Tempted (20 page)

She pressed her lips against his, and he draped his muscular arms around her, the scent of his skin filling her nose as she inhaled.

She just had to make it till Friday.

Callie’s stomach rumbled so loudly she was certain they could hear it back at Waverly. Two days ago, she never would’ve guessed that she’d actually be eager to scarf down a plateful of gray-brown pork chops and runny applesauce, but her hands shook as she held her tray and waited in line for dinner on Sunday night. She braced herself against the metal runners of the serving station as she set her tray down to slide it like everyone else, exhaustion from the day’s labors gripping her body like the flu.

She smiled as the dining hall attendant set a plate heaped with unappetizing food on her tray. It didn’t matter—it looked delicious to her, and Callie felt the happiest she’d been all weekend. The therapy session yesterday had actually been kind of fun. Afterward, she and some of the other girls had huddled in a corner and thought of ways to get back at Natasha for being such a slave driver—if only they could get their hands on some industrial-strength hair remover to pour into her shampoo, they’d have an excellent prank on their hands.

Callie grabbed a carton of skim milk and turned to find a seat in the crowded dining hall. Fake Brett, whose name turned out to be Meri, short for Meredith, nodded in Callie’s direction. She scooted over to make room on the hard wooden bench.

“Thanks,” Callie uttered, her voice barely a whisper. Her tray clanked against the table as she folded herself between Meri and a woman whom Callie had seen splitting wood with one strike of the ax. Her name was either Julia or Julie.

“Can you believe this slop?” Meri asked. She stabbed a piece of pork chop and held it in the air as exhibit A. “I guess they haven’t heard of vegetarianism in Maine.” She dropped it back on her plate and woefully stabbed a withered pea with her fork.

“The applesauce is bland, too,” Julie/Julia added. “Tastes like baking soda.”

Callie laughed. “Ew.” The laugh felt good filtering up through her tired body. All during afternoon activities, Callie had been focused on what she needed to do to excise Easy from her life. It couldn’t be that hard—all she had to do was block out all the good memories she had of him and focus on the bad ones. It was actually much easier to do when she was wearing someone else’s clothes. She felt like a completely different person wearing the drab Whispering Pines clothes—about as unprincess-like as you could get.

She chewed a large piece of pork chop and washed it down with milk, the salty meat setting her taste buds abuzz. She felt as if she’d just discovered them for the first time. Her dinner companions, poking at their food and making fun of Natasha, all seemed more normal than they had yesterday, when they were all awash in their favorite colors, talking about their addictions. Now she could practically imagine they were sitting at a table in the Waverly dining hall, dissecting a day of classes or some annoying senior’s poor choice of outfit.

“So, are you ready for your solo?” Talia asked the table under her breath.

Everyone stopped chewing at once.

“What solo?” Callie asked. Her voice boomed through the sudden silence.

“I heard one woman went into the woods and never came back.” Julie/Julia widened her eyes, subtly lined with forbidden eyeliner. How had she managed that? Maybe if Callie hadn’t been so quick to pass out that first night, she could have stashed some of her Clinique mascara under her mattress. “They never found her.”

“I overheard Natasha talking about someone losing a toe to frostbite,” Meri said, looking askance to make sure Natasha wasn’t within earshot. Luckily, she was happily scarfing down two pork chops at a table across the room.

“Wait, what in hell are you talking about?” Callie laid her fork down across her plateful of uneaten food.

“You’re not supposed to talk about it,” Julia/Julie warned.

Meri nodded, fingering the empty earring holes along the top of her left ear. Callie suddenly felt nervous again. “If they catch you talking about it, they make it worse. I found this.” Meri glanced again at Natasha and then double-checked the dining hall attendants before producing a folded piece of paper from inside her bra.

“What is it?” Callie asked, involuntarily lowering her voice to a whisper.

Meri unfolded the piece of paper. Someone had scrawled a crude map of the grounds, adding a compass in a different-colored ink. A giant X marked a spot northwest of the outer perimeter. “I found it under one of the legs of my cot,” Meri said.

“What is it?” Julia/Julie asked. “A treasure map?”

“I think whoever left this was trying to instruct us—or warn us,” Meri said secretively, pushing it toward Callie. “I just wanted to share it with you in case it comes in handy while you’re out there.”

“Out where?” Callie whispered. And why was Meri pushing the map toward her?

“It’s a test. They force you out into the woods at night without food or water or warm clothing and see if you can make it.” Meri refolded the note. “You use it, Callie. Then give it back to me or Julia when you’re done.”

“You’re going tomorrow night,” Julia—thank God someone had finally said her name—explained to Callie. “I work in Amanda’s office in the afternoons, and I saw the schedule.”

“Amanda’s office?” Callie asked, mentally salivating at the thought of an Internet connection. “Where is it?”

“Right off the lobby. When you first come in.” Julia leaned back in her chair, looking way more relaxed than Callie was feeling.

“When am I going?” Meri asked, a touch of panic in her voice.

Julia shook her head. “I only saw tomorrow,” she said, her eyes darting around the dining hall, which was starting to empty, campers heading off to their beds to rest their weary heads. Callie would have given anything to curl up on a fat sofa with her cashmere Ralph Lauren throw and a bag of burned popcorn, dozing off while watching some TV. It was Sunday night, and she was sure the girls in Dumbarton were doing exactly that right now, in their pajamas, fighting over the remote. Callie felt an intense wave of longing.

“But it started snowing when we were finishing up afternoon activities,” she protested. “What if it snows from now until then? They wouldn’t make me go then, right?”

