristically quiet.
“You okay?” Sivan asked, concerned.
“Fine,” Rachel said. “I’m just tired.”
“All right, everyone!” Mr. Kenner said. “Time to get on the bus and head to the White House!”
The bus ride to the White House took about thirty or forty minutes with all the D.C. rush hour traffic, and by the time she stepped off the bus, Gertie felt really good. Really relaxed. It was amazing what a nice breakfast with good friends could do to lighten one’s hangover. As they stood in line to meet their tour guide, she found herself smiling broadly at everyone—even Peighton, Kaylee, and Brooklynn, who shot her confused looks.
“Why is she looking at us?” Kaylee asked, loud enough for Gertie to hear.
Gertie’s heart swelled with love for this girl who had been her enemy until the previous evening’s détente.
“Because you’re beautiful,” Gertie said, and she meant it. She had never noticed how utterly angelic Kaylee’s features were before. She looked like something out of one of those Renaissance paintings, except prettier.
“Doesn’t Kaylee look like an angel, Rachel?” Gertie said, tapping her friend on the shoulder. “Rachel. Rachel. Rachel. Rachel. Rachel.” She had to say “Rachel” a few more times before Rachel turned around.
“Isn’t Kaylee beautiful?” Gertie said.
“Um, sure, yeah,” Rachel said, her eyes darting around nervously. “Definitely.” Then she turned back around and commenced staring at her feet.
“Weird,” Kaylee whispered to Peighton and Brooklynn. “I always thought the one that looks like a boy was the only lesbian.”
“Just because somebody thinks you’re pretty doesn’t make them gay,” Peighton said. “She was just being nice.”
Sivan watched this play out. Her eyes were heavy lidded, but she looked utterly fascinated.
“Cool,” Sivan said, dragging out the syllable. “Cooooooool.”
“You okay?” Peighton asked uncertainly.
“I know, right?” Sivan said, and started giggling. She didn’t stop until Ms. Deats introduced their tour guide, and even then Sivan had to keep a hand clamped over her mouth for a few minutes straight.
Gertie raised her hand when the tour guide asked if anyone had any questions.
“I do!” she sang. “I dooooo!”
“Oh, fuck,” Rachel muttered, still staring at her feet. “Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck.”
“Yes?” the tour guide asked with a friendly smile.
“Are we going to meet the president?” Gertie asked excitedly.
Everyone laughed. The chaperones shushed them. Gertie just smiled broadly, happy that they were all happy too.
“That’s actually our most common question,” said the tour guide, a handsome young man named DeShawn. “But the answer is no, unfortunately, the president doesn’t have enough time in his day to meet most people who come through the White House. Every once in a while we might catch a glimpse of him walking with his Secret Service team, but that’s VERY rare. It has only happened on one tour I’ve ever led, and that was two years ago.”
“Cooool,” Sivan said, and let out a giggle.
“It’s good to see such enthusiasm,” DeShawn said. “Everyone’s in a good mood today, huh?”
“Fuck,” Rachel muttered softly.
“I’m sorry, what was that, miss?” DeShawn asked. “Did you have a question?”
“Nothing,” Rachel said. “Sorry.”
“You okay, Rachel?” Ms. Deats.
“Yes,” Rachel said.
“Okay, good,” Ms. Deats said. She gave Rachel a quizzical look, but Rachel was staring at the ground again.
DeShawn led them into the first room on the tour and began explaining the significance of a particular painting. It was lost on Gertie, Sivan, and Rachel. Gertie was busy appreciating the intricate beauty of the carpet on which they stood. Sivan was peering around at everyone’s faces and giggling when they noticed her looking. Rachel was staring at her feet. Hard.
After a few rooms full of ornate decorations and, of course, lots of American history, Gertie realized something: she really had to pee. She crept over to Ms. Deats and smiled at her adoringly.
“Yes, Gertie?” Ms. Deats asked.
“You’re so pretty,” Gertie said.
“Oh, my!” Ms. Deats said, blushing. “Well, thank you, Gertie.”
She paused, and Gertie smiled at her sweetly.
“Was there something else, Gertie?” Ms. Deats asked.
“I have to pee real bad,” Gertie said.
“Well, we’ll take a bathroom break when DeShawn says we can,” Ms. Deats said. DeShawn overheard her.
“We’re actually coming up on the public restroom right now,” he said. “It’s the perfect time for a bathroom break.”
It turned out that nobody had to use the boys’ room except for Carter Bump and Brock Chuddford, who was asking Carter tons of questions about everything DeShawn was saying (by this point in the trip, Carter knew a little bit about how to translate things into Brock-speak, and he even found himself saying things he didn’t usually say, like “bro” and “chill.” Rachel found it adorable, but in a different way than she’d previously found Carter Bump adorable.) And nobody had to use the girls’ room but Gertie, Sivan, and Rachel.
