Days Of St Croix

Six

  "Fuck fuck fuckity fuck!"Jas shouted at his cellphone. He couldn't believe the text message he had just received. He closed his eyes and looked again.

  PaigeGrrl: J...where's the fucking pckg? My bro went to the restaurant and it wasn't there. He's pissed. Hit me back NOW!

  There it was in black and white. No doubt. Something had gone terribly wrong with Paige's plan.

  "Mr Genovese? Do we have a problem?" It was Dr Carver, the head of Chemistry Department. He had turned around from the whiteboard and was staring at Jas. So was the entire class, for that matter. Jas blushed.

  "Uhh, no. Sorry, sir. I just, uhh, remembered that I left my textbook back in my room."

  "Does anyone want to share with Mr Genovese?" Carver looked around the room.

  "Are you sure I shouldn't go and get it? I think I left my notes inside, too. I'll be right back." He started to get up from his chair.

  "Sit." Instructed Carver, striding over to his desk and snatching up his personal copy. He walked over to Jas and dropped the volume in front of him.

  "That's not a cellphone in your hand, is it?" He glared at Jas.

  "No, sir, of course not." Jas smiled his most charming smile. It didn't work. Dr Carver was apparently not human.

  "I certainly hope not, Mr Genovese." He turned and walked back to the board. "And I'll thank you not to use that language in my classroom. Save it for the rugby field."

  "Yes, sir." Jas muttered. He carefully slipped his phone back into his blazer pocket and opened the textbook. Fuck. He had an hour to go before the class ended and he could reply to Paige. He squirmed in his seat and tried to think what to do. How could the package go missing? How unlikely was it that someone had looked in the toilet tank in the last twenty-four hours? There had to be an explanation for it. Or, if it was true that the pills were gone, he had to figure out how he was going to pay back Paige's brother. Not that he was afraid of him, but he didn't want word getting out that he regularly ripped-off drug dealers. That's not a good reputation for anyone to have.

  After what seemed like a fucking eternity the class was dismissed and Jas slipped out into the hall, fishing his phone from his pocket as he went.

  JasGen: Paige, R U sure? I left it in the toilet like u said...it must be there...tell yr bro to check again.

  PaigeGrrl: WTF, Jas! If he said it wasn't there, it wasn't there. Are you trying to rip us off?

  JasGen: Us? I thought it was your brother's package. Anyway, u told me to leave it in there.

  PaigeGrrl: W/E, the point is it's gone and you owe him 15k.

  JasGen: Fuck. Okay, rlx. I'll figure something out.

  PaigeGrrl: Txt me later. I'll hold off my bro as long as I can.

  Jas ran his hand through his hair and sucked in through his teeth. He wasn't the type of guy to panic, but he had to admit he was kind of stumped. He hadn't met Paige's brother. Didn't know who the hell he was. For that matter, he had only met Paige once, for a few hours. If he was honest with himself, he didn't know who the hell she was, either. What he couldn't forget, though, was the way her mouth had tasted when she had kissed him as he was leaving her beach house. He was thinking about it when a pair of arms slipped around his waist from behind and a familiar chin rested on his shoulder.

  "Mills, am I glad to see you." Jas turned around and looked at Mills. Her hair was braided on either side, and in her uniform she looked several years younger than she had the day before, but every bit as cute. She leaned in and kissed him.

  "Everything okay? You seem a bit tense." Mills reached up and touched Jas's hair, then ran her fingers lightly down the side of his face. He shrugged.

  "I'm fine." He looked over her shoulder, avoiding her eyes.

  "Okay, good." She said, "Because I want to talk to you about something."

  "Sure, what is it?" He returned his gaze to her face. She was looking playful, staring up at him with her soft green eyes . It was actually turning him on quite a bit.

  "Not here." She whispered. She let go of his waist and slipped her hand into his, then pulled him down the hall and around a corner. The walls were paneled in deep golden oak and hung with photographs of rugby and lacrosse teams. At one end of the hall was a large glass case filled with sporting trophies and more photographs. On the other side, a small doorway led to a passage outside. Mills pushed the door open with her foot, and pulled Jas after her. The door swung shut behind them, and they were hidden from view. She pulled him close to her again and whispered in his ear.

