By the time she got off the 6 train at Fifty-ninth Street, she was damp and chilled. She pushed past some Christmas shoppers on the platform and sprinted up the steps. She couldn’t wait to get into a hot bath, climb into bed, and forget this day.
But as soon as she walked in her front door, she saw the coat-rack set up in the hallway and the waiters scurrying in and out of the kitchen with drinks on trays, and the extra security men standing with Otto at his desk, monitoring the tiny television screens with stony expressions. Great, she thought. It was her dad’s holiday cocktail party.
Her dad’s holiday parties weren’t really her scene. It was always a mix of the same groups: the Money (usually men in dark blue three-piece suits), the Models (stick-thin, bobble-headed women with sharp, alien-like features and long, slick ponytails), and the Media (more average-looking men and women in fancy clothes and bad haircuts, staring with envy at the Money and the Models). She’d walked around these things before, usually with a glass of eggnog and either Lizzie or Hudson in tow, but tonight it was the last thing she felt like doing. She was almost at the stairs when she heard a woman shriek with amped-up laughter. She looked over and there was her father in the middle of a crowd of people. He stopped talking when he saw her.
“Carina? Are you okay?” He walked toward her, stopped short, and took in her disheveled appearance. “You’re soaked.”
“I got caught in the snow,” she said.
“Come with me,” he said sternly. “We need to get you dried off.” He put his hands on her shoulders and steered her to the kitchen.
“Dad, this isn’t ER or anything, I’m fine,” she said.
“You look like something out of a Dickens novel,” he muttered. “Come on.”
The shrieking woman, who had small eyes and a blond pageboy, pulled him aside. “Karl, about the Vanity Fair piece, I think the best thing to do is speak to Graydon directly—”
“Be right back, Elise,” he said gruffly, and kept going. Carina made a mental note. She’d never seen him blow off one of his party guests like that before. Especially for her.
When they walked into the kitchen, white-suited cater waiters were moving gracefully around the room, refilling their trays.
“Marco?” her dad yelled out. “Can we get some towels here, and some hot chicken soup?” He helped her off with her coat and her gloves, pulled off a bunch of paper towels, and dried her hair. “Here, sit down,” he said, leading her to the kitchen table. “And Marco? That soup? We’re waiting!”
Marco ran over with a steaming bowl of chicken noodle soup and a stack of towels. Where he’d gotten it so quickly, she had no idea.
“Did something happen to you today?” he asked, taking a towel to her hair as she wiped her nose with a napkin.
“No, I’m fine,” she said, picking up her spoon. She sneezed loudly.
“Did something happen at school?” he asked. “You get in a fight with someone?”
“No.” She sneezed again. “Well… yeah. Maybe.”
“What happened?” He finished drying her hair and covered her hand with his own.
Suddenly she felt tears come to her eyes. It was the first nice thing anyone had done for her all day. And the fact that it was coming from him, the last person on earth she expected to be nice to her, was overwhelming.
“Carina?” he asked, even more gently. “What happened today?”
The inside of her throat burned, and she felt that tingling in the tip of her nose. But she refused to cry in front of him. Just out of habit.
“I got fired,” she said.
“Fired?” he repeated. “From what?”
“Remember how I said I was planning that party? The Silver Snowflake Ball?”
Her dad nodded.
“Well, I got in a fight with the girl in charge. Ava Elting. And she fired me.”
“Why?” he asked. “On what grounds?”
“Misrepresentation of services, I guess.”
Her father let her go and tilted his chair so that he faced her. “Okay, tell me everything. Just start from the beginning.”
Carina wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “Well, it all started with this guy,” she said, cringing a little. She’d never talked about her love life with her dad. But there was no way around it now. “This guy, Carter McLean. He asked me to go on this snowboarding trip with him and some friends, to the Alps.”
“The Alps?” her dad repeated.
“Yeah, his uncle has a place there. And I said I would go.”
“You did, huh?” he said wryly.
“Anyway, it was free except for the airfare and the lift ticket and food,” she went on. “Which I figured would cost about a thousand dollars.” She put her hands in her lap and took a deep breath. “Which, obviously, I don’t have.”
“Yes,” he said, more seriously.
“So I decided to get a job, but I couldn’t find one, and then this girl, Ava, said she needed a party planner, someone to take care of all the details for this Christmas ball that’s ultrafancy and totally a big deal and all that. And I said I could do it. And she really wanted me to do it.”
“Why did she want you to do it when you don’t have any experience with party planning?” he asked.
“Because…” She sighed. “Because I’m your daughter. And she figured that I could get her Matty Banks and Filippo Mucci and the fanciest flowers. And I let her think that. But she wanted me to get them for free. As favors. But nobody wanted to do me a favor. Everybody wants to get paid.”
Her father gave a rueful smile. “Yes, they do.”
“So, I had to kind of… improvise.” She gulped. “I found this guy who’s an incredible DJ, but he’s my age and just starting out. And this guy’s sister was going to do the table decorations. And then I got these awesome appetizers from Trader Joe’s—that she loved. And I was going to bake the cupcakes myself. I was going to do the whole thing for practically nothing.”
“But you didn’t tell this girl that,” he prompted.