Gertie floated into the restroom. Sivan tripped, letting out a snort of laughter. And Rachel shuffled in and quickly took refuge in a stall.
“I feel so amazing,” Gertie said as she peed. “Don’t you girls feel amazing?”
“Totally,” Sivan said, laughing. “This is the best trip ever. I heard they have a gender-netural restroom somewhere in the White House. Did you know that? Isn’t that cool?”
“Um,” Rachel said.
“What, Rach?” Gertie asked. She felt very warm inside, and really full but also kind of light at the same time? Like her skin was made of air? Like that. Whatever that felt like.
“That cookie,” Rachel said.
“What about the cookie?” Gertie asked. “It was so good!”
“It had, um,” Rachel started, and then she said something unintelligible.
“What?” Sivan asked.
“It had drugs in it,” Rachel whispered. “They were hash cookies. I was going to tell you, but you grabbed them so fast and then Ms.
Deats was there so I couldn’t tell you the truth.”
“What?” Gertie said, aghast. “What? Are you fucking kidding me?”
Sivan started laughing and laughing.
“What the FUCK!” Gertie’s feel-good haze was gone, replaced with anger and swirling anxiety. She slammed her way out of the stall, and came face-to-face with the cuntriad.
“You guys did drugs?” Brooklynn said, a slow smile spreading across her face. “Like, at the White House?”
Rachel and Sivan came out of their stalls at the sound of her voice. Rachel looked terrified. Sivan stopped giggling and looked frightened.
“Did you buy drugs in the White House?” Kaylee asked, fascinated.
“No,” Rachel said. “We would never do that. We’re not on drugs. We’re just, um … we are just tired.”
“Sure you are,” Peighton said, grinning at the girls. The cuntriad finished washing their hands and filed out of the bathroom.
“Oh, nooooo,” Sivan said, grabbing her head. “Oh, noooo. Oh no oh no oh nooooo.”
“We’re gonna get expelled,” Rachel said dully. “We are. This is it. This is the end.”
“I can’t believe you gave me a fucking drug cookie!” Gertie said. “I feel so fucking betrayed.”
“It was an accident!” Rachel said. She looked almost ready to cry.
“Oh noooo,” Sivan said. “Oh noooo. Oh nooo.”
“Where did you even get hash cookies?” Gertie asked.
“I bought them off the preacher’s kid who made us the fake IDs,” Rachel said. “He dabbles in marijuana baking on the side. I was gonna ask if you wanted to get high, but then the cookies fell out and you just grabbed them and—I couldn’t stop you!”
“Oh nooo,” Sivan said. “Oh no.” She was pacing back and forth. She definitely wasn’t giggling anymore.
“And now we’re high in the fucking White House!” Gertie said, feeling the panic crawl from her stomach to her throat. “I cannot believe you. This is the worst thing ever. We are not friends anymore!”
“Don’t say that!” Rachel said, and she started to cry for real.
“True,” Sivan said, pacing. “True. True. True.”
“What are we gonna do?” Gertie asked hysterically.
They were all quiet for a moment. Then Sivan looked at them.
“We’re gonna make a run for it,” she said.
“If we run away, how will we eat?” Gertie asked tearfully.
“We’ll hunt and gather,” Sivan whispered to her own reflection in the mirror. “Like the Native Americans.”
“We can hide somewhere in D.C. until we’re not high anymore,” Rachel said. “And then—and then we’ll go home.”
“How?” Gertie asked. “How will we go home?”
“I don’t know,” Rachel said. “We can hitchhike. Or ride bikes. Maybe we can rent bikes. We just—we need to get out of here.” She was panicking too. They all were.
The restroom had two entrances, as it was located between two separate hallways. Rachel walked swiftly and with great purpose out the entrance that they had not used. The girls followed her and were immediately swept up in a group of reporters who were being herded into some room. Gertie and Sivan didn’t know where Rachel was going, but she sure seemed to, so they followed her as she made a left down one hallway and a right down another, and then doubled back and went down yet another hallway, and suddenly there was a big glass door before them and Rachel pulled it open and they were suddenly in some kind of garden.
“Where the fuck are we?” Gertie cried. “All I see are rosebushes.”
“Oh, God,” Sivan said. “Oh God oh God oh God.”
“Quick!” Rachel said. “Let’s hide! Let’s hide!” She dragged the girls behind a shrub, where they crouched, holding one another and shaking.
“This is the worst thing we’ve ever done in our whole lives,” Gertie moaned. “This like a legit, real federal offense. Our parents are gonna kill us. Ms. Deats is gonna kill us. Mr. Kenner is definitely gonna kill us.”
“I am so sorry,” Rachel said, getting choked up again. “They’re probably going to try us as adults. Oh God. I hate being sixteen. Where did our childhoods go?”
“It’s okay,” Gertie said, breaking down. “I love you girls.”
“Love,” Sivan said, tears running down her face. “Lots of love. Lots of love.”
They all hugged and cried.
