“So we’re gonna be in Florida for Thanksgiving,” he said, mercifully changing the subject. “My family’s got this place on Fisher Island.”
The only thing she’d heard about Fisher Island was that it was one of the wealthiest neighborhoods in Miami. People who had condos there usually paid millions for them.
“That’s nice,” she said. “I’ve never been there.”
“It’s amazing. Killer waterskiing. And right off the coast from South Beach. I think we’re gonna go deep-sea fishing. Last time I almost caught this marlin that was huuuge.” He held his hands as far apart as he could. “Sucker was, like, fourteen feet long.”
She searched for something interesting to say but could only come up with “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah,” he said.
There was a long silence. Yikes, Carina thought. They’d only been together ten minutes, and already this date was tanking.
“That’s a nice watch,” she said, noticing the gigantic silver Rolex on his wrist.
“It was a birthday present,” he said proudly, absently twisting the band. “It wasn’t the one I really wanted, but it does the trick.”
“What was the one you really wanted?” she asked.
“The one with the chronograph, for when I dive,” he said. “I used to have one but it fell off in the Caymans.”
“So you lost a Rolex in the ocean and then you got another one?” she asked.
He grinned. “Yep.”
“Ugh,” she said.
Carter’s grin vanished. She realized with a shock that she’d said that out loud.
“I mean… um… ugh that you lost it,” she stammered.
It didn’t work. Carter was still looking at her like she had an infectious disease when a busboy walked up with their plates.
“Young Chicken Sandwich?” he asked.
“Over here,” Carter muttered.
“That looks really good,” she said, hoping to make peace.
Carter smiled thinly. “Thanks.”
“And this looks amazing,” she said to her sandwich.
Carter didn’t say anything.
As Carina bit into her twelve-dollar BLT, she realized that her dream date had suddenly gone AWOL.
“So I saw Laetitia’s e-mail,” she said. “I guess we’re all gonna stay at the Ritz-Carlton for the first night?”
“Yeah, my uncle’s still gonna be at the chalet,” he said offhandedly. “He doesn’t leave for Greece until the next day.”
“So your uncle’s not gonna be there?” she asked. This entire time, she’d assumed that he would at least be in the house.
“Oh, no way,” Carter said. “I wouldn’t have wanted to go if he were. It’s gonna be just us.”
“And your parents are cool with that?” she asked.
“Yeah, why wouldn’t they be?” he asked, his voice curdling with irritation. “Do you need to be chaperoned or something?”
“No,” she said carefully. “I just… I didn’t realize that was the plan.” She picked at her sandwich, feeling like a shamed child. But it had been an honest question. Why had he been so obnoxious? Lizzie was right. Carter McLean was kind of a jerk.
When the check finally came, Carter slapped his Visa card down on the tray without even looking at the bill.
“Thanks,” she said awkwardly. “That was really good.”
Carter just shifted around in his chair. “Glad you enjoyed it,” he muttered, reaching for his coat.
When they walked out onto the street, a bitter wind was blowing down Sixtieth Street. Carina looked at her watch. It wasn’t even nine fifteen yet, but this night definitely felt over.
“Well, thanks for hanging out,” he said tonelessly as he zipped up his fleece.
“Yeah, that was really fun.” She smiled at him, waiting. Maybe if she tried really hard, maybe if she could get him to kiss her, she could somehow salvage this date, and turn him back to the Carter she’d had a crush on.
But he just looked up and down the street, distracted, his green eyes searching for something—or someone—that wasn’t her.
“Did you want to go somewhere else?” she asked.
“Nah, I’m really tired,” he said. “And I’m getting up early to run the reservoir tomorrow. But can I get you a cab?”
“That’s okay, I can walk,” she said. “See you Monday.”
He leaned down and gave her a quick, barely there kiss on the cheek.
“See you,” he said, backing away from her like she had the plague.
