The Ivy (5 page)

Are they for real with those outfits? she wondered incredulously. After all, it was one thing to enjoy
Gossip Girl
(ironically, of course) but quite another to emulate it in the dining hall.

Callie was making her way toward an empty table when she noticed Vanessa on the fringe of this group of her prep school peers. They seemed to be ignoring her. In fact, it looked as if Vanessa was about to fall off the end of the table.

Suddenly she glanced in Callie’s direction. Callie smiled and began walking forward, raising her hand in a wave. Vanessa looked straight at her and then, to Callie’s surprise, rotated in her seat: her back facing Callie as if she hadn’t seen her. Except that Callie was certain she had.

What a bitch!

Quickly Callie glanced at Matt’s group again, but there was nowhere to sit. Making her way across the room, she chose a table near the wall, as far away from the traitor as possible.

In a moment she was joined by Dana, whom she hadn’t even noticed lurking behind her. Grateful for the company, Callie tried to smile. Unfortunately the gesture was lost on Dana, whose head was bowed in prayer.

Dana might be strange, Callie thought as Dana began to eat in silence, but she was not obtuse. Callie knew they shouldn’t have ditched her before the Activities Fair.

Callie sighed. How would she ever manage to fit in at Harvard when she couldn’t even figure out where to sit in the dining hall?

“So . . . sign up for any cool activities?” Callie ventured.

“Bible Study.”

“Oh . . . neat . . . Anything else?”

“The Harvard Republican Club.”

Oh, well. Callie bolted down the rest of her lunch, anxious to return to her room so she could be alone and friendless in private, just a phone call away from Jessica or even her mom, since Evan still didn’t seem to be picking up. Standing, she made her way toward the line of people bussing their trays. Dana pulled a book from her bag and started to read.

Next time I’ll remember to bring a book, Callie thought as the line inched forward. That way I won’t look like such a ginormous loser—

Something hit her from behind. She started to fall, tripping over the tiny freshman boy who had catapulted out of nowhere. Her tray soared into the air and landed with a thunderous clatter, dishes breaking and food flying everywhere. Her hands flew to her skirt as she hit the ground, praying that she wasn’t about to flash the entire freshman class.

Oh no oh no oh NO
, she breathed miserably, closing her eyes. Opening them, she found a thousand other pairs staring back at her.

Damn.

The room had gone completely silent. Then slowly somebody began to clap.

In a whisper that echoed all the way from the stained glass windows to the ceiling and back to the floor, Gregory, still clapping, leaned into the center of his table and said:

“Now
that
is embarrassing.”

His entire table burst out laughing, and the applause swelled throughout the room. Some people started to whistle and catcall. Four hundred hands were whipping four hundred smart phones from purses and pockets, ready to etch the event in virtual stone, live-blogging from here to eternity. . . .

Status Update via Facebook:
S
OME BLOND GIRL JUST WIPED OUT IN
A
NNENBERG
!

Update via Twitter:
W
ITNESSING MOST EMBARRASSING MOMENT OF THE DECADE . . . HILARIOUS

Update via Twitter via Facebook:
G
LAD THAT WASN’T ME

SMS to Twitter:
E
PIC FALL IN THE FROSH D-HALL’FOOD EVERYWHERE

BlackBerry to Twitter via Facebook:
B
ET SOMEBODY’S GLAD SHE WORE UNDERWEAR TODAY . . .

“Who
is
she anyway?” the girl next to Gregory asked as the noise died down.

“Just some girl from California. I think she lives with Mimi,” another replied.

“California, hmm . . . I should have guessed. Honey, if you insist on wearing flip-flops, at
least
spring for a decent pedicure.”

There was another excruciating surge of laughter. “Poor Mimi, no wonder she’s already depressed. . . .” Vanessa’s laughter was the loudest of them all.

Uber-bitch!

Callie barely noticed the hands that were grabbing her and helping her to her feet.

