Jenny tried to make brushing her teeth look interesting, but there was only so much she could do beyond staring at herself in the mirror and raising her eyebrows.
“Get her shampoo,” Izzy directed as Jenny kept brushing. As Kaitlin trained the camera on Jenny’s shower caddy, Jenny took the opportunity to spit into the sink, relieved that the camera hadn’t caught that. At least her teeth were clean. Did they really want to make a film about the beauty products she used? Jenny felt a surge of panic that her ratty blue toothbrush and her Clearasil pore-cleansing pads would make her look very uncool. But she took a deep breath and squirted a dollop of Burt’s Bees Orange Essence face wash into her hands. She rubbed it into her face as the camera zoomed back in and she thanked God she’d plucked her eyebrows the night before. And put away her box of Tampax Ultra.
“Soooo…,” Claire said cheerfully as she leaned against the toilet stall and eyed Jenny. “We know you’ve hooked up with lots of hot guys on campus,” she prompted in a gossipy tone. “Like Easy Walsh.”
“And Julian McCafferty,” Izzy jumped in, her blue eyes wide. “He’s in my English class, and he’s sooo hot.”
“So tell us,” Claire prodded, her bobbed hair moving in time. Jenny felt a rush of pride. This was much more interesting than her facial routine… but who was going to see the video? Should she really talk about something so… private? “What was that like?” Claire’s eyes widened expectantly.
Jenny smiled modestly for the camera. “There are certain details a lady can never divulge,” she said slowly, dabbing her face with a rosemary-water-soaked cotton ball. The three girls looked crestfallen and Kaitlin lowered the camera a little, disappointed. The old panic Jenny felt to please everyone in the room reared. The tooth brushing had almost put them to sleep—the least she could do was give them something interesting. After all, they had chosen her, Jenny Humphrey, to be the subject of their film project. They could have asked anyone—but they wanted her story.
Jenny tucked a brown curl behind her ear and slowly answered. “But… I can say… my fling with Julian was really kind of intense.” The girls giggled excitedly and Kaitlin trained the camera on Jenny again. Jenny felt like she was on stage, and she desperately wanted to wow her audience.
In reality, the few times she’d kissed Julian—wonderful as they had been at the time—had slowly faded from her memory, but that wasn’t exactly dramatic enough. She tried to imagine what Tinsley or Callie or Brett would say. “He’s a great kisser,” she added, leaning toward the mirror and smiling at her image conspiratorially. The freshmen girls cooed.
Unfortunately, they weren’t the only ones listening. Tinsley stood in the hallway, shower caddy in hand. Not willing to wait at the third-floor bathroom for a free shower stall, she’d thrown her tissue-soft Calvin Klein robe over her skimpy Cosabella jammies and headed upstairs to use her old bathroom. She’d paused at the door when she’d heard voices.
When she heard the words “My fling with Julian was really intense.… He’s a great kisser,” she almost let her shower caddy clatter to the floor. Even though Tinsley had been snooping around all week, trying to figure out whom Julian had slept with, she realized now that she wasn’t ready to hear it. Especially not from the unmistakable voice of cute-as-a-button Jenny Humphrey.
Intense? Jenny? Was it possible that she’d actually… slept with Julian?
All of a sudden, the past month of friendship—when she’d more or less forgiven that wannabe for stumbling into Waverly and stealing all her thunder—disappeared from Tinsley’s mind. Gone were all memories of her and Jenny and Callie, bonding in the upstairs common room over popcorn and margaritas and bad movies, or late-night gabfests over pizza and Diet Coke. Why had she ever been fooled by Jenny’s sugar-sweet attitude and sparkling, innocent brown eyes?
She stole Easy Walsh from Callie practically her first week on campus, and then she’d taken Julian. And deflowered him. That bitch.
Tinsley’s eyes burned with anger as she pushed open the door to find Jenny staring at herself in the mirror, three dorky freshmen scattered around her. She’d forgotten about the freshman fan club.
“Good morning!” Jenny smiled cheerfully. Her cheeks were flushed and her whole face looked dewy. Tinsley eyed the three girls crowded around Jenny as if she were a Greek deity or something. Jenny was really letting these losers film her in those cutesy pajamas? Was she mentally defective?
