Bridgeport Academy #2

by AshleyValentine

  “What about Parker Soong?” Naomi offered. Parker was a junior from Taiwan who could often be seen with a guitar and was supposedly a Taiwanese pop star, though he didn’t talk about it. The girls had Googled him once last year and discovered that there were hundreds of Web sites run by rabid teenage fans in Taiwan sharing gossip, photos, sightings, and wondering what his life was like at the private boarding school he attended in the States. It was very surreal. “He’s got those great soccer legs, even if he sings a cappella.”

  “He’s a possibility,” Jade mused, wondering what a Taiwanese pop star would be like to kiss. Maybe they did it differently there. She stood up and walked over to the antique oak mirror to examine her eyebrows for errant hairs. One of Jade goals for herself—one she never would have shared with her adviser—was to make out with someone from every single country on earth. Or at least the ones she could get to without a parachute or a dogsled. And what about that really tall guy she’d seen coming out of the woods with Amir and the other boys? Whatever his name was, he wouldn’t be a freshman forever. He could go on the list.

  “You know who has to be first? The pizza guy,” Crystal said eagerly, still thinking about his warm brown eyes and tousled dark hair. He’d always smell like fresh pizza, which would be even better than having to eat it. “Toss me my polish?” Crystal asked Jade, who was standing close enough to Crystal’s dresser to grab her nail polish.

  “Angelo,” Jade said, handing the pale pink polish over. “Yes.” The other girls stared at her, wondering how she knew his name. “I asked,” she said simply. “Thought it might come in handy.”

  “Sounds like we’re going to have a pizza party, then,” Naomi said, not wanting to sound like she was too immature for this sort of thing, though she was having doubts. How weird was it to hook up with someone you hardly even knew? She watched as Crystal expertly reapplied the polish to the bitten-down nails on her left hand.

  “Guess we’d better decide who we’d like to invite into Café Society since it shouldn’t just be us,” Jade observed.

  “Bree, of course,” Naomi replied, taking the polish from Crystal when it was time to do her right-hand fingers. Since they’d skipped practice and then dinner, Naomi hadn’t seen Bree since that morning, and she suddenly felt guilty for leaving her new friend out. Especially since she’d been the one to basically tell Bree to avoid Crystal and the room for a little while. Naomi wondered if she was okay.

  Jade rolled her eyes toward Crystal and wrinkled her perfect nose. “But she’s a sophomore.”

  “Yeah, but she’s cool,” Naomi argued defensively. There was just something about Bree—this sort of warmth—that made Naomi miss her when she wasn’t around.

  “Is she?” Jade pretended to examine the white tips of her French-manicured fingernails. “I mean, I haven’t really talked to her. What do you think, Crys?”

  “Do you think there’s something going on between her and Zane?” Crystal asked hesitantly.

  “We’d know about it, wouldn’t we?” Naomi responded logically, though she didn’t really sound convinced. “I mean, she lives with us. Anyway, it would be cruel to leave her out of Café Society.”

  Crystal shrugged. It was hard to know if Bree was a serious threat. “What about Benny? She needs to be in on this too.”

  “And Celine, and Alison. And Emily?” Naomi said.

  “Ugh. Emily is so annoying. Let’s leave her out.” Jade made a face. “We should probably let Sage Francis in, even though she can be a bitch. She’s kind of fun.”

  “What about Verena Arneval?” asked Crystal. Verena was a senior from Buenos Aires whose mother was the producer of a beloved Argentine soap opera. She had a sexy accent and a super-short pixie haircut and always wore dresses and heels, like an old-fashioned film star. “She’s cool,” said Crystal.

  The three of them looked up at the sound of voices in the hallway. “See you in class,” Bree called as she opened the door to Dumbarton 303. She almost jumped when she saw her three roommates staring at her.

  “Oh! Hey, guys…” Bree glanced at Naomi. “What’s going on?” She stood in the doorway for a moment, worried she’d walked in on something private. She stuck her hands into the pockets of her wool cardigan. “Am I interrupting something? Cause I can go brush my teeth or…”

  “No, come on in,” Naomi said, patting the bed next to her. “You’re definitely included in this.” Naomi shot a glance at Jade, and the two of them held each other’s gaze for a long, awkward moment. Bree pretended not to notice and sank down on Naomi’s bed.