“Come on,” Matt said, putting an arm around her shoulders and leading her toward the door. She tried to thank him, but instead she could only nod, resisting the urge to sprint the rest of the way home.

Chapter Three
Worse than a phone call
;

N
OT AS
B
AD AS A
P
OST-IT . . .

B
ETTER
T
HAN A
T
EXT
M
ESSAGE
?

C
allie?” a voice called from the hall, followed by a knock on the door. “Callie—you have to get out of bed. We have to go to—”

There was a pause, followed by muffled whispering.

“Maybe we should just let her sleep?”

“I don’t know . . . she’s been in there for two days.”

Vanessa knocked again, Mimi lingering uncertainly at her heels. “I’m going in there,” Vanessa said decisively.

Callie groaned and pulled the blankets over her head.

“Callie?” Vanessa asked. “We were wondering if you want to come to the dining hall? For dinner? And then afterward there’s the First Chance Dance. . . .”

Callie groaned again. “Leave me alone. I just want to sleep.”

“All right, well, you heard the girl: she wants to sleep,” said Mimi, backing away.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Vanessa snapped, stepping forward and yanking the covers off of Callie’s bed.

“Hey!” Callie yelled, sitting up.

“That’s more like it,” said Vanessa. “Now look alive because dinner’s in ten minutes.”

Callie’s eyes traveled from Vanessa—hands on her hips, a stern expression on her face—to Mimi, who was hovering uncomfortably near the door.

“Look, guys, I appreciate your concern, but I really just want to be left a—”

“Nonsense.” Vanessa cut her off. “We’d ask you what’s wrong, but the walls are so thin that everybody already knows. Basically, I don’t care if this Evan character looks like Jude Law or if his farts are magical. . . . He sounds like an asshole, and
nobody
is worth two full days of moping.”

“Yes, and you look absolutely terrible—like shit,” added Mimi, trying to get into the spirit of things.

Vanessa glared. “Mimi, that’s not exactly . . .”

Callie began to laugh. And cry. “I just can’t believe I wasted two years of my life. . . . And in an
e-mail
. . . I mean, really?”

The silence that followed was unbroken save for the operatic sounds of Dana singing gospel on the way from the bathroom to her bedroom.

“Back home,” Mimi said thoughtfully, “we have this saying. ‘If the horse throws you off . . . buy a new one.’”

“Sage advice.” Vanessa laughed. “‘There are other fish in the sea.’”

“That cannot be right,” said Mimi, shaking her head. “It is: ‘go fishing in another sea—’”

“I’ll be okay,” Callie cut in, hiccupping and wiping her eyes. “You guys are right—and anyway, I’m starving. Just give me ten minutes.”

“Thank god,” said Vanessa.

Fifteen minutes later they joined Dana at a table in Annenberg. It was nearly eight o’clock, so the dining hall was emptier than usual.

“Hi. How are you . . . all doing?” Dana asked, glancing at Callie and then averting her eyes.

“I’m all right,” Callie answered, trying to smile. “I’m just glad it’s only us girls—”

“Is this seat taken?” Gregory asked Mimi, sitting without waiting for an answer.

“Evening, ladies,” said Matt, grinning and taking the seat next to Gregory.

“Whoa . . . who died?” Gregory asked as they were joined by his other two roommates.

“Nobody died,” said Dana primly.

“Hi, Gregory; hi, Matt. And you are . . . ?” Vanessa asked, turning to the other two as if she hadn’t already conducted her own private investigation via Google and Facebook.

“I’m Adam,” said the small pale boy on Matt’s left. “And this is Okecha—uhm—Okuchu—uhm— Hey, man, how do you pronounce it again?”

“Just call me ‘OK,’” the large Nigerian said in his beautiful British accent. “That’s what everybody calls me at home.”

“Okay, OK, your word is my command,” sang Vanessa.

“Nobody’s ever made that pun before, clever—well done, you . . .” he said absentmindedly as his eyes locked on Mimi. Clearing his throat, he nudged Gregory.