It was crazy, she thought, turning around and setting off down the block. From the moment she’d sat down at the table, the night had been a complete, unmitigated disaster. But had that been her fault, for opening her big mouth and saying Ugh? Or had it been Carter’s for being a spoiled jerk? And if he was a spoiled jerk, then why had she been so disappointed with how the night had ended—with a lame kiss on the cheek?
She needed to call Lizzie and Hudson and figure this out with them. But when she pulled out her phone, she saw that she had a voice mail from her mom. She listened to the message, turning up the volume.
“Hi, honey, it’s me, and I’m so, so, SO sorry that it’s taken me this long to get back to you. Things have been just insane here… One of my instructors quit without giving me any notice, and I’ve just been inundated with new students… Anyway, I wanted you to know that I’ll be in town on the thirtieth—before I leave for India—I’m going to another ashram—and I’m looking forward to a nice long catch-up session then. I miss you, honey!”
She hung up the phone. She was happy to hear that her mom would be in town but she was also relieved that she’d missed the call. Having to recap all the strange and difficult events of the past couple weeks wasn’t something that she felt like doing right now. It was hard enough just living through each moment. And for now she couldn’t wait to get home, curl up on the couch, and eat the rest of those cheapo taquitos.
chapter 18
“C, you know I would totally come out to Montauk for the day or something, but my mom’s freaking out that we’re still in the studio,” Hudson said the day before Thanksgiving as they walked to their last class. “She wants to do a couple tracks over. And you should hear them—it already doesn’t even sound like my voice. She’s put it through the compressor so many times I sound like Gwen Stefani on helium.”
“Is your cute producer still kissing her butt?” Lizzie asked. The day before Thanksgiving break at Chadwick was always Free Dress Day, and Lizzie had on a very cool electric purple top with a deep V-neck, and a silk cardigan with a huge flower appliqué. Carina had glimpsed both pieces in the Anthropologie catalog before she’d tossed it sadly in the trash.
“Of course he’s kissing her butt,” Hudson said, untangling her silver necklaces. “The good thing is my mom seems to love him. And you know how she hates everybody.” Hudson looked amazing, as usual, in a metallic silver empire-waist dress and black opaque tights. “At least it makes my life easier.”
Carina pulled at the zipper of her favorite Vince hoodie. She’d paired it with a cute striped top from Barneys that she’d bought last year, but standing next to her stylish-looking friends right now, she wished that she had something newer to show off.
“So, C, I would go too but I’m going down to North Carolina with Todd and his mom,” Lizzie said. “I guess all of his mom’s family is down there.”
“That’s okay, you guys,” Carina said, trying not to sound as pathetic as she felt. “I can figure something out.”
“Aren’t you and your dad sort of getting along?” Lizzie asked.
Carina thought about the handful of times she’d seen him since their fight two weeks ago at the Princess cocktail party. She definitely wouldn’t say that they were getting along. They’d barely spoken at dinner, except for his routine questions about school and her one-syllable answers.
“Not really. But today I’m being summoned back to the Death Star for that dumb interview on being a ‘real-life p
rincess,’ ” she answered. “Maybe that means I didn’t totally piss him off at that cocktail party.”
“I thought you were getting out of that,” Lizzie said, scanning the hallway for Todd.
“Yeah, I thought you told your dad that it was a bad idea,” Hudson said.
“And you think he listened to me?” Carina said. “No way. He thinks it’s amazing. Just what I want to do as soon as I’m off for Thanksgiving break.”
There’d been a time—back when her mom was still around—when Thanksgiving had been Carina’s favorite holiday. They’d all gone down to Jamaica to their house on a cliff overlooking Montego Bay. They’d spend their days walking the beach, swimming in the infinity pool, and reading in the hammocks on the gigantic flagstone-paved veranda. And then there’d been the yummy Jamaican-style feast of jerk chicken and conch fritters instead of traditional turkey and stuffing.
But those days were over. Now Turkey Day meant glomming on to her friends’ plans to avoid spending four days with the Jurg in his cold, glass-walled Montauk mansion. But this year, glomming on wouldn’t be possible. Which meant that Carina would be on her own in Montauk, tiptoeing around her dad’s house, and her dad.
