Notorious (15 page)

Instant Message Inbox

AlanStGirard:
Want a beer before dinner? Crater?

HeathFerro:
Word.

AlanStGirard:
Buchanan coming?

HeathFerro:
Nah, he’s in one of his moods. You know, listening to Natalie Merchant all day and pouting.

AlanStGirard:
He’d better be over it by the Boston trip. He wouldn’t miss out on that, would he?

HeathFerro:
U kidding? Leave Callie alone in the clutches of us animals? Not bloody likely!

Jenny walked up the Dumbarton steps, hoping to catch her roommates getting ready for the Café Society meeting. She loved the idea of the four of them getting dressed together. Maybe Tinsley would loan Jenny a top—well, maybe not a top because of the discrepancy in their bust sizes—or a belt or something, saying, “This would look great on you.” Jenny had always wanted a sister. Sharing a room with three other girls was the next-best thing. But when she pushed open the door of Dumbarton 303 expectantly, she found it empty, with only a trace of Tinsley’s Dior J’adore lingering in the air.

Jenny sighed and started to flip through her closet hesitantly, not wanting to over- or under-dress since Tinsley had made a point of mentioning “appropriate dress required” in her email. She pulled her dressiest trousers from their hanger, her royal blue silk and cotton-blend Philosophy di Alberta Ferretti ones that had cost her five months’ allowance at the Barneys Warehouse Sale. They were the kind of pants that managed to look sexy and sophisticated and hide all of the wearer’s flaws. No wonder rich people always looked so beautiful. They could afford to buy clothes this well made. Jenny tried pulling on a white satin Calvin Klein baby doll camisole that she’d bought without trying it on from the sale rack at Saks, but it somehow made her look pregnant
and
slutty at the same time. She crumpled it up and threw it in the corner. A few other tops piled up in the corner before she settled on a sequined lace-trim silk tank in silver and her navy, sleek-fitting Ben Sherman blazer.

“Someone looks fabulous!” Brett cried as she barreled through the door breathlessly and immediately undressed. Brett glanced at her closet for half a second before grabbing a pair of Stuart Weitzman peep-toe pumps in dark silver satin with a vintage jeweled brooch on top. Jenny had seen them in
InStyle
and was shocked when Brett handed them to her, saying, “You’re a six, right? These would look great on you.”

“How’d you know I was a six?”

Brett looked sheepish. “Well, I tried on those burgundy suede boots under your bed the other day. I’m a six and a half, and I
had
to see if they fit.”

Jenny laughed, pulling Brett’s shoes onto her delicate feet. “You can borrow them anytime. If they’re not too uncomfortable.” She turned around to find Brett fully dressed, made up, hair freshly brushed, boots on, dabbing one of her mini Chanel perfume bottle to her wrists.

“Wow, you’re fast,” Jenny remarked in total awe.

When they entered Ritoli’s, the other girls were already there, sitting around one of the large circular tables in the corner. Callie, Benny, Verena, and Tinsley all wore dresses that looked like they’d come directly from the runway.

“Take your seats, my ladies,” Tinsley greeted them grandly, taking a sip of some unidentifiable fizzy pink stuff from a Nalgene bottle on the table. “We’re still waiting for Sage and—who else?”

“Celine,” Callie answered promptly, clearly the second in command.

“There they are.” Verena waved her ring-clad fingers at Sage and Celine, who had just stepped through the door. Brett sat down next to her, and Jenny sat down in the empty seat beside Alison Quentin, the pretty Korean girl in her art class.

“Hi, everyone.” Jenny felt like the new girl again, but she was grateful to be included in a gathering of these pretty, popular girls. She pulled out one of the plastic sports bottles that she and Brett had filled with cheap merlot and set it down on the table.

“What have you got there?” Alison burped. “Benny and I have been drinking vodka lemonades since three.” She nodded wistfully at her almost-empty Gatorade bottle.

“Really bad wine. You’re welcome to it if you run out,” Jenny offered as Celine Colista, in a burgundy Vera Wang strapless jersey dress and silver Manolo stilettos, strutted over to the table. Her black hair was freshly blown out.

