Upper East Side #5

by Ashley Valentine

  Chanel sat up and perched on Cairo's knee, her Ugg-decked feet just grazing the carpet. She tugged on the legs of her jeans. Usually people were too busy looking at her to ask about Porsha. But Porsha did put a hell of a lot more effort into her appearance than Chanel did, so maybe Porsha deserved the attention.

  “She's upstairs, getting ready.” She elbowed Cairo in the belly. “You want to go up and check on her?”

  Cairo kind of liked that the ski patrol guys had noticed Porsha, since he and Porsha were so clearly going to be getting it on very soon. He elbowed Chanel back.

  “Ow!”

  The two siblings exchanged fierce glances.

  “I didn't say anything bad,” Chanel insisted sulkily. Cairo's fierce look turned into an amused grin. “What?”

  “I think someone's here to see you,” he whispered.

  Chanel looked up to find Jan, future dentist and Dutch Olympic snowboarder, gazing at her soulfully. “I was hoping to escort you to the party.”

  The ski patrol guys stepped back to make room for him. Chanel slid off her brother's knee. This wasn't exactly the kind of attention she'd been hoping for. “Um, we're waiting for Porsha.”

  Cairo gave her a little push from behind. “Why don't you two run along?” He gestured to the ski patrol guys. “I invited these guys to the party. Porsha and me can get a lift with them.”

  Just then the elevator doors binged and slid open. Ladies and gentlemen…Queen of the Mountain!

  Porsha had fastened a little gold heart barrette in her hair and was wearing the jade chandelier earrings Les Best had given Chanel after she'd modeled in his runway show. She was also wearing Chanel's light blue cashmere pullover, which was fine because Chanel had been planning on giving it to her, anyway. It was a little tight in the chest, which was also fine. Porsha liked it like that.

  So did the Sun Valley Ski Patrol. They nudged one another and shifted their feet and mumbled noisily, like animals in a barnyard.

  “Hey. You look great,” Cairo said, liking the way the other guys were ogling her. He held out his hand possessively. “Ready to go?”

  Porsha was glad she had taken her time getting ready. She was even wearing the plain white cotton underwear that Chanel always made fun of, calling them her “granny panties.” But the truth was, Porsha was always more comfortable in her granny undies than in all the fussy lacy panties and thongs she owned. And she looked better in them, too. They were what she imagined herself wearing when she was being undressed.

  And someone was definitely going to be undressing her tonight.

  28

  Bree was so confused by what had happened with Damien earlier that evening that she stayed up late, painting a still life and sorting out her thoughts. As usual, there were no fruit or vegetables in the fridge except for a thousand-year-old moldy orange, so she painted toothbrushes and a bar of Dove soap instead.

  It seemed entirely possible that Damien did not own a dog and did not live in that stunning apartment on Park Avenue. Maybe he's just a normal, everyday person, she thought to herself as she carefully touched up the blue bristles on Mekhi's toothbrush. Just like me.

  Actually, she still didn't know what he was. Why didn't he just make it clear instead of playing games? She glared down at her canvas. “This is dumb,” she grumbled, and tossed it into the trash can under her desk. Everything was dumb. All of a sudden she just felt so…dumb.

  And dumb people need company.

  “Oh, so now you have time to talk to me?” Elise said when she picked up the phone.

  “I'm sorry,” Bree allowed. “I've been acting stupid.”

  “That's okay.” Elise's voice softened. “Anyway, I don't see why you're making such a big deal out of this. I mean, if he was so rich and his mom was this crazy person who dressed up her dog, he probably wouldn't be such a good boyfriend to have. Right?”

  Bree thought about this. “How would you know?” she asked suspiciously. “How many boyfriends have you had?”

  Elise didn't answer right away. Bree had touched on a sore subject. “Actually, I thought your brother was going to be my first boyfriend, but I guess not.”

  Bree snorted. “Like that would ever work. You don't smoke, and you don't even like coffee.” She could feel Elise smiling on the other end, and it felt good that she'd made her friend smile.

  “Anyway, I think you should stop thinking of Damien as something he's not and just see if you like who he actually is.”