“Wait—doesn’t Carter have a place in East Hampton?” Hudson asked. “Invite him over!”
“He’s going to Florida. And I think we’re kind of over each other.”
“C, just because he didn’t kiss you—” Lizzie started.
“No, it’s not that. I just feel like something’s changed.” She hitched her book bag onto her other shoulder as they stopped in front of the lockers. “I was sitting there in Serendipity, and all of a sudden it was like he morphed into a completely different guy. Right in front of me.”
“Maybe you’re the one who’s morphed,” Hudson said.
“Huh?” Carina asked.
“You’ve changed, C,” Hudson said, putting books in her locker. “You can’t see it, but we can. You’re calmer. More mature. Not so impulsive anymore.”
“Maybe he just doesn’t look that good to you anymore,” Lizzie said, tying her red hair into a knot.
Carina thought about this. She did feel different. But why did it have to make other people different, too? “Well, maybe we were just having an off night,” she said.
“Are you still going to go on the trip?” Lizzie asked.
The trip. She’d gotten another one of Laetitia’s group e-mails, this one about getting a reservation at Rue de Soleil, which, according to the Fodor’s website, was one of the most expensive restaurants in Chamonix. Like the other e-mail about the Ritz-Carlton, she’d just ignored it.
“I guess so,” she said listlessly.
“Well, I guess that’s good,” Lizzie said, slamming her locker closed. “Otherwise you’d be crazy to want to keep dealing with Ava.”
“Speaking of,” Hudson whispered. “Time to enter Crazytown again.”
“Carina?” Ava called out behind her. “Can I talk to you?”
Carina turned around to see Ava striding toward her in fringed mukluks, leather jeans, and a fur-trimmed poncho. Trailing behind her were the Icks, looking more subdued in skinny jeans, ankle boots, and long cashmere sweater coats, but still a tad overdressed for a four-hour school day.
“Hi, Ava,” Carina said, trying not to sound apprehensive. She hadn’t done more work on the party lately, but she figured that after her Trader Joe’s triumph a week and a half ago, she could relax a little.
“So, now that the dance is less than a month away,” Ava said, training her glittering eyes on Carina, “I’ve been thinking. I know we already have a DJ, but wouldn’t it be cool if we could get someone to sing?”
“Sing?” Carina repeated, dumbstruck.
“Well, we have this great stage,” Ava explained. “And how awesome would it be if someone could come out and do one or two really great songs?”
What is this? Ava-palooza? Carina thought. “Who were you thinking of?” she asked, trying to ignore Ilona’s piercing blue-eyed stare.
“I dunno,” Ava said, annoyed at being pinned down. “Didn’t your dad get Justin Timberlake once for one of his things?”
“Justin Timberlake?”
“Or what about the Jonas Brothers? Your dad’s used them, right?” Ava asked, batting her long lashes. “I mean, if he has, then it’s not that big a deal to ask.”
That was it, she thought. This was getting ridiculous. She had to finally tell Ava once and for all that her dad had nothing to do with this party.
But then she got a brilliant idea.
“You know, there’s someone we could get who’s even better and newer than JT or the Jonas Brothers,” she said. “Someone who’s about to break out any minute.”
“Who?” Ava asked skeptically.
“How about Hudson Jones?”
Carina looked over at her friend. Hudson had gone almost as pale as Lizzie, and her Chanel berry-stained mouth was popped open in shock. Oops, Carina thought.
“Hudson?” Ava asked, as if Carina had just said that she would sing herself.
“Well, she’s just about to finish recording her first album, and she’s totally on the verge of becoming a star,” Carina said proudly as she put her arm around her friend. “We’d be the first ones to get her live. It’d be like seeing Robert Pattinson in his school play.”
Hudson winced a little under her arm.
Carina glanced over at Lizzie. She had two furious-looking pools of red in her cheeks as she stared at the floor.
“Actually, I really don’t think I’m ready to do anything live yet,” Hudson said in a wavery voice. “But I totally appreciate the invitation—”
“Oh, but it’s just one night,” Carina persisted. “And you’d be going to the dance anyway, right?”
