The Ashley Project (16 page)

“Don't be a tool, it's not that late,” said Ashley, sitting next to A. A. and giving her a friendly shove. “It's not even close to midnight.”

“What about giving each other makeovers?” Lauren asked frantically. “I just got a ton of new stuff from Sephora.” She lugged a train case full of cosmetics out of the bathroom and spilled it all over the duvet.

“Can I have this?” Ashley asked, plucking a Chanel lip gloss from the pile. She pocketed it without awaiting an answer.

Makeovers were so sixth grade. Poor Lauren, Lili thought. She had absolutely no idea how to throw the perfect sleepover party. Really, it was so easy.

“You guys, you know what we could do,” Lili said, knowing it was time to save the evening, since Ashley looked content to watch Lauren squirm and A. A. could barely keep her eyes open. She pulled out the Gregory Hall directory she kept in her bag. A. A. had nicked it from her brother's room last year, and they took turns hiding it for safekeeping. The front of the book was all faded and torn, and there were chai and water stains on some of the pages. It had survived many a sleepover party.

“What's that?” asked Lauren, as she stacked the board games back in the closet and several stuffed animals tumbled out and hit her in the face.

“You'll see,” Lili said, sitting next to Ashley on the
bed and riffling through the pages. She nudged Ashley. “Do you think we should start with . . .” She let the sentence trail off, since she knew Ashley knew what she was thinking. They had talked about it while Lauren was in the bathroom.

Ashley looked at Lauren and raised an eyebrow. “Yeah.”

“Whose phone are we using?” A. A. asked, rubbing her eyes and looking a lot more awake now that something interesting was happening. She pushed herself up on her elbows.

“Give it here,” said Ashley, taking the phone book out of Lili's hands. She always had to run the show. “Where's your phone?” she demanded.

Lauren hunted down the cordless and brought it over. The four of them huddled close to one another as Ashley continued to flip through the pages of the directory.

“Do you think he'll be home?” Lili asked, nervously twisting a lock of her hair. This was her favorite part of any sleepover, but it was the most nerve-wracking, too. She felt her stomach drop at what they were about to do. Even though she wasn't going to be the one doing the deed, she felt terrified for Lauren. It was scary to find out exactly how you rated.

“We can only hope,” Ashley said, leafing through the Rs—Ramsey, Reading, Reckler—until she found the one they were looking for.

“What's going on?” Lauren asked, trying to look over Ashley's shoulder.

“Should we tell her?” said Ashley.

“Tell me what?”

“Do it,” Lili urged. Put the poor girl out of her misery. Besides, they had to do it now before it got too late in the evening.

Ashley deposited the phone book in Lauren's lap. It was open to Billy Reddy's page. There was a photo of Billy, looking tousled and gorgeous, along with his address and phone number.

“What do you want me to do this with this?” Lauren asked.

“Billy Reddy's your friend, right?” asked Ashley. “You keep telling us how close you guys are.”

“Uh-huh.” Lauren fidgeted, and the color drained from her cheeks. Lili had the distinct feeling that Lauren's vaunted connection to Billy wasn't as strong as she kept implying.

“Okay, then. He should be able to accept a rank call from you,” Ashley said.

“What's a rank call?” asked Lauren, as A. A. punched in a series of numbers on the telephone.

“It's ringing!” Lili whispered, feeling so excited she wanted to puke.

“You're about to find out,” Ashley said, handing Lauren the phone. “Now, when he picks up the phone, this is what you say. . . .”

“HELLO?” A DEEP VOICE ASKED.

“Hey, is this Billy?” Lauren asked, keeping her voice as light and casual as she could possibly make it.

“Uh-huh.”

“Hey, it's Lauren. Um . . .” She stalled. Did they really expect her to do this? She looked at their expectant faces. Yes. They did. The Ashleys were hanging on every word. What if he had no idea who she was? Should she remind him? “I'm planning to come to your lacrosse game next week with some friends,” she said hurriedly, hoping it would jog his memory. “Dex says you guys just need one more game to make it to the play-offs.”

“Oh, yeah. Hey, Lauren. Good to hear from you. Does Dex need to talk to me or something?” Billy asked, sounding a little more awake.

