“So I have to say, I’ve never really appreciated New York so much as I have today,” Carina announced, just before she bit into her favorite meal at the diner: a turkey burger topped with Swiss cheese and cranberry sauce. “I bet they don’t have burgers like this in California.”
“If they do, you wouldn’t be allowed to eat the fries,” Lizzie said, stealing some of Carina’s from across the table.
Next to her, Hudson put down her fork and let out a long, noisy yawn. “Sorry, guys,” she said. “This album’s kicking my butt.”
“You’re still not done recording?” Carina asked.
“We had to start all over, remember?” Hudson said, trying to spear a cherry tomato in her salad. “We had to move to another studio, redo all the songs, change musicians. All because my mom thinks I need to be less Starbucks easy listening and more Christina Aguilera,” she said wryly.
“But the song we saw you doing that day in the studio was so beautiful,” Lizzie said. “What happened?”
“My mom thought it was boring,” Hudson replied. “Welcome to my world.”
Pop icon Holla Jones had very definite opinions about turning her only child into a star. With her soulful voice, incredible songwriting skills, and intense presence, Hudson had everything it took to be a cross between Fiona Apple and Nina Simone. But Holla wanted Hudson to be a frothy pop star with top forty hits, just like herself. Lizzie and Carina were starting to wonder if that was something that Hudson actually wanted.
“Is your producer at least on your side?” Lizzie said.
“Not anymore,” she said, sipping her iced tea. “We started out on the same page. You know, no samples, no fake beats, no synthesizers. Just something low-fi and rootsy. Now it’s like that never happened. He does everything my mom says. It’s really annoying.”
“Sounds like he and Creepy Manservant should go on a mandate,” Carina said, taking another bite of burger. “The way that he kisses my dad’s butt is shocking.”
“Maybe your producer’s just afraid of your mom,” Lizzie offered.
“Speaking of being afraid of people, what’s the latest with Martin Meloy?” Carina asked Lizzie.
Lizzie made a face as she slurped some of her chicken noodle soup. “After I walked out of the shoot he told Women’s Wear Daily that he had another ‘vision’ for his new line,” she said, using finger quotes. “But at least I got to keep his new bag.” She picked up the bag he’d dubbed “The Lizzie,” made of white leather covered with silver buckles. “I’m wondering how much I could get for it on eBay.”
“Oh, don’t sell it, keep it as a souvenir,” Hudson said. “And you’re always going to be a model. Who cares about Martin Meloy?”
“Andrea’s so much cooler anyway, and I’m doing those portraits for her show at the Gagosian,” Lizzie said. “But right now I’m just trying to get back into my writing. And my relationship.”
“I can’t believe you just said relationship,” Carina teased.
Lizzie blushed.
“I think it’s cute,” Hudson said. “I swear to God, Todd just gets hotter every day. I’m really happy for you, Lizbutt.”
“Yeah, me too,” Carina said, a little less enthusiastically.
“Thanks, you guys,” Lizzie said, letting out a nervous giggle. “And Hudson, don’t look now, but I think your stalker is on her way over.”
Carina looked up from her turkey burger to see Hillary Crumple, Hudson’s biggest eighth-grade fan, maneuvering her way through the room. Her thin brown hair had mostly escaped her ponytail, but her square pink-and-blue backpack was firmly strapped to both shoulders. Today she wore a magenta sweater embroidered with one giant heart edged with sequins and an enormous kilt that hit the middle of her shins. Carina almost respected Hillary for being such an unapologetic dork, but she didn’t like the way Hillary followed Hudson around school trying desperately to be her friend. Last week Hudson had gotten a call on her cell from a celebrity tabloid, just days after Hillary had practically forced Hudson to give up her number at the Chadwick dance. As she watched Hillary trudge over to their table, Carina got another prickly feeling along her skin. Hillary Crumple was bad news.
“Are you still getting those calls from the tabloids?” Carina asked Hudson.
Hudson nodded but put her hand on Carina’s arm. “Don’t say anything, okay? I really don’t think Hillary Crumple is selling my number.”
“No, she just has a shrine to you in her bedroom,” Carina joked.
Hudson gave her a look. “I’m serious, C. Don’t say anything. I can hold her off.”
Carina nodded, but she shot Hillary a suspicious glare as she reached their table, just in case.
“Hi, Hudson,” Hillary chirped, her yellow-green eyes fixed on her idol. “Those are really cool earrings.”
“Thanks,” Hudson said, touching her gold leaf drops.
“I need to find earrings like that,” Hillary said in her rapid-fire voice. “Maybe in silver. My mom says silver looks better on me than gold. Maybe we could go shopping for earrings this weekend? Are you around? Maybe down in SoHo? Or NoLIta?”
Lizzie and Carina nudged Hudson’s shin under the table.
“I would love to, Hillary, but I’m gonna be in the studio this weekend,” Hudson said sweetly.
“That’s okay,” Hillary said, still in rapid-fire mode. “I can come down there and hang out with you. If you need company. Or just someone to play Xbox with. I heard that recording studios have Xbox. Does yours have Xbox?”
Hudson looked pained. Carina and Lizzie nudged her under the table again.
“You didn’t give Hudson’s number out to anyone, did you?” Carina asked, unable to help herself. Under the table, she felt Hudson give her a swift kick right back.
“Me?” Hillary turned to look at Carina for the first time. “No way. Who would I have given it to?”
The three friends exchanged a look. “No one, just forget it,” Hudson said quickly.
“Then I’ll give you a call this weekend,” Hillary said brightly, stepping away from the table. “That cool?”