  Bree crouched down and pulled the smudged, wet still-life out of her wastepaper basket. Maybe if she didn't think of the toothbrush painting as a still life but as a painting with toothbrushes in it, it would work better. She might even add something not so still to it, like Marx the cat. She lay down on her stomach and pulled up the corner of her pink bedspread, looking for him.

  “So…” Elise said. “Are you going to call him or what?”

  Marx wasn't there. Bree stood up and went over to her computer. “No. He likes e-mail and texting better.” She sat down, an idea forming in her head. She was going to invite herself over to Damien's house—at least, she was pretty sure that basement apartment on East 81st' Street was his house. This e-mail was her warning signal. She was going to find out once and for all who he was and what he was all about—whether he liked it or not.

  The phone still pressed to her ear, she went online and started to type.

  “So you really don't think me and Mekhi could have worked?” Elise persisted. “He was writing a poem about me, I think.”

  Bree could have told her all about how Mekhi was still in love with Yasmine and how all the poems he wrote were really about Yasmine and him, even when he pretended they were about someone else. Also, she'd bet anything Elise would get bored with his “I'm a tortured, miserable soul” bullshit after about ten minutes.

  “No way,” she answered distractedly. “Sorry, let me just finish this.”

  “That's okay. I think I'm going to e-mail your brother right now and tell him what a jerk he is.”

  “Good idea,” Bree agreed.

  Now both girls were typing away at their keyboards as they breathed ferociously into their phones. When you have a tough message to get across, it's always good to have backup.

  Dear Damien,

  I know this seems like a strange thing to say, but I really feel like you've been hiding something from me and I don't know. I really like you a lot, and I think you like me. So how come you've never invited me to your house? The thing is, I know where you live now. So I'm coming over tomorrow at six, which is when you're usually finished walking Daphne, I think. Okay. See you then.

  Bree

  Dear Mekhi,

  First of all, I think you are a real jerk for leading me on, because you know I'm younger than you and less experienced, and you should watch out whose heart you break, because it could come back and bite you in the ass. Also, it's so obvious you are still hung up on the first and only girl who would be stupid enough to be your girlfriend. Your sister didn't even have to tell me that—you are just so transparent, it's like you're writing on tracing paper. There, I can be poetic, too. Write that, asshole!

  Your nonfriend and best critic,

  Elise

  29

  The door to Mercedes's house stood open. Kanye West was blasting out of both the indoor and outdoor speakers, and there were clothes strewn all over the front steps. Four boys were walking around in their underwear and showing off their snowboarding muscles. When Porsha and Chanel walked in with Cairo and Jan and the ski patrol guys, they turned around to gape and smile.

  “Where's Mercedes?” Chanel asked, desperate to find the heart of the party before Jan-the-dentist tried to get her alone.

  “In the hot tub,” the boys answered in unison.

  Porsha stayed in the living room while Chanel went out the patio doors in search of their host, with Jan trailing after her. Cairo went over to the bar and began to mix drinks. He'd taken a bartending course last semester—the most us
eful thing he'd learned in college so far.

  Porsha noticed that Kaliq was sitting by himself on a leather sofa in the corner of the living room, sort of picking at his toes. He was wearing his broken-in Brown sweatshirt and a pair of tattered St. Jude's gym shorts. With his wavy hair and sparkling green eyes, he looked like a sad little boy. Porsha wanted to sit down next to him and ask him why he was picking his toes and looking so down at his girlfriend's party, but then Cairo came over and handed her a glass filled with something swirly and orangey-pink.

  “Mai tai. Careful, it doesn't taste it, but it's almost all liquor.”

  “Thanks.” Porsha took the glass. Normally she preferred vodka tonics, but she'd drink anything Cairo made for her.

  “I'm going out to sit in the tub,” Cairo said. “Wanna come?”

  Porsha shook her head. “No thanks.” The idea of jumping into the hot tub with Mercedes and whoever else was in there really wasn't all that appealing. And she didn't want Cairo to think she couldn't fend for herself at a party. Besides, there was a whole table of catered food standing only ten feet away. If Cairo went outside, she'd have a chance to stuff her face without worrying about whether he thought she was a big fat pig or not.