“Maybe we can stay out here for a while and just figure shit out,” Rachel said. “We can just stay out here for like a few minutes or hours or days or something. We can build a shelter, and we can just live here. We can huddle together at night for warmth.”
“It is a pretty nice place to live,” came a male voice. “Though I prefer living in the White House itself, rather than the Rose Garden.”
The girls looked up and squinted. The man’s head moved to block the sun, and he peered curiously down at them. They recognized him immediately.
“Holy fucking shit,” Rachel said. “Is that the motherfucking president?”
“It is indeed,” he said. “Now the question is, who are you and what are you doing in my Rose Garden?”
“Where are Gertie, Rachel, and Sivan?” Brian asked. “It’s kind of been a while.”
“They were in the bathroom,” Alicia said. “Brooklynn, did you see them?”
“Yeah, but we just went to wash our hands and fix our hair,” Brooklynn said.
“Did anything seem different? Did they seem sick?” Alicia asked.
Brooklynn opened her mouth, but Peighton cut in.
“They were fine,” she said. “Totally normal. They’re probably still in there.”
“Okay,” Alicia said, taking a deep breath. “Mr. Kenner, I’m going to the girls’ room to find them.”
“Of course,” Brian said.
Alicia speed-walked to the bathroom and threw open the door.
There was no one inside.
“Oh, fuck,” she said.
This was, to put it lightly, not fucking good.
She went back to Brian and whispered the news to him. Brian’s face was ashen.
“Okay,” he murmured. “Let’s tell DeShawn.”
“Oh, no,” Alicia said, her heart beating fast, the nausea beginning to swirl. “What if this gets into the press? ‘Flemington High School Students Lost in White House?’”
“Let’s deal with one crisis at a time,” Brian said soothingly. “We can handle this. We’ll find them. This is the most heavily protected tourist destination in the United States. They probably just wandered off with another tour group. And hey, if after all this we still get fired—more time to catch up on Doctor Who.”
Alicia looked at him. Was he really making a joke at a time like this?
He was.
She couldn’t figure out if she wanted to hit him or kiss him.
Alicia rushed to tell DeShawn what was going on.
“We just lost them,” Alicia said. “They went to the bathroom and then they just disappeared. I … I feel terrible.”
“Ma’am,” DeShawn said after she explained the situation. “I’m sure they just wandered off in the wrong direction by mistake. It does happen. But this is a security issue. I’m going to have to alert the Secret Service.”
“I was afraid you were going to say that,” Alicia said with a sigh.
“So you’re the president,” Rachel said with wonder. They were sitting in the Oval Office, the girls on an elegant sofa, the president in a chair that was probably worth like fifty thousand dollars.
“I am indeed,” said the president.
“No shit,” Gertie said, propping her chin up in her hand. “That is fucking crazy.”
“I suppose it is, depending on your opinion of the campaign we ran,” the president said with a smile. “Let me get you girls some water.” He gestured to an aide, who disappeared into another room and reappeared within an instant with bottles of water.
“People are always getting us bott
les of water,” Rachel said to Gertie. “Like last night, with Octavia Thunderpussy.”
“I know, right?” Gertie said. “It’s really nice.”
Sivan said nothing. She was staring very intently at the president.
“So, I’m the president,” he said. “We’ve established that. And you all are—”
“Should we tell him our names?” Gertie whispered loudly to Sivan and Rachel. Sivan shrugged. Rachel appeared to mull it over.
“I can find out pretty easily,” the president said. “You know that, right?”
“That’s a solid point,” Sivan said, nodding. “Yeah. We should tell him who we are.”
“I’m Gertie,” said Gertie.
“I’m Rachel,” said Rachel.
“I’m Sivan,” said Sivan. “And I have some thoughts I’d like to share with you on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict.”
“You and everybody else who comes through this office,” the president said.
“Yes, but mine are correct,” Sivan said.
“Fair enough,” said the president. “Go right ahead.”
While Sivan expounded on her theory of an integrated one-state solution, Rachel and Gertie drank their water and smiled. Then Rachel noticed something on the wall and gasped.
“Is that JF fucking K?” she demanded, pointing at a portrait.
“Well, we don’t call him that exactly,” the president said, smiling. “But yes, that’s President Kennedy. A real American hero.”
“Didn’t he totally have sex with Marilyn Monroe, like, in the White House?” Rachel asked.
“I’m not sure about that,” the president said. “I think it’s fair to say he had some adventures in his day. I think that much is a matter of public record.” He cleared his throat. “So, what brings you young women to the capital?”
“Well, this is our school trip,” Gertie said.
“Wonderful!” the president said. “You know, a lot of American high schools go on their senior class trip to Washington, D.C. And education is one of my biggest priorities, especially the education of women and girls. You going to college later this year?”
“Georgetown,” all three girls said in unison. They looked at each other and tried not to giggle. Sivan slapped a hand over her mouth again and snorted into it.
DC Trip Page 18
