Bridgeport Academy #2

by AshleyValentine

  She knew she’d never see the same pieces of art in the same way again. They were more than her favorite paintings now. They were part of her most perfect day ever.

  24

  “I wish I didn’t have to give it back,” Jade pouted. She set down her martini on the bar’s glass top and slid the antique bracelet over her hand. “But thank you for letting me borrow it.”

  “My pleasure.” Eric smiled at her, and she held his gaze. They’d arrived at the hotel an hour earlier and taken a seat at the sleek hotel bar while the concierge had their bags sent to their suite. They were already on to their third martini, although they weren’t yet on their first kiss. “Now. Here’s to—”

  “Secrets,” Jade interrupted. After their flirtatious emails, she’d assumed they’d rip each other’s clothes off and do it in the back of Eric’s limo as soon as he picked her up. Instead, he’d asked her to tell him stories about her family and told her about his father and the stick up his ass. So far, the day together had been remarkably unsexy. She was ready to change all that, though. “Who doesn’t like a good secret?”

  Eric leaned toward her. “Well…I know I do.”

  There. That was a little better. “You must have some good ones,” Jade goaded him. For some reason, she wanted to hear him tell her that he liked Naomi but how that had changed the minute he laid eyes on her. She wanted to hear how much smarter and sexier and cooler she was.

  “Me? Nah.” He sat back, taking another sip from his glass. The bartender switched the music to some sultry jazz, as though he’d been reading her mind. “Though I’m sure you do.”

  “Hmmm…” She pretended to think. If he wasn’t going to come out with it, she could help him along. “Well, I have this friend, Naomi…”

  Eric cleared his throat. A six-foot model Jade recognized from last year’s Prada fashion show walked into the bar, but Eric didn’t take his eyes off her. “Jade, I—”

  “So it’s not my secret, exactly,” she went on, prying her eyes away from the model. “But she told everyone at Bridgeport her family saves puffins or something in Newfoundland, even though her dad is actually a liposuction specialist in New Jersey! Can you believe?”

  “She mentioned that once.” Eric looked around the dimly lit room nervously. “So I guess that’s not such a big secret.”

  Wait, what? That was Naomi’s biggest secret ever, and she’d told Eric? Eric Dalton? Jade was suddenly seized with a panicky feeling that maybe there was more to his fling with Naomi than she’d thought. Maybe he didn’t think she was sexier and more beautiful than Naomi. “I didn’t realize you were so close,” she murmured coldly.

  “Don’t be like that,” he scolded her, which she was surprised to enjoy. She felt suddenly like the naughty schoolgirl that she was. He reached over, cupped her chin in his hand, and met her gaze. “I’m sure people must tell you this all time, but you have the most beautiful eyes.”

  And with that, he leaned in to kiss her. As their lips met, she couldn’t help but think that yes, people did tell her that all the time. She was forever waiting for someone to tell her that the beauty mark hidden behind her ear was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen, but so far, no one had ever even noticed it. But as Eric slipped his hand down her neck and fingered the opening of her delicate navy wrap dress, she swept her thick dark hair behind her. She might as well give him the chance to see it, right?

  “Should we check out our suite?” he whispered breathily.

  “Let’s do that.”

  25

  By early evening, Bree and Zane were nestled into a cozy table at Balthazar, a posh and bustling Soho cafe where the waiter didn’t bat an eyelash when they ordered a pitcher of pinot noir. Bree leaned back on the red leather bench seat, enjoying the way Zane looked next to her in the high-ceilinged, dark, oak-paneled room. The tables were close together and filled with well-dressed hipsters enjoying drinks and gearing up for a night on the town. A giant, antique Parisian mirror hung above their heads. They ordered a plate of steak frites. Bree sipped her glass of wine.

  “I’m going to run outside and check my messages. Make sure Dalton hasn’t called to check up on me or anything.” He rolled his eyes. “I’ll be right back. Don’t eat all the fries without me, okay?”

  “I’m not promising anything.” Bree touched her hair, making sure her barrettes hadn’t fallen out, or it would be a mass of frizzies. “I dream about these fries.”