  “Yes,” Jade began after a long pause. “We’re starting up our own secret society. And we wanted to extend the invitation to you.” She flashed Bree a generous smile, and Bree’s heart thumped. Jade wanted to include her? Bree had to suppress an urge to jump up and hug everyone in the room—she was in! Of course, she knew that wouldn’t be the coolest thing to do, so she managed to restrain herself, though she couldn’t resist rubbing her hands together in excitement.

  “A secret society?” she asked giddily. “That sounds like so much fun.”

  “That’s the idea.” Jade tossed her long, dark hair over her shoulders and leaned back against the pillows on her bed. Like Cleopatra, Bree thought. “But we did want to talk about something with you first.”

  Bree’s stomach dropped. Of course it couldn’t be that easy. She should have known there would be a hitch, like Jade wanted her to be the society’s janitor or something.

  Crystal hopped up abruptly and headed to her dresser. She picked up her boar bristle brush and started to brush her hair, but Bree could tell she was watching her in the mirror.

  “We all know how dangerous rumors can be,” Jade continued. “How they can end up hurting everyone involved. And I just feel—and I’m sure you agree—that we should probably clear the air about one rumor in particular.” Jade paused for dramatic effect and smiled at Naomi and Bree. “Bree, I know that Crystal asked you to flirt with Zane so that she wouldn’t get busted for having him in this room. And it was very nice of you to oblige and help keep Crystal out of trouble.” Jade glanced at Crystal. “But the thing is, it’s all over now—no one got in trouble. Yet I’m still sort of hearing things about you and Zane.” Jade pursed her lips and stared directly at Bree. “Is there anything we should know?”

  Bree’s jaw almost dropped. Anything they should know? Like, how badly Bree wanted to kiss Zane? To run her hands through his hair? That she was—eek!—going to go riding with him on Sunday? “Uh, no…I mean, Zane’s cool. I like him.” And before she could stop herself, the words kept tumbling out of her mouth. “I mean, as a friend. You know, we’re in art class together. But that’s it.”

  Jade nodded but didn’t say anything. Crystal continued to brush her hair and watch Bree in the mirror. Bree couldn’t bear to look at Naomi, who knew about her crush on Zane but wasn’t saying anything.

  Bree felt herself start to panic, and she wasn’t exactly thinking straight. This moment, with the four of them hanging out in their dorm room, getting ready for bed, was the sort of scenario she had dreamed about—she had to be in their secret society. This was her chance to be one of them. How could she let it slip through her fingers?

  “Come on,” Bree said reasonably. “Zane could never be interested in me like that, anyway. Not after you, Crystal.” Bree almost choked on the words, they were so hard to say. But she wasn’t making it up—she sort of believed it as she was saying it. “You’re like a movie star. I’m just…me.”

  Crystal’s nose twitched as she looked at her own reflection. Bree could picture her thinking it over, maybe even imagining how silly Zane would look with her, short-little-I’m-just-me Bree Hargrove. Bree bit her lip.

  Crystal spun around abruptly and gave Jade a sly grin. “She’s right. Zane is a little tall for her.” The two of them shared the same satisfied look on their faces, and Bree suddenly felt a hundred times worse than she had before she’d opened her b
ig fat mouth.

  “Good.” Jade clapped. “That’s settled, then. Welcome to Café Society, Bree. I know we’re going to end up great friends.”

  Bree bit her lip even harder. Somehow she wasn’t so sure.

  To: CrystalAlexander@Bridgeport.edu,

  NaomiPeterson@Bridgeport.edu;

  SageFrancis@Bridgeport.edu;

  CelineColista@Bridgeport.edu;

  BennyCunningham@Bridgeport.edu;

  AlisonQuentin@Bridgeport.edu;

  BreeHargrove@Bridgeport.edu;

  VerenaArneval@Bridgeport.edu

  From: JadeCarmichael@Bridgeport.edu

  Date: Friday, September 13, 10:05 a.m.

