“When did that happen?” Seth asked. After all, Alec had only become legally able to drink two months ago.
“None of your business, dude. Just give me a shirt,” Alec said.
“Fine,” Seth grumbled. He trudged to his walk-in closet and threw Alec an ironed white dress shirt.
“Thanks, man,” Alec said, and he shut he door behind him as he left.
Seth threw himself back on the bed, ready to go back to sleep. In fact, his eyes shut for about three minutes, and then his stupid alarm went off. He shook his head to wake himself and hit the off button. He hated it when he just fell back into sleep and then the alarm rang. It happened about three times a week and it annoyed him more than anything else.
* * * * *
Up in her penthouse, Brooklyn still lay in bed cocooned in her purple silk Armani sheets. It was the sunlight streaming in that caused her to finally open her eyes. That and Cecily’s authoritative voice ordering her to wake up.
“Up, Brooklyn. Up. We’ve got a big big day ahead of us. There’s just so much to do,” Cecily complained. Then she shook herself. What must be done must be done.
She ordered her daughter out of bed. It was like no one but her really cared about deadlines and being on time. They had to be at Javier’s in half and hour and Brooklyn still wasn’t out of bed. Cecily was already in her prim black pencil skirt and crisp red blouse and whirling all over the house in her Mui Mui heels, prepping for everything imaginable.
When her daughter was finally downstairs, Cecily ordered her to eat fast. Javier should not be kept waiting. When they were finally leaving the house, Brooklyn felt rushed, hurried, and not at all enthusiastic. She watched the city zoom past her while Cecily texted her party planners until they reached there. Javier was a small skinny man with a bubbly enthusiasm that made Brooklyn want to slap him every time they met. As soon as they were there, he waddled out of the building to meet them. He greeted them excitedly in his French accent.
“Cecily, Brooklyn, how very nize eet eez to see you again. Come with moi,” he said, leading them both into the building. Brooklyn had been here countless times with Cecily, and the waiting room was very familiar to her. Not that she’d ever had to wait there. Cecily was Javier’s favorite customer. He never kept her waiting. He led them down the white hallway to their normal fitting room. Dresses were strewn everywhere.. Some were on pedestals, some on hangers, and others spread across the couches. Javier wasn’t the most organized person.
His assistant was already there, a blonde lady with drawn eyebrows and a bun that was wound tightly at the nape of her neck. Javier had her and Cecily stand on elevated platforms and began measuring them. Brooklyn’s mind wandered. Everything was going perfectly—who knew a boy was all she needed to feel good again? She’d been following Seth since eighth grade and it felt good to finally stop. It felt good to be satisfied. She couldn’t have found a better replacement.
Suddenly she froze. Replacement? Not, Lance wasn’t a replacement, he was the one. Well she didn’t know that yet, but she did know that she was done with Seth.
“How eez theez one, ma chérie?” Javier asked, breaking her form her thoughts. Brooklyn stepped down from the platform and walked to the mirror. Javier had put her in a red dress. It was really beautiful. It was strapless with a sweetheart neckline and was made of layers and layers of overlapping embroidered lace. It hugged her wiry thin body everywhere until it ended at midthigh. Once again, Javier had gotten it exactly right. With her black Jimmy Choo heels, Brooklyn knew she’d look amazing.
“I love it. It’s perfect,” Brooklyn told him. Javier gave her a little bow. Brooklyn turned to her mother, who was being fitted into a dark blue dress. “Mom, I’m going to leave. I’ll be back before dinner, okay?” she said.
“Okay, sweetie. Bye,” her mother said.
Brooklyn changed into her own skinny jeans and high necked Armani sweater and walked into the street. Snow fell all around her, catching onto her lashes and the ends of her hair. It was a white Christmas, just like all Christmases in New York. Unlike many New Yorkers, Brooklyn didn’t brush it off. Since she was little she’d liked to let it say. Pretending she was an ice princess.
