Porsha pulled away and spat the pit on the ground. “It better be.”
Jaylen put his arm around her and then slowly slid his hand down her back and over her ass. “You know what’s the best way to ring in the new year?”
She pulled away and pointed through the glass doors to where Alexis and Imani were standing on a little table holding each other’s hands and counting down the new year. “Those two have always been totally in love with you,” Porsha declared, trying to keep a straight face. “If you want to ‘ring in the new year’ with someone, why don’t you ask them?”
Jaylen grinned at her. “Really?”
She nodded. “Go ahead, I’m—”
But before she could even finish her sentence, Jaylen ducked back inside and grabbed the two girls in a group hug.
“Four! Three! Two!”
36
At 11:55, the runners had started their slow course around the park. Yasmine jogged alongside them with her video camera, trying to capture the mixture of determination, pain, and elation on their faces. They were outside, running, and it was freezing! It was the end of an old year and the beginning of a new one—maybe even the beginning of a new era!
Even though they were moving so slowly she could have easily kept up with them, Yasmine had left her bag of camera equipment behind in the snow and her combat boots were giving her blisters, so she decided to head back to the starting point, figuring she’d catch up with them at the finish.
Mekhi and Ken Mogul were still waiting for her on the bench. “I’ve been nominated for a few things,” Ken was saying. “But I never won anything. Maybe working with Yasmine will change that.” He had kept up a running monologue ever since Mekhi sat down beside him.
Mekhi didn’t mind. His notebook was open on his lap and he was staring fixedly at the halo of light cast by a streetlamp in the snow, searching for the exact words to describe the way the snowflakes were drifting through the light, so slowly they didn’t seem to be falling so much as floating.
All of a sudden Yasmine stepped into the halo of light, her nose red from running and her huge hazel eyes shining. She smiled at the ridiculous sight of Mekhi and some older guy in a fancy ski parka sitting together on a park bench, a half inch of fresh snow dusting their shoulders.
Mekhi’s soulful dark eyes gazed up at her from underneath his white knit cap. He didn’t look mad. God, was she glad to see him.
“How long have you been sitting there?”
The guy in the ski parka stood up. “Long enough to see that you’re definitely the next great thing to happen to film.”
Yasmine laughed again. Was this guy for real?
He walked over and handed her his card. Ken Mogul, filmmaker, the card read. “I’m heading down to Brazil to shoot an exposé on some kid prostitutes in Rio,” Ken explained. “But I hope you’ll call me so we can set something up. I could really use you.”
Yasmine walked over to her camera bag and dumped her camera into it. She had always admired Ken Mogul’s work, but she wasn’t so sure she wanted to be “used” by some director, no matter how famous he was. She wanted to make it on her own.
“Will you call me?” Ken persisted.
“Excuse me,” she heard Mekhi say quietly behind them.
Ken turned around. “This guy’s been waiting to talk to you almost as long as I have. Who are you, anyway, man?”
Mekhi stood up, letting his notebook fall into the snow. He walked over to Yasmine, grabbed her, and wrapped her in his arms. “Her boyfriend,” he told Ken Mogul over her shoulder. And then he kissed her as hard as he could, afraid that if he did it too meekly she wouldn’t take him seriously. He was her boyfriend, goddammit! And he was mad at her, and proud of her, and proud of himself for kissing her and ending this madness once and for all.
Yasmine kissed him back just as hard. Screw Ken Mogul. The film she was making was much cooler than any film he’d ever made. Besides, she didn’t feel like talking about her career right now, anyway. She was too busy kissing her boyfriend.
And as they kissed, fireworks began to light up the sky overhead. It was the sort of cliché that could ruin a film or poem, but this was way better than a film and way better than a poem. It was the real thing.
37
On the last note of the song, Flow opened his eyes to find Chanel gone. The clock struck midnight and everyone began hugging and kissing and blowing their paper party horns, ignoring him completely, which was definitely a first for him.
A few people had thrown hundred-dollar bills into his guitar case just for the hell of it. He fished them out and threw them on the floor before settling his guitar back inside and snapping the case closed. Then he spun around to grab the elevator just as the doors were closing, wedging his case in between the doors until they rolled open again. A short brown-skinned curly-haired girl with a remarkably large chest was leaning against the back wall of the elevator.
“Hey.” Flow smiled his famous shy boy grin as he stepped inside.
The girl didn’t say anything. She looked like she’d been crying.
“Are you headed downtown?” Flow asked. “I have a car waiting outside. Maybe I could buy you a drink or something.”
Bree kept her eyes on the floor. Flow, Kaliq, they were all the same. Just because he was famous and sexy didn’t mean she had to talk to him, did it? No, it most certainly did not.
