“Did I miss anything?” asked Lili, chancing a look from behind the glass wall with the STD poster urging young girls to get vaccinated.
“Nothing. But I think they just let out, I just heard the bell,” replied Ashley, removing a tiny bottle of Benetint from her pocket and rubbing a little red stain on her cheeks, while A. A. pulled out her pigtails and shook out her hair.
“Has He come out yet?” Lili asked. They always spoke of Him in Capital Letters. He was that Important.
“No,” Ashley said. “That’s why we’re waiting, duh!” She wrinkled her nose and sniffed the air. “Lil, what did you put on?”
“Why?” Lili asked. “It’s YSL. I nicked it from my mom’s dresser.” She stuck her wrist directly under Ashley’s nose. “Doesn’t it smell good?”
“Um, yeah,” Ashley replied.
“Whatever it is, I think I’m allergic,” said A. A., coughing into her hand.
“You’re a spaz!” Lili exclaimed, pushing her backward, and A. A. pushed back, the two of them giggling.
“Stop it! He’ll see us!” Ashley ordered, shushing them, and the two girls calmed down. Serious business was at hand. She staked her place in the very front, with a direct view to the sidewalk across the street.
“Oh, look—there—there he is,” A. A. said excitedly as the doors suddenly opened and a stream of boys in blue blazers exited in a mad rush, spilling out into the street. “I see him!” She peered out from behind the bus shelter, accidentally surprising an elderly woman who was waiting for the bus. A. A. ducked her head back behind the glass to give her two friends room to take a look.
Lili stood on her tiptoes. “Ash, could you move? You’re hogging the prime spot, as usual,” she complained.
“Am not!” Ashley protested. Lili always said that, and nothing could be further from the truth. She could barely see the top of his head.
“SHUSH!” A. A. warned.
“God . . .” Ashley sighed, reflexively putting her hands over her heart.
“He’s just sooo . . .,” Lili cooed.
“Cute,” finished A. A., pushing her two friends to the side so she could get a shot with her cell phone camera.
Cute wasn’t even the word, Ashley thought. More like Perfect. Or Unbelievable. The object of their affection was a tall, towheaded boy. Like the other boys, he wore a navy blazer, a white shirt with a blue and gold tie, and gray flannel pants. But even from a distance, he stood out from the crowd. His hair was a shining crown of gold ringlets, he had the broad shoulders and slim hips of a swimmer or a tennis player, and he walked with a confident, loping stride.
There was something nonchalant and easy about him. Ashley even loved the way he wore his clothes—the blazer was pushed up to his elbows, his gray flannel pants were worn too long so the cuffs dragged on the ground, and his tie was askew. A lacrosse stick was slung behind him with his backpack. He walked across the street, maddeningly close to the bus station, then turned the corner and disappeared down the hill.
“Okay, he won’t see us now. Let’s go,” Ashley said, inching out from their hiding place once she was confident they would not be discovered. The other two followed after her, and they walked in the same direction he had gone.
“Look,” said A. A., showing them the fuzzy, pixilated image she had taken. “I’m so making this my screen saver.”
“A. A., can you please get a new phone? I can barely see him in this,” Lili complained, returning it.
“Do you really think he has a girlfriend?” Ashley asked, keeping an eye on him from two blocks away. The boy stopped by a Starbucks for his daily double-shot espresso. She’d ordered it once after watching him down one and was totally disgusted. She couldn’t believe he could drink something so foul.
“That’s what I heard,” A. A. said. A. A.’s brother knew him from school, so she always had the best information.
“I can’t believe he’s taken,” Lili lamented.
“I know.” Ashley sighed. The boy’s name was William Augustus Reddy, Billy for short. The three of them had been crushing on him forever, and at the moment, Ashley was content to share him with her friends, like a bag of no-salt, fat-free soy crisps. But make no mistake, he was meant to be hers and hers alone.
Like her, Billy Reddy was from one of the wealthiest and most prominent families in the Bay Area. His family had founded the Reddy Oil Company and lived in the Reddy Chateau, an imposing, fifty-thousand-square-foot structure in Pacific Heights that was so big that Mrs. Reddy had started a private Montessori school on the first floor for her grandchildren, according to Ashley’s mom. The family was also famous for owning a fleet of private jets that were always at the “Reddy.”