She hailed a cab and sped off towards Barneys where she had to get her shopping done. Once there, she picked up a new Coach purse for her mother, and one of those Cartier watches for Romeo. She found a beautiful Alice + Olivia scarf for Alexia. That left two people—Lance and Seth. She scanned aisles for hours, but couldn’t find anything right. And then she came across a box. It was beautifully designed—jewel encrusted and everything. She lifted the lid and screamed as an evil looking jack in the box popped at her. After her heart started beating again, she laughed. She knew what she was getting Seth. Jack in the Boxes had been Seth’s favorite toy since she’d known him. Of course, he didn’t have one anymore, but it would remind him of their childhood. Finally, she picked up a green cashmere sweater for Lance and swiped her shiny Amex to buy them. She came home at eight, laden with gifts.
Romeo was at the door when she opened it, talking to a guy his age with jet black hair and pale skin. His eyes looked a little sunken in and he was as thin as her favorite credit card. Brooklyn stared. He looked Goth. Hopefully, he wouldn’t rub off on Romeo.
Her brother looked up at her and smiled. “Brook this is my friend, Ty. Ty, this is my sister, Brooklyn,” Brooklyn gave him a little wave and then went to her room to stash away her gifts until tomorrow. She’d give them out at the gala.
At dinner, Romeo talked non-stop about Ty. How he wanted to be a painter and how he was so cool. “Is he Goth or something?” Brooklyn asked.
Romeo frowned. “Everyone thinks that. He’s not. He’s new at school and he doesn’t have many friends, so I thought I’d help him out. The gala will be a perfect way for him to meet people.”
Brooklyn stared at her brother, wondering again how he was so good. Romeo was so nice to everybody. She didn’t know how he did it. “Oh, that’s great,” was all she said though.
* * * * *
Ty Brenson rummaged through his closet, searching for that tux. He knew he had one from somewhere. Where was the damn thing?
Finally, it was in his hands. He smiled triumphantly and put it on. He understood why people called it a monkey suit. It was so uncomfortable. But people on the Upper East Side probably wore them every day. And it was not like he could show up to the gala in his jeans and T-shirt. They’d probably kicked him out, and it would be embarrassing for his only friend, Romeo.
When Tyler first met him, he’d thought Romeo was just another one of those elite New York snobs. One with an extremely pretentious name like Romeo. But as he got to know him, he realized that Romeo was extremely grounded, and nice. That was more than he’d expected from this kind of people.
His mother had lived here when she was little—not on the Upper East Side, but in the one of those suburbs of New York where regular people lived. She’d gone to the same elite prep schools through scholarships, but moved out immediately after graduation. She’d told him stories. About how everyone here was horrible and money-obsessed. She’d never wanted to come back. But after she had died, leaving him completely alone, Ty had asked to get a foster family here. He felt that this was the only place where he felt like he could be with his mother again. Everywhere he walked, every chair he sat in, he wondered if his mother had been there too.
He combed his hair back and left the house, leaving a note for his foster mother. He took a cab to the Ryder penthouse and an elevator to their floor. A stiff looking butler opened the door and let him in, looking disapprovingly at his slightly crumpled dress shirt. Ty ignored him and sought out Romeo in the crowd of dressed up adults. There was a tap on his shoulder. He spun around and found himself face to face with Romeo’s older sister, Brooklyn. She was very pretty and her dark green eyes made his heart beat faster. She was only one year older than him and Romeo, and he couldn’t help having a small crush on her. Especially today, especial
ly with that dress she was wearing. Her long auburn hair fell to her waist in a straight shiny halo and in her black heels, they were the same height.
“Are you looking for Romeo?” she asked. He nodded. “Oh well, all the young people are somewhere else. Here, come with me,” she said, talking his hand. Her touch send sparks up his arms. She led him through the crowds, through two hallways, and into one giant room where everyone under the age of twenty seemed to be. They were all formally dressed, but no one was acting like it. There was a minibar there and many people were surrounding it, downing shots one by one. One couch was laden with people, many on other’s laps. The room was crowded, but he spied Romeo in the corner talking to a blonde girl. She was wearing a midnight blue strapless dress and was smiling up at him.
Romeo turned to him when he came over.
“Hey, man,” he said excitedly.