The elevator doors opened. “Get lost,” she replied. She passed through the building’s revolving glass door and stepped out onto the sidewalk to hail a cab. It was New Year’s Eve and the city was one big party, but Bree was going home to follow her dad’s advice for once and curl up in bed with a good book.
* * *
As soon as Chanel and Tahj made it outside, fireworks exploded in the sky all around them. It was freezing, and there were only a few people out on the deck. Everyone else was inside pouring champagne over one another’s heads and dancing their asses off as the DJ cranked the music up even louder than before.
As she looked out at the psychedelic landscape, Chanel had that feeling again—the one she loved—when she wasn’t quite sure what would happen next, but she knew it would be something good. Maybe even the best thing yet.
“Look.” She pointed as the sparks from a huge blue firework began to whiz around the sky and then exploded in their own mini fireworks display over the East River.
Tahj lit an herbal cigarette. He was only wearing a T-shirt, but he didn’t feel cold. “I didn’t used to like fireworks,” he said, blowing smoke into the air. “I thought they were loud, bad for the environment, and a waste of money.”
“But you like them now, right?” Chanel asked, turning to look at him. She had borrowed someone’s sheepskin coat from off a chair but her feet were still bare, and she and Tahj really were exactly the same height.
Tahj nodded. “I love them.”
“Me too,” Chanel breathed. Her whole body was shaking, and she wasn’t sure if it was from the cold or because they were about to kiss.
Tahj took her hand. “Are you warm enough?”
“Yes.”
His pink lips curved up at the corners. “Let’s not kiss until the fireworks are over, okay?”
“Okay,” Chanel said, surprised. And there was nothing she liked better than being surprised. Out over Times Square a new crescendo of fireworks had just begun. “Although I may not be able to wait.”
Now that the hummingbird had found a flower it wanted to hang out on for a while, all it wanted to do was land.
“Why don’t you just kiss now? You can always kiss some more later,” a girl said behind them. It was Porsha, standing only a few feet away, wrapped in her sky blue Marc Jacobs coat but still shivering from the cold. “Happy New Year.” She walked over and kissed Tahj on the cheek.
Tahj hugged her. A nice, normal, brotherly hug. “Happy New Year, Sis.”
Porsha broke away from him to hug Chanel. “Happy New Year!” the two girls squealed, pressing their faces into each o
ther’s hair. It was crazy to think that for part of the year they’d wanted to kill each other. Now they didn’t know what they’d do without each other.
“Okay.” Porsha pulled away. “Now you two can kiss.”
Leaving them to decide whether to go ahead and kiss right away or not, she walked to the end of the deck and looked out over the Hudson River and New York Harbor. She watched as the fireworks exploded over the Statue of Liberty and plunged into the deep black water. The second to last scene in her screenplay ended with a kiss, too. Now all she had left to write was the final scene, the ending.
It wasn’t really going to end, Porsha decided now. Not with any sort of finality.
The best stories never did.
Author's Note
Will Porsha ever lose her virginity? And if so, with whom?
Will Kaliq redeem himself, even though we'll still love him if he doesn't?
Will Chanel settle down and stick with Tahj for longer than a day?
Will Mekhi be ready to do it with Yasmine now that's he a published author?
Will Bree find true love?
Will any of us get over our hangovers in time to finish our college applications?
More importantly, will any of us get in anywhere?
Find out in the 4th book of the Upper East Side series, which is out now! If you'd like more updates and interaction with me you can always contact me at the following:
Email: [email protected]
Twitter: AshValentine__
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Did you love Upper East Side 3? Then you should read Upper East Side 4 by Ashley Valentine!
Everyone who's anyone in New York City is suffering from post-college-application cabin fever and it's time to run a little wild! Just think, the later we stay out, the quicker the days will blur by. And believe me, every wicked thing we get up to will be glamorized, dissected, and blown totally out of proportion.
Could it be that Chanel is smitten with Porsha's stepbrother or will the Fashion Week parties pull her away from any attempt at true love? Mekhi and Yasmine are mad about each other and pursuing their creative dreams—but be careful of what you wish for. Kaliq hits an all-time low as Porsha's Yale interview with a tall, handsome alum takes an unexpected turn and Bree makes a new friend who gets a little too close for comfort. And just who is going to get into college early acceptance?
Wintertime has never been hotter in NYC as things steam up all over Fifth Avenue!
Also by Ashley Valentine
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Upper East Side
Upper East Side 1
Upper East Side 2
Upper East Side 3
Upper East Side 4
Upper East Side 5
Upper East Side 6
Upper East Side 7
Upper East Side 8
Upper East Side 9
Upper East Side 10
Upper East Side 11
Upper East Side #3 Page 16
