“What are you wearing?” I asked, reaching for the towel and wrapping it around me.
“The Fendi,” she said, as though I could identify parts of her wardrobe by designer.
“Oh, God, that was pretentious,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m sorry. The black dress. The one with the lace on top.”
“Hello?” Chelly called out from the door.
“We’re in here,” Emmie called back.
Chelly materialized in the bathroom doorway wearing a tight and curvy dress in fire-engine red, which should have looked gaudy with her red hair, but didn’t. She looked like a bombshell.
“Wow,” I said, giving her the once over.
“Right?” she said, her wide smile confident. I wished I had a quarter of her self-assurance. Hell, I bet any girl did—if you could bottle that stuff and sell it, you’d be an instant millionaire.
Emmie turned away from the mirror and took in Chelly. “You look Ah-ma-zing!”
“Thanks, girls. Brooklyn! You’re in a towel! Are you going to be ready in time?”
“Yeah, sure,” I said. “As soon as I figure out what I’m going to wear.” It was a joke, since I had such a narrow choice.
Emmie and Chelly exchanged a shocked look. “You don’t know what you’re wearing yet?” Chelly asked, scandalized. I suppose if I hadn’t been slaving in the laundry and working my ass off in the equestrian arena, maybe I would have put some more thought or care into tonight, but as it was, I was barely awake.
“You should borrow my Stella McCartney,” Emmie announced. “You’ve got the body for it.”
“No, it’s okay. I don’t need to borrow your clothes,” I was starting to feel anxious as it was; I didn’t need to worry about her très expensive wardrobe, too.
Chelly disappeared and returned holding up a black dress with a black and white heart print on top. “This one?”
Emmie nodded. “Yeah, it will look amazing on you, Brooklyn. Just try it on. But hurry up, we have eighteen minutes!”
On the Way to the Dance
The bus ride to Westwood was surreal. After two weeks of stewing in estrogen, save a few male teachers, the Rosewood girls were crazy excited to be going to the dance where they would experience, as Chelly put it, the Westwood Buffet. The buzz on the bus was palpable and I could only describe it as something like a shark feeding frenzy, where the sharks wore designer dresses and a lot of makeup and were very, very hungry.
I’d only met a few of the guys: Will, Evan and I guess Brady counted, too, since he was a student, along with Dave, who I hadn’t yet met, but had heard enough about to know was pretty much perfection on a stick, but to hear the girls talk, all Westwood boys were great catches.
Money, looks, smarts—just like Rosewood girls had it all, Westwood boys did, too. Plus testosterone and muscles—Westwood prided itself on having an excellent athletics program and boasted the highest number of Olympic podium finishes per capita of any school in the U.S.
“Why so quiet?” Chelly asked from the seat in front of me. She was sitting sideways so she could talk to all of us as we sat together on the short ride to the Westwood campus.
I shrugged, “Tired I guess.” And I was, but that wasn’t why I was quiet. I was terrified.
Sure, I had been to dances before and even some big non-school ones back in London. I had some okay moves on the floor, but that’s not what I was worried about: this was different. This was my first dance as the new and improved Brooklyn, who was going to try to embrace the fact that she was the new girl and get herself noticed.
I had to admit, if ever I was prepped to be noticed, this was it. The designer dress, which Emmie had practically forced onto my body, did look exceptional on me. And my makeup somehow came together with only one rushed mascara wand to the eyeball. My strappy pumps, though being higher than what I was used to, completed the outfit and made my legs look great, despite them causing new discomfort in my already aching calves. But I’d power through. This was the dance, the one that was going to set the tone for the entire year.
“I can’t wait to see Dave,” Emmie said, bouncing in her seat a little beside Chelly, making her move up and down, too.
“You just saw him last night when you set up the gym for the dance,” I said, remembering how she’d returned the night before with googly eyes and plumped lips that I knew were from making out and not some cosmetic lip enhancer.
She gave me a sheepish look, as though she was remembering, too. “Well yeah, but they’ll be wearing jackets and ties tonight. They all look so sexy when they’re dressed up.”
