“Wait, sweetie,” Portia said. “I want to hear all the dirty details about Tyler.”
“Another time,” Alexa replied. “Ciao.”
She shut her phone and flung it onto her desk. She was definitely pissed at Portia, but Alexa had more pressing matters on her mind right now.
On a mission, Alexa logged onto her IM account, then scrolled down her buddy list, wondering who—if anyone—hadn’t yet made plans at this late date. She knew Tabitha and Tracey had flown to London last night, having secured special permission from their teachers to bust out early. J.D. and Gavin were friends of Tyler’s—contacting them now would be way weird. That left the second-tier crowd. And how pathetic would that be? Alexa imagined asking Delphine’s cronies to include her in their Cancun plans. Not a chance, she thought.
Numb, Alexa logged out of IM. The cold reality was sinking in: She was going to be stranded in Oakridge for a week, while her best friends and Delphine were hooking up with hot college boys on the beach.
Alexa shook her head, banishing her self-pity. She knew exactly what she needed right now: a hot, bubbly bath and a glass of Merlot. Soaking in the tub always cleared Alexa’s head; if she relaxed and focused, she’d come up with a fabulous alternate plan.
Slowly, Alexa took off her watch and her oversize gold hoops, eager to slip out of her clothes and into some scalding, foamy water. She unclasped her featherlight gold chain, opened her desk drawer, and took out her wooden jewelry box. She was about to drop the necklace in when a piece of jewelry caught her eye. A flash of hot pink amid all the glossy silver and gold. Alexa smiled to herself. God. Her “Best Friends Forever” bracelet. That tacky thing had been a gift from her old friend Holly Jacobson, back in the sixth grade. Alexa hadn’t worn it in at least four years. She dug the bracelet out and slid it onto her slim wrist, studying the words on its side.
Best Friends Forever. That was how she and Holly would always sign their notes to each other. That’s what we were, Alexa reflected. Ages ago.
When Alexa had arrived from Paris in the second grade, Holly had been the only kid in Oakridge Elementary who’d welcomed her warmly. Holly had offered Alexa a pumpkin brownie at lunchtime—Mrs. Jacobson always packed extra food—and their friendship was sealed. With her wide, sparkling gray-green eyes, sprinkling of freckles on her nose and cheeks, and straight, honey-brown hair, Holly was as innocent as she looked. Though timid and soft-spoken, Holly was also warm, genuine, and, once she opened up, a lot of fun.
Soon, Holly and Alexa were spending their weekends and afternoons together—making s’mores, painting each other’s toenails, and trading secrets. In the fourth grade, on a pebbly path in the park, Holly patiently taught Alexa how to ride a bike. And, in the fifth grade, after Alexa had gone on a sort-of-date with David Metcalfe, she told Holly what it felt like to kiss a boy. At the time, Holly hadn’t known anything about kissing. Now, as Alexa sat in her bedroom, she wondered if her old friend had ever been kissed.
Holly had always been a late bloomer, Alexa remembered as she spun the bracelet on her wrist. That was the main reason they’d grown apart. At the end of seventh grade, Alexa got her first real boyfriend, and suddenly, reading Betty and Veronica comics with Holly seemed kind of lame compared to French-kissing Eliot Johnson. By high school, Alexa had dumped Eliot, moved on to new conquests, and befriended Portia, while Holly started spending more time with her friends from the girls’ track team. There had never been an official split—no screaming matches, no proclamations of a destroyed friendship. Their phone calls and e-mails simply got fewer and farther between, and soon Holly was just a face Alexa passed in the Oakridge High hallways.
Alexa thought back to the last time she’d seen Holly, at Monday’s junior class assembly. Holly, wearing Puma racing pants, her hair in a ponytail, had shyly waved to Alexa from across the aisle and Alexa had nodded in return. It was weird how close the two of them had once been. Alexa remembered even going on a couple of weekend trips with Holly and her family in the summers—driving to a cabin the Jacobsons rented in upstate New York. Alexa and Holly would be squished in the backseat along with Holly’s little brother, Josh, and her hyperactive puppy, Mia. Holly’s parents would nag the kids about tightening their seat belts and the puppy would dig its claws into Alexa’s knees. But she and Holly would laugh and gossip the whole ride away. They made good travel buddies.
