Ariana smiled. She had thrown him off for a moment. Mr. Composed was not impenetrable. Too bad it had been because he was trying not to laugh at her.
"First will be the debate. I've put APH's resident debate king, Sumit Medha, in charge of that. Sumit, please stand and wave," Palmer said, gesturing toward the right side of the bleachers. A scrawny South Asian guy with short black hair stood up and raised his hand, earning some applause from the crowd. "If you're interested in participating in debate, please see Sumit after the meeting. That includes anyone who wants to do research, run for coffee, make support signs, and all that."
"I'm on research if any of you want to join," Soomie whispered.
"Please," Maria scoffed, sipping her coffee. "I'd rather do the coffee runs, thanks."
"I'm totally in," Brigit replied. "It's not like I'm going to be helping her."
Ariana kept her mouth shut. She could guess whom Brigit was referring to, but she had to hear all the options first.
"Our resident heiress, Tahira Al Mahmood, has generously offered to take the helm for the fund-raising event," Palmer continued.
Brigit sank lower in her seat as Tahira stood up and waved like a beauty pageant contestant.
"So please see Tahira for the details on that. And I will be captaining the crew team," Palmer said, tugging at the front of his T-shirt as
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though at jacket lapels. The guys in the crowd whooped while the girls shrilly cheered. Ariana raised an eyebrow. Palmer certainly was a rock star around here.
"We need a girl to act as coxswain for the boat, so anyone interested, please see me," Palmer said. "Practice starts Tuesday morning at the boathouse at five a.m. sharp."
"Yeah. So not happening," Maria said. "Coffee runs it is."
"All right. That takes care of the events," Palmer said, glancing to his left. "Ladies, if you please?"
He took a step back and four girls--sophomores or freshmen, Ariana guessed--jumped up from the bottom row, each wearing a gold armband around her bicep. They started to make their way up the bleachers, distributing armbands to the group.
"From this moment on, you will wear these bands wherever you go," Palmer instructed, pacing in front of the bleachers. "To meetings, to bed, to the bathroom, to the welcome dinner tonight--especially to the welcome dinner tonight. We want the alumni to know who's representing gold. Team pride, people. It's more important than fashion."
Here he glanced at Ariana again and smirked. Ariana felt the color rising in her cheeks.
"Okay, once you have your armband, you can go. But if you're in for debate, stay back and see Sumit!"
Palmer slapped Sumit on the back as he strode from the room, tossing his ball up and down as he went, as if perfectly confident that he was leaving everything in good hands.
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"So, you staying?" Soomie asked Ariana as the room filled with chatter and everyone rose from their seats. "You seem like a research person."
"Actually, I just want to get back and change," Ariana said as she cinched her armband around her bicep.
"You're required to participate in the competition in some way," Maria told her. "As a transfer you should really be aware of that. People pay attention to this."
Ariana glanced at Maria. Why did she seem hostile all of a sudden? And who, exactly, would be paying attention to her level of involvement?
"I'll be involved. Don't worry," Ariana said. "I'll see you all later."
As she strode from the room, trying to ignore the torturous scratching of her skirt and shirt, Ariana had the awful feeling she'd just made some kind of social faux pas, only she had no idea what it was. But being seen for another five minutes dressed like this had to be worse than whatever infraction she'd committed.
Tomorrow she would get involved somehow. After she aced her history exam. She heaved a sigh and shoved her way through the gym doors. Turned out that creating a new life from scratch was a lot of work.
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SNAGGING THE BOY
"This room is stunning," Ariana said, gazing up at the domed ceiling looming over the gilded Atherton-Pryce Hall ballroom. The vast chamber was at the center of the Pryce Building, which was a huge, colonial-style structure situated on a crest overlooking the Potomac. The building housed several art collections, an exclusive library, a catering kitchen, and several smaller gathering rooms. Ariana had seen photos of this room in the school's glossy catalog, but not one had done it justice."That's why it's booked five years in advance for weddings during the high seasons," Maria informed her, hugging her slim arms as she looked around. "Only alumni can get married on campus and have their receptions here." She fixed her eyes on Ariana. "And only important alumni, at that," she added, as if giving Ariana one of many reasons to become important.