“Bring it!” Chelly said. “I can’t wait.”
We all laughed, which eased my nerves a bit. Though I realized I wasn’t the only quiet one. “So, is there anyone you have your eye on?” I asked Kaylee. She was sitting beside me in a subdued, but very pretty navy dress accented by a small diamond pendant. Although I didn’t know many of the boys, she’d had two years to get to know them and single out at least one.
She shook her head and opened her mouth to say something, but Celia interrupted before she got the chance.
“She had a thing for Phillip Carson last year, but then he started dating Harmony Wilson. They’re both seniors this year.”
“They’re not still together,” Chelly broke in. “They broke up during the summer.”
Kaylee’s eyes lit up as she looked at Chelly. “Really?”
Chelly nodded. “Yep. Harmony hooked up with a guy back home. She’s doing the long distance thing—I heard her talking about it in Algebra.”
“Will you dance with him?” I asked.
Kaylee shrugged. “I don’t think so.”
“Yes she will,” Celia said. “We’ll make it happen. Kaylee, don’t think about…”
Kaylee cut her off with a look. I wondered what that was about, but Celia shook her head when I looked at her.
“He’s friends with Dave,” Emmie said. “I’ll talk to him.”
“How are you going to talk and make out at the same time?” Chelly asked, her face deadpan.
Emmie playfully smacked her, but didn’t bother answering, turning to me. “I can’t wait for you to meet Dave,” she said. “You’re going to love him. Well, not love him, love him, but you’ll get along great when you do the liaison thing together.”
I’d forgotten that when Emmie traded Community Service Assignments with me that it meant I would get to work with her boyfriend.
“Brooklyn’s met Dave,” Chelly said, looking from Emmie to me.
“Not yet,” I said.
Chelly frowned and looked at Celia. “I’m sure he was who helped you move your trunk upstairs when they screwed up your room. Him and Jenks. Right, Celia?”
Celia nodded and looked at me. “Yeah, when they brought your trunk to my room.”
I glanced at Emmie. “No,” I said, starting to panic. “He said his name was Will.”
“Willmont Davidson,” Emmie said. “He goes by Dave. Just like Evan goes by Jenks. That’s what they all do.”
I looked at my roommate and tried to force my heart out of my throat. “Emmie, I swear…”
She looked at me weirdly for a half a second and then waved me off, her mouth breaking into a smile. “It’s okay. But did he really tell you his name was Will? He hates his first name.”
I thought back to that first day. “No,” I shook my head. “It was a misunderstanding. He said his name was Willmont and I guess I shortened it to Will. He didn’t correct me. Emmie, I…”
She shook her head. “No, seriously. It’s okay. He’s a total flirt. I get it. I guess I should be flattered that you think he’s hot, right?” she laughed, but it was a bit strained. Like she was trying to be the big person.
But it was suddenly awkward. The guy she’d been talking about for two weeks; the perfect, sexy and smart guy who was an amazing kisser turned out to be the same guy I’d been secretly pining over.
And was going to be spending the year working wit
h.
“Dave is a flirt,” Kaylee said. “But he’s not the cheating type. And anyway, we all know he’s absolutely in love with you, Emmie.”
“And anyway, you’ve got Brady, right?” Celia said, also trying to ease the tension.
We all looked at her and I could have hugged her and Kaylee in that moment.
“Right,” I said. “Brady.”
“He’s totally into you,” Chelly said. “I saw you talking to him the other day outside the stables. He’s never shown any interest in anyone before, but he was looking at you like he wanted to throw you down on the floor of the stables. It was hot.” She made a point of fanning herself with her hand.
I glanced at Emmie, who seemed to be relieved at that.
“He’s totally sexy,” Celia said. “Those eyes. Rowr.”
We all laughed. Things were almost back to normal.
Almost.
But on the inside I was still panicking that later Emmie was going to remember what I’d said about liking the trunk mover guy and she was going to hate me.