“Damn,” remarked Benny. “Daddy bought someone a new dress.” Celine’s father was an A-list director and had just made a film starring Kate Hudson and Mark Ruffalo, as Celine often reminded people.

“Nah,” Celine said, twirling around a little to show off how perfectly the color complemented her olive skin. “He got it from wardrobe. Kate wears it in the film.” She rested her hands on her tiny waist. “Of course, I had to have it taken in.” Jenny met Brett’s eyes, and they both stifled giggles.

“Are you guys all going to a party or something?” A gorgeous guy had come up to their table without anyone noticing, but now that he stood two feet away, all the girls were acutely aware of his presence. Jenny had seen him once before, when she stopped in for a slice one day after skipping lunch, but he looked even cuter than he had that day, wearing a simple black T-shirt and a pair of slightly baggy Abercrombie & Fitch drawstring khakis.

“This
is
the party, Angelo,” Callie said coyly, her fingers tracing the edge of the leather menu. Jenny was a little surprised to hear how familiar Callie’s tone was—did she know him?

“Well, I’m glad I’m working tonight, then.” Angelo pulled a small pad of paper from the waistband of his pants.

“We are too,” said Tinsley, winking. Clearly Angelo was psyched—it probably wasn’t every night that a group of dressed-up half-drunk girls showed up, eager to flirt with him. Jenny took a gulp from her sports bottle, hoping it would help her feel a little less left out.

“You guys know what you want?”

“Mmm,” said Sage Francis, tossing her platinum hair over her shoulder and leaning forward toward Angelo.

“How much pizza do you think we could eat?” Benny asked, definitely not willing to be left out. She batted her enormous dark brown eyes at Angelo.

Angelo looked them over, pretending to assess the situation with the eye of a pizza expert. Even Jenny felt herself shifting nervously, hoping he thought she was cute. “Well, you girls never eat as much as you should. You’re all too skinny. I’d say you could use three larges.” They all smiled. Who didn’t enjoy being told they were thin? They debated for a minute, then decided on one with cheese and mushrooms, one with pesto sauce, and the third with pepperoni and olives.

“He is so fucking hot,” Sage exclaimed as soon as Angelo walked away.

“Maybe I’ll say something in Italian to him. ...” Benny bit her lips, stained a light pink with Vincent Longo’s Foolish Virgin lipstick. The color was a little dull, but Tinsley knew it was her favorite because of the name. Tinsley and Benny had once gotten drunk while studying for their European history final, and Benny had told her she considered herself a born-again virgin, without any of the religious implications, because she had accidentally lost it last Christmas break to a hot UPenn senior her parents had set her up with. She preferred not to count it, something that Tinsley found totally amusing.

Celine wrinkled her nose. “Isn’t that kind of racist? Just because he’s Italian doesn’t mean he speaks it. I mean, just because Alison’s Korean doesn’t mean she speaks Korean, right?”

“I speak Korean,” Alison admitted apologetically.

“I bet I could hook up with him before any of you guys could,” Callie announced abruptly. Jenny stared at her, wondering where this sudden burst of recklessness was coming from. Callie looked wilder than normal tonight, trading her usually classic preppy look for an outfit she could have worn club-hopping with Lindsay Lohan: a flirty deep purple
BCBG
Max Azria halter dress with a tiered, pleated miniskirt. The dress had a plunging neckline that would look sleazy on anyone with breasts like Jenny’s, but instead it just revealed Callie’s bony breastplate. God, she needed to eat something, Jenny thought, wishing she could hand over some of her own extra weight—namely, from her DD breasts—to Callie.

“Fifty bucks says I can beat you to it,” Benny countered cheerfully. Sage and Celine quickly jumped in.

“Angelo’s hot.” Tinsley leaned back in her chair, knowing that she looked gorgeous in her ecru Elie Tahari corset-inspired chiffon blouse. It set off her tan skin and dark hair, which framed her face in long, full waves. “But I prefer a more-mature guy.”

“Maybe you can hook up with his father,” Brett suggested, taking a long drink from her plastic bottle. They exchanged a charged glance, and Jenny wondered what was going on. She shivered a little, thinking of all the undercurrents she must be missing—these girls had known each other for years, and she had only just stepped in.