  "I want you. Soon." She breathed, then gently bit his ear lobe. She had read in Cosmopolitan that this was one of the male erogenous zones. She tried to gauge his reaction. It seemed to work, because he closed his eyes. She nibbled a bit harder. Jas groaned. She took his hands in hers and guided them up under her blouse. His fingers teased at the lace of her bra. She held his hands there for a moment, then let them go, sliding her own fingers into the waistband of his pants. He was wearing a belt, and it was tight, so she couldn't get her hand any further in. Jas wriggled slightly, but it was no use. It was too awkward. Mills sighed, and Jas removed his hands from under her shirt. He laughed.

  "I want you, too. Later, though."

  "When?" She hadn't intended it to sound so desperate. She hoped he didn't think she was being too forward. How could he? He's a boy! This is what they want, right?

  "I don't know, Saturday?" They both laughed.

  "I'm sorry, Jas, it's just that I really missed you over the summer, and I really want to be close to you." Oh, God, that sounded pathetic. Better stop talking, Mills. She tucked her blouse back in and took a vanilla lip gloss out of her bag, running it over her mouth.

  "Got to get to class. See you later?" She tried to come off cooler. She wasn't sure if it worked.

  "Definitely, babe." Jas smiled, meeting her eyes finally. Mills smiled back, then turned back inside, heading up the corridor away from Jas. Something was definitely up with her boyfriend, and while Mills wasn't usually the sort to be paranoid, she had to admit that she was starting to wonder what the fuck was going on.

  Tibby had received a text message in class, too, although hers had provoked quite a different reaction.

  "Oh my God!" She blurted out halfway through European History. She giggled excitedly. It was a good thing the teacher was half-deaf, because Tibby wasn't sure she was going to be able to contain her excitement. She read the text again: it was from her mom. The French director, Etienne Girard, had called her father and asked when he could see Tibby. The sooner the better!

  Tibby quickly replied to her mom, her fingers flying across the keypad. Was the weekend too soon for her to prepare? It made her nervous in an excited sort of way, but if her mom was there with her she'd be fine. Her mom must have met with hundreds of directors, so Tibby would just copy whatever she did. She wondered about brushing up on her French, but maybe that was going too far. Etienne Girard was coming to see her, so all she had to do was look stunning and behave like an actress would behave.

  That was the problem.

  Apart from a junior high production of The Crucible where she'd played Betty Parris, Tibby hadn't acted in anything before. Not that she hadn't wanted to. Sometimes she desperately desired it, but every time she got close to signing up and auditioning, she got so nervous that she wanted to throw up. Occasionally she actually did throw up. She had forced herself to audition for The Crucible, thinking that the nausea would pass, but it never did. Instead she spent six miserable weeks with the shakes, stomach cramps and near-hysterical terror whenever she thought about performing. If this is what it's going to be like, she had told herself, then maybe it's not for me. But deep down she knew it was.

  Her mom and dad encouraged Tibby in everything she did, but they worried about pressuring her into something she might not want to pursue; it was hard enough that both parents were in the movie business without having them pushing her onstage from an early age. As far as they were concerned, if she wanted to go into acting, that was fine with them, but t
hey weren't going to make it a point. Unfortunately for Tibby, she misinterpreted their passive support as silent criticism of her talent. How horrible must I be, she thought tearfully to herself more than once, if my own parents don't even encourage me to audition?

  Which was why it was so amazing to hear that Etienne Girard had asked about her. Even her dad had seemed excited about it this time! A movie with her playing the lead, and a director who most people worshiped. She trembled in her seat and wondered what the meeting would be like.

  Out in the hall, her phone vibrated.

  "Hey mom!"

  "Hey sweetheart. So I'm bringing Etienne up to St Croix tomorrow. He's going to stay in town. We'll have lunch out at Mirabelle and you can meet him properly, okay."

  Tibby just about threw up in her mouth.

  "Umm, okay mom! Great!"

  "Want us to pick you up?"

  "No, I'll meet you at the restaurant." Tibby didn't want Etienne Girard coming to her school. That would be too embarrassing for words.

  "Are you sure?"

  "Definitely. See you then."

