The Dolls (8 page)

She kisses him chastely and steps back to Peregrine’s side.

“Gin and tonic?” Arelia asks eagerly as she smoothes a corner of the blanket. It’s cashmere, I notice. “Or would you prefer champagne today?”

I’m expecting Peregrine and Chloe to laugh like this is some kind of inside joke. But Peregrine chirps, “G and T,” and Chloe says, “Same for me.”

Arelia turns to me next, looking confused. I stare right back, trying to figure out how they’re planning to drink alcohol out in the open on school property.

“Arelia?” Peregrine begins. “Aren’t you going to ask Eveny what she’d like?”

“Seriously?” Arelia says. When Peregrine nods, she turns and says in a tight voice, “Eveny, would you like a gin and tonic too?”

“Uh,” I say. Chloe nods encouragingly. “Sure, okay. Thanks.”

Arelia makes me a drink, muttering to herself, as Justin wanders over and drapes himself over Chloe’s shoulders like a scarf.

“I missed you today,” he says, nuzzling her ear.

“Honestly, Justin, I just saw you three hours ago,” Chloe replies with a roll of her eyes, but her expression is delighted.

Five minutes later, we’re all seated on the soft blanket, holding crystal tumblers full of ice, liquor, lime wedges, and what look like tiny purple verbena flowers. “Cheers to old friends returning,” Peregrine says, holding up her glass in a toast. We all raise our glasses, and everyone turns to look at me.

“And to happy reunions?” I say.

“Hear, hear!” Chloe says cheerfully as Justin plays with her hair. We clink glasses, and I watch as everyone takes a long sip of their drinks. I sniff mine suspiciously. Call me crazy, but it doesn’t seem like the first day at a new school is the time to start with a liquor habit.

Fortunately, no one seems to notice I’m not drinking. I watch as Chloe wriggles free of Justin to whisper something to Peregrine. Pascal leers at them while licking his lips, and Justin watches Chloe’s every movement like his life depends on it. I’m so intrigued by the fact that Margaux and Arelia are unpacking a full lunch of tea sandwiches and salads from a giant picnic basket that I don’t notice anyone else approaching the Hickories until a shadow falls over us. I look up and my heart nearly stops.

It’s Caleb Shaw, and in his Pointe Laveau uniform, with a charcoal gray hoodie and navy Chuck Taylors, he’s even more gorgeous than he was outside the library.

“Oh,” is the first thing he says when he realizes I’m sitting there. I could swear that there’s some sort of accusation in his eyes as he stares at me.

“Um,” I reply, feeling my cheeks heat up.

“Titillating conversation, kids,” Peregrine says, looking amused.

I try to think of something to say, but his gaze is turning my brain to mush.

“I think I’m going to eat in the caf today,” Caleb says, refocusing on the group.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Caleb,” Peregrine says. “Or are you just being pissy because you didn’t get to go away this weekend?”

“No, I think being pissy is your thing, not mine.”

Peregrine rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling.

“You eat with us
every
day,” Chloe says. “You’re not going to be rude to Eveny, are you?”

He glances at me uncertainly.

“Of course not.” But he avoids looking at me as he settles on the far end of the blanket.

Peregrine must notice the same thing, because she’s looking back and forth between us with a small smile on her face. “Well, then,” she says finally, glancing at Chloe.

I cast sidelong looks at Caleb while Arelia and Margaux quickly pile sandwich quarters and spoonfuls of macaroni salad onto gold-rimmed bone china plates and hand them out.

I’m the last to receive my food, which Arelia shoves at me. I take a bite of an egg salad sandwich, which is soft and delicious, as the others take big swigs of their cocktails.

“So, how do you concentrate in the afternoon if you drink these at lunch?” I ask after a moment, holding up my drink.

“We don’t have to
concentrate,
silly!” Chloe trills. “Besides, that’s what the verbena flower is for. It enhances concentration.”

I look at her in confusion. When I was a kid, my mom used to make up funny bedtime stories about herbs and their magical powers—which is probably one of the things that got me so interested in botany—so I’m no stranger to superstition. But do these girls truly believe that the verbena is having some sort of effect on them? I recall the strange words of Chloe’s mom as she handed me the coffee cake last week, and I realize that maybe the answer is yes.