Brooklyn watched them, wondering where Lance and Seth were. Alexia was talking to both Ty and Romeo, looking very pretty in her blue dress. She’d been hovering around the front door for at least fifteen minutes, but neither of them had come. She’d come across Romeo’s friend, looking lost but kind of dashing in his slightly rumpled tux. Brooklyn made her way back to the door. Harold, their butler, stared at her weirdly. Brooklyn shrugged it off. Suddenly, the doorbell rang. She jumped, like she had the last twenty times it had rung. This time, however, she was rewarded. Harold opened the door and she peered over his shoulder and found herself looking at Lance. He smiled at her and hugged her, then handed her a small box with a red ribbon.
“Merry Christmas,” he whispered in her ear.
She shivered slightly at his sound of is voice and opened the box. Inside was a beautiful silver necklace, with a charm carved into the word BEAUTY. Brooklyn gazed at it and then Lance, before throwing her arms around him and thanking him. She gave him his present and they made their way into the house.
It was only after she had downed three shots did she see Seth across the room. Something inside her broke—her determination. She’d almost managed to convince herself that she didn’t care about him anymore. Just two minutes before, with Lance’s arm around her, she’d believed it. But seeing him, she knew that she was wrong. She was still in love with him. She watched him mingle and smile, his dark hair flopping in his eyes. She wanted so much to just reach out and brush it away. To feel its softness in her hands.
She shook her head, ordering herself to stop. She glanced at Lance. She had him, he was perfect. What more did she need? She was being stupid, hung up on Seth. Filled with an anger she couldn’t place, Brooklyn took another shot glass and drained it.
“Hey, easy there,” Lance said, taking the glass from her and stroking her face.
Why did his hands that only a few seconds ago felt soft and beautiful now feel heavy and moist? She shrugged away from him and drained another glass. “Are you okay?” he asked her concernedly.
“I’m fine,” she snapped, annoyed. Why did he care so much? Couldn’t he just mind his own business?
She turned again to see Seth, and a shock zinged through her. There he was, locked in a fervent embrace with her best friend. His lips were on hers and his arms were wrapped tightly around her. Brooklyn felt like she was going to throw up. She jumped up and a startled Lance asked, “What’s going on, Brook?”
Brook? That was what her family called her. Her family and Seth. Her nickname sounded foul on his mouth. She couldn’t take it any more. Brooklyn ran, full speed, to the bathroom. As soon as the door closed behind her, she let the tears fall out, the eyeliner smudge, and the mascara drip down, forming two long black lines from her eyes to her chin. Sobs echoed form her mouth. Alexia. Seth was kissing Alexia. Her best friend. Betrayal and anger coursed through her veins.
When the tears finally receded, she looked at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were big and puffy, her lipstick smudged, and her hair in messy disarray. She searched through the drawers in this bathroom, but there was no makeup.
Dammit. Her only option was to wash it all off and come out with no makeup. Brooklyn’s head was pounding and for some reason she didn’t care about looking bad anymore. Who was she dressing up for, if it wasn’t Seth?
She washed all the makeup from her face and opened the door and found herself face to face with Seth.
* * * * *
Seth entered the Ryder penthouse with his older brother, adrenaline rushing through his veins at the thought of seeing Brooklyn again. Her butler, Harold, opened the door and winked at Seth. He remembered how many times Harold had lied to Cecily to get him and Brooklyn out of trouble.
Alec stared at him. “You know her butler? Dude, you’re like practically married to this girl.”
Seth rolled his eyes, but he could feel the blood rushing to his cheeks. Alec knew that he and Brooklyn were just best friends, but he loved making Seth uncomfortable anyway.
“Shut up, Alec.”
“Ooh, someone’s touchy, isn’t he? Any reason why?” Alec asked, raising his eyebrow suggestively. Seth elbowed his brother and told him to shut up again, then blended into the crowd to evade an even more embarrassing conversation. There was something about Alec that made him feel so cautious. It wasn’t that he didn’t love him. Of course he did, but Alec had a habit of being very blunt—of saying exactly what the other person didn’t want said out loud.