“Pardon me,” said Gregory. “This is Mimi; that’s Vanessa”—Vanessa beamed—“and her name is . . . Casey.”

“Callie,” Callie snapped.

“Right. Callie. And you are . . . ?” Gregory looked at Dana.

“It’s Dana, isn’t it?” Adam asked. Dana nodded. “I thought I recognized you from Bible Study,” he said, smiling.

Dana didn’t say a word, but she had suddenly turned very pink.

“So Blondie, where are you from?” OK asked Callie, tearing his eyes away from Mimi.

“Westwood, California? It’s part of LA.”

“LA as in Hollywood?” OK began. “And you ended up all the way out here at Harvard, eh? Just like—”

“Seriously?” Callie interrupted, dropping her spoon with a clatter. “You really want to go there? Yes, we’ve all seen the movie, and yes, we all know that blondes are supposed to be dumb, and yes, it
is
a shocking phenomenon that I have blond hair and I got into Harvard. . . . Go ahead, say it. I know you’re dying to, so just get it out there. . . .”

OK glanced helplessly from Gregory to Matt. “Just like that girl Elizabeth? Who lives on the floor above us? She’s from LA, too.” He stopped abruptly, looking a little scared.

“Oh,” said Callie softly. “Oh, uhm . . .” The urge to cry had returned in full force.

Matt began to laugh. “I’m guessing people make a lot of
Legally Blonde
jokes around you, huh?”

Callie nodded, relieved as the others joined in his laughter, save for Mimi, OK, and Dana, who hadn’t the faintest clue what was so funny.

“So, going to the dance tonight?” Gregory asked, changing the subject and looking, for some reason, at Callie.

“I don’t think—”

“Yes, she is,” Mimi said firmly.

Vanessa chose this moment to lean in and stage-whisper, “She’s a little upset. Her boyfriend—or should we say ex-boyfriend—Evan, just dumped her. In an
e-mail
.”

Matt’s eyes lit up like a kid’s on Christmas morning: “That sucks. . . .”

“Yeah, sorry—rotten luck,” added OK.

Mimi shrugged. “I have something that might make you feel better,” she murmured, slipping a flask from her purse. And then before anyone could stop her: “One for you, one for you,” she said, spiking Callie and Vanessa’s drinks, “one for you, whoops—two for me, and one for—”

Dana’s eyes expanded to the size of saucers. She slammed her hand over her cup.

“Relax, it’s just water,” said Mimi.

Callie sipped her drink. More like water . . . and
vodka
.

Vanessa made a face. “I mean, it
could
be worse,” she said. “At least it’s not as bad as a Post-it note. Remember that episode of
Sex and the City
? Now
that
was brutal. ‘I’m sorry, I can’t,’ stuck right on Carrie’s computer screen!”

Callie frowned. News flash, Vanessa: Carrie isn’t real. Fictional characters don’t feel pain.

“Well, whoever that Evan guy is, he’s an idiot,” said Gregory suddenly.

What? Was Satan’s minion actually saying something nice for a—

“Who comes to college with a girlfriend in the first place? Total buzzkill,” he finished, drinking straight from Mimi’s flask.

“Thanks for that, Gregory, thanks a lot.” Callie retorted. “Or wait—I’m sorry, was it Geoffrey?”

Gregory grinned.

“So . . . I take it you don’t have a girlfriend?” Vanessa asked.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he answered, his eyes never leaving Callie’s face.

“I don’t either!” Matt blurted suddenly. Everyone stared. “Have a girlfriend, I mean . . . I don’t have a girlfriend either. Not that I wouldn’t dream of it. . . . I would. I mean, I do. . . . I mean . . .”

Dana, for the first time all evening, was nodding her head approvingly. “While I don’t think that it’s any of our business,” she began, eyeing the rest of the table, “I think that’s very sensible of you, Gregory. If I were you, Callie, I would view this . . . situation . . . as a positive development. College is
not
the appropriate time for a boyfriend, especially not a long-distance one. Why, just think of all the extra time you’ll have to focus on your studies!”

