Jet Set (11 page)

I
was reeling, chest throbbing, head aching, and brow perspiring. I walked as fast as I could to the only ally I knew I had: Antony. I rang his room, but he wasn't there. I even meandered to the guy domain of soccer (“football”) in the Entertainment Center in the common room, which was complete with upholstered couches, a snack bar, and a pool table. No Antony.

Some cricketeers walked in, and though I barely knew Moabi LeTroux, I decided to ask him if he by chance knew where Antony was.

“Antony? Oh, I think I saw Antony at the Cove.”

“Where's that?” I asked.

Moabi and his friends laughed. “Love, I'll have to take you there sometime.” He winked. What did that mean?
Ugh!
I exited the dorm in frustration and looked for him on the rugby field. No Antony. I ran up by the school store and main campus hall. The science lab center. The library. No Antony. I felt adrift. Alone. And exhausted. I didn't know where to go so I just wandered where my weary feet took me.

I found a small path that led to Lamoneaux, the tiny town adjacent to the campus; it was covered with winding stone streets, high on charm but low on “action,” so not many of my schoolmates seemed to venture there. Sofia had once dubbed it full of “townies,” remarking that nary a Van Peltian hangs there since it is full of “bitter, jealous locals” who resented the exorbitant wealth of the students, adding to “town versus gown” tensions.

But in the wind-whipping cold of late October, I felt comfort in the tiny, homey alleyways. I looked up at the picturesque brick houses and felt a bit homesick, thinking of the families in the district as they started to prepare the evening's dinner. As I wandered down a stone-covered slope that led to the lake, I heard some music coming from a tiny tavern with a wrought-iron sign that looked like it had been there for centuries. It was called Le Ciel, which meant “the sky,” and I immediately knew why the proprietors had chosen this moniker: past the cozy main room with its wood-beamed ceiling and rustic lumber tables and floor, there
was an outdoor porch overlooking the glistening water, and tons and tons of sky. It was breathtaking.

The quaint, rustic vibe soothed my tired bones and heart, and I was elated to see a table calling my name right in the center of the perfectly perched balcony. As I sat down and exhaled, I was stunned to see none other than Oliver at the corner table, alone with a textbook.

“Oliver!”
I exclaimed,
so
happy to see a friendly face after an hour of solitary wandering.

“Hi there!” He smiled, making room for me as I impulsively headed over. “Lucy, what a surprise! I am so happy to see you.”

“Me too.”

“Listen, I feel…awful about intruding in your life earlier regarding Antony. It's truly none of my business, and—”

“Oliver, do not worry. You were concerned. That's what friends are for.” I put my hand on his arm reassuringly.

He smiled and put his hand over mine. “Great, then.”

“So, Oliver, I don't mean this in a cheesy-pickup-line way, but…come here often?”

He laughed. “Sometimes, Lucy, I feel like this is one of the few places around here that has a real soul to it.”

“Well, I just got here, but that's my feeling exactly. I didn't even know it was here! It is so adorable, and charm is bursting from every little cobblestone and lantern!” I said, studying the half-crowded room of smiling, merry people.

“Well, some of our schoolmates don't exactly like to venture
off their golden grids,” he remarked with a half eye roll. “It's not exactly a velvet booth at Club Platinum with bottle service. If it's not somewhere on the jet-set circuit, they won't have it.”

“I've noticed.”

I was trying to reconcile his down-to-earth comment with Antony's version of Oliver. The two seemed like jigsaw puzzle pieces that didn't fit.

“Yeah, everyone is always concerned with the new hot place or club, or this ‘in' spot. But this is old and weathered and real to me. And I've been coming here for two years, and literally not one other Van Peltian has darkened the doorway!”

“Well, it's their loss, then. I feel like this is the first mellow, laid-back air I've breathed since school started for me,” I confessed.

“So how
do
you like school so far? I know it's kind of a unique place.”

“
Unique
, yeah…that's one way to put it,” I said, smiling.

“Do you not like it, then?”

“No, no, I do, it's just that…you know, the whole ‘scene' isn't my whole thing.”

“I have a secret for you,” he said, leaning in conspiratorially. I was intrigued. “Mine neither.”

I smiled, not really surprised. He seemed so laid-back, but then again he was royalty. I mean, he
was
the scene! Or at least the one everyone wanted to cavort with. “Really?” I asked. “'Cause it seems like the whole social world revolves around,
you know, you and your gang.”