“Is this a bathroom, or The Hills: Prep School Years?” Tinsley asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. The girls tittered uncomfortably. The one with orange hair in pigtails that stuck straight out from her head spun around and fixed her camera on Tinsley.
“Oh, sorry.” Jenny’s warm brown eyes widened. She just looked so sweet and innocent it made Tinsley want to puke. For a second, it was hard to believe that this girl, in her gray pajamas covered in tiny rosebuds, had actually slept with Julian. Could she have jumped to conclusions too quickly? “We were just sort of… filming.”
But then Tinsley remembered how she’d first found out Jenny and Julian were hooking up. Julian had been hooking up with Tinsley at the time, and she’d thought all was well and good between them—until, at the Cinephiles party at the Miller farm, she’d come across Jenny and Julian, sitting on a tree stump, kissing tenderly. It all came back to her like a lightning flash, and Tinsley felt her legs wobble. What had she been thinking, trusting Jenny after she’d stolen Julian from her once already? She was a serial boyfriend-stealer—and she’d managed to steal Julian’s virginity, too.
“I’m not an idiot. I can see that.” Tinsley threw her towel over the top of one of the curtain rods. “But I’m taking a shower. If you don’t want a lawsuit on your hands, you can turn the fucking camera off.” The orange-haired Pippi Longstocking quickly clicked off the camera and looked about ready to wet her pants.
Tinsley threw her bathrobe and pajamas onto the hook on the ceramic-tiled wall and tugged the shower curtain closed behind her. Instead of waiting for the water to heat up, she stepped directly into the freezing spray, hoping to calm down a little. But all she could think about was how Julian—sweet, sexy Julian—had cared enough about stupid little ho-bag Jenny to actually waste his V-card on her.
“Wow,” Jenny said brightly, once the sound of running water filled the bathroom. “Someone must have had a bad night.” But her insides were shaking. She couldn’t believe how rude Tinsley had been. Even if Tinsley did have a really bad night… it didn’t mean she could be so insulting to Jenny. And in front of people. People with a video camera.
While in the past, she might have crumbled in the face of Tinsley’s bitchy cruelty, Jenny was not about to take this lying down. She’d show Tinsley Carmichael exactly what she was made of.
* * *
Owl Net
Instant Message Inbox
* * *
EmilyJenkins:
Did u see Jenny and her film crew today? So cute!
AlisonQuentin:
Totally. I kinda want some freshmen to worship me.
EmilyJenkins:
Think they do her laundry?
AlisonQuentin:
Speaking of. My SS sent me a pack of Days of the Week thongs.
EmilyJenkins:
U wearing them?
AlisonQuentin:
Got Saturday written all over me!
* * *
14
A WAVERLY OWL KNOWS THAT A GIFT IS JUST A GIFT.
“Can we sneak into the Cinephiles screening room and watch a movie tonight?” Julian murmured into Tinsley’s ear on Sunday afternoon. They were sitting on his dorm room bed, Julian’s hands on Tinsley’s shoulders as he massaged them. She’d pulled a muscle that morning when she’d gone to the gym and tried to work out her murderous energy by kickboxing. Some kind of jazzy music Tinsley didn’t recognize was playing on his Harman Kardon stereo, and outside, the sun was starting to set, filling the room with the last of its dying rays. It would have been romantic, but all she
could think about was Jenny and Julian. Julian and Jenny. Had they done it in this room? On this bed? To this music?
“Huh?” Tinsley said, shaking the horrible images from her brain. This had to stop. She knew she was being childish— whatever Julian had done in the past didn’t involve her, and “ that was just the way it was. She needed to get over it. “The screening room?”
“You remember it?” Julian teased, giving her shoulders a gentle squeeze. “Let’s put something romantic on the screen and…” he trailed off.
Tinsley felt the smile coming back to her face. Okay, she told herself, pep-talk style. Let’s just get back to where we were earlier this week. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the feel of Julian’s hands on her shoulders. “And do what?” she prompted, in a husky voice.
Julian leaned forward, his breath close to her ear. Tinsley suddenly felt warm in her black Free People sweaterdress and she leaned back against Julian. He was about to answer when there was a knock on the door.
