Social Order (3 page)

“I'll try it—,” she began, scrambling to her feet, but Ashley had leaped through the air somehow and was bearing down on the jacket. As Lili grabbed the left shoulder, Ashley took possession of the right sleeve.

“Why don't you both try it on?” Jeanine suggested, and to Lili's surprise, Ashley stepped back.

“You first, Lil,” she said, smiling like a crocodile. Lili slipped behind the Japanese screen and took off her Helmut Lang T-shirt and current Elliott jeans. She slipped on the dress, which floated on her body, and zipped up the jacket. It fit her beautifully, though the sleeves were maybe a little long—Jeanine had bought it with long-limbed A. A. in mind. The skirt hit right at the knees, the fabric draping against her legs. She stepped into the room and did a slow twirl for her audience.

“Is it almost over?” groaned Tri, slumping lower in his seat.

“No one's making you stay,” A. A. snapped at him. Ashley, still beaming, walked over and stroked one of the jacket's soft sleeves.

“Yummy!” she gushed, and then clicked her fingers. “My turn.”

Five minutes later Ashley emerged from the makeshift dressing room, her eyes sparkling in triumph.

“I hate to say this,” she said with a toss of her long blond hair, “because I know it sounds so conceited. But you have to admit, Lil—this looks way better on me.”

Lili opened her mouth to protest, but no words came out. Because Ashley was right. It did look better on her. The proportions of the jacket suited her more, and the skirt was an inch shorter, the perfect length.

“It'll look perfect with my new crocodile boots,” she told Jeanine. “Don't you think it suits me best?”

A. A.'s mother shook her head and laughed.

“You girls have to sort it out,” she said. “This is more tiring than a twelve-hour flight. A. A., darling, will you call down for some herbal tea?”

“So what do you say, Lil?” Ashley asked.

“I guess,” said Lili uncertainly, flopping down on the lounge chair, defeated. And that was it—decided just like that. What Ashley wanted, Ashley got. Clothes, bags, jewelry, boyfriends. Lili just didn't know how much longer she could stand it.

ASHLEY SPENCER SMILED AS SHE
folded up all of her loot. She had the best possible life.

She had parents who doted on her, a beautiful, art-filled house that overlooked San Francisco Bay, house staff that had known her all her life and did everything for her, every item of clothing and every gadget she wanted—even if she only wanted it for five minutes. To top it all off, she was Ashley Spencer, the most important Ashley in the most envied clique in the most exclusive school in San Francisco. And now she was the first of the Ashleys to snag a real boyfriend, and an incredibly cute one at that. Plus, he adored her completely.

And why wouldn't he? It was no wonder she was top dog—excuse her, top biatch—on AshleyRank. Could life be more perfect?

Okay—so some things could be better. She could have a cool model mom like A. A.'s, who spent most of the time flying off to glam locations and came home only long enough to empty The. Best. Clothes. Ever. from her suitcases. And today Ashley totally scored the best of the best! She'd known that Lili would back down. She always did. Everything was the way it should be: She could hang with her girls and—even better—she could hang with her guy.

Her guy! Who knew Tri was
so
funny? She looked at him affectionately as she patted a particularly choice Pringle sweater that she'd scored because it made A. A. look too chesty.

Tri had made the funniest comments about the outfits she was trying on all afternoon. When she came out in leggings and a swing dress, he asked her if she meant to look like a lampshade. He had no idea at all about the ruched arm warmers—“My wrists never get cold,” he said, screwing up his adorable face—and the detachable collar on the Burberry ribbed sweater jacket confounded him completely, poor boy. “Is it a shirt or a sweater?” he
asked, amused. “How do you guys know what to do with all this stuff?”

“Isn't he so cute?” Ashley had asked A. A. as she ruffled Tri's hair. Sure, he was short, but guys who were short in junior high were like girls with flat chests—they were going to grow. Her dad told her once that he was the shortest guy in his class all the way through ninth grade, and now he was over six feet tall. Ashley hoped that Tri wouldn't be a mini-hottie for quite that long, but she could cope with him staying Elijah Wood–size for the foreseeable future.

