Secrets of the Sisterhood (The Cinderella Society, Episode 1) (7 page)

As rites of passage go, it was pretty anticlimactic. No one showered me with confetti or asked for my autograph. No one knew there was anything different about me at all, save the fact that I’d shown up with Sarah Jane Peterson, resident It girl. The rest was status quo.

Which, if I’m being honest, was kind of a letdown. Would a little celebration have killed anyone?

“When do we get started?” I asked Sarah Jane as we waited in line. The nerves and anticipation combined to make me sound more like a six-year-old at Christmas than a sixteen-year-old Cinderella, but I couldn’t help it. Ever since Sarah Jane had given me the scoop on our secret society and its ultimate life makeovers, visions of fairy godmothers had filled my head.

As far as I was concerned, we could skip lunch and hit the mall on empty stomachs. A new wardrobe was first on my makeover agenda, with shimmery amber highlights a close second.

“Let’s get our drinks first,” Sarah Jane murmured, turning toward the counter. “Hi, Audrey. I’ll have a tall mocha latte.”

“Hey, SJ. Coming right up.”
 

Audrey London moved with the kind of grace you’d imagine from a top model, though you’d expect to see it on a catwalk instead of behind the counter of an upscale café that was giving Starbucks a run for its money.
 

I started to ask, “Do you guys hang out here a lot?” but closed my mouth. Because, hello? Audrey London had called Sarah Jane by
name
.
 

I know! A two-time
Sports Illustrated
cover model who reportedly dated Matthew McConaughey (Sarah Jane says that’s just a rumor) and now owned a chain of super trendy coffee shops chatted with Sarah Jane like they were old friends.

The Grind in Mt. Sterling was Audrey’s first location and, since becoming a franchising phenom, her home base. The public part of the Grind was now just a small section in the front corner of the massive building she’d built behind it to house her headquarters.

I’d read an article where she’d talked about her best friend being some big professor at Montgomery University where they’d been college roommates. That was less than twenty minutes from the Grind. But still, settling in a small town like Mt. Sterling instead of kicking it in New York or Milan or her native Sydney?
 

Naturally, I thought that was mental. But then, I’d never had a best friend, so what did I know?

Audrey liked to stay visible, so it wasn’t unusual to see her behind the counter talking to customers. Which was part of what made the Grind
the
see-and-be-seen place for the entire MSH student body.

But when she asked about Sarah Jane’s boyfriend by name
and
how she did on her French final, my celeb-o-meter went on overload. I suffer from one of the worst cases of celebrity fright. I’m as much of a watcher as the next girl, but to actually be in the presence of one? Totally different story.

I got tongue-tied when it was my turn. After stuttering out my order, I played mute and listened to Sarah Jane finish her story as a counter guy handed Sarah Jane’s latte to Audrey. Aside from making the best pumpkin muffin tops in the world—according to
Seventeen
magazine—one of the Grind’s claims to fame was the picture they sprinkled on the tops of their to-die-for drinks. They held a cool shaker thing over the cup, gave it a quick tap, and you had a perfect image on the top of your designer coffee. I’d gotten everything from a butterfly to a megaphone to a heart on mine.

Audrey picked up a purple shaker I hadn’t noticed before and gave Sarah Jane’s coffee a topper. My extra-tall caramel latte came up next, and Audrey picked up the bright pink shaker I recognized as the dragonfly. She paused with the shaker in her hand and looked at Sarah Jane. “She’s with you?”

“This is Jess Parker,” Sarah Jane said. “We’re hanging out today.”

Audrey extended her free hand across the counter to shake mine. “Nice to meet you, Jess. I’ve seen you in here with Rosemary.”

Whoa. She even knew Nan’s name. “Hi, Miss London. It’s nice to meet you.” And I only stuttered once.
M-meet you.

“Call me Audrey. We’re among friends, right?”

I nodded uncertainly, struck mute by my celeb fright, while Audrey switched shakers and popped a quick picture from the purple one. She snapped on a clear lid and handed me the cup as I pulled out my money.