My heart began to pound as we pulled up to the Westwood driveway. My objective for the evening had just done a one-eighty. I was no longer eager to see Willmont Davidson again; I was desperate to avoid him at all costs.
The Westwood Restroom
The good thing about being in panic mode? Adrenaline floods your body and your extreme exhaustion gives way to a kind of hysterical mania. The good news: I no longer felt like I was dying of fatigue. The bad news: my fight or flight response had been engaged and I wanted nothing more than to run the five miles or so back to Rosewood. In heels.
But with my friends gathered close, that wasn’t going to happen, so the best I could hope for was damage control.
The bus pulled up to the front doors of Westwood, but before we could get off, the dean boarded and gave us a big lecture about being on our best behavior. We were warned not to go into boys’ rooms or darkened hallways and that any lewd or inappropriate behavior (Chelly made a gesture, shoving her left thumb into the cup of her right hand, making us all giggle) would get us removed from the dance and returned to Rosewood immediately. She also threatened us with a call home if that happened, which did cause a few straightened backs among my fellow students.
It was a moot point for me, so I wasn’t worried.
As we all poured off the bus, most of the girls eager to get into Westwood as quickly as possible despite the dean’s prohibitive warnings, I hung back with Kaylee, moving slowly to allow all the rest of the girls to get into the gym first. I figured my best plan of attack was to hang out in the bathroom for a few minutes and let everyone get situated before I made my entrance. Best to approach a scene like this with caution.
“You okay?” Kaylee asked quietly.
I looked over and gave her a half smile. “Yeah. It’s just…weird, I guess.”
She held the front door of the Westwood main building open for me, nodding me through. “You really had no idea?”
“None. I never would have gone on about him…” I rubbed my right temple as we walked, noting that Westwood looked a lot like Rosewood: lots of marble and rich wood, though it smelled different, more masculine. Even just an hour before, I would have been drawn to it, but now, it was like the smell of impending disaster.
“God, Kaylee, I feel like such an idiot.”
“If you didn’t know, it’s not your fault.” She lowered her voice. “He is just about the hottest guy here, so there’s no faulting your taste.”
I gave her a look. “You, too?”
She shrugged. “I’m not after him or anything, but come on, he’s the whole package, right?”
I wasn’t about to argue. And I’d known a guy like that had to be taken already; foolish to think for a second that he might have been interested in me. I looked around. “Where’s the bathroom?”
“This way.” Kaylee’s hand landed on my shoulder as she guided me away from the crowd we were following and down a quiet hallway. “Don’t worry about it. It’ll blow over. Emmie’s not the jealous type, and it’s not like anything happened with him. Right?” She looked at me pointedly, like she was waiting for me to agree with her.
“Of course not! He just helped me with my stuff. He was really nice, just like I said. That’s all. I guess…I don’t know. Maybe at the time I thought there was more to it. I don’t have a lot of experience with boys, obviously.”
Kaylee nodded and pushed through the door into the ladies’ restroom. “You’re not alone. I’m not too popular at these things, either.”
Kaylee was shy and quiet—definitely a bookworm, but she was pretty and really funny once you got to know her. I hooked my arm through hers. “It’s you and me, girlfriend. Let’s make a pact: we will both slow dance with at least one hot guy tonight.”
She looked at me like she was going to be ill. “I don’t know, Brooklyn. It’s a miracle I’m even here. I don’t think I’m up for anything like that.”
I frowned. “What does that mean? Is this about what Celia was talking about on the bus?
She looked under the stall doors, and when she made sure we were alone, she leaned against the sink counter and crossed her arms. “You didn’t hear about what happened last year.” It wasn’t a question. I shook my head anyway. “What happened?”
Avoiding my eyes, she fidgeted her hands.
“Kaylee?”
She looked up at me. “It’s so humiliating.”
I couldn’t even imagine what had happened to Kaylee, but whatever it was, it was making her blush and fidget just by thinking about it. I wasn’t about to push her, but I could tell she wanted to tell me.