A. A. had only snorted. What was wrong with her? A. A. wasn't really into all the clotheshorse stuff that day; she didn't even laugh like she usually did at Ashley and Lili squabbling over outfits.

Ashley decided to ignore A. A.'s sullen behavior. She didn't want anything to spoil her good mood. She was feeling so happy and benevolent these days, ever since that new blog had launched. The one everyone was talking about.

She knew there were rumors going around that the Ashleys were behind it—
as if!
They didn't need some anonymous computer nerd to tell them what they already knew, that they were seventh-grade royalty.
AshleyRank was most likely started by some kind of fan of theirs—or else someone who was beyond desperate to be their friend.

Someone like Lauren Page. Lauren had spent the last few weeks sucking up to them, and this was yet another ploy to ingratiate herself into the group. It had to be her. First off, Lauren's father had made a nouveau-riche fortune when his video-sharing website YourTV went public over the summer. So obviously the Pages were techies. Two, that hot seventeen-year-old computer-whiz intern, Dex Bond—the one A. A. had been in love with for a minute—had plenty of time on his hands between driving Lauren to school and protecting her from imaginary kidnappers. (Who'd want to kidnap someone so boring? Hello!) Dex had probably created the blog in his spare time as a favor to the boss's sad-sack daughter.

In any case, AshleyRank was genius! Ashley liked any list that had her name at number one. And she especially liked any list that had everyone at Miss Gamble's talking. They even knew about it at Gregory Hall, and it was making the rounds at all the other private schools in the city. Yes! Today Miss Gamble's, tomorrow Page Six of the
New York Post
. Other girls planned their college applications. Ashley planned her future social life.

Ashley carefully stowed away her new clothes in one of the big Chanel shopping bags A. A.'s mother kept in the walk-in hall closet. Tri had said he'd walk her home, so she waved good-bye to the others and strolled out of the Fairmont with Tri gallantly carrying her bag. It wasn't far to her place, but she walked as slowly as possible, even though it had started raining again. She wanted to remember every detail of this afternoon. Because this was the moment.

The time was right for their first kiss.

Tri had been her boyfriend for a week now, if you counted the dance-with-death as the first day, despite the fact that she wasn't exactly conscious for all of it. They'd seen each other several times since the dance and sent each other approximately two hundred IMs.

He was perfect. He was sweet, he was polite, he was funny. When he looked into her eyes, she felt kind of crumbly and fluttery inside. She may have been the last of the Ashleys to get her period, but she was the first to have a
real
relationship with a boy, and not just some dumb online thing that didn't pan out, like A. A.'s so-called romance with “laxjock.”

There was just one thing still bugging her.

Tri had never tried
once
to kiss her. Okay, so maybe
it was because they'd only been going out for a week. Maybe he was just being shy. Maybe it was all part of being a gentleman—maybe they had etiquette lessons at Gregory Hall as well.

Gentlemanly was all well and good when you were, like,
ancient
, but right now she wanted him to step up to the plate and kiss her. If the other Ashleys started asking pointed questions, she was going to have to lie—and she hated lying. And lying about getting kissed was
très
lame. It made her feel like she was just pretending to have a boyfriend, like Lauren Page turning up at the mixer with Billy Reddy. Pretend boyfriends were so sixth grade!

Ashley surreptitiously looked at him from the corner of her eye. If he was too shy to kiss her, then she'd just have to take the initiative—make sure all systems were go. She'd heard that sometimes a girl had to make the move. Guys could be so clueless sometimes. The rain had petered out to a light drizzle, everything misty and romantic like in the movies. She couldn't have asked for better weather.

When they reached the tall wrought-iron gates of her house, she punched the security code into the little white box and waited for the gates to swing open.

“I guess I'll say good-bye here,” said Tri, handing her the Chanel shopping bag.

“You can come in,” she told him, trying to sound sultry and alluring. “Walk me to the door?”

There was no way she would let him kiss her on the street—in front of passing taxis and delivery trucks and random gardeners? Um. No. She'd been waiting for this all week.

She thought he'd kiss her when they'd snuggled up together at the movies, but he'd been way more interested in their shared tub of popcorn instead. When they'd met at Starbucks after school, the crowded coffeehouse didn't seem like the right moment for a make-out session either. This was the first time he was walking her home, and she'd planned it that way.