Alexa sprung to her feet, flushed by a sudden inspiration. Travel buddies. Of course! Holly was the answer. She was far enough outside Alexa’s social realm to be completely removed from the whole Delphine drama: Holly certainly wouldn’t be smug about Alexa not having proper spring break plans. And if Portia, Maeve, or Sabina cocked an eyebrow at Alexa’s traveling with Holly, Alexa could always write it off as a random flash of nostalgia.
Maybe it was the breakup with Tyler, or the sight of the bracelet on her wrist, but Alexa was feeling a little nostalgic. She remembered how affectionate Holly had always been, at least compared to cool-as-ice Portia. Alexa wondered what it would be like to take off on an impromptu trip with her old friend, for old times’ sake. Impulsively, she grabbed the cell phone off her desk and scrolled down the names in her phone book. She was sure Holly was still in there, somewhere. Even though Alexa bought a new cell almost every year, she always transferred her old phone book over, not bothering to delete any names—except for ex-boyfriends, of course.
Alexa paused when she reached Holly’s name. Holly might already have spring break plans…but most likely not. Alexa remembered how overprotective Holly’s parents had been when it came to Holly doing anything even remotely adventurous. Chances were she was trapped in Oakridge, too. Maybe we could help each other out, Alexa thought. A small thrill shot through her. Why not call? she reasoned, clicking on Holly’s name and pressing TALK. There was no harm in taking a chance.
CHAPTER TWO
Escape Plan
Holly Jacobson sprinted down the stairs two at a time and nearly collided with her twelve-year-old brother, Josh, who was deep into his Game Boy Advance.
“Hey, watch it, Nintendo-head,” Holly teased, skirting around him.
Josh looked up from the game and stuck his tongue out at Holly. Then he pointed to the small square of shiny turquoise material that was tucked under her arm, and his green eyes widened.
“Is that a bra?” Josh asked, curiosity and disgust mingling in his voice.
Holly rolled her eyes. “No, you dweeb. It’s a tankini.” Could her brother get any grosser?
“Whatev,” Josh replied, tromping up the stairs.
Growing up, Holly and Josh had been pretty tight—they could spend hours griping about how annoying their parents were—but ever since her brother hit puberty, Holly had felt totally distanced from him. Holly didn’t have many good guy friends, and sometimes she worried that maybe she just didn’t get boys. They all seemed to speak a different language from her. Which probably explained why her experience with boys was so utterly lacking.
Except for that one incredible summer, three years ago.
Holly headed down the hall into the kitchen. Her best friend, Meghan, sat at the table, munching on apple slices and idly flipping through her math textbook. Holly’s open binder and textbook were on the table, as well; the two girls were supposed to be doing their precalculus assignment together that afternoon. But all they’d done so far, much to Holly’s chagrin, was talk about Meghan’s spring break plans.
“Here you go, Meggie,” Holly said, tossing her friend the blue J. Crew two-piece. “It’s all yours.” She plunked down in the chair across from Meghan. “Well, for next week, anyway,” she added with a grin, helping herself to an apple slice from the plate in the center of the table.
“Thanks for bringing this down,” Meghan said, holding up the tank and matching boy shorts. “It’s so much more…Cali than my old black bathing suit.” She shot a grateful smile at Holly. “You’re the best.”
Holly blew up her bangs. “It’s not like I’ll be needing
any swimwear next week,” she pointed out. She couldn’t help the note of bitterness that had crept into her voice. She crunched hard into a shiny green crescent of apple.
On Saturday morning, Meghan, along with their other close friend, Jess, was leaving for Disneyland. Meghan and Jess had planned the trip back in February and assumed Holly would come, too. But when a hopeful Holly had broached the topic with her parents, they’d freaked at the mere suggestion. Three girls, traveling all the way to California? And spending a week alone, with no adults around? The idea!
So Holly wouldn’t be joining them. Meghan and Jess had been upset, but not surprised. The same thing happened at the end of last summer, when Jess had invited the entire girls’ track team to her beach house on the Jersey shore for a no-parents weekend. Holly had wound up stuck at home, helping her mom weed the garden while her friends went skinnydipping and stayed up all night to watch the sunrise. Holly sighed at the memory. She was forever getting left behind.