I watch in silence as they continue to sip and eat. Even in the humidity of midday, everyone’s hair is perfect, and the girls’ makeup hasn’t budged. I’m sure that I, on the other hand, look like I’ve stuck my finger in a light socket, frizzing my hair and insta-melting the foundation off my face. Yet no one has said anything biting about the way I look, although I’m expecting Peregrine to be full of snide remarks.

Margaux spoons second helpings of macaroni salad on Pascal’s plate as the conversation turns to the Mardi Gras Ball.

“It’s the pinnacle of Carrefour social events,” Pascal says, settling down next to me as he digs into his salad. He reaches over after a moment and runs a finger up my spine, which makes me shiver. “Maybe you can be my date.”

“Maybe,” I say noncommittally, trying to figure out why an impeccably dressed, smarmily handsome guy like Pascal would have any interest in a human frizzball like me. Perhaps because I’m new?

As if she’s reading my mind, Peregrine smirks and says, “Pascal, and maybe
you
can refrain from attempting to bang the new girl for at least a few days.”

I feel eyes on me again, and this time when I look up, Caleb holds my gaze for a long moment before looking away.

Pascal eventually scoots over to flirt with Margaux, and I see Arelia beginning to gather up the dirty plates on her own. No one makes a move to help, so I stand, grab a few empty plates and glasses, and make my way over to the picnic basket. I’m about to ask where we wash them—I’m still confused that they eat on china and sip from crystal in the middle of school—but Arelia silences me with a dirty look.

“Just so you know,” she says under her breath as Peregrine and Chloe chatter behind us, “it took Margaux and me
years
to become Dolls. So don’t make the mistake of assuming that just because you’re a Cheval, every door in the world is going to open for you. You still have to work your way up.”

“I’m not assuming anything,” I reply. I have no idea what she’s talking about.

As Arelia snatches the dishes from my hand, I see Caleb stand, hitch his backpack onto his shoulder, and nod good-bye to everyone. As he begins to trudge down the hill, I grab my bag too and quickly thank Peregrine and Chloe for the invitation to eat with them.

“Where are you going in such a hurry, Eveny?” Peregrine asks knowingly.

“Just to class.”

“Nothing to do with the cute boy you’re chasing after?” Peregrine singsongs. I can hear them laughing as I dash down the hill to catch up with Caleb.

“Hey,” I say, pulling up beside him.

He turns and looks oddly nonplussed to see me. “Oh. Hey.”

“So,” I begin awkwardly, “I’m Eveny.”

“I know.” For a moment he looks straight ahead, and I have the feeling he’s not going to say anything else. But then, as if he’s conceding something, he adds, “The girl who thinks reading is cool.”

“Well, it is,” I say defensively, which makes him laugh.

But his smile is gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced with an expression that looks inexplicably frustrated. “I’m Caleb,” he says.

“I know,” I reply. A loaded silence stretches between us. I can’t figure out why I’m feeling uneasy, or why he’s acting almost standoffish. “So, what class are you headed to?” I ask.

“American history.”

“Oh, me too!” But he doesn’t say a word, and we sink back into silence.

This time, it’s Caleb who breaks it. “So you moved from New York?” His tone is reluctant, like he doesn’t want to be talking to me at all.

“Yeah, really suddenly. It was right before my birthday last week, and my aunt was just like, ‘Hey, we’re moving back to Louisiana.’ I didn’t even have time to prepare for it, you know? I mean, one second, I live in New York, the next second, I’m in the passenger seat of as car headed a thousand miles away. . . .”

I realize I’m babbling. I clamp my mouth shut, embarrassed.

“I’ve always wanted to go,” Caleb says a few seconds later, as if I haven’t just sounded like a rambling idiot. “To New York, I mean. It looks like it would be a pretty cool place. Millions of people. More restaurants than you could visit in a lifetime. Something for everyone.”

I’m hit with a pang of longing. “You’d love it there.”

“You miss it, I take it?”

“I do. It’s home.”

Caleb doesn’t reply right away. Finally, he turns to look at me. “I thought you’d be back in Carrefour sooner, to be honest.”

The change of topic catches me off guard. “What do you mean? You knew who I was before I got here?”

He half smiles at me but doesn’t elaborate. “Anyway, happy birthday,” he adds after a pause. “Seventeen’s the big one.”

“Well, not as big as eighteen,” I say.

“Not around here.”

UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

HarperCollins Publishers

..................................................................