  Subject: Café Society

  My dearest, loveliest, ever-gorgeous friends,

  You are all officially invited on a new adventure called Café Society, a secret club for only the most interesting and charming Bridgeport Owls. We are young and sexy creatures. Our society mantra is: Dress it. Act it. Be it. Flaunt it.

  First unofficial meeting takes place tomorrow. 7 p.m. sharp. Ritoli’s.

  Please note: Proper attire required. Boyfriends are grounds for immediate expulsion. Bring your favorite beverages (incognito) and your sense of mischief.

  Yours in love and misbehavior,

  JC

  To: RufusHargrove@poetsonline.com

  From: BreeHargrove@Bridgeport.edu

  Date: Friday, September 13, 5:55 p.m.

  Subject: THANK YOU!

  Dear Dad,

  I am running to dinner right now, but get this: I’m emailing you FROM MY NEW PHONE. How awesome is that??? Thank you sooooo much. I promise to write more over the weekend.

  Love you,

  Bree

  P.S. Tell Yasmine I say thank you too!

  P.P.S. I always liked those rainbow suspenders. No, seriously!

  EricDalton: Got your email. Interesting field trip idea.

  JadeCarmichael: I thought you might be into it.

  EricDalton: Yes, very…

  14

  Jade stepped into the Bridgeport dining hall ten minutes before the Friday night dinner hour officially ended, fully aware that people had been waiting for her to appear. The dining hall was an exquisite building with cavernous cathedral ceilings and brightly colored stained glass windows, enormous oak tables, and heavy padded oak chairs that many of the smaller girls had difficulty pulling out. The entrance was at the exact opposite side of the hall as the food service area, so once you entered, you still had to cross the room in front of hundreds of watching eyes to pick up your tray and start piling on chicken cordon bleu or whatever dreck was being served that evening. Jade didn’t give it a second thought, whereas most people who walked into the dining hall alone were acutely aware of the long, tortuous journey they had to make before they could hide themselves behind the enormous plastic cereal containers.

  She took in the scene, her eyes scanning the tables expertly for the faces of her friends. She spotted Benny and Naomi and the boys at one of their usual long tables near the fireplace. She gave them a nod, being careful not to look at Naomi, and continued toward the food line.

  She picked up one of the beige plastic trays and noticed Maurice Johnson waiting to be dished a plate of steaming eggplant parmesan. The sight of his tight butt in his Adidas track pants with the white stripes down the side made Jade smile. She stepped up close behind him and said in a throaty voice, directly into his ear, before he could turn around, “Guess who?”

  Maurice chuckled as he reached for the plate from the dining hall worker and set it down on his tray. “You’re not going to fool me with that voice, Jade. I hear it in my dreams. If you want to pull down my pants, you just have to ask.”

  Jade groaned, and Maurice turned around, his dark eyes blinking lazily as he focused on her apple-red lips. Jade bumped her hip against his, then slid her tray down the metal rails toward the green beans.

  Lon Baruzza stood behind the glass counter in front of the giant tub of beans, holding an enormous spoon and wearing a white apron and a Notre Dame cap. He was a scholarship kid from Chicago, and Jade was always pleased to see him, even if the poor guy had to schlep beans onto plates for spoiled-rotten rich kids—he was much cuter than any of the other dining hall workers.

  “I see you’re in charge of the beans today,” Jade said. “Is that a promotion from yesterday’s creamed corn?”

  “Nah,” said Lon, who, even though he was dating Tricia Rieken, clearly liked handing a plate of food to Jade. “It’s actually a demotion—they caught me smoking on my break yesterday. So only green vegetables for me from now on.”

  “That’s good,” said Jade. “I only took the corn yesterday because I wanted to say hi. I prefer beans.” As he handed her a plate over the counter, she flashed him her ultra-flirtatious smile and glanced around for Maurice, who had moved on to the hamburger station, obviously sulking that she was talking to Lon. She smiled to herself. One of her great pleasures in life was flirting with boys in front of other boys. It made them realize they had no claims on her.

  She slid her tray next to Maurice’s as he struggled with an unwieldy pair of tongs to try and pick up a sesame bun and pretended not to notice her approach. Eventually he gave up and grabbed it with his hand.

  “Gross,” said Jade. “Those are there for a reason, so guys like you don’t get their grubby paws all over other people’s food.” She expertly maneuvered the tongs and dropped a bun on her plate.