“Ask him! Do it!” Ashley whispered fiercely, while Lili and A. A. looked like they were going to keel over with excitement.

Lauren gulped. She would have to do what they told her if she wanted to salvage this sleepover. So far, neither her ideas nor her mom's had been met with any level of enthusiasm—she hoped Trudy wouldn't notice that none of the board games had been opened. If she wanted the girls to like her—and after spending the day with them, she really wanted them to, even if she planned to . . . what did she plan to do again? She gripped the phone more tightly.

“No . . . no . . . this isn't about Dex. Um. Billy?”

“Still here,” replied Billy.

“Will you accept a rank call?” she asked, her stomach twisted in knots. She had no idea what she had just asked him and fully expected him to slam the phone down immediately.

But to her immense surprise, he only groaned. “Oh no, not one of these again.”

“I'm sorry,” she said, completely flabbergasted that
he even knew what she was talking about. “This was totally not my idea, trust me.” She saw Ashley's face falter and felt a little more empowered.

“No . . . no problem. I'll do it. I don't want you to get penalized. What do you want me to rank?”

“What do I want you to rank?” Lauren repeated, looking at the girls for help.

“Put him on speaker!” ordered Ashley. From the way the Ashleys suddenly exploded in a flurry of activity, it was obvious they hadn't thought Billy would play along either. “C'mon, we have to hear this!”

But Lauren waved her away, not wanting to share Billy with them just yet.
What do I do?
she mouthed, as Lili shoved a piece of paper toward her with a list of attributes written on it, while A. A. handed her a pen.

She looked down and began reading from it. “Um. Hair?”

“Nine,” he said.

She wrote “9” on the paper and noticed the reaction on the Ashleys' faces when she did so. Ashley looked like she'd just been stabbed in the heart.

“Smile?” she asked next, as it dawned on her that a “rank call” was like some sort of beauty contest, where a girl called a boy so that the boy could judge her on
a scale of one to ten in a number of categories. It was sick, twisted, and totally awesome. Billy seemed to take it really seriously, too. She could tell he was thinking through every category. Weighing her. Deciding how attractive she was and then putting a number on it. Her mother had always told her that beauty contests were horrible examples of patriarchal oppression and that true beauty came from within, but she didn't know the Ashleys.

“Smile? I'll have to give it a nine as well,” Billy said.

When she wrote down “9” for smile, Lili shook her so vigorously in congratulations that Lauren almost dropped the phone.

Lauren felt her confidence grow as she went down the list, including “personality,” “clothes,” and “intellect.” So far she was batting a decent average. “Last one,” she said. “Body?”

There was a moment of silence on the other end, and then “Six,” came the not-so-exciting reply.

“Oh.” That was her lowest score so far. She tried not to feel too insulted. “Okay, I guess that's it. Thanks, Billy. Good luck on your lacrosse game next week.” She hung up the phone, her palms still sweaty from the conversation.

“I can't believe Billy Reddy just ranked you!” A. A. crowed, grabbing the paper from Lauren's hand.

“You're so lucky!” said Lili, her cheeks bright red. “None of us has ever been ranked by Billy Reddy.”

“That's because he probably doesn't know who we are,” A. A. said mildly.

“A. A., shut up,” said Ashley. She took the paper and made a few quick calculations with her pen, her forehead scrunching in concentration. Lauren assumed it was because math was Ashley's worst subject.

“You averaged an eighty-eight, not a seventy-eight,” A. A. said, correcting her friend's addition as she looked over Ashley's shoulder. “Not bad for your first rank.”

“But he gave me a six for body?” said Lauren, twisting her mouth. “It's probably because I'm really flat, right?” She pulled on the collar of her T-shirt and looked down. Sadly, they hadn't grown in the last five minutes. Her mother had made her wear a training bra, although she wasn't sure exactly what the bra was training her chest to do. Grow?

“Do guys really like girls with bigger boobs?” mused Lili, who was similarly handicapped in that area. “My sisters said big boobs are a total nightmare, and it's so much better to be flat.”

“Keep telling yourself that, Lil, maybe one day you'll believe it,” Ashley teased, throwing a pillow at her.