  “I’ll hurry.” He gave her a quick kiss on the lips. She was so kissable! It was nice to get off campus for once and to be alone with Bree without having to worry about Crystal hearing about it. He made his way through the tiny spaces between the crowded tables, thinking how nice it would be if he and Bree could go to a real Parisian cafe. His heart pounded as he started to think of her in his parents’ French apartment, lying on the small French bed, completely naked.

  As he stepped into the busy Soho street, throngs of evening shoppers bounded down the street carrying Bloomingdale’s signature brown paper bags and sleek black Barneys Co-op shopping bags. It took him a moment to recognize the girl standing in front of him, wearing a bohemian-looking chiffon wrap dress that was on the verge of unwrapping.

  Zane imagined the look on his face to be similar to the shocked one on Jade’s when she turned around and saw him. What the hell was she doing here? Jade quickly regained her composure, however, and pulled the cigarette out of her grinning red lips. “Thought you were on probation.”

  Zane stared at her and in a flash of memory recalled seeing Jade when he and Bree walked out of the woods together. So she had seen. “Are you going to tell on me again?”

  Jade narrowed her carefully made up eyes. She took another drag on her cigarette and thought for a moment, determined to choose her words carefully. “I know you’re here with Bree. I see her inside. But you know what?” Jade’s face quickly assumed a self-satisfied expression, and Zane clenched his fist in his pocket. “Bree just hooked up with somebody else last night. How’s that for a sweet little girlfriend?”

  Wait, what? For a minute, Zane’s stomach fell, but then he realized where this information was coming from—scheming Jade, bitter that she wasn’t the one everyone was talking about at the moment. “Fuck you. I don’t believe anything you have to say.” He pulled the door open to go back inside. “You’ve got some real issues, you know that?”

  “I’m not the only one.” Jade smiled sweetly at him, a smile that made his toes curl.

  Making, his way back to Bree, Zane forced himself to calm down. He just wanted to enjoy the rest of the day and forget about that jealous bitch outside. Of course she’d say something like that about Bree. She was sweet and kind and honest—three qualities one would never attribute to Jade.

  “Quick, sit down.” Bree grabbed Zane’s hand and pulled him into the booth. “Look!” Zane turned his head and looked out the window, expecting to see Jade’s lying eyes staring back at them. Instead, he caught a glimpse of Jade walking down Spring Street on someone’s arm. Dalton. “Do you think they saw us?” Bree asked, clearly worried about Zane’s probation.

  Zane nodded, still staring out the window. “They may have seen us, but I have an idea.” An idea he was definitely going to use to take Dalton down.

  26

  Zane always looked forward to his Wednesday morning Advanced French Literature, but today it was because it was the one class he shared with Naomi Peterson, and he needed her help. He had to get Dalton busted before Dalton got him expelled. Enter Naomi. She was class prefect. If she accused Dalton of something, everyone would listen.

  Madame Claubert stood at the front of the room, her long gray hair pulled into a clip at the back of her head. She was one of those older women whose beauty just seemed to sharpen and intensify with age. Her cheekbones were perfectly chiseled, her neck long and swanlike, her body as taut as a ballerina’s. French women were so sexy.

  “Monsieur Taylor, entrez.” She stood inside the door, waiti
ng to close it.

  “Bien sûr, madame.” Zane scooted inside and slid into the empty desk in front of Naomi. She gave him her typical raised-eyebrow half smile. Her chocolate skin had more of a glow to it than it had for most of the past week.

  “Thank you for joining us. Now we may get started.” She held a stack of papers and passed them out to each row. “Please pair up and answer the ten questions in this examen petit.” She clapped her thin hands together. “Dix minutes.”

  Zane spun around in his chair. “Mademoiselle Peterson. Will you do me the honor?”

  “Mais oui.” Naomi was wearing an army green sweater that made her eyes shimmer and a khaki skirt that came to midthigh. She looked totally cute and completely young and innocent. Zane could see why Dalton would be attracted to her, but how could he be slimy enough to act on it?

  “Listen…” Zane said when they had answered half the questions. He glanced at her sideways, trying to be subtle. He didn’t want to embarrass her or anything. “I heard stuff…But did anything ever actually happen between you and Mr. Dalton?”