On some days Ashley was almost positive that he noticed her walking behind him and would catch her eye with a smile. She watched as he left the Starbucks, and after a few minutes, she resumed her shadowing, followed closely by her two friends. Most days Billy walked directly home from school after his coffee fix, although sometimes, like today, he stopped by a couple of the stores on Fillmore Street, browsing in the bookstore or record shop for CDs.
While Billy was in the tiny storefront of the record shop, Ashley suggested to the others that they stop by a nearby deli to load up on snacks. Surveillance always made her hungry. She brought her nonfat selections to the front cashier, where Lili was paying for three Diet Cokes and A. A. waited with her choice from the candy aisle. They paid quickly.
“Pop Rocks?” offered A. A., tearing open the foil packet and shaking the tiny candies onto her hand as they walked out of the store.
Ashley shook her head. “You know, if you eat Pop Rocks and Coke, you die,” she warned, looking meaningfully at the Diet Coke in Lili’s hand.
“That’s not true, it’s just an urban myth,” Lili retorted, although Ashley noticed she made sure to swallow her soda before putting a wad of Pop Rocks into her mouth.
“Wish we could invite Billy to the dance,” said Ashley, opening up a bag of unsalted popcorn and digging in.
“Oh, yeah. Come party with us from four to six.” Lili nodded. “He’ll be really into that.” Sometimes Ashley wished Lili would let up a little. A girl could dream, couldn’t she?
“Seventh-grade boys are so immature,” said A. A., who’d told them earlier that she had no interest in the dance, especially since she was involved with someone who was older and way cooler. “I can’t possibly fathom a relationship with a boy our age. What would we do? Play Monopoly?”
“But we’ll still have fun,” Ashley whined. She hated it when A. A. got all smug about her so-called boyfriend and acted like she was so beyond them all. It was only a few months ago that they had avidly spied on the seventh graders at the dance, wishing they were old enough to join. “Everyone can come to my house to get ready, since it’s just across the street. Isn’t the VIP thing genius?” she asked.
“Yeah. About that. You should really give Lauren a break sometimes,” Lili said lightly.
“Why?” Ashley asked sourly. Hadn’t Lili been there when they all decided Lauren was still a zero? Hadn’t Lili been the one who made up the pig-nose thing? “What’s up with you? It’s like you have a girl crush on her or something.”
Lili flushed. “Whatever. Forget it.”
Ashley was so busy being annoyed with Lili that she didn’t notice that as they were walking, Billy had stopped at the crosswalk, and the three of them were now standing just a few feet behind him. “Omigod! He’s turning around! He’s looking! He’ll see us!” she whispered frantically, fearing imminent exposure. She couldn’t fathom anything worse than being discovered. It was almost like being caught with no clothes on.
“What are we going to do?” Lili panicked.
“Hide!” A. A. hissed.
“Over here! Follow me!” Ashley ordered, like a general leading the troops into battle, and dove into a nearby rosebush for protection. Lili and A. A. followed, laughing and pushing as they stumbled into one another in their haste to scramble for shel
ter.
“Omigod! I think I’m bleeding!”
“Whose idea was this?”
“Aah, I have a thorn in my side!”
“Will you guys please shut up?” Ashley pleaded, trying to keep her voice as low as possible. Her friends gave her such a headache sometimes. It was such a burden having to be the brains of the operation all the time.
“What’s going on in there?” a male voice asked from the sidewalk.
The three of them screamed. Pop Rocks, popcorn, and Diet Coke spilled everywhere. Ashley peered out of the prickly foliage anxiously, convinced that their cover was totally blown.
But it wasn’t Billy Reddy who stood in front of them—it was a very confused-looking Tri Fitzpatrick.
14
GUESSING GAMES
“WE’RE SAFE. IT’S JUST TRI,” A. A. told the other girls. Trust Ashley to find the worst hiding place in the world. Who in their right mind jumps into a rosebush? Even worse, they’d lost the trail. There was no sign of Billy Reddy anywhere. A. A. didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed as she picked her way out of the bushes onto the sidewalk to examine the tiny scratches on her arms and legs.