“Do I have a gang?” he asked, amused. “Should I be wary of a drive-by shooting?”

“No.” I laughed, realizing how silly I sounded. “I just mean your whole family and friends; you're wired. There's a network here. And I'm one of the small satellites not plugged in.”

“I don't see that. You're just new, that's all. And if the catty social butterflies make you feel that way, well, then you make your own ‘gang.'”

“I don't know, it's not as easy as it sounds….”

“Lucy, now it's my turn to be ‘cheesy': don't think these people are so great just because they have so-called glamorous lives. A lot of them are spoiled and boring. You, at least, have character.”

I was just about to get a buzz from the flattery of his sincere and touching compliment when an acidic pit crept into my stomach. Was it good “character” to be the coconspirator in Sofia's crimes? A scholarship outsider who tried to spy into the lives of the rich and fabulous? What would Oliver think of me if he knew I was a semi-liaison to the coarse magazine that tracked his every move? I prayed he would never ever find out.

“I have an idea,” Oliver offered, snapping me out of my reverie. “How about we share some fondue? Dominique, the owner, makes a killer pot. It might be a bullet to the heart, but it's almost worth it.”

“I'm in,” I said happily.

A
fter our third shared bottle of Coca-Cola to wash down the indeed incredible fondue and toasted baguette, Oliver and I wandered back up the hill, out of Lamoneaux toward the campus. As we saw the imposing Gothic skyline of the school, a gust of icy wind enveloped us.

“I think that was the first kiss of winter,” I said, shivering. “All the warmth of that delicious fondue just froze in my veins.”

“Take this,” said Oliver, whipping off his brown corduroy jacket and putting it over my shoulders before I could protest.

Could this guy really be a snob? He didn't know I was an army brat on a full ride to VP, but something about him made me think he truly wouldn't care.

As we walked in silence toward the dorms, the knot in my tummy grew with every pace.

“So, I quite enjoyed our little mini-marathon the other day. If you ever want to hit that track, I'm in. And you are one speed demon! I have to work my arse off to keep up with you!” he said.

“Yeah, right. I was keeping up with
you
,” I corrected teasingly. “But yes, I'd love to be running buddies.”

He stopped and smiled.

“Running buddies it is, then. Tomorrow morning at seven?”

“Done.”

 

I nervously entered the dorm and ran straight to my room, luckily avoiding all contact with Sofia or anyone else, for that matter. It was dusk and I checked my email to see if Antony had written me; after my time with Oliver I realized I hadn't thought about him in a while and was feeling a bit guilty. Nada in my email box. I called his room.

“Hey there, lovely lady, I'm so sorry I missed you earlier. I was in the library,” he said.

“Oh, that's weird. I went there looking for you. I must not have seen you.”

“We're ships in the night. That's okay, I know you like to play hard to get. That's why I'm lucky to just hear your voice!”

“Oh, please,” I said. “What are you doing?”

“I'm so knackered I was going to have dinner here with room service. But maybe we could meet later? I miss you, you know.”

I miss you? Wow. No one had ever said that to me. I didn't even know if my mom said that to me when we talked. I was flattered, but also worried about all the homework that I had been ignoring in favor of tennis.

“I really, really want to see you but have to study. I haven't cracked a book all day.”

“All right, then. I'll see you tomorrow. Sweet reading. And sweet dreams.”

Ahhh, Antony!

I was happy to have touched base with him—just his confident tone set my mind at ease in that moment.

But still, in my princess bed with a majestic view of the burning pink setting sun, I was worried about what revenge Sofia had in store for me. That I had tried to delete the file clearly enraged her, but maybe she would come to her senses and get past it. I just had to keep my distance until it all blew over.

 

The next morning, when I reached the track, Oliver was stretching, waiting for me.

“I think you called it last evening, Lucy. It's definitely getting colder.”

“Well, let's warm up and work off that cheese festival I taped to my ass,” I lamented.

“Please do not tell me you're one of those girls fretting about their weight all the time.”

“No!”
Yes
. Who didn't?

“Good. 'Cause that is so ridiculous to me! Especially when a girl looks great.” Hmm, did that mean he thought I looked great? Interesting.

He bolted off before me and I sprinted to catch up. We had a lovely, though chilly, hour of sunrise running. Our matching pace let me know our minds were also in sync and that I had a friend.