  Naomi’s jaw dropped, revealing a platinum filling in one of her bottom molars that Zane had never noticed before. She pulled herself together quickly and gave Zane a withering glare that looked more defensive than angry. “Go to hell.”

  “No, no, I’m not trying to get you in trouble or anything,” Zane said quickly, his fingers twirling his fountain pen. “You know I wouldn’t do that.”

  Naomi eyed him suspiciously. What did he want, then? He looked so eager. Zane wasn’t normally much of a gossip. She bit her lip and pretended to scan the list of questions as Madame Claubert left the classroom. “So why are you asking?”

  “You’re probably not going to enjoy hearing this, but I ran into Jade in Soho yesterday.” He paused. “She was with Mr. Dalton.”

  Naomi let the words make their way to her brain slowly. She felt sick as their meaning registered. She knew it. She knew Jade was wearing Eric’s platinum link bracelet that night. How could she do that? Why? And Eric—she’d meant so little to him that the second Jade strutted along, he’d dropped her like last year’s Prada pumps? She was such an idiot.

  “What…jerks.” Naomi couldn’t think of anything stronger to say. The image of the two of them in bed in the penthouse at the Soho Grand filled Naomi with rage. What if she’d actually lost her virginity to Eric? Then suddenly all of her confusion quickly transformed into pure fury. He had lied to her. He didn’t think what they were doing was unethical—he just wanted to be doing it with Jade. “He should be arrested.”

  “There’s really no way to prove they’re together, though. Just because they were in New York together doesn’t mean…” He sighed.

  “It does mean that to anyone who knows Jade.” Naomi fiddled nervously with the tiny gold hoops in her ear. The ones Eric had kissed so sweetly. It was all part of his act, she thought angrily.

  Zane slumped in his chair. “And I wouldn’t want you to have to go public with your ordeal. I’m sure you’ve been through enough already.”

  The thought of having to tell the administration—in detail—what had happened between her and Eric—Mr. Dalton, whatever—made her feel totally sick. She shook her head. “Yeah, I don’t think I could do that.”

  Zane shrugged. “Then we’ve got to get him on something else.”

  Madame Claubert opened the classroom door. “Vite! Vite!” she yelled jovially. “Deux minutes!”

  Naomi tossed her hair and flipped through her copy of Le Rouge et le Noir. “Wait a second…” She dropped the book on her desk and clutched at Zane’s arm. “The time I was at his house, he had a bag of weed on his dresser. Maybe we can use that?”

  “But you couldn’t tell Marymount where you saw it.” Zane drummed his fingers on the wooden desk. “Unless…”

  “Unless…” Naomi continued, following Zane’s train of thought. “I say I went to his house to pick up some DC files and he offered to smoke it with me…I can say exactly where it is in his house, and…”

  Zane nodded, finishing her sentence: “And what’s Dalton going to say to that? He didn’t offer it to you, that you just saw it in his bedroom when you happened to be spending the night?”

  Naomi’s lips formed a giddy smile. “He wouldn’t risk denying it and having me come out with the truth. Can you imagine, a Dalton being charged with statutory rape?”

  Zane looked like he could have hugged her. “He’ll be forced to resign.”

  For the first time since the whole Eric Dalton saga began, she felt like she was in control. “Exactly.”

  After French class, Zane gave Naomi a good-luck pat on the back. She smiled bravely at him and marched directly to Marymount’s office in Stansfield Hall. Marymount’s secretary, Mr. Tomkins, a balding man who wore only floral ties, was sitting behind an oak desk when Naomi walked in. “Hello, Naomi dear.” Adults always seemed to like Naomi, and Mr. Tomkins treated her like she was the bright spot in his day. “What can I do for you?”

  Naomi straightened her shoulders and said in her most businesslike voice, “I’d like to speak with Dean Marymount, please.”

  Mr. Tomkins’s hand hesitated above the intercom as he prepared to buzz the dean. “What shall I tell him this is about?”

  “It’s confidential.” Naomi smiled apologetically. But not for long.