“Hi, Tri,” Ashley and Lili chorused as they, too, pushed branches aside and climbed their way out of the disastrous hiding place. They smiled at Tri like they would smile at a pet dog. A. A. knew they didn’t think you could really take a guy seriously when he was shorter than you, and as much as it pained A. A. to do so, she had to agree.
“Way to go, Ash, I think I’m scarred for life,” Lili complained, exaggerating as usual, since the cut she was talking about was barely even bleeding. “Does anyone have a Band-Aid?”
“Yeah, can you, like, find us a more comfortable hiding place next time?” asked A. A., shaking her head and showering rose petals all over the sidewalk.
“Emergency measures had to be taken,” Ashley said. “I didn’t hear either of you come up with anything else.” Of course, she couldn’t understand what the big deal was, since she had escaped the bushes relatively unscathed. Typical Ashley. The girl had a good-luck charm over her head.
Tri regarded them with an I’ll-never-understand-girls look on his handsome face. “What’s up? What were you guys doing in there?”
“Nothing.” Ashley giggled, brushing out a few leaves from her sweater. “We were just—”
Lili elbowed her. “Shhh.”
“What’s the big deal?” asked Tri, looking to A. A. for an explanation. But she merely shrugged, embarrassed to have been caught on their private expedition. Tri wouldn’t understand—he’d think it was dumb, and it was dumb, but there were some things that only girls should know. At least until Ashley opened her big mouth and told him all about their “walk and stalk.”
“A stalk and what?” Tri asked, his forehead crinkling adorably, looking more confused than ever.
“Ash, shut up!” Lili yelped, clamping both hands over Ashley’s mouth before her friend could elaborate further. “He knows him!” she warned, as if she were in a spy movie and Ashley were giving up the goods to the enemy.
“What’s the big deal?” asked Ashley, giving Lili a hard pinch. “What could it hurt? Tri’s our buddy,” she went on, giving Tri a big grin. “A walk and stalk. We follow Billy Reddy around after school. It’s our extracurricular. Didn’t A. A. tell you? I thought she told you everything,” she smirked.
“What’s the big deal with Billy Reddy?” Tri asked, still looking flabbergasted by the three squealing girls covered with a combination of candy, popcorn, and greenery. He looked to A. A. for help, but she refused to meet his eye.
“We’re in love. All three of us,” Ashley singsonged.
“With Billy?” Tri asked, still stubbornly on topic. The way he said it was as if they had declared undying affection for some cheesy boy-band clone. A. A. cringed—he’d never let her hear the end of it when they hung out later. She could just hear his voice now: A. A.’s in love with Billy Reddy, A. A.’s in love with Billy Reddy. . . . She would have to shut him up by killing off all his zombies in record time and showing no mercy.
“Yes, with Billy. But you can’t tell him, okay?” Lili said bossily. “Don’t ruin it for us.” She wagged a finger in his face.
“Do I still have leaves in my hair?” asked A. A., trying to change the subject. It was way too awkward talking about Billy with Tri. She wished they could talk about something else, but everyone ignored her.
Ashley grinned wickedly. “A. A. is convinced her secret online boyfriend is Billy Reddy.”
That was a low blow. She looked at Ashley, horrified. “That was a secret!” she cried, punching her on the arm. The afternoon after the tea, she had told Ashley the truth about laxjock in a fit of female bonding. Obviously that had been a terrible idea. Ashley could no more keep a secret than shop for things on sale.
“Oh. Oops,” Ashley said. “Ow!” She massaged her forearm where A. A. had struck her. “That hurt!”
“What secret online boyfriend?” asked Tri, looking keener than ever. A. A. thought his eyes looked like they would bug out of his skull. What, was she not allowed to have secrets of her own? Tri really needed to get a life.
“Yeah, what secret online boyfriend? I thought he was a real guy. You mean you’ve never met?” Lili asked, her eyes narrowing. Now you’ve done it, A. A. thought. Lili hated being left out of the loop and would make her pay dearly for keeping secrets from her—especially secrets that Ashley knew.