Audrey shook her head. “It’s on the house. Welcome to town, Jess Parker.”

I thanked her profusely, still amazed that she’d said my name not once, but twice. As I looked down at my free latte, I saw a picture I hadn’t gotten before. It was starting to disintegrate into the steamy mixture, but it looked distinctly like a shoe. A high heel, to be exact. Like a . . .

“No way,” I whispered.

“Way,” Sarah Jane whispered back, as Audrey gave me a wink before turning to help the next person in line.

A lump formed in my throat. One moonlight initiation and I was already rubbing elbows with the rich and famous. I watched as the picture dissolved away into nothing. But my first glimpse at how the other half lived was imprinted on my brain. Fame, fortune, and a latte topper in the shape of a glass slipper.
 

I hoped the clock would never strike midnight.

We grabbed a booth along the front as some girls I recognized from gym were leaving. Audrey came over with a cute red bistro towel and did a quick wipe of the table. She slowed her last swipe and lowered her voice. “Rumor has it there were fourteen at the Range last night.”

Sarah Jane’s eyes widened. “Fourteen?”

“Fourteen what?” I asked, forgetting I was the tagalong.

“People.” Sarah Jane glanced at Audrey. “They doubled?”

Audrey nodded, finishing the wipe-down with a flourish. “Strength in numbers, honey,” she said before moving back to the counter.

Sarah Jane sat motionless, still in shock over the number fourteen. Kyra and Mel came in, and Sarah Jane waved them over. Kyra motioned toward the counter first, and she and Mel went to grab drinks of their own.

By the time they got to our table, Kyra’s expression matched Sarah Jane’s.

“Fourteen?” she asked Sarah Jane quietly. “How did we miss that?”

Sarah Jane shook her head. “I don’t know, but we’ll have to pass it along.”

I was about to ask, “Fourteen what?” again, figuring Sarah Jane would realize it was rude to keep talking in cryptics, when two hunky seniors arrived on the scene. Mark Evans and Ben Harper came strolling in, looking divine in polos and cargo shorts. Just like that, the atmosphere went from gloom and doom to razzle dazzle.

The guys pulled up chairs next to their respective girlfriends, Mark by Sarah Jane and Ben by Kyra. Sarah Jane made introductions for Mel and me, and the conversation shifted to finals-week war stories. Until Ben looked over at the door and yelled, “Steele!”

We all turned, and there in the flesh—the very
fine
flesh—was Captain Yumtastic himself. Ryan lifted his chin in greeting and headed our way. The guys exchanged a fancy testosterone handshake before turning to the girls. My heart stopped as I saw recognition dawn on his face.

“So you made it?” A smile lit his eyes. “I thought that might be the last we saw of Jess Parker.”

“Yeah,” I said, trying to think of a witty comeback. Instead, all I could think was how he actually knew my full name and how white his teeth were up close, so nothing else came out. Just “yeah.”
 

He turned his attention back to the rest of the group and joined in the conversation about the party at Nick Case’s last night. I refrained from kicking myself under the table.

I tried to look casual and cool, but there was no escaping reality. For someone who was totally at ease with adults—thanks to years of working with them on volunteer stuff—I was pretty awkward with people my own age. Especially guys. I might be a Sister, but I had miles to go before I’d ever blend with Sarah Jane’s crowd.

When the guys finally stood to go, Mark gave Sarah Jane a peck on the cheek. “What’s your plan today?”

“Hanging out with the girls,” she said. “Maybe working on some cheers.”

What?!
Noooo!
Sarah Jane had promised we’d spend the afternoon working on my ultimate life makeover stuff, not test-drive new material for . . .

Oh.

So
discretion
meant no boyfriends either. Interesting.

Ben gave Kyra a quick kiss—earning both couples brownie points for low-key PDAs—and the guys headed toward the door. It wasn’t until Sarah Jane stifled a laugh that I realized I was wearing the most blatant puppy-dog expression.

“Ryan?” she asked.

My face went from pasty to scarlet in two seconds flat. “I didn’t know he’d be here.”