“I couldn’t agree more,” said Adam (and Dana’s smile suddenly seemed a little frozen). “People our age tend to become far too preoccupied with relationships when they should really be concentrating on school and extracurriculars and figuring out who they want to be when they grow up instead of chasing the opposite—”

“
Hell-
o, five o’clock.” Gregory whistled suddenly, nudging OK, who followed his gaze to where a cute blond girl in a short skirt was bending over to pick up her napkin.

“Nice enough,” OK agreed. “But nothing compared to present company,” he added, smiling at Mimi. Mimi yawned.

“Looks like she’s coming over here,” Matt said as the girl approached their table.

“Hi!” said Gregory. “I’m Gregory Bolton. How can I be of service to you?”

“Gregory . . . ?” she asked, furrowing her brow.

“Yes?” he said, smiling in a way that even Callie had to admit was totally swoon-worthy.

“Why didn’t you call me back last night,” she said, lowering her voice. It was an accusation, not a question.

“Oh! Oh, right,” he said, attempting—and failing—to mask his confusion. “Sorry . . . uh . . .”

“Elizabeth,” she hissed.

“Elizabeth!” OK cried. “Elizabeth who lives upstairs! Elizabeth is also from LA,” he said smugly, turning to Callie, exonerated.

Callie tried to smile sympathetically at Elizabeth, who stood there seething. After all, if she didn’t already know better, it could have been her standing there in Elizabeth’s shoes, even though, supposedly, she wasn’t Gregory’s
type.
. . . Hey—wait a minute! With her light blond hair and athletic build Elizabeth could have been mistaken for her sister. Really not your type?! she thought, glaring at Gregory.

“Well, I’m glad to see that
somebody
remembers my name,” Elizabeth said, giving Gregory a hard look. “God! I should have known better. . . .”

“According to Alexis Thorndike, dormcest is never a good idea,” Vanessa offered.

The girl glared at the entire table and then stalked off, muttering.

“Whoopsie daisy,” said Mimi. It was unclear whether this was in response to Gregory’s run-in, or the fact that she had just accidentally tipped the remaining contents of the flask into her orange juice.

“I think it’s time for us to go get ready for the dance,” said Vanessa.

Mimi drained her glass in one gulp. “Lez-go!” she said, standing dizzily. Promptly she fell back in her seat.

Dana, to everyone’s shock, giggled.

Mimi looked at Callie, held up her flask, pointed at Dana, and put a finger to her lips.

It was shaping up to be a very long night. . . .

Lady Gaga blared out of the speakers at the First Chance Dance, telling the students that if they “just danced it’s gonna be okay, spin that record, babe, and it’s gonna be okay . . .”

“She’s singing about ME!” OK screamed, gyrating in some crazy blend of break dancing and ballroom.

“Huh?” Mimi yelled back.

“I love this song!” Vanessa shouted at Gregory.

“Yeah, me too,” he agreed, looking at Callie.

One tequila, two tequila, three tequila, four . . .

Somebody was asking Callie to dance. It was Gregory. No, it was Matt . . . Matt-Gregory was telling her she looked pretty. . . .

“Thank you!” Callie screamed at Vanessa as she handed her another drink.

“Where
are
we?” somebody yelled.

“Lowell House.”

“No, this is the quad!”

“What? This isn’t the First Chance Dance?” Dana cried, sounding panicked.

“No, this is the
Last
Chance Dance!”

“What?”

“Last chance to party before classes start!”

One tequila, two tequila, three tequila, four . . . five tequila, six tequila, seven tequila, more . . .

Matt-Gregory was dancing with someone else now, but Gregory-Matt was still dancing with Callie. . . .

OK looked upset that Mimi wasn’t more impressed by his ballroom skills. “Did I mention that I’m a prince? I’M A PRINCE!” he yelled.