"Duly noted," Ariana replied.
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"There are currently six APH alumni in the Senate and twenty-three in the House of Representatives," Maria said, looking around the room. "Not to mention White House staffers and Wall Street millionaires and international business gurus. There are more power players circulating in this room than there are at most state dinners."
"I had no idea," Ariana lied. She had, of course, seen the numbers in the APH brochure, but she was starting to get the feeling that Maria was the type of person who enjoyed knowing more than the people around her. She could let her feel that way, for now.
"You should mingle. Meet as many of them as you can," Maria instructed, fiddling with the cowl neck of her sleeveless black dress. Her face was practically makeup free, and her hair tumbled in natural waves down her back. She was one of those rare, lucky girls who could get away with such simplicity at a formal event. Just standing next to her, Ariana felt envious. Many people had called her beautiful, but that was before. Back when she had blond hair and an ivory complexion and was comfortable in her own skin. Tonight she had taken almost an hour to get ready, trying out different makeup schemes and shedding dress after dress before finally settling on the short-sleeved, belted, blue Donna Karan because it didn't clash with her gold armband. She was still learning to be a tan, auburn-haired girl from Texas. Still finding her way as Briana Leigh Covington.
"I will," Ariana told her.
A petite girl with cocoa skin and curly black hair appeared at Maria's elbow and handed over a light blue pashmina. "I couldn't find the black, but I thought this would go well with your dress," she said.
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Maria sniffed. "Fine. Thank you, Jessica."
"Anytime." Jessica quickly disappeared into the crowd.
"See? Clothing duty," Maria said to Ariana as shrugged her arms into the sleeves.
Ariana smiled. She really was going to have to find a way to put these ladies-in-waiting to use.
"Maria! Landon's parents are here," Soomie announced breathlessly, lifting herself onto her toes as she joined them. "You must introduce me."
Maria blushed and sipped her water. "I doubt they'd even remember me. We've only met once."
"Like anyone could forget you," Soomie said, rolling her eyes. "Please? You know impressing the parents is one of the five keys to snagging the boy," she begged. "Even if the boy thinks he hates his parents. Which Landon does not," she added as an aside to Ariana. "He totally loves them, which just makes him all the more perfect, don't you think?"
"Definitely," Ariana acknowledged. "What are the other four keys?'
"One, be in his space, but not in his face--"
"Which you are utterly failing at," Maria pointed out.
Soomie hesitated, but chose to ignore this comment. "Two, have your own life and interests. Three, never leave the house without mascara. Four, flirt with other boys, and five . . . make sure his friends and family love you," she finished, looking pointedly at Maria.
Ariana laughed. "That's some list."
"It better be, after two years of interviewing and cataloging the
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responses of girls aged thirteen to twenty-one who were in
successful relationships of more than six months."
"Wow."
"Yeah. She can be a little scary." Maria let out an impatient sigh and Ariana shot her a knowing look. She understood why Maria didn't want Soomie to meet Landon's parents. Right now she had a leg up, knowing the family. She was slightly more important in Landon's life than Soomie was. An introduction would make them equal. Why had Maria never told Soomie about her feelings for Landon? They were supposed to be best friends. Best friends told each other everything.
Except, of course, when the boy in question was supposedly unworthy. Which was why, years ago, Ariana had kept her relationship with Thomas Pearson a secret from Noelle, as much as it was possible to keep a secret from Noelle. But Landon, obviously, was not unworthy.
"Fine," Maria said, rolling her eyes and placing her glass on the tray of a passing waiter. "We'll be back," she said to Ariana. "Mingle," she added again over her shoulder. "Don't forget, this is a big event."
"I've got it," Ariana told her. This was the third time that day she felt directed by Maria. She wasn't sure whether to feel grateful because the girl was looking out for her, or offended because Maria obviously thought she couldn't fend for herself.