“They travel in herds, but that’s a story for another day.” She looked around the table, a glint in her eye. “Right now, we’ve got work to do.”

Chapter Nine

When you’re about to enter the mysterious world of a secret society, back toward the café bathrooms and through the employee entrance probably isn’t the first place you’d expect to go.

Sarah Jane paused to make a call from the pay phone in the employee hall, but she didn’t actually talk to anyone, as far as I could tell. She swiped a credit card-looking thing and punched in some numbers before we heard a buzz and click from the door marked management only. We followed her through that door into another hallway . . . and another . . . burrowing deeper into the heart of the building. the Grind must’ve been built around a maze.

I wondered if I should leave a trail of bread crumbs. Which made me hungry, since between Audrey’s presence, the number fourteen, and three very distracting hotties, we’d forgotten to order lunch.

We finally stopped in front of a door with a keypad and waited while Sarah Jane punched in more numbers. The butterflies were back at work in my chest, tapping out Morse code for
Are you sure you’re ready for this? There’s still time to escape!

Sarah Jane pushed open the door and held it wide as Kyra and Mel stepped inside. I followed suit, stepping into the secret hideaway of The Cinderella Society.

The ritzy setup looked like a huge, posh boardroom. But instead of catering to corporate-y types in suits, it was just the four of us and Gaby, who was busy laying binders around the giant table.

Warm, shiny wood and big, comfy rolling chairs in lush deep purple suede gave the room an expensive feel while still making the huge space feel homey. Homey or not, the fears from the night before crept in, reminding me I was out of my league. I laid my hand on top of a chair, nervously stroking the soft leather.
 

“Faux, of course.” Sarah Jane said. “Soft and animal-friendly.”

Vanilla candles burned on a crystal platter down the center of the table, and ornately framed pictures lined the walls. The walls themselves were a soft shade of lavender gray and, upon closer inspection, were covered with photographs of celebrities: classy actresses and pro athletes and Grammy winners. Exactly the kind of women you’d expect The Cinderella Society would consider role models. All positive, all powerful, all dazzling.

Yep. Light years out of my league. A different galaxy even.

I stepped closer to peer at a collection of silver-framed group photos near the door, some of which included Sarah Jane or Kyra or Paige surrounded by other girls. Everyone looked luminous and happy. With some framed Asian graphics for joy, wisdom, prosperity, and harmony, the room was a tribute to girl power.

Gaby waved us around the table, where thick binders awaited us. Sarah Jane led me over to one by her, and Kyra led Mel to another. I reached for the binder.

Sarah Jane stilled my wrist. “Gab?”

“Hang on,” Gaby said, still bustling around the room lighting candles, pulling supplies from shelves, and grabbing bowls for snacks. “We have to wait for everyone else.”

“No worries.” Sarah Jane leaned toward me. “This is Gaby’s first time as Alpha Chair. She’s gonna be great.”

“Alpha Chair?” I asked.

“Sit tight, J.” She looked up at Gaby, who was pouring trail mix into jewel-toned glass bowls. “Did Audrey tell you about the number spike?”

Gaby glanced up, losing her concentration and pouring trail mix on the table. “She has news already?”

“Fourteen,” Kyra said.

Gaby set the bag down with a thump. “That’s double.”

Sarah Jane, Kyra, and Gaby looked at one another, each mulling over the magic number fourteen, while Mel and I exchanged matching looks of cluelessness.

I cleared my throat. “What does fourteen mean?” I asked again, hoping Gaby would shed some light on the mystery. But she seemed as distracted by it as Sarah Jane and Kyra.

Gaby shook her head to clear it, bending to scoop up the trail mix mess. “I guess I’ll have to include that.” She steadied her hands on the table. “As Gwen would say,
Game on
.”

“Game on,” Sarah Jane agreed.

Chapter Ten

As the other girls from initiation began to arrive, Sarah Jane and Kyra retreated to a row of chairs against the wall behind us. When everyone was seated, Gaby moved to the head of the table and opened a large leather book with a lock on the side like a diary.