  A girl needs fuel, especially when she has a long night ahead of her.

  As soon as Cairo left, she grabbed a plate of spring rolls and plopped down on a love seat next to a Hispanic guy who was smoking a joint. He looked up at her and smiled. “You board?”

  Porsha had no clue what he was talking about. “No.” She took a deep breath through her nostrils. She never got high, but she was feeling sort of nervous all of a sudden, and all the stoners she knew were so mellow. Maybe a few hits off this guy's joint were just what she needed. “Is that weed?”

  The guy smiled again and looked at the roach in his hand. “It was. Sorry, it's kaput.” He wasn't wearing a shirt or shoes, and he still had his ski pants on. They were bright green, with reinforced knees.

  “So how do you know Mercedes?” Porsha asked, still chomping her food.

  “Who?”

  Porsha could feel Kaliq watching her from across the room. Maybe he thought she was sharing this guy's joint. Oh, the irony.

  “Where do you go to school?” she asked, figuring the guy must be about twenty and in college.

  “I don't do school,” he told her. “I board from March till December and then surf the North Shore all winter.”

  Porsha shoved a roll in her mouth and chewed. “How can you snowboard all summer?”

  “Chile. Argentina.”

  “And the North Shore is in Hawaii, right?”

  The guy nodded. “You surf?”

  Porsha shook her head, intrigued by the idea. She envisioned herself in her new pink bikini and a Hawaiian lei made of white orchids and red blossoms, balanced on a surfboard and riding out a humungous wave. She'd have an amazing chocolate tan and incredible butt muscles—the kind that actually look good in a thong. And after a long day of surfing, Cairo would massage her with coconut oil and feed her the fresh fish he'd caught that day. Maybe she didn't really need to go to Yale or any college at all—she could just…surf.

  Kaliq got up all of a sudden and walked over to her. His green eyes weren't sparkling so much as smoldering. He looked like he had a lot on his mind.

  “Hey,” he said.

  “Hey,” she said back. “How come you're not in the hot tub?”

  Kaliq shrugged. “It's too hot?”

  Porsha jumped up and dumped her paper plate in the trash. She didn't like making small talk with Kaliq when Cairo was outside with Mercedes and Chanel. It didn't make any sense. “Come on,” she said, leading the way outside.

  “Catch you later,” the stoned guy called after them.

  It had snowed for a few hours earlier in the day, and Mercedes's backyard sparkled in the moonlight with crisp, fresh, dry snow. Kanye West had morphed into Fetty Wap, and the ski patrol guys were dancing with a group of girls from the local high school on the deck surrounding the hot tub.

  Chanel had always loved soaking in hot tubs outside at night in the cold, especially when it was snowing lightly and everyone was naked. This time she was particularly grateful to be wedged between her brother and Jaylen, while Jan-the-Dutch-dentist gazed at her dreamily from the other side of the tub.

  Mercedes had eaten too many spring rolls or too much something and was doing handstands in the middle of the tub, leaving no part of her naked body up to anyone's imagination.

  “Oh,” Porsha said, anxiously surveying the scene. She'd been planning to get naked that night too, but not in front of Kaliq and Mercedes and the Sun Valley Ski Patrol and the entire Dutch Olympic snowboarding team. And she certainly wasn't doing any fucking handstands.

  “You coming in?” Cairo called from inside the tub.

  Chanel blinked water out of her long, dark lashes. “It's nice.”

  Porsha pulled the sleeves of her borrowed sweater down over her wrists. “Not right now.”

  Mercedes popped up out of the water and wiped her nose. Her sand-colored complexion glowed in the moonlight. “Leave her alone. Maybe she has her period.”

  Porsha blushed angrily.

  “Does Kaliq have his period, too?” Jaylen taunted.

  Kaliq pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his shorts pocket, lit one, and then handed the pack to Porsha. Then he trudged off into the dark snowy lawn behind the house, wearing only his sweatshirt, shorts, and sneakers.