“No. I couldn’t. She wouldn’t have gone for it. Not at all. She wants this party to be in the Style section.”
Her father frowned slightly. “So she found out?”
She nodded. “Yeah. And she fired me.”
“But how could she fire you? This wasn’t a real job.”
She hung her head and picked at her napkin. “She was going to pay me a thousand dollars.”
“A thousand dollars?” he said in disbelief.
“So I could go on this stupid trip. Dad, I did the work,” she argued. “I planned the party. I did everything she asked me to. I just didn’t want to tell her that I had to ‘slum it.’ To use her words.”
“First of all, you didn’t slum it. But why couldn’t you just be honest with her?”
Carina shredded the napkin between her fingers. “Because if I told her that I couldn’t get these people, she would have expected me to ask you to do it for me. And I wasn’t going to do that. Not with, you know, what’s been going on,” she said delicately. “So it was easier to just pretend I could do it. People expect me to be a certain way. They think of me a certain way. You know that. That’s why you wanted me to do that interview, remember?”
The Jurg rubbed his chin and looked away.
“I’m not gonna tell this girl that I’m walking around with a cell phone from ten years ago. Well, I finally did, actually,” she pointed out. “But I’m fine with it. I really am. I’ve changed. I’m a different person now. But I just couldn’t be that different person in front of people yet.”
She sniffled one last time and nudged at some noodles and carrots with her spoon. “Sometimes the way people see you is the way you see yourself,” she said.
Her dad stayed quiet beside her. She thought she could feel his disappointment getting stronger every second.
“I’m proud of you,” he said at last. “You have changed. You have.” He squeezed her shoulder. “Now let’s just fix some of this mess.” He reached int
o his jacket and pulled out his BlackBerry Pearl. “Who did you say she wanted? Matty and who else?”
She put her hand on his arm. “Dad, don’t. It’s too late anyway.”
He put the BlackBerry to his ear. “I’m sure Matty’d be happy to do it. What was the date again?”
Carina yanked his hand down. “Dad, stop.”
Slowly, he put his hand down and hung up.
“It’s done,” she said. “I messed things up. And now I have to live with it.”
“Carina, I’m just trying to help you,” her father said.
“No, you can’t,” she said. “This is my problem. Not yours. And not even you can swoop in and save people every time.”
She pushed her chair away and stood up. She was so tired. She really needed to lie down. And her head was starting to get woozy.
“Well, what happened with that guy?” he asked.
“Which guy?” she asked.
“That Carter fellow.”
“Oh. Nothing,” she said. “That’s totally over. And for the future… can we just pretend I never told you about him? Or any guy?”
Her dad nodded. “Fine with me. Now go get some rest.” He stood up, and for a moment she thought they might actually hug, but instead they walked to the door.
When she got up to her room, she collapsed on her bed and pressed her face into the pillow. Her head was pounding and her forehead felt hot. She could feel herself starting to get sick. Really sick. But as she drifted off, something inside of her knew that from now on, she was going to be okay.
chapter 29
B-rrring!
At the sound of the bell, Carina put down her pen and pushed her blue book away. The world history final had been easier than she’d expected, but it was still a relief for exams to be over. Now she just had to get through one more day of school until Christmas break began. She couldn’t wait. Ever since the day of the snowstorm, she felt like she’d been trapped in a bad dream. Two weeks in total winter break seclusion was just what she needed.
Her pounding headache and fever the night of her dad’s holiday party blossomed into a flu the next morning, and for five days she lay in bed, stuffed up and miserable and watching Oprah. In a rare display of parental concern, her dad came and sat by her bed, and even took her temperature a couple of times. Hudson visited her almost every day, bringing Carina’s favorite s’mores-flavored Luna Bars and even some vanilla cupcakes with chocolate icing from Magnolia Bakery. Thankfully, she seemed to have forgiven Carina for putting her on the spot with Ava.
But Lizzie stayed away. She just sent get-well texts and e-mails. Their fight that last day in class had left its mark, and Carina knew that she’d have to smooth things over with her in person as soon as possible.
And, of course, there was no word from Alex. She’d finally broken down and called him—twice—but her voice mails had gone unanswered. It was clear that he hated her guts.
And he wasn’t the only one. When she returned to school for the start of finals, the Icks were the first people she saw, standing in a vicious cluster near the bulletin board in the Upper School hall. The hate vibes that they beamed in her direction could have felled a large animal. Every morning in the lounge before exams, Ava iced her completely, keeping her back to her as she studied. Carina wondered how the party was coming along but didn’t dare ask. She still had no idea how to pay Ava back and figured the better move was just to stay away. But something told her that the party was in trouble. Ava had been so incredibly clueless about how to do anything practical. She couldn’t imagine that she’d gotten everything together on such short notice. But then again, Carina told herself, why did she care if Ava failed? She was a snob and a jerk. Maybe a completely screwed-up event was what Ava deserved.
She stood up, stretched, and dropped her blue book off on Mr. Weatherley’s desk before following the stream of people into the hall. Carter McLean sailed right past her, not meeting her eyes, for the third time that week. She wasn’t sure, but she could only assume that Ava had shared the “gory details” about her personal life with everyone in the school. She didn’t even care. If people wanted to treat her like a pariah, then that was their problem.