Julia looked at her warningly as if to say,
Don’t count on it.
“By the way, your mother called today to check on you.”

Callie narrowed her eyes. “She called here?”

“She and Natasha have been talking every day,” Julia answered, nodding. She pushed the puddle of applesauce around her plate with her fork and glanced up at Callie slyly. “Did you really use a check from your mom to pay off your drug dealer?”

Callie’s eye’s bulged.
Her drug dealer?
And then it came to her. She’d told her mother she’d needed that giant check to the Miller Farm Foundation to help a friend out of a jam. But that was
exactly
what people said when they needed money to pay off their drug dealers! It was
always
for a friend. Her eyes scanned the room, noticing for the first time all the anxious looks on the other women’s faces, their nervous tics. She thought back to the therapy session with Natasha, and to Meri’s shoplifting addiction. Ohmigod. Was she in
rehab?

“Lights out in fifteen minutes,” Natasha bellowed, and the rest of the campers hurried to finish their dinners and get back to their rooms before darkness descended.

“Here, take this, too,” Meri said, pushing a rabbit’s foot on a diamond-encrusted key chain across the table.

“What’s this for?” Callie asked, gathering up her tray.

Meri hesitated. “For luck.”

“Yeah, good luck,” Julia said as she stood up from the table.

Callie stared at the rabbit’s foot. She wanted to ask Meri if she had stolen it, but that seemed beside the point. Waverly seemed so far away, like maybe it had never happened.

She snatched up the lucky charm and slipped it into the pocket of her overalls, praying she wouldn’t really need it.

Email Inbox

From:
[email protected]

To:
[email protected]; [email protected];[email protected]; [email protected];[email protected]; [email protected]

Date:
Monday, November 4, 11:15 A.M.

Subject:
Hells yeah!

Attention all BoW members,

Let’s give ourselves a big pat on the back for our successful first meeting. Pat, pat! Nice job, everyone, of putting on a successful sober act for Marymount.

Next meeting
TBA
. Someone else take responsibility for the refreshments, por favor.

Because I’d like our group to provide a warm, safe setting for talking about our problems, I suggest that in honor of Brandon, everyone pretty-please bring their favorite baby blanket to the next meeting. (And if anyone else slept with theirs until they were eleven too, let Brandon know so he doesn’t feel so awkward, k?) Bow-wow-wow!

Yours confidentially,

H.F.

Email Inbox

From:
[email protected]

To:
[email protected]

Date:
Monday, November 4, 2:19 P.M.

Subject:
Last Warning

Sebastian,

This is my final warning before I’m going to have to tell Mrs. Horniman that you’ve been unwilling to cooperate. I don’t know why you’ve been avoiding me—I’ve just been trying to help, but if you have a problem with me, maybe you should talk to Mrs. Horniman yourself and see if she can set you up with a tutor you can deal with.

Otherwise, let me know when would be a good time to meet this week.

B.M.

Email Inbox

From:
[email protected]

To:
[email protected]

Date:
Monday, November 4, 3:30 P.M.

Subject:
SOS!!!!!

T.

Ohmigod, you have to help me. I snuck into the main office here and only have a sec. Mom sent me to militant rehab camp in Maine-Whispering Pines or something. They think I’m a druggie! They’re going to send me out into the woods in a snowstorm tonight—I could totally die. Save me!!!

C.

Instant Message Inbox

AlanStGirard:
Hey, is it true what your BF is saying about his roomie?

KaraWhalen:
Huh? What’s he saying?

AlanStGirard:
That Brandon slept with a blankie until middle school! That’s so gay.

KaraWhalen:
He told you that?

AlanStGirard:
All the BoW brothers. Guess there’s no secrets between us!

KaraWhalen:
Apparently not.

Instant Message Inbox

SageFrancis:
Um, are people asking you about Brandon’s blankie?

KaraWhalen:
Yes! Three guesses who tipped them off.

SageFrancis:
Brandon’s going to
KILL
him….

KaraWhalen:
Not if I do it first.

Instant Message Inbox

KaraWhalen:
We need to talk.

HeathFerro:
Anything for you, sweets. Before dinner?

KaraWhalen:
Maxwell steps. Now.

HeathFerro:
Everything okay?

HeathFerro:
K?

Jenny lingered in the common room Monday after class, her eyelids heavy with sleep. She’d been avoiding her dorm room as much as possible, not wanting to be reminded of her stupid picnic with Drew yesterday. After storming out of her room, she’d sequestered herself in the laundry room, sitting on a dryer reading a yellowing copy of
Wuthering Heights
that had been abandoned there years ago. She stayed until visitation hours were over, and she could hear Drew’s heavy footsteps as he plodded down the stairs and out the front door. It was cowardly of her not to confront him, but she didn’t want to start a scene, drawing Dumbarton girls from their rooms to hear what all the screaming was about. Besides, it didn’t really matter what he had to say. After all, he was just an asshole. And she’d kind of almost slept with him.

Jenny shivered in the common room, wondering why Pardee had to be so stingy with the heat. She wrapped her CeCe marbled cotton cardigan tighter around her and tucked her feet under her on the blue velvet sofa. Never before had she felt like such a giant idiot—not when Easy had dumped her to go back to Callie, not when Julian had told her he’d been hooking up with Tinsley. Disgust swept over her body. Easy and Julian— whatever they’d done wrong, they certainly hadn’t meant her any harm. Drew clearly had only one thing on his mind.