Julian kissed her neck softly, sending shivers through her whole body, before standing up and opening the door. No one was there, but on the floor was a small package, neatly wrapped in paper. “Looks like my Secret Satan was here,” Julian said with a smirk, tossing the red package on his desk.
“You’re not going to open it?” Tinsley asked, suddenly suspicious. What was Julian trying to hide? Tinsley certainly wouldn’t have been afraid to show him her gifts—not that they were anything to write home about. Everyone had been getting super-dirty things, but all Tinsley had was a bottle of olive oil—she didn’t even want to think about that one—and a gift card to a music store. Just plain random. What was Julian hiding?
Julian shrugged and grabbed the box. “Sure.” Okay, maybe he wasn’t hiding anything, Tinsley thought guiltily. She glanced over his shoulder as he unwrapped the package and pulled out a DVD.
“What is it? Girls Gone Wild?” Tinsley laughed.
Julian flipped the DVD over and Tinsley’s mouth dropped when she saw To Have and Have Not, one of the most romantic movies of all time. “Cool.” Julian pried the plastic covering off it, oblivious to Tinsley’s discomfort. It was one of her favorite movies—you could practically see Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall fall in love on-screen.
Tinsley snatched the movie from Julian’s hands and flipped it over, staring miserably at the black-and-white photographs on the back. This was ten thousand times worse than any stupid soft-core porn—this was actually a thoughtful gift, bought by someone who wanted to give Julian something he’d really like. From someone who really liked him.
Or loved him. The room started to spin and Tinsley’s tongue felt heavy in her mouth, as if she’d just done a shot of Gold-schläger.
“I’ve actually never seen it.” Julian leaned against the back of his wooden chair and crossed his arms over his chest. He had on a faded blue long-sleeve T-shirt that read elliott bay book company, and he raised an eyebrow flirtatiously. “Wanna go to the screening room and watch it?”
But Tinsley was already on her feet, sliding her shaking feet back into her black crocheted Uggs. She had to get out of there. She needed some fresh air and a chance to calm down. “I can’t. I’ve, uh, got an Italian test tomorrow.” Completely rattled, Tinsley touched her lips to Julian’s cheek for a quick kiss before slipping on her coat. She hurried off before he could say another word.
Tinsley rushed past a flock of freshmen in the boys’ front lounge, one of them holding up a pair of handcuffs lined with pink fur. She hardly noticed—she couldn’t think about anything but who could have given Julian To Have and Have Not. She knew it was silly, and maybe masochistic of her, but the name she kept coming back to as she stomped across campus was Jenny. She’d had Julian—in more ways than one, apparently—and now she didn’t. But maybe she wanted him back? Tinsley leaned down and scooped up a handful of snow. She packed it into a tight ball and hurled it in the direction of Dumbarton. It exploded against a first-floor window.
“Did you just throw a snowball at the window?” Callie asked lazily as Tinsley stomped through the front door. She was curled up in one of the Dumbarton common room’s oversize leather armchairs, her fuzzy peach cashmere blanket wrapped up around her.
“No,” Tinsley lied, stamping the snow off her boots onto the mat in the foyer. Angelica Pardee, their recently separated dorm parent, had instituted a mandatory Sunday afternoon common area cleaning hour, when all the girls had to pick up the thumbed-through copies of Cosmopolitan and Vogue, assorted abandoned textbooks, crumpled potato chip bags, and empty Diet Sprite cans that had collected in the common room over the week. It was annoying, but at least now the slate blue room was spotless.
On the velvety navy couch, Jenny was sprawled out with a pink plaid flannel blanket across her legs. Her dark hair was falling in loose curls framing her face, and she looked tiny in an oversize Waverly sweatshirt. At the other end of the couch sat Brett, who nodded her head at Tinsley.
Jenny smiled shyly at Tinsley, as if afraid Tinsley would lash out at her again like she’d done in the bathroom. “We’re watching When Harry Met Sally. Come join us.” Jenny grabbed the remote and paused the movie—an undeniably sweet gesture.
But it was also “sweet” of someone to give Julian a copy of To Have and Have Not. Jenny certainly could have had someone drop it off at Julian’s room. While hanging out with Jenny was just about the last thing Tinsley felt like doing right now, she was savvy enough to know that maybe this was just the opportunity she needed. “’Kay,” Tinsley replied hesitantly. She left her boots at the door and plopped onto an empty couch, tucking her legs up beneath her.