  27

  After Signor Giraldi finally released Jade’s advanced Italian class from their torturous lecture, Jade strode across the quad, the heels of her suede T-strap pumps stabbing into randomly scattered early-fallen leaves. She’d only returned from her date with Dalton a few hours ago, and she could still feel his lips on her neck. Even if she hadn’t been able to shock him with Naomi’s Jersey girl secret, well, she had certainly done her part for Crystal. It would only be a matter of hours before Zane would be called into Dean Marymount’s office to find Eric sitting there with a report that Zane had been in New York yesterday. Crystal would never have to see Zane again, and annoying sweet Bree would get exactly what she deserved. Jade had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling at the heady rush of power she felt. Jade Carmichael was back.

  She felt a pair of familiar eyes on her and turned to see a shaggy dreadhead boy sprawled lazily on the steps of the chapel. A slow grin spread across Maurice Johnson's face when he noticed that he’d gotten her attention. Jade immediately changed direction and sauntered toward the chapel, enjoying the way Maurice stared at her in her deep V-necked dress. The fine Italian silk fluttered against her skin, and Maurice’s eyes followed the sway of her hips as she strode up to him and placed her right foot on the bottom step. “What’s up, Johnson?”

  “Just enjoying the scenery.” Maurice stretched his arms into the air. He wore an artfully distressed tee with the word SUPERMAN emblazoned across it.

  Jade flicked a perfect pale pink nail against his cheek. “Like your shirt.”

  “Sit down,” Maurice offered, patting his lap.

  “Nice try.” Jade perched daintily on the step above Maurice, her bare knees adjacent to his face. He stared at them for a moment before scooting over to make room for her.

  “Are plans under way for this weekend?” she asked.

  “Ah, this weekend…but of course!” Maurice smacked his lips and rubbed his hands together. “I took the liberty of reserving two of the Boston Ritz’s connecting club-level presidential suites. Views of the gardens from the king-size Jacuzzi.”

  “Mmmm. Sounds delish. I’ll have to pack my bikini.”

  “Or not.” Maurice shrugged. “Up to you.”

  Jade smirked at him. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

  “Do you need to ask?” Maurice yawned and closed his eyes, obviously picturing Jade naked in a bubbling tub of steaming hot water, her long silky hair piled on top of her head.

  Jade slapped him with the back of her hand. “Can you think about something other than me naked for five minutes?” she demanded
, pleased, as always, with Maurice’s flattery.

  “Only with great difficulty.”

  Jade leaned toward him and lowered her voice. “Who do you think’s going to hook up this weekend?”

  “Besides you and me?”

  Jade rolled her eyes. “Enough.”

  Maurice fingered the SUPERMAN on his chest. “The obvious answer is Zane and little Miss Boobs.” He was a little bitter that he’d only gotten to drunkenly kiss Bree—and that he barely remembered. He wouldn’t mind getting his hands on that hot little body of hers. “If they haven’t already, that is.”

  “Well, I’ve got some juice on her.” Jade smiled. “Did you know she was making out with someone who definitely was not Zane on Monday night?” That girl irked her. Everyone thought she was so nice, with her sweet little smile and blushing dimpled cheeks, but jumping all over Crystal’s boyfriend the second they broke up? How nice was that? She hadn’t seen Crystal since getting back, but she knew she’d have to tell her about bumping into Zane and Bree in New York once she did.

  “Oh, yeah?” Maurice rubbed his hands together conspiratorially. “That’s interesting.”

  “Who else?” Jade asked, pleased to have planted the seed of a rumor that was sure to blossom into a full-fledged scandal.

  “I don’t know…Ryan Reynolds wants to make a move on Naomi—he thinks he’s got a decent shot.”

  “In hell, maybe,” Jade scoffed. “She’s not that desperate.”

  “Speaking of desperate.” Maurice nodded in the direction of the quad. Amir Phillips headed toward them in a pair of khakis and a gray polo beneath his neatly pressed maroon school blazer.

  “Don’t you guys look suspicious.” He paused in front of them. “Discussing government secrets?”

  “Close. Talking about this weekend.” Maurice pulled a pack of cigarettes out from one of the side pockets of his cargo pants.