Meghan frowned sympathetically, resting her elbows on her textbook and blinking her brown eyes at Holly. “Come on, H. Just ask them one more time. I bet they’d give in eventually, and you could still find last-minute tickets—”
Holly shook her head, her short ponytail snapping from side to side. “You know my parents never budge, Meggie.”
It was true; Holly had long since learned to give up once her parents said no. But also, Holly realized with the slightest twinge of guilt, she wasn’t sure if this particular trip was worth the fight. Holly fiddled with her chunky silver ring. She’d never admit it to Meghan or Jess, but going to Disneyland seemed sort of babyish to her. Disneyland was someplace you went with your parents when you were eight—not where you were supposed to go for junior year spring break. Holly would have loved to travel with her friends—and anyplace beat Oakridge—but did she want to incur the wrath of her mother just so she could go whirl around in a giant teacup?
Not really.
“It won’t be the same without you,” Meghan said. “You’d better call us every day.”
“Believe me, I will,” Holly groaned. “I’ll need to vent to someone about Josh and the ’rents.” Holly’s mom was the assistant principal at Oakridge High, and her dad taught biology at the middle school, so they’d be on spring break, too. They always used their time off to catch up on errands around the house. And Josh would be busy prepping for his bar mitzvah next month. The whole Jacobson family, homebound together, for an endless week.
Holly glanced forlornly out the window at her slushy driveway. She wished she could be outside running, even in the snow. Her sneakers pounding the pavement, her breath coming in fast, smoky puffs. Holly loved the clarity and liberty running afforded her; she felt so free when she was in motion.
The sharp barks of her yellow Lab, Mia, punctured Holly’s thoughts and she turned in her chair to see Mia bound into the kitchen. The dog had as much energy as her namesake, soccer star Mia Hamm—one of Holly’s idols. Holly’s mother was on Mia’s trail. “She’s giving me a migraine,” Holly’s mom said crisply as Mia dove under the table and nipped at Holly’s feet. Holly bent and scratched Mia behind the ears.
“She probably wants to go out,” Holly said. “Can I take her?” she added hopefully, eager for a chance to break out for a little while.
Holly’s mom peered worriedly out the window at the gathering gloom. “Your father will take her. It’s getting dark.” Then she glanced at Meghan. “You should be heading home, Meghan. I’m sure your parents won’t want you walking alone in the pitchblack. Or Mr. Jacobson and I can give you a ride—”
“Oh, that’s okay, Mrs. Jacobson,” Meghan said quickly, standing and pulling her fleece off the back of her chair. Holly watched thoughtfully as Meghan jammed her math books into her knapsack. Holly’s friends always got flustered and über-polite around her mom—to them she was Mrs. Jacobson, big bad Assistant Principal. Both Holly’s parents gave off that intense teacher vibe. Regardless of whether they were wearing pajamas or raking the leaves, they still behaved as if they were standing in front of a blackboard, about to scold someone.
Meghan hugged Holly good-bye, thanked her again for the tankini, and dashed off. After Holly’s mom returned to the den to watch the news, and Holly’s dad shepherded Mia outside, Holly turned her attention to her math homework. But she couldn’t concentrate. The house was warm and stuffy, and Holly peeled off her gray wool sweater, leaving only her ribbed Adidas tank over her flared cords. She undid her ponytail and ran her fingers through her straight, light-brown hair, which fell to just below her chin. Tossing down her pencil, Holly reached into her bookbag and pulled out her iPod. Holly was an eighties-music junkie; as she clicked over to the old Go-Gos song, “Vacation,” she smiled wryly.
Vacation, all I ever wanted. Vacation, had to get away…
With the music blaring in her ears, Holly doodled a beach umbrella in the margin of her notebook, and then closed her eyes. She imagined herself someplace else—not Oakridge, not Disneyland. She was playing volleyball on a beach, the ocean breeze on her back, and her bare feet in the sand…
There was a tap on her shoulder. Holly turned, and felt a knot of irritation rise up in her belly when she saw her mom standing there, holding Holly’s red T-Mobile. What now? Holly wondered. Were they supposed to start dinner already? When Holly removed the tiny white earphones from her ears, she heard her phone ringing shrilly.
“You left it in the den,” her mother said in an accusatory tone, handing Holly the cell.