C
aleb sits across the classroom and doesn’t acknowledge me once during the entire fifty-minute period. When the bell rings, he strides out without looking back, and by the time I make it into the hallway, he’s completely gone. I hate that this leaves me feeling so disappointed.

I’m relieved to find Liv, the girl from this morning, saving a seat for me in physics, my last class.

“How was your first day?” she asks as I sit down beside her.

“Honestly? Kind of weird.”

“That’s pretty much every day at Pointe Laveau. I found that out last year when I transferred from Carrefour Secondary. You might as well know I’m from the Périphérie.”

“Cool. My friend Drew lives there too. Actually, I was just out there last night with him for a crawfish boil.”

“Drew Grady? How do you know him?”

“Our moms were friends when we were kids.”

She stares at me oddly as the bell rings. The middle-aged, bespectacled Mr. Cronin welcomes me to class and launches into a lecture about action and reaction. When he finishes and assigns us to review chapters six and seven with a partner, Liv and I resume our conversation.

“I’m sorry, you said you went to the Périphérie last night?” Liv asks.

“Right,” I say. I don’t get why she’s reacting like I’ve told her I went to Mars.

“But you live on this side of town, don’t you?”

“Yes,” I say slowly.

“It’s just that usually people from this side of town don’t spend much time on the other side of the bayou.” She shakes her head. “Anyway, Drew’s a cool guy. Did he tell you about his band?”

“I think I heard the term ‘bayou fusion rock’ fifty times last night.”

She smiles. “He’s a little obsessed. He kind of considers music his ticket out of this town. I’ve got to say, I think he’s kind of onto something.”

“His band’s good?”

“They’re awesome. I’m planning to go to school for music production someday, and I think it would be pretty cool to work with a group like that.” She pauses. “Anyway, I know how you must feel, being new and all. I started at the beginning of sophomore year, and it was like no one wanted anything to do with me. Newcomers aren’t exactly welcomed with open arms.”

“I’m noticing that,” I tell her. “So how did you wind up here?”

“The kid with the scholarship before me flunked out. When the spot was offered to me, my dad wouldn’t even listen.” Her tone is bitter, but only a little. “Switching to this school, it’s like crossing a line. People expect you to be different, so it’s harder to hang out with everyone back home. But I don’t fit at Pointe Laveau because I’m from the Périphérie.”

“People really judge you for that?” I ask.

She looks at me like I’m nuts. “Dude, it’s the
poor
side of town. That means everything in this place.” She pauses. “So what brought you to Carrefour anyhow? We never get new people.”

“I’m not exactly new.” I tell her what happened with my mother and moving away.

“Your mom’s the one who committed suicide? Man, I’m sorry. I remember hearing about that.” She looks genuinely sad.

When the bell rings at the end of class, everyone scrambles to grab their bags and dash for the door. Liv walks out with me and hands me a slip of paper with her phone number.

“It’s nice to have someone new here,” she says. “Other than my best friend Max, who I’ll introduce you to tomorrow, and Drew, who’s cool, this whole school is really lame.”

“What about Peregrine and Chloe and their friends?” I ask carefully.

Liv snorts. “If you’re into staring at yourself in the mirror, getting wasted, and maxing out your mother’s credit cards, then yeah, they’re awesome.”

As if on cue, the Dolls round the corner in a cluster. “Eveny!” Peregrine exclaims, stopping in front of us and ignoring Liv entirely. The whole clique draws to a halt behind her. “How was your first day, darling?” Then, without waiting for an answer, she rolls on. “Listen, Chloe and I have a surprise for you! We’re getting you a haircut and a makeover on Thursday after school. We’ve already scheduled an appointment for you at Cristof’s Salon.”

“But—” I begin to protest, weakly reaching up to touch my tangled mass of red curls. Much as it would be nice to look a little better than I do now, I think I have a grand total of about seventeen dollars in my bank account at the moment. I’m guessing Cristof’s services cost more than that. “I’m not sure I can afford it.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s our treat,” Peregrine cuts me off. “We won’t take no for an answer. Consider it a happy birthday and welcome-back-to-town gift.”

Before I can reply, the Dolls are already walking away. Arelia casts me a dirty look over her shoulder, and then they turn the corner and are gone.

When I look back at Liv, she’s staring at me suspiciously. “You’re friends with
them
?”