  “Oh, didn’t notice you were there. Thought you were still flirting with Baruzza,” Maurice said in mock surprise. She could tell he wasn’t really bothered by it—Maurice was her male counterpart, always knowing when to flash his devastating grin and when to give a playful wink. If anyone understood the thrill behind harmless flirtations, he did.

  “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’ll never talk to another boy again. Happy?” Jade stabbed an overcooked garden burger with the extra-long fork and let it drop onto her plate. Ever since her father had produced a documentary about slaughterhouses when she was eight, Jade couldn’t eat any sort of red meat. It gave her the creeps. Unfortunately, the decision not to buy leather didn’t come so easily.

  “You’re just pissed at me because we won’t let you join our secret society.” Maurice winked at her over his shoulder as he headed to the fountain soda machine, plucked a glass from the towering stack, and filled it halfway with Pepsi, then filled it the rest of the way with Dr Pepper. Jade followed him and filled her glass with Diet Pepsi.

  “Not exactly. I just went ahead and started my own. Girls only.”

  “What are you going to do—have tickle fests? In your underwear?” Maurice licked his lips at the thought.

  “A little more sophisticated than that. And a little racier.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Maurice said, liking the sound of that. “Maybe our secret societies should have a secret meeting together. Someplace sexy and off-limits.” Maurice sounded like he had been joking when he started the thought, but then a dreamy look came across his face, as if suddenly he was visualizing a secret meeting where Jade and Bree and the other girls, in their bras and panties, smacked each other with expensive feather pillows, their hair getting all tousled and staticky. “Like Boston. We’ll rent out a couple of suites at the Ritz-Bradley.”

  Jade set her glass down on her tray. She had a vision of two enormous, stylish suites at the Ritz, the door connecting them wide open as girls in flapper dresses and boys in tuxes flitted back and forth, passing around flutes of champagne and sharing elegant, chic embraces. “That might just be the best idea you’ve ever had, Johnson.”

  Maurice continued. “We could all wear costumes!”

  “Whoa, now you’re getting away from me.”

  “Seriously. Don't you remember that year Kim Kardashian dressed up as Wonder Woman? That was like the sexiest thing ever.” Maurice set down his tray and stared at Jade objectively. “You would make a great Wonder Woman. You
’ve got the body. And the hair.” Maurice took the opportunity to reach out and touch Jade’s long black locks. She batted his hand away, although she could definitely imagine herself as a comic book hero, with black waves of hair highlighted with blue. And wearing a hot little outfit, of course. “And the Ritz will be like our League of Justice.”

  She stared at him blankly. “Our League of Justice?”

  “You know, our headquarters. Our home base. For our missions?”

  “Now you’re starting to scare me. Can we get serious for a moment? We need to make this happen.” Jade grabbed some silverware from the plastic tubs and glanced up toward their table of friends, who were finishing their meal by now. Crystal waved.

  “I’m totally with you.” Maurice agreed. “Next weekend, at the Ritz. We can book suites right next to each other.”

  “We’ll dress up. Not as superheroes,” she added quickly, noticing Maurice’s excitement. “Just dressy.” She thought slyly of the outfit she was planning on wearing on her New York City date with Dalton—the sexy, coral chiffon flapper dress, its snug-fitting torso and flouncy skirt covered with delicate silver beading.

  “Trust me. There’s nothing sexier than Wonder Woman’s leotard.”

  “That may be. But we’re going for something a little more sophisticated.”

  Maurice shook his head. “Not possible.”

  “I have to say, I’ve never seen this side of you before, Maurice.”

  “What side?”

  “This geek side.”

  Maurice pretended to growl at her. “Do not start ragging on comic books. Please. I think highly of you and don’t want that to change.”

  Jade smiled. She liked that Maurice wasn’t afraid she’d think he was a dork. And it was endearing that he got so excited at the thought of Wonder Woman in her leotard. Maybe one day she’d have to get that outfit just to give him a heart attack. She looked around and noticed that Benny, Crystal, Donovan, and Teague were all watching the two of them, wondering why they weren’t coming over to the table. “Let’s go sit down. We’ll talk about this later, Batman.”