“Okay, so what do I do now?” asked Lauren, finally feeling able to relax in their company. She'd pulled off her first rank call, with Billy Reddy, no less! Later she'd have to remember every aspect of their conversation so she could savor it all over again.

“You pass the phone to someone else, and they have to call a boy of your choosing,” Lili explained, plumping the pillow Ashley had thrown at her and stuffing it underneath her head.

“Who should I pass it to?”

“Anyone you want,” Ashley said, a bit impatiently.

“Pass it to A. A.,” suggested Lili.

Lauren obligingly passed the cordless and A. A. straightened up, took the pad and pencil, and affected a brisk, no-nonsense demeanor. “Who's the lucky victim?” she asked.

“Tri Fitzpatrick,” Ashley prodded, poking Lauren in the side.

“Okay. Tri Fitzpatrick,” Lauren obliged.

A. A. turned as pink as her tank top. “I can't ask Tri for a rank call! He's my friend,” she said, looking almost panicked.

“Which is why you should have him rank you,” Ashley said in a reasonable tone. “Don't you want to know what he really thinks?”

“NO!” A. A. shook her head.

“Too bad,” Ashley said. “You have to do it. You know what happens if you forfeit.” She smiled that evil Ashley Spencer smile that Lauren had seen directed her way a thousand times in the refectory, accompanied by mocking laughter.

“For the last time, Ashley, I am not going to streak a Gregory Hall lacrosse game if I forfeit a rank call. It's just not going to happen,” A. A. huffed.

“Whatever. Lame-o,” said Ashley, making a circling motion next to her head to indicate “crazy.”

“Billy is Lauren's friend and he ranked her,” Lili pointed out. “C'mon, it'll be fun. Tri's ranked all of us except you, you know.”

“You don't have to do it,” Lauren said, feeling bad that she'd unwittingly stumbled into another one of Ashley's power moves.

A. A. sighed. “No, I'll do it,” she said roughly, picking up the phone and dialing a number. “This game is so dumb.”

“And yet so addictive at the same time,” said Lili wisely.

“Maybe if I'm lucky he won't be home,” A. A. said, looking at her watch as the phone started to ring.

Lauren hoped so too, for A. A.'s sake. She didn't know Tri. He was one of the popular seventh-grade boys who was always hanging out with the Ashleys. He was really cute, but incredibly short.

“Put him on speaker,” Ashley ordered, and A. A. reluctantly complied, hitting the button and placing the phone in the middle of their huddle.

“Domino's,” a youthful voice answered.

“Ha-ha,” A. A. said, leaning forward and amplifying her voice so that he would be able to hear her better. “I know it's you, The Third.”

“Hey, Double-A. What's up? Am I on speaker? What's going on?”

A. A. sighed. She looked at her friends.
Do I really have to?
she mouthed.

Ashley and Lili nodded vigorously while Lauren shrugged, feeling guilty for making A. A. do something she obviously didn't want to do.

“Tri, will you accept a rank call?”

THERE WAS SILENCE ON THE
line for a bit, and A. A. heard nothing but the sound of, what else, a video game in the background—the rat-a-tat of an automatic weapon, the shrill cries of decapitated zombies. Then Tri came back on the line. He sounded hesitant. “From you? You want me to rank . . . you?”

“Yes, from me,” A. A. said. “Just do it, okay?”

“Okay,” said Tri, still sounding uncertain. “Hit me.”

A. A. looked down the list. Maybe she should start with an easy one. “Personality?” she asked.

“I dunno,” Tri said.

“You've accepted the call, Tri,” Ashley butted in, elbowing A. A. aside for now. “You know the rules.”

“Who's there?” Tri asked sharply.

“Everyone—me, Ash, Lil, Lauren,” A. A. told him. “The usual.”

“Personality . . . uh . . . I give you a ten,” said Tri.

A. A. noticed Ashley raise her eyebrows, but a ten for personality wasn't such a surprise, considering that she and Tri were best friends. Of course he would think she had a good personality. Okay, next one.

“Hair?” she asked. God, this was truly moronic. How could she ask Tri—the guy who once showed her how to stick a noodle in her nose and make it come out her mouth—what he thought of her hair? Did he even think of her hair? She pulled on her pigtails anxiously.