As her mom walked out of the kitchen, Holly glanced down at the unknown number flashing on the screen. Bizarre. Usually, she only received calls from the people programmed into her cell. This number did seem vaguely familiar, but Holly couldn’t place it. She bit her lip, a little nervous, then flipped open the phone.
“Hello?” she asked cautiously.
“Holly!” A girl’s voice bubbled over the line, warm and fizzy. “It’s me. Alexa!”
Holly’s stomach tightened. Alexa St. Laurent? How random was that? She and Alexa hadn’t spoken in years. Holly had deleted Alexa’s number from her phone in the ninth grade, marking the final break from her former best friend.
“Holly? Are you there?” Alexa asked, after Holly had been silent for several long seconds.
Holly chewed on a thumbnail, now officially nervous. “Yeah. I’m here. Hi.” What could she say? Why was Alexa even calling her?
“It’s kind of weird to hear your voice.” Alexa paused. “It’s been forever, huh?”
“Tell me about it,” Holly managed. Her tongue felt clumsy in her mouth. Was Alexa delusional or something? Did she think they were still friends?
“What have you been up to?” Alexa went on. “Still running track?”
“Yup.” Holly thought about telling Alexa that she’d just been named co-captain, but she resisted. Would Alexa even care about something that didn’t involve male models or designer labels?
“I always admired that about you,” Alexa said. “I’m so lazy. Trying on Mavi jeans is my only form of aerobic workout.”
Holly gave a hesitant chuckle. She was thrown by Alexa’s sudden friendliness, but she also couldn’t help feeling flattered by her words. Alexa had always been disarmingly charming.
“Well, you don’t need to worry,” Holly replied bashfully. “You’re skinny, anyway.”
Whenever Holly thought of Alexa, she first pictured the Alexa she’d known best—the short, slender, flaxen-haired girl in plaid skirts and knee socks, who spoke with a hint of a French accent and could make Holly burst into hysterical laughter just by crossing her enormous blue eyes. Then, Holly had to remind herself to replace the picture with the way Alexa looked now—tall and gorgeous, decked out in fur-trimmed tweed blazers and spike-heeled Jimmy Choos, striding through the Oakridge halls with her ever-present Starbucks latte and a boy at her side. Holly couldn’t imagine the present-day Alexa ever crossing her eyes. Or trying to make Holly laugh at all.
“Thanks,”
Alexa said. “But lying around the house and stuffing my face with chips every day next week isn’t going to help much.”
Next week? Holly thought, confused. “Don’t you have plans for spring break?” she blurted, regretting her words an instant later. Of course Alexa had plans for spring break. She was probably flying to Aruba or something. What a dumb thing to even ask.
“I did, but they fell through,” Alexa replied with a sigh. “What about you?” she volleyed back casually.
“Um, not really,” Holly said. A deep blush warmed her cheeks. Couldn’t she have lied or something? Leave it to Alexa to make her feel like the biggest dork alive.
“I wasn’t sure if you’d be busy or not,” Alexa said. “But I had the craziest idea…”
Wait a minute, Holly thought, suddenly wary. Where was Alexa steering their little chat?
“I was sitting in my room, thinking about how I used to go to the Catskills with you and your family. Those long car rides…” There was a note of wistfulness to Alexa’s voice that Holly hardly recognized.
“I remember,” Holly replied. She thought back to sharing a bunk bed with Alexa in the cabin upstate—trading ghost stories while the tree branches tapped against their window, frightening them in a delicious way. Back then, Alexa had practically been like Holly’s sister. “That was a long time ago,” Holly added quietly. She wasn’t sure what purpose this trip down memory lane was serving.
“I know,” Alexa said. “That’s why I was wondering…wouldn’t it be cool to go somewhere together this year? You and me. Like old times. But without parents, of course. Just this total whirlwind getaway.” Alexa paused. “What do you think?”
Holly was speechless, but her mind was racing. So I’m your sloppy seconds, she longed to retort. Do I seem like that much of a sucker? Holly twisted the ring around her middle finger, silently stewing. It was so obvious. Alexa had called Holly, dripping kindness, only because all her other plans hadn’t worked out. Did Alexa honestly think that after what had happened between them—and all their years of not being friends—Holly was going to get all giddy at the thought of their spending spring break together? Holly took a deep breath, searching for a way to articulate her bubbling emotions. She’d never been very good at confrontations.