Soomie paused before scurrying off, glancing at Ariana as if she'd just realized she was standing there. "You look amazing, by the way," she said matter-of-factly. "Very
event-appropriate. That won't go unnoticed."
"Thanks," Ariana said, looking down at her dress and touching her pearl necklace with her fingertips. The two girls hurried off and
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Ariana watched them go, her brow furrowed. Again, she felt as if she was missing something.
With a confused sigh, Ariana looked around the room at all the well-dressed smiling people chatting and downing drinks all around her. Suddenly she realized that this was the first cocktail party she had attended in ages, and she decided to forget about Maria and Soomie and their odd behavior and just let herself sink into the light and airy atmosphere. Nothing much had changed about these events during her two years in prison. There were still trays of hors d'oeuvres and flutes of champagne, overdressed women eyeing one another's choice of frock, and underdressed men checking their watches. And as always, the vibe was festive. Bubbly. Full of froth. Not a care in the room. Which suited Ariana just fine. She was due for a carefree evening.
A familiar laugh caught her ear and she turned. Palmer stood in the center of the ballroom's marble dance floor, wearing a perfectly cut suit, an APH tie, and an American flag lapel pin, chatting with a couple who could only be his parents. He was the spitting image of his father, who had a few wrinkles around the eyes, but not many other signs of age. His mother had light brown hair, blue eyes, and the straightest posture in the room, but Ariana could tell by her broad gestures and unabashed laughter that she wasn't the least bit uptight.
Impressing the parents is key to snagging the boy, Ariana thought.She smiled, matched her posture to Mrs. Liriano's, and, feeling confident in her event-appropriate choice of dress, strode over to join Palmer and his family. Palmer did a double take as she approached, and his smile widened.
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"Good evening," Ariana said, completing the circle by standing across from Palmer.
"Hello," Mrs. Liriano said.
"Mother, Father, meet Ana Covington," Palmer said in his low, sexy voice. "She just transferred to APH."
"Very nice to meet you, Ana." Palmers mother offered her hand.
"Likewise," Ariana said, making sure her Texan accent was intact.
"You made a wise choice, transferring here," his father added. "Mrs. Liriano has nothing but fond memories."
"You graduated APH?" Ariana asked Mrs. Liriano.
"Ages ago," she replied, taking a sip of her champagne.
"Not that long ago, Mother," Palmer said, causing his mother to laugh. He looked at Ariana and leaned in, lowering his voice. "The congresswoman likes to pretend she's older than she is. She thinks it will help her gain more respect on the Hill."
"Not that she needs any help in that arena," Mr. Liriano added.
"I've trained my men well, as you can see," Palmer's mother said to Ariana in a conspiratorial tone. "Nothing but compliment after compliment."
"Believe me, I'm taking mental notes," Ariana replied with a laugh. "You're a congresswoman?"
"Fifth district, Arizona," she replied with a nod.
"That's incredible," Ariana said. "I don't believe I've ever met a congresswoman before," she lied. Her father had been fast friends with many a politician in Georgia. They used to gather out on the porch on warm summer evenings, smoke cigars, and talk about how
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to improve the state. Ariana used to love to listen to their throaty laughter and rumbling voices from the settee inside the parlor, letting the sounds of the creaking rocking chairs lull her off to sleep.
She found her throat welling at the memory but swallowed it down. She was Briana Leigh Covington now. Briana Leigh had no such fond memories.
"Well, I'm happy to be the first," Mrs. Liriano said.
"And what do you do, Mr. Liriano?" Ariana asked, glancing at Palmer from the corner of her eye. She could tell he was watching her closely, and that he appreciated her good manners and her ability to chat with the adults. Points were definitely being scored.
"Nothing much, I'm afraid. Retired ballplayer. All I do these days is sign baseballs, make appearances, and head up my charitable foundation," he said.
"Really? I'd love to hear about the foundation," Ariana told him.