 

The serene comfort I got from running with Oliver flew out the window when I entered my dorm and found Sofia standing at my door. She followed me into my room.

“So, how's your running pal, you little tramp? What happened to Antony?”

Her words were like daggers made of ice. Dipped in acid.

“Sofia, listen, Oliver and I are just friends—”

“Of course you are—it's not like he'd
ever
be into you! I know it's a tennis thing, but just seeing you try is so pathetic!”

“Sofia, why are you so mad? Does this have to do with the video?”

“Do you really think he'd ever go for you? You're a nobody. A scholarship army brat,
nobody
.”

Ouch.

“Sofia, what happened to ‘My lips are sealed'?”

“Promises, shmomises! First you try to sabotage my files and now you're trying to social-climb the very people we had been trying to bust? Out for yourself now, aren't you? After all the time I
put in showing you around, this is what I get in return? You mess with me and go off with the royals now.”

“I'm not—I just—” My face reddened.

“You're a little bitch, Lucy, and I've got a CNN World News flash for you: you screwed with the wroooong girl when you tried to screw with my computer files. That was cold hard cash you almost deleted.”

“Sofia, I—”

“There's nothing you can say to get out of this one. No tennis ball you can lob away your problems with. You're
over
, Wimbledon. You messed with me, and now you're toast.”

Before slamming my door, she turned back to utter three short but deadly words. “This. Is. War.”

T
he next few days were the worst in my life. I think I lost five pounds. Normally I would have been thrilled that now I had five pounds' worth of food I could eat (sweets preferably) in order to gain it back, but I had no appetite at all. I had never felt this level of acute, gut-churning stress. Initially I was anxious that Sofia would tell everyone about our prank. And then I was stressed about what tricks she would pull on me. And then I just became paranoid about everything. It was “Does that girl know?” or “Did that guy just look at me
funny?” every time I walked down the hall.

The most horrible part was that I couldn't confess. I didn't want to tell anyone about the stuff we had done to the Diamonds because I was embarrassed, as well as worried that they would throw me out of school. I was also incredibly angry at myself for being so stupid! How could I have been involved in wiring another student's room so that a gossip magazine could get dirt on them? No matter how I played it, it was wrong. I was miserable. I knew if I called my sister, she would read me the riot act and tell my parents, who would have coronaries that their little angelic scholar-athlete had turned demonic. If I told Antony, I was sure he would think I was an evil brat who would go all
Fatal Attraction
on him if he crossed me. He wouldn't be able to get away fast enough. I was too ashamed to tell Oliver, though he seemed like he would offer good advice. And when I realized I had no one else to tell, I was depressed on top of scared. It was hopeless.

I had taken to darting around school. Rushing to class, rushing to practice, taking my meals in my room, and doing everything to minimize contact with anyone. I hadn't seen Sofia, and I felt both relief and fear. Was she locked up in her room plotting something? I was going insane! And to make things even worse, I could tell that Antony knew I was behaving oddly, but what could I do? After one really bad phone call, where he spent ten minutes trying to convince me to go to the pub with him and I spent that time pretending that I reeeeeally had to study for a test that I had
in two weeks
, I hung up the phone feeling defeated. How could I get out of this?

I was sitting in my room one day lamenting the situation, when suddenly there was a
ping
on my computer. I had an email. Phew. It was a message from Friend.

She noticed! It must be Rioko: I had just seen her in the hall that morning and she had given me a sympathetic nod. I felt like she was on my side. But could I trust her?

I pressed Send and waited. I sort of hoped that there would be an immediate knock at my door and Rioko would give me a hug and ask me what's up. Then I would download it all to her and she would come up with a great solution, and it would all be over and I could eat and sleep again.

I quickly responded, with elevating desperation.

I pressed Send and waited. Out the window, I could see Victoria and Antigone clutching mugs of latte on the patio and laughing over something. If only I could be that carefree.

I thought about what Friend had written. It would be horrible to confess. I was sure the Diamonds would go to the head of the school. And what would I say? Yes, I was the lookout when Sofia wired their rooms. They would expel me for sure. But what if I took down the wires? That would be the first move to make it better. I could at least undo some of the damage. I'd have to think about a good reason for confession. At present, I saw no reason for them to forgive me. If only I had something that they wanted. Or could help them in some way. Tennis lessons anyone?

 

No, it still seemed hopeless.

I quickly sent my response.

Ah, yes, Friend. I knew what I had to do. But was I brave enough?