She knew that she was putting Hudson on the spot, but with Ava and the Icks all staring at her, she couldn’t stop herself.
Hudson bit her bottom lip and nodded her head.
“Well, I think that could work,” Ava said with a sigh. “I mean, I’ve heard you have a great voice and everything.”
“Great!” Carina jumped in. “We’ll chat later about it over the break, okay?”
“Okay,” Ava said, oblivious to Hudson’s ashen face. “We’ll talk about songs later. I have very specific taste.”
Ava and the Icks moved off into the stream of people in the hall, leaving the three of them in an awkward silence.
“Hudson,” Carina whispered as they walked into class. “I’m so sorry. I hope you don’t hate me.”
Hudson was quiet as they found three empty seats in the back and sat down.
“Don’t worry, I can get you out of it,” Carina said.
“Then why’d you get her into it?” Lizzie whispered.
“It’s fine,” Hudson said, putting a hand on Carina’s arm. She would do anything to prevent a fight. “Really. It’s not a big deal.”
Carina felt like the worst friend in the world as she leaned down and pulled out her Survey of World History textbook. But objectively speaking, Hudson really was the perfect choice for the dance. She was a better singer than anyone else they could get, and it would be the perfect way for her to get used to being onstage.
“Hey,” she said, putting her hand on Hudson’s arm. “At least your first show will be in front of people you know.”
“That’s what I was trying to avoid,” Hudson said, trying to smile. “But that’s okay. I’ll do it.”
“Thanks, H,” she said, giving Hudson a quick hug. As she pulled away, Carina could feel the heat of Lizzie’s critical glare. She clearly didn’t approve. The rift that had been growing for weeks between her and Lizzie had just gotten a little bigger. And Carina was starting to wonder when it was going to explode.
chapter 19
“Barb’ll be right in,” said the baby-faced assistant as she showed Carina into Barb’s plush corner office at Princess. “But can I get you something to drink? Iced tea? Cappuccino? Vitaminwater?”
 
; “Nothing, I’m fine,” Carina said.
“You sure? We have Pellegrino,” she offered, tipping her head so that her blond highlights glowed under the halogen light.
“No, really, I’m cool.”
The assistant gave Carina a quick, all-business nod, and then hightailed it out of the office.
Carina dropped her book bag on the thick white carpet and sighed. Seeing how eager people were to be nice to her always made her uneasy. The same thing had happened when she’d interned at her dad’s corporate headquarters, fifteen stories above the Princess offices. Everyone—assistants, vice presidents, even the cleaning staff—seemed harried or just plain scared around her. Maybe that’s why she’d felt so uncomfortable being there. There was no way she’d ever be just an intern.
She walked over to Barb’s floor-to-ceiling window and looked out at the gray, wet canyons of Midtown below. Things had still been a little weird between her and Lizzie and Hudson after class. When they said good-bye on the street in front of school, Hudson had just shrugged when Carina told her to hang in there with the recording stuff. And Lizzie had called out “Have fun!” when they went their separate ways on the street. Lizzie never said stuff like “Have fun!” Clearly they were still upset with her for how she’d gotten Hudson involved in the party. But she knew that if she called Hudson and asked her whether she was okay, Hudson would just say she was.
Sometimes girls were so frustrating, Carina thought. At least with boys you knew where you stood. Like with Carter. She’d seen him for only a second through the window of the pizza place, sitting with Anton and Laetitia as soon as school got out. But he had looked right at her, and then through her. No smile, nothing. Which could only mean that he’d come out of their date just as disappointed as she’d been. At least he didn’t try to still be her friend, she thought. It was almost a relief.
“So sorry to keep you waiting,” a woman called out from the hall, and Carina watched Barb Willis speed walk into the office, looking more disheveled—and frazzled—than she had the other night. Her thin, shoulder-length brown hair was so staticky that some of the ends stood up, and her dark brown blazer seemed to be covered in white dog hair.