He made his way to the room where his friends hung out at all of Cecily’s parties, and sure enough, they were all there. He could see Romeo, taking enthusiastically to Alexia, his hands gesturing wildly. Alexia looked unusually pretty today—maybe it was because her face wasn’t quite so painted? He wasn’t sure, but he couldn’t help following the curve of her legs up her dress. On the couch, Becca Jones and Riley Dawson were whispering in each other’s ears and staring at people, obviously gossiping. Next to them, Sarah Riesman was sitting on Ron Edward’s lap, her dark hair obscuring both of their faces. At the minibar, people were downing shots faster than any outsider would have thought possible. Seth wondered what Cecily would say if she knew how things went down at the minibar.
He scanned the room for Brooklyn, but she didn’t seem to be there. However, her cherry red Coach Clutch purse that sat at one of the tables was unmistakable. She was here somewhere.
Suddenly, Melissa Fey sidled up to him. “Oh, Seth!” she exclaimed in fake surprise. She shoved herself into the crook of his arm, making Seth uncomfortable. She was wearing too much perfume—the Chanel No. 5 was overwhelming. He loved how Brooklyn always smelled like lemons, never any fake scent. He’d always wondered if he’d be able to taste lemons on her mouth. Of course that theory had never been tested out.
“Where have you been? People are saying you’re transferring to boarding school,” she said. Seth smiled, laughing inwardly at the stupid rumors people made. As if he would leave anywhere without Brooklyn.
“No, I’m not. Have you seen Brooklyn?” he asked. It probably wasn’t the best move, talking to a girl about another one, but he was feeling a little desperate.
“No, but who cares?” Melissa said. Seth rolled his eyes and walked away from her. Alexia probably knew where Brooklyn was.
He strode up to her and tapped her on the arm, feeling awkward. He and Alexia were Brooklyn’s best friends, except they really didn’t know each other. He doubted he’d ever talked to her without Brooklyn being around.
She turned to him, cutting her conversation with Romeo, who was watching them. “Have you seen Brooklyn?” Seth asked them.
Alexia nodded her head. “Sort of. She’d been around, but flitting all over the place. Hovering around the door. Maybe she was waiting for you?”
But Romeo shook his head. “Naw, she was probably waiting for her new boyfriend.”
Seth stopped cold. Boyfriend? Since when did Brooklyn have a boyfriend? Suddenly, it felt like icy water was crashing down on him. Brooklyn had a boyfriend. His Brooklyn had a boyfriend. Nothing mattered anymore. And then his eye caught her, walking in with a
nother guy. It had always been his arm she’d walked into parties on. The other guy had a shock of white hair and a lean toned body under his cashmere sweater. Seth knew that this was what Brooklyn had always been looked her for. Her prince. Whenever she’d read her books and told him animatedly of the dashing prince, he’d always hoped, secretly, that her prince would be him. That she wished him to be her prince. And now, here she was, with this white haired boy, looking at him as if he was the knight in shining armor.
Romeo had turned to his friend, a guy with dark hair who looked very uncomfortable in his formal attire. Only Alexia was still looking at him concernedly. “Are you okay?” she asked, looking up at him through her wide green eyes. Suddenly, she looked so pretty. He never thought about anyone but Brooklyn like that, but what did it matter? She didn’t love him back.
Suddenly, so fast he didn’t realize he was doing it, his lips were on hers. At first she went rigid with surprise. Then her lips softened and she kissed him back. He hadn’t kissed anyone since eighth grade, when he dated Riley Dawson. His arms tightened around her and Alexia’s hands wrapped around his neck. His hands skated along the length of her skin tight dress. When they broke apart, he felt dazed. “That was amazing,” Alexia whispered to his neck. He smiled, kissing her forehead. He lurched then, as somebody shoved into him.
It was Ryan Keynes, drunk as usual. Seth’s right sleeve was soaked in whatever Ryan had been drinking. He cursed under his breath and shoved Ryan away. “Sorry, give me a minute,” he said to Alexia. He made his way to the bathroom just in time for it to spring open by a slightly tear stained and oddly makeup free Brooklyn.
The sight of her made his kiss with Alexia instantly feel wrong. “Brook?” he asked. She didn’t look okay. In fact, she looked shaken. He put his hand on her arm, but she pulled it away.
“Leave me alone,” she said, narrowing her eyes angrily at him.
“What?” he asked, as if she had slapped him. Never had Brooklyn ever told him to leave her alone, no matter what.