A miniature illustrated copy of the Kama Sutra sat on the coffee table. Tinsley’s eyes widened as she saw it. “Whose is that?” It was open to a drawing of two naked people doing what looked like some kind of handstand.
“Rifat got it in her box today.” Callie giggled, pulling her blanket up to her chin. “Check out page seventy-eight.”
“I’m so tired of everyone being so perverted,” Brett fumed, shaking her head. Her fire-red hair bobbed furiously around her face as she crossed her arms over her chest. Jenny had finally told Brett—who had been totally on edge for the past week organizing the Holiday Ball—about the noxious Secret Satan e-mail goading everyone into buying dirty gifts for their secret person. “I’ve seen like five people carrying around candies shaped like penises.”
“I haven’t given Ryan Reynolds anything nearly that interesting. He’s perverted enough already.” Tinsley yawned, stretching out on her sofa like a cat. She grabbed the buttercream chenille throw on the back of the couch and wrapped it around her legs. “What about you, Jenny? Who do you have?”
Jenny bristled, sensing that Tinsley was somehow planning an ambush. She’d been so rude the other morning in the bathroom—now she wanted to know who Jenny was giving gifts to? Why, so she could make fun of her for that, too? If Jenny told her she had dorky Yvonne Stidder—who she’d overheard in the dining hall yesterday complaining about the boring jar of bath salts she’d gotten—she’d never hear the end of it. “There’s a reason they call it Secret Santa, you know,” Jenny joked, trying to keep the annoyance out of her voice.
Tinsley’s violet eyes narrowed, and Jenny felt her pulse quicken. She definitely didn’t want to return to the early days of their relationship, when Tinsley was always on the verge of strangling her. “But look what I got today,” Jenny quickly added, tilting her head back and forth to show off the tiny, Victorian-looking barrettes with green crystal dragonflies at the tips.
“Wow.” Brett leaned forward to examine the barrettes that held back Jenny’s loose braids. “Pretty. At least one person on campus isn’t a pervert.”
“And I also got a little set of Philosophy shampoos and bath gel—in Caramel Mocha Latte and Café au Lait. Smell my hair.” Jenny leaned toward Brett, who sniffed and gave the thumbs-up.
Big deal, Tinsley thought. So she smelled like a fucking coffeehouse. But inside she s
eethed. How come Jenny—and Julian—were both getting sweet, thoughtful gifts and all she was getting was olive oil?
Callie took a giant sip from the oversize bottle of Evian and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “All I got was a pair of knitting needles. And a framed photograph of an orange tabby cat with a pink scarf around its neck.” Callie made a face. “’Cause I’m an old maid, apparently.”
“I forgot, T—someone dropped this off for you.” Brett lifted a lumpy package and tossed it over to Tinsley. It was wrapped in white tissue paper and covered in hearts.
“Thanks,” Tinsley answered, feeling the package. It was kind of weird that she and Brett were being nice to each other recently, but it was also a relief. When they’d first been forced to live together in their small first-floor room, it had been positively torture, and each had gone out of her way to annoy the other. But so much time had passed that now the feuding-roommate act was hard to keep up. Tinsley had thought she’d been angry at Brett for letting her get expelled from Waverly after the E incident the June before, and Brett had been mad at her for… what again? Eric Dalton, the super-hot teacher who’d tried to sleep with them both? That seemed like lifetimes ago.
“What is it?” Callie asked eagerly as Tinsley tore into the package. She tossed the cheesy wrapping paper to the floor and unfolded a white T-shirt. The cheaply ironed-on design read Virginia Is for Lovers, with a heart inside a jagged outline of the state of Virginia. Tinsley blinked her eyes. What?
Suddenly, it was the last clue in the puzzle. Extra-virgin olive oil, the gift card to Virgin Megastore. Virgin-ia? Her seemingly random gifts were about her being a virgin?! Someone was definitely fucking with her. She crumbled the T-shirt up in a ball and chucked it at Callie, who ducked out of the way. “My Secret Satan is making fun of me for being a virgin? What a jerk.”