"No, you wouldn't," Palmer joked.
They all laughed.
"Dad was also instrumental in shaping the anti-performance-enhancing-drug bill that was signed into law last year," Palmer said, clearly proud of both parents. "He's the one who taught me everything I know about sportsmanship and fairness."
Ariana smiled. So sportsmanship and fairness were important to Palmer as well. She was glad she'd come over to chat with his family. Already she was learning more about him. Ariana was just about to ask a follow-up question when a photographer stepped up and touched Mr. Liriano's shoulder.76
"Mr. Liriano, Congresswoman . . . would you and your son mind posing for a few photos for the alumni magazine?" he asked.
"Of course not," Mrs. Liriano said.
Ariana's heart skipped a beat and she slunk back a few steps. The last thing she wanted was her photo appearing in a magazine. Even in her disguise, someone out there might recognize her.
"No, Ana, stay," Mrs. Liriano said, touching her arm. "The magazine loves to get as many students and alums in each photo as they can."
Ariana's pulse raced as the Lirianos all looked at her expectantly and the photographer looked on. She didn't want to be rude, but she could not have her photo published. Her life might depend on it.
"It's okay. Actually, I'm not very photogenic," Ariana said, still backing away.
"I find that hard to believe," Mr. Liriano said matter-of-factly.
"Thanks, but... you should just make it a family picture," Ariana said. She glanced around and spotted Tahira out of the corner of her eye, wearing a bright green dress that couldn't be missed. "Besides, I promised Tahira I would meet some of her friends and she's waiting for me, so ... it was nice to meet you both!"
Then, not wanting to look at their baffled faces any longer, Ariana turned and strode toward Tahira, who was talking to a group of elderly alumni. Not because she in any way wanted to, but because she had to in case the Lirianos were watching.
As she marched toward what was sure to be a lethally boring conversation, she wondered what the five keys were for keeping her new identity safe.
77
LEXA GREENE
Ariana decided to take the long, scenic route back to her dorm after the alumni welcome party. It was a clear, balmy, late-summer night, and the Atherton-Pryce Hall campus glowed in the light emanating from dozens of old-fashioned iron lampposts set along the walkways. Alcove la
mps at the entrances to the class buildings and dorms illuminated the APH crest, which was etched above each door, along with each building's date of construction. Ariana could hear the Potomac River burbling along as she strolled the outer paths of the school, and she sighed contentedly. Even though Atherton-Pryce had fewer students than Easton Academy, the campus was twice the size. The facilities were state-of-the-art, the setting gorgeous and bucolic and serene. She looked up at the dual towers of Privilege House and imagined herself gazing out one of the huge plate glass windows, watching the sun rise over the river. Imagined how perfectly happy she would be there. Then she thought of her former78
friends, who had long since finished their days at Easton, and felt a sense of satisfaction.
This place was a vast improvement over Easton Academy. Who cared if she was a few years behind where she should have been? Her experiences here were going to be unparalleled. She could feel it. Easton Academy and everyone associated with it could kiss her ass.
With a private grin at her crassness, Ariana walked back toward the center of campus. She heard laughter and conversation coming from the direction of the boys' dorms--guys saying their good-byes to their parents, seeing them to their cars--and turned her steps in that direction. Hanging back near the corner of one of the brick buildings, she watched as Adam shook hands with his father and hugged his mother before the woefully underdressed couple walked over to their blue Ford Taurus. Surrounded by the other families in their expensive suits and dresses, loitering around their Mercedes and Audis and Cadillacs, Adam's family looked completely out of place. Ariana could only imagine that they were relieved to be going. Relieved at the thought of returning to their own world.
Ariana scanned the area for Palmer, and saw him lifting a hand in a wave as his parents pulled away in their black Lexus. Her heart skipped a beat in anticipation. He hadn't seen her yet, but he was about to turn to head back to the dorm. Any second now, he would spy her standing there. Watching. What would his reaction be?
He turned. Saw her. Smiled.
Pure elation.