Down the hall, she saw Lizzie and Hudson walking with Todd. She felt a stab of loneliness. How had things gotten this weird between all of them? All week she’d felt like it was two against one. She needed to finally get up the guts to go to Lizzie, pull her aside, and somehow repair things. She was just about to talk to them when Hudson craned her head around, waved at her, and fell out of step to come walk by her side.
“Hey, can I talk to you?” Hudson asked breathlessly. Even during this past week of finals, Hudson had managed to look polished and put together, but today she had dark circles under her eyes and she was dressed in hole-ridden jeans and a simple black sweater. She pulled Carina against the wall, out of the stream of people. “So I did my rehearsal last night for the dance, and they are in trouble.”
“What do you mean?”
“Ava had to dump everything on the charity people at the last minute, and they have no clue what they’re doing,” Hudson said, rolling her sea green eyes and shaking her head. “There’s no food, no decorations, and the DJ’s probably the lamest person on earth. I saw his playlist lying around on the stage. The first song’s ‘Sweet Caroline.’ ”
“Yikes,” she said, feeling a tiny bit gleeful about that last part.
“So. You have to do something. You have to fix this.”
“Me?” she sputtered. “I got fired, remember? And if I get one more deathstare from Ava’s minions, I’m going to keel over from hate vibes.”
Hudson tugged Carina closer. “Once people see what a disaster this is, they’re all gonna leave, and I don’t want my debut to be to an empty room, okay? I’m stressed out about this enough as it is.”
From the wild look in her eye, and the color in her cheeks, Carina believed her.
“I totally would, but Ava wants me to pay her back, and I can’t. Plus, she didn’t like any of the things I was gonna do anyway. Why would she this time around?”
“Just get that DJ back,” Hudson pressed. “She’ll be thrilled to get him after the guy they got. Believe me.”
“He’s not speaking to me,” she admitted.
Hudson folded her arms and gave Carina a long, thoughtful look. “Then this gives you the perfect reason to make up with him. Just try, C. We need you.”
Carina thought about this. Maybe Hudson was right. Carina had almost certainly blown any chance of a romance between them, but she couldn’t stand to think that someone out there as cool as Alex Suarez disliked her so much. At least if she went to see him today, and apologized up and down, and pleaded with him to do the dance, then she would have done everything she could to get him to see that she wasn’t a terrible human being. Hopefully.
“C? You still with me?” Hudson asked, twisting a strand of black hair between her fingers.
“Fine,” she sighed. “I’ll do it. But if it’s terrible and he hates me and I completely humiliate myself, it’s all your fault.”
“No, then we’ll be even for you forcing me to do this show,” Hudson said. “Oh, come on. You’re Carina. He’s gonna flip when you walk in that door.”
“Thanks, H,” she said, giving her friend a hug. Carina highly doubted that Hudson was right, but it felt nice to hear it anyway.
They reached the stairs and saw Ava, dressed in her final exam outfit of leather pants and cashmere sweater coat, chatting with Ken Clayman and Eli Blackman. Hudson nudged her forward.
“Just go talk to her now,” she whispered. “Come on. Get it over with.”
“What am I supposed to say again?” Carina asked.
“That you can fix things,” Hudson said. “Come on, C. You can do this.”
Carina wasn’t sure anymore what she could do, but the old part of her—the part that could never resist a dare—flared up again. With a toss of her shoulder-length hair, she sauntered over to
Ava and her crew.
“Hey, Ava, can I talk to you for a sec?”
Ava turned around and studied her with extreme distaste, as if she were a life-size roach. “Yeah?” she asked.
“I just wanted to ask how the dance is going.”
Ava stepped away from the guys. “Great,” she chirped, showing her bright white teeth. “We’re all set for tomorrow night. It’s gonna be awesome.” She cleared her throat. “Just awesome.”
Carina wasn’t sure, but the way she repeated this sounded more like she was trying to convince herself.
“Cool,” Carina said. “Well, I just wanted to say how sorry I am that everything worked out the way it did.”
Ava stared at her, fingering her diamond A. “Me too,” she said sulkily.
“And I’m sure you already have everything set, but if I can get that DJ to play for you guys tomorrow night, I’d be happy to do it,” she went on. “He really is very talented. And I’d hate for you guys to miss out on him.”
Ava was quiet for a few moments as she turned the A backward and forward in her hand. “Do you think you could get him?” she finally asked.
“I think so. I know he was really into playing the event.”
Ava flicked a wayward curl off her face. “Well, we already have someone amazing,” she said haughtily, “but it would be interesting to know if he was still available. Just so we have some options. That’s all.”
Yep, she’s really desperate, Carina thought.
“No problem,” Carina said. “And how are you guys doing on decorations? And food?”
Ava looked down and swallowed. “We’re okay,” she muttered. “Where’d you get that food again?”
“How about this?” Carina asked. “What if I just pick up where I left off and finish the job? The food, the music, the decorations. I really want this event to be as cool as it was supposed to be. And obviously you won’t have to pay me a cent.”