  Porsha put a cigarette in her mouth, wishing she didn't feel quite so sorry for Kaliq. It was weird, this sympathy-for-Kaliq business. And probably totally undeserved.

  “I'm going back inside,” she said pointedly.

  Chanel elbowed Cairo in the ribs. “I think that's your cue.”

  Behind her, Porsha heard someone splash out of the tub.

  “Oh, wow!” she heard Mercedes squeal, and Porsha knew she was looking at Cairo.

  Sorry, babe. He's spoken for.

  “Wait up, Porsh.”

  Porsha stopped in the kitchen and snatched a chocolate macaroon from off the caterer's tray. She took a bite and then turned around to face Cairo. He was wearing only a white towel, just like when she'd first seen him at the lodge, the day they'd arrived in Sun Valley and she'd realized that he was the man to deflower her. Now was as good a time as any. She grabbed a bottle of chilled champagne from the kitchen counter, tucked it under her arm, and picked up the plate of macaroons. “Let's take these upstairs.”

  30

  “I don't wanna go inside,” Mercedes pouted as the high school girls and the ski patrol guys followed Conrad, Josef, Gan, and Franz into the house to get something to eat. “I wanna do something wild.”

  Chanel's skin tingled. Me too! Me too! She was tired of tagging along with Cairo and Porsha's little lovefest. And she couldn't wait to escape Jan's lovelorn gaze. It was time for an adventure.

  “Did you see? Those guys have one of those ski patrol toboggan things on top of their car. I've always wanted to ride in one of those…”

  Mercedes was out of the tub before Chanel even finished her sentence. “Come on!” she cried, stepping into her moon boots, the rest of her just as naked as ever. “Let's check it out!”

  Leaving their clothes behind, Jaylen and Chanel followed Mercedes out to the car-filled driveway in front of the house. Quickly and quietly, Jaylen and Mercedes unhooked the toboggan from on top of the ski patrol guys' Subaru wagon and lowered it onto the snow. Mercedes opened the back door of one of the snowboarding team's Mercedes SUVs and groped around inside.

  “Anyone want one?” she called out.

  “Me!” Jaylen replied, joining her.

  Chanel didn't know what Mercedes was offering, but she didn't need anything at the moment except a warm coat. “Aren't we going to be cold?” she ventured. The toboggan had a thick wool blanket strapped to it, but unless they all got under it they were going to die of hypothermia.

  “Don't you want to be in the papers again?” Ja
ylen wheezed. It sounded like he was snorting something.

  Mercedes pulled her head out of the SUV and slammed the door. She rubbed her nose, her light brown eyes wide. “All we have to do is keep moving.” She pointed at Chanel. “You get into the sled and me and Jaylen will pull you—like Santa's reindeer!”

  Not one to poop on anyone's party and eternally grateful that Jan-the-dentist was too much of a wuss to join them, Chanel undid the straps holding the blanket down to the toboggan, wrapped the blanket around herself, and then lay down in it.

  Mercedes crouched beside her and tucked Chanel's arms into the blanket. Then she buckled up the straps, pulling them tight across Chanel's body, as if her bones were all broken and needed to be held together. Chanel noticed tiny beads of sweat on Mercedes's upper lip and forehead, even though it was only twenty-eight degrees and she was naked.

  “Ready?” Mercedes shouted, her moon boots ankle-deep in snow.

  It felt odd and a little scary to be strapped in lying down. Chanel couldn't undo the straps even if she wanted to. Underneath the blanket, she pressed her palms against her thighs to steady herself. “Ready.”

  Mercedes and Jaylen giggled as they tugged on the toboggan's harness, their naked butt cheeks straining with the effort as they dragged it down the driveway and onto the snowy shoulder of Wood River Drive.

  “Wait, where are we going?” Chanel called out helplessly. She lifted her head to see, but all she could make out were two naked bodies gleaming in the moonlight as they jogged down the quiet road. Jaylen had a tan line left over from Christmas in St. Barts, but Mercedes was as pale as a daisy.

  Though not nearly as pure.

  Chanel's neck was aching and she was about to let her head fall back, when Jaylen and Mercedes's bodies were set aglow by headlights. A car was coming.