She swallowed. “I barfed.”
“What?”
“At last year’s holiday dance, right before Christmas. I had the flu but didn’t know it. I was dancing with the girls during a fast song and Phillip was there with us. I think maybe he had been interested, too. Next thing I knew, I got super hot; I thought it was from the dancing, but no.”
“Oh God,” I said sympathetically.
“Yeah. The worst part is I did it right there on the dance floor. Some of it even hit Phillip’s pants. I almost died.”
“Oh, Kaylee, I’m so sorry.”
She shrugged. “I haven’t been to a dance since. The girls say everyone’s over it, but I don’t know. I…” she exhaled loudly.
I gave her a hug then pulled away, still holding her shoulders. “Okay, look. We’re obviously a couple of social misfits who are going to be kind of under the microscope at this dance tonight. We’ll stick together, but I still think we should do that pact thing. We both need to cleanse our palates with some cute guys.”
She looked unsure. “I don’t know, Brooklyn.”
“I do,” I said, exuding a confidence that I didn’t really feel but figured I could fake my way through. “Come on. We’ll get through this together.”
She took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay. Let’s do it.”
The Gym Arrival
Kaylee and I walked into the gym together, though I’m not sure which one of us was more nervous. I gave her a smile, which she returned.
Sort of. Okay, maybe she was more nervous.
I looked around to try to find our friends, which wasn’t easy among the loud music and dim lights punctuated by moving spots and strobes.
“Over there,” Kaylee said, pointing to the right side of the room that had been decorated with streamers and posters of our schools’ crests. Not the most fun decorations, but the music was good, and as we walked over to our friends, I saw most people were smiling and laughing, so that was what really mattered.
And it didn’t appear Will…Dave was with Emmie, so that was a plus. I scanned around just to make sure, but the look on her face as she bit her lip anxiously and did a room scan of her own, told me he wasn’t there. I felt bad for her, but relieved nonetheless
Her face brightened as we approached. “There you two are! We were getting worried you’d g
one back to Rosewood.”
“Nope,” I said. Even though the thought had occurred to me, I didn’t say.
“Just a little bio break,” Kaylee explained.
“So…” I began, hoping someone would fill us in on the lay of the land so far.
“Dave’s not here yet,” Emmie said. “That’s the problem with the dance being at their campus; they wander down when they feel like it. He was supposed to be here by now.” She clucked her tongue; I couldn’t tell if she was angry or nervous. Maybe a bit of both.
I looked around and realized the Rosewood girls probably made up something like eighty percent of the bodies in the room.
“Don’t worry,” Celia said. “Once they realize we’re here, they’ll come down. They are boys, after all. Come on, let’s get a soda,” she grabbed my arm and led Kaylee and I over to the ‘bar’, set up with sodas and juices. There were also plenty of snacks, which my empty stomach appreciated, since I’d skipped supper.
And then, just as I reached for a bag of Doritos, I heard Chelly announce the boys had arrived, her voice an almost inaudible purr over the music.
“They’re here.”
As one, we turned and looked at the dozen or so boys that headed the pack. Perhaps we seemed predatory, but in fairness, our interest was matched by that of the new arrivals as they looked around, taking us in.
And, I had to admit, they deserved our attention, because they all looked good in their suits, complete with fancy pocket squares in various colors. They were clean, their hair brushed and styled, and I imagined they probably took as much care in getting ready for this dance as we had. Actually, in my case, probably more.
We were all on display for each other.
“This is like a weird social experiment,” I said to Kaylee.
She nodded, keeping her gaze on her soda.
“What does Phillip look like?” I asked.
Her head snapped up. “What?”
“You’re going to dance with him, right?”
She gave me a terrified look. “Oh I don’t think so. I can’t dance with him.”
“Yes you can. It was a long time ago. And it’s just a dance. What does he look like?”
She took a sip of her soda and discreetly looked around. “There. On the right in that group with four other guys. He’s the second tallest one with the dark hair and glasses.”