“That’s a little
too
old.” Tinsley smirked. “I couldn’t date someone beyond his mid-twenties, no matter how well endowed he was.”

“The whole family has a reputation for being hung like horses,” Alison whispered to Jenny, who almost spat out the warm wine in her mouth.

“I’m sure someone could find out, right?” Jenny giggled boldly. She needed to get some food into her body fast, or she was going to be in trouble. Her head was already beginning to swim.

“I’ve gotta pee,” Callie said ineloquently. She stood up and headed to the bathroom at the back of the restaurant, wobbling slightly on her heels.

Tinsley turned her blue-violet eyes to Jenny for the first time that night. “You could try finding out for yourself. Or do you have your eye on someone else?” Her tone was friendly and light, and if it had been anyone else but Tinsley asking, Jenny would have assumed she was just curious. But Tinsley had seen Jenny and Easy coming out of the woods, Jenny was sure of it now, and it seemed a little too convenient that she waited until Callie had left to bring it up, as if she hoped to goad Jenny into revealing something.

“That wouldn’t be allowed, right?” Jenny asked innocently. “I thought boyfriends were banned.”

“Excellent,” Tinsley praised her with a wry smile. “You’re paying attention.” Their gaze locked across the table before Jenny pulled hers away and took another sip of her wine.

“Just boyfriends are banned, right?” said Celine nervously. “Not, like, hooking up with guys?”

“That, my dear, is encouraged,” Tinsley announced regally, leaning back in her chair again. She looked like a panther, lean and strong and slightly bored, as if waiting for the perfect moment to pounce.

Angelo appeared with an enormous tray bearing three steaming pizzas. He expertly dished them out onto the girls’ plates while they smiled flirtatiously at him. As Jenny held out her plate for Angelo, she caught him staring at her cleavage. When she looked up to see if anyone else had noticed, she met Tinsley’s knowing gaze. Suddenly all her hunger drained away. For whatever reason, Tinsley had her eye on her. And it was not a comfortable feeling.

Instant Message Inbox

RyanReynolds:
How’d your first meeting go? Any naked table dancing?

BennyCunningham:
The night is young. ... We just left Ritoli’s.

RyanReynolds:
R u loaded?

BennyCunningham:
Let’s just say, the entire world is spinning right now and I’ve got the urge to go skinny dipping.

RyanReynolds:
Save that for Boston. I hear the Ritz has Jacuzzis in every room.

Instant Message Inbox

TinsleyCarmichael:
I’ve been drinking wine and thinking about. ...

EricDalton:
Where are you?

TinsleyCarmichael:
None of your beeswax.

EricDalton:
Then when can I see you again?

TinsleyCarmichael:
Soon enough. I hear that absence makes the heart grow fonder.

EricDalton:
Or absence makes the heart grow tortured … Let’s go to New York.

TinsleyCarmichael:
Thought you’d never ask. I’ve always wanted to stay at 40 Banfield in Soho.

EricDalton:
That can be arranged. Tuesday? We can both call in sick.

TinsleyCarmichael:
A Waverly Owl Does Not Skip Class! Kidding. I like that idea.

EricDalton:
Good

TinsleyCarmichael:
Speaking of cutting … I saw Easy Walsh skipping. ... I know he’s on probation.

EricDalton:
Sounds like I’ll have to have a word with him. That kid is trouble.

TinsleyCarmichael:
You’re telling me.

EricDalton:
So Tuesday then? I’m looking forward to it.

TinsleyCarmichael:
Of course you are.

The girls walked in a tight pack in the cool evening, bumping into each other as their delicate heels picked their way down the cobbled sidewalks of Rhinecliff. Callie was about to slow down a bit and wait for Tinsley to come up beside her and sling her arm through hers, but just then her tiny satin Jimmy Choo clutch began to vibrate. She thought for a brief, wonderful second that maybe it was Easy calling, but then she recognized the number as Brandon’s. He was probably calling to check on her, make sure she wasn’t too drunk, and while she didn’t exactly want to hear it, she
was
drunk enough to crave a boy’s voice.