  Tibby shook visibly as she closed the door to her room and locked it. She was supposed to be in Latin but it was Friday afternoon and she had less than twenty-four hours to prepare an outfit for her lunch with her mom and Etienne Girard. She threw open her closet and started pulling out clothes. Dark blue Seven For All Mankind jeans? Cream Robert Rodriguez skirt? Vintage t-shirt? Red Jimmy Choos? Tibby was perfectly capable of looking fabulous all by herself, but it would be nice to get some help from her friends. She unlocked her door and headed down the corridor, knocking on doors as she went.

  As she suspected, she wasn't the only girl skipping out on the penultimate class of the day.

  Carla Massey and Bryn Winter were more than happy to come out of their hiding places for a dress-up in Tibby's room. Everyone knew of course that Tibby's mom was Jodie Easton, and everyone had seen her mom's best movie, Desert Snowflake, in which she played a teenage runaway who hides out in a small town in Nevada after her parents split up. Even though it was twenty years old, it was practically required viewing for all teenage girls, and the soundtrack was totally awesome, especially in the scene where Jodie's character dances with the blind guy at the diner and everyone applauds. That scene always has everyone weeping. So naturally all the girls at St Croix wanted to be best friends with Tibby; especially two meek freshman girls who went quiet every time Tibby or Mills walked by.

  "Okay girls, seriously, this is important in ways you cannot even imagine, so pay attention." Tibby faced Carla and Bryn and held up a shirt in each hand.

  "That one!" They both answered together, pointing at a deep chestnut bias-cut off-the-shoulder silk shrug which shimmered slightly in the light.

  "And a teeny skirt!" Gushed Bryn, who couldn't believe her luck, advising Tibby on her outfit. She wasn't bad-looking herself, but next to her, Tibby Richmond was a goddess.

  "And knee-highs!" Carla chimed in, pointing at a pair of Tibby's brown Ferragamo boots.

  "Girls, what the fuck?" Exclaimed Tibby, hushing them. "If I wanted to look like a whore I would have watched Pretty Woman again. But I don't. I need to look outrageously gorgeous and worthy to be in Etienne Girard's new movie."

  Carla and Bryn looked at each other, confused. Tibby sighed.

  "Etienne Girard? The director? He's, like, the Wes Anderson of French cinema!" Tibby was exasperated. Clearly these girls were not film buffs. Actually, she wasn't sure Etienne Girard was really the Wes Anderson of French cinema, but it sounded right; arty, but popular enough that people outside of film school had actually heard of him. She had conveniently forgotten that, just a few days ago, she hadn't heard of Etienne Girard, either.

  "Can you name one of his movies?" Bryn asked meekly.

  "Of course." Tibby snapped. "There's that one with, you know, the guy and Audry Tatou. It's, like, the country, or something, after the war."

  Bryn shrugged and looked at Carla, then back at Tibby. She thought it best to say nothing.

  "Okay, girls, let's make it easy. I need to look hot for a sixty-year-old French dude."

  "Ewww!" Both girls pulled faces and laughed. Tibby couldn't help but laugh with them. It did sound pretty awful. Still, her mom would be there. It was all business.

  "Well, if you want to look sophisticated and European, I'd go with the jeans, boots and that cute cardigan you were wearing in the dining hall last night." Carla reached forward and took both shirts away from Tibby and put them on the bed. She picked up a denim skirt and a sheer white camisole.

  "Or you could go the sex-kitten route and wear these. With sandals."

  Tibby looked impressed. She tiptoed quickly into the bathroom, then emerged a moment later with her hair up, and the skirt and camisole thrown on. She stood in front of the mirror and stared.

  "Not bad." She had to admit, it sort of worked. It made her look young, playful, but sexy and confident at the same time. "It doesn't make my legs look short and chunky?"

  "Are you kidding?" Carla jumped in, "Your legs are gorgeous." She had to admit, though, that Tibby's legs were not her best feature. Of course, she wasn't about to say that out loud. Things were going too well - she had helped Tibby pick an outfit, and she knew she looked good in it.

  "Will you let me do your hair for you?" Bryn said, seizing an opportunity. "My mom's stylist showed me some awesome tricks this summer, and you have the same kind of hair as me."

  "We'll see." Tibby turned and went back into the bathroom shaking her head. God! Give these freshman girls an inch and they take a fucking mile. She checked herself out in the small mirror above the sink and smiled.

  "I sure hope Etienne is looking for sex kitten, because that's what he's going to get."