“C'mon,” she said.

Tri hesitated and looked down at his shoes.

“Okay,” he said finally, following her down the broad cobbled path that led to the double Spanish-style carved front doors.

Ashley walked in front of him so he could admire how cute she looked in her jeans and hoodie, swinging the Chanel bag nonchalantly. She set it down on the terra-cotta steps and turned to face him, taking care to
stand on the path. There was no point in climbing the steps and making the difference in their height even worse.

“Are you sure you don't want to come in?” She wanted him to see their grand marble entryway, to know that her family was just as fabulous as his. Probably more fabulous, because both her parents had inherited massive trust funds, which meant nobody even
remembered
working in the Spencer household.

“I can't. I have to get home. I'll see you, okay? Maybe for brunch tomorrow?”

“Sure, but don't go yet,” she whispered, not moving a muscle. She batted her eyelashes. Either he kissed her or he left her standing here. She wasn't going to be the one to walk away. “Come closer.”

Tri's dark eyes looked anxious. “Why?”

“Because,” Ashley breathed. Then she leaned toward him, closing her eyes slowly. She knew how good she looked at that moment—how the dewy raindrops made her skin look pink and flushed, how her lips, softly parted, looked delicious. (She'd practiced in the mirror a thousand times.) He wouldn't be able to resist.

This was
it
.

He leaned toward her, and Ashley's mind whirred
in jubilation. Yes! It was going to happen! She couldn't wait to tell all the other Ashleys how it all hap—

Huuuuhhh?

Tri wasn't kissing her. He was
hugging
her. And it was a squeeze-the-shoulders, friendly kind of hug. A five-second hug. The kind of hug you give cousins you haven't seen in eons, not a passionate embrace.

“See you,” he called again, hurrying down the pathway toward the gates. Ashley watched him go, resisting the urge to stamp her foot. What kind of a boyfriend didn't kiss you?

She sighed and trudged up the steps. Whatever weirdness was going on in Tri's head was something she'd have to work out herself. No way was she going to discuss any of this with the other Ashleys. She had a reputation to maintain at all costs—the reputation of the girl ranked numero uno on AshleyRank. She may not have the perfect boyfriend, but at least, where it counted, she had the perfect score.

STYLE: 10

Last seen at PlumpJack's Café in a to-die-for Chloé jacket and bubble dress that everyone immediately added to their shopping wish lists.

SOCIAL PRESENCE: 10

Adorable Boyfriend (“AB”) completed the picture. The pair fed each other fries all morning. Aw, ain't young love sweet?

SMILE: 9

Practically glowing until AB accidentally spilled OJ all over bubble dress. Looked like she was leaning in for a kiss and they just missed each other. Cute!

SMARTS: 9

Maybe brunch isn't the best time to wear designer?

CUMULATIVE SCORE: 38

STYLE: 10

Spotted down at the Marina, tanning on the lawn in a smokin' seashell bikini that made every other girl instantly look fat in their two-piece.

SOCIAL PRESENCE: 9

We admire a girl who can hang out on her own, although Ashley and her AB soon joined her.

SMILE: 7

Didn't look too happy to have company all of a sudden.

SMARTS: 9

A bikini in October? Global warming's not so bad after all!

CUMULATIVE SCORE: 35

STYLE: 10

Seen at Saks as soon as it opened. Where on earth did she get those amazing curvy lace-up pumps??

SOCIAL PRESENCE: 8

Gracious to everyone at the store.

SMILE: 7

Although got a little upset when told they didn't have a certain Chloé leather jacket and bubble dress in stock.

SMARTS: 9

Who wears lace-up heels to go shopping?

CUMULATIVE SCORE: 34

LAUREN PAGE TOOK A DEEP
breath and walked toward the Ashleys' table. Strictly speaking, anyone could sit there. The tables in Miss Gamble's refectory (cafeteria was way too public school) were long and wooden, with room for at least fifteen people. But once the Ashleys were ensconced in the primo spot by the window, nobody dared to sit anywhere along the table, not even at the very end. Nobody wanted to be the butt of their relentless fashion analysis, and nobody wanted to risk annoying them.