“What’s this, Guantanamo?” A. A. huffed. She could feel herself turning bright red and tried to look bored and indifferent. Of course she didn’t really believe Billy Reddy was laxjock. But if she was completely honest with herself, she secretly hoped he would turn out to be her guy. After all, these were the facts. Fact Number One: His online handle was “laxjock.” And who was the best lacrosse player at Gregory Hall? Billy Reddy, who’d been on the varsity team ever since his freshman year. Fact Number Two: Laxjock went to a private school. Billy Reddy went to Gregory Hall—a private school. Fact Number Three: Laxjock lived in San Francisco. And so did Billy Reddy! Case closed.
The other night she and laxjock had spent the entire evening IMing each other. He was so easy to talk to, and they talked about everything—how she missed her mom when she went on her crazy adventures around the globe, how she never really talked to her dad since her parents’ divorce, how she was worried she was going to fail math and get kicked out of Miss Gamble’s, how she loved her friends but sometimes wished they would drop dead.
Now Ashley had blabbed her most cherished secret to the world, and Tri was watching her with a strange look on his face. She knew he thought of her merely as this gangly tomboy he’d been friends with forever, and she wished he would stop looking at her that way. Just because she had a secret online boyfriend didn’t mean they had to stop hanging out.
“Anyway, it’s no big deal. Yes, I have a boyfriend. No, we haven’t met yet, but that doesn’t mean anything. We’re going to meet, really soon,” she said a bit defensively. Last night she and laxjock had confessed to each other that they were scared to meet, since their relationship was already so “perfect” online.
Tri put his earbuds back in. “All right. Whatever. I’ll see you guys later,” he said, already dialing up a song on his phone.
“Hold on,” Ashley said, playfully pulling out his earphones. “You coming to our dance next month?”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Miss Gamble’s Afternoon Delight?”
“Shut up. It’s not our fault our school is overprotective,” retorted Ashley.
“Yeah. I’ll be there.” He nodded.
“Make sure you get all your friends to come too, ’kay?” Lili asked. Good call for Lil. Having more girls than boys at the mixer was a traumatic and not-unheard-of event at Miss Gamble’s.
“See you, Tri,” A. A. called, and he saluted her as he walked away. Ashley and Lili wanted to window-shop the boutiques on Union Street, but she didn’t feel like hanging out anymore and
went straight back to the penthouse.
• • •
Tri came over later that night with a bunch of other guys to watch some gorefest on cable. Surprisingly, he didn’t mention anything about what had happened that afternoon, and A. A. didn’t bring it up either. They were content to watch college kids get carved up by psychos on vacation. When the movie ended, Tri and his brother went home and A. A. logged in online.
She called up laxjock’s home page and sent him a message. Lili was right. It was ridiculous that she didn’t even know who he was or what he looked like. Did she really have a boyfriend? Or was it just some phantom dude with an IP connection? It was time to face reality. She typed two words onscreen and sent them whizzing to his in-box.
“Let’s meet.”
15
A CUTE BOY MAKES THE BEST PUH (PERSONAL UMBRELLA HOLDER)
“SOMETHING BOTHERING YOU?” DEX ASKED, when Lauren climbed into the Tesla the next morning.
“No, why?” she replied, shaking her head.
“You’ve been quiet lately,” Dex said, cocking his head and studying her before getting into the front seat. “Those girls being mean to you again?”
“I’d rather not talk about it,” Lauren snapped. When she found out the Ashleys had spread that ridiculous rumor about her family being “connected,” she got so mad she really did feel like “whacking” somebody. Her dad had worked really, really hard for his success. The Mafia thing was so off base it wasn’t even worth getting upset about, but she couldn’t help herself. And the story about her nose being sculpted from a pig’s butt—well, that was just too absurd to even pay attention to. They were just jealous, she kept telling herself. Living well was the best revenge, her dad always said, but what was the point of living large when there was no one to see it? If a Gucci bag was bought at the outlet and no one saw, would it count?