“Great,” Hudson said, forcing a smile. “See you this weekend.”
“Oh, and I’m awesome at Rock Band,” Hillary added just as she turned around and almost bodychecked a waiter with her boxy backpack.
“Are you crazy?” Carina yelled as soon as Hillary was gone. “Now she’s never gonna leave you alone.”
“What was I supposed to do? Tell her she can’t call me?”
“Yes!” Lizzie and Carina both said at once. “Or at least change your number,” Carina added.
“I’m not going to change my number because of a couple of weird calls,” said Hudson.
“Remember that when you end up in the National Enquirer,” Carina said, taking another bite of her burger. “You are way, way too nice. If you don’t start channeling your inner bee-yatch sometime soon, you’re gonna regret it.”
Hudson shrugged and went back to her salad. Carina sipped her Diet Coke. She knew that she could be bossy sometimes, but someone had to toughen Hudson up. If only to help her deal with Holla.
Just as she was about to take another delicious bite, Carina looked out the window at the street and froze. There, only a few feet away, was Carter McLean. He was standing on the sidewalk, talking to his friends as he ate a slice of take-out pizza from the place on Ninety-first Street. The edges of his brown curly hair lifted in the wind. As he laughed at something someone said, his green eyes glinted in the sun. Carina felt her heart do a bungee jump right into her stomach. Thank God she hadn’t been sent to boarding school. Thank God.
Carter was a sophomore, a track star, and one of the hottest guys in the city. She’d worshipped him from afar ever since he’d smiled at her in line for popcorn at the East Hampton movie theater. She’d realized that it was purely an accident, but then last week at Ilona’s party, Carina had caught him staring at her. Now she couldn’t get him out of her mind. He hung out with the coolest crowd at Chadwick—a group of superrich, superindependent kids who traveled in a pack to each other’s houses all over the world. Nobody seemed to have parents, or if they did, nobody seemed to bother running plans past them. Crazy rumors flew about their adventures clubbing in South Beach and chilling at celebrity parties in Malibu. Carter was the unquestioned leader of the group, as famous for being a daredevil as he was for breaking girls’ hearts. She knew that of all the guys at Chadwick he was her boyfriend, just waiting to happen.
Now, almost as if he could read her mind, Carter turned and looked through the window, right at her. Her heart stopped. His green eyes locked on hers, a playful smile curled around the edges of his mouth, and Carina gulped. She had to look away before she threw up her burger.
“C, what’s wrong with you?” Lizzie asked, squinting at her. “Are you sick?”
“Carter McLean just looked at me again,” she whispered, nodding toward the window. “Don’t look.”
Lizzie and Hudson both craned their necks to take a quick look, but Carter was back to talking to his supercool friends, Laetitia and Anton. Laetitia Dunn was a tall, rangy blond sophomore whose chilly, bored look said she’d done it all, seen it all, and had nothing to say about any of it. She was supposedly dating a twenty-five-year-old male model who lived in Paris. Anton West had dark hair and piercing brown eyes and never smiled. Carina found them both pretty intimidating.
“That’s the second time in a week,” Hudson said, impressed. “He’s really checking you out, C.”
“Okay,” Carina said, wiping her hands on a napkin. “I’m gonna go talk to him.” She stood up.
“Now?” Hudson asked.
“Yeah, why not? I mean, he obviously wants me to.”
“I don’t know,” Lizzie said. “I get a weird vibe from him. And his friends.”
“I’m not gonna talk to his friends,” Carina argued.
“He seems kind of full of himself,” Lizzie added.
“He’s confident,” Carina corrected.
“He’d have to be,” Hudson added. “Didn’t he just climb Denali or something?”
“I heard it was hang gliding over the Sahara,” Carina put in, wrapping her scarf around her neck.
“Well, go work your Carina magic,” Lizzie said, with a patient smile. “We’ll just sit here and watch.”
As she set off past the tables toward the door, Carina felt the adrenaline start to kick in. She loved making the first move with guys, even though sometimes her friends didn’t approve. She knew that guys were usually just too scared to talk to her first, and nine times out of ten, if she started the conversation, they eventually asked for her number.
But that’s when she usually stopped liking them. She didn’t really know why. Her friends said it was because she only wanted a challenge. “It’s like you want to climb a guy instead of go out with him,” Lizzie liked to say.
But Carter McLean, she knew, was different. She would never, ever get tired of looking at the cleft in his chin, or soaking in his laid-back, effortlessly cool vibe. Plus, Carter wasn’t the kind of guy who would fall all over her. He would always be a little out of reach. Which was just what she liked about him.
She pushed her way through the door and stepped onto Madison Avenue. Carter had finished his pizza but was still talking with Laetitia and Anton. As soon as Carina walked out, he turned to look at her.
“Hey,” she said, waving slightly as she walked down the street. “You need anything from the candy place?” She was so nervous that her voice almost caught. She could feel Laetitia and Anton staring at her.
“Huh?” he asked.
“I’m going to get candy,” she said, nodding her head in the direction of Sweet Nothings down the street. “You need some, too?”
He plunged his hands into his coat pockets and took a step toward her. Fortunately, Laetitia and Anton started talking to each other.
“Nah, but I’ll go with you if you need some help,” he said, giving her a smile that seemed to say that he knew just what she was up to.
“Great,” she flirted back, and they started walking to the store.
They walked into the Sweet Nothings boutique on Madison. Carina stopped in here most days after school because they had all the hard-to-find European goodies. She grabbed a plastic bag and made her way to the tubs of candy by the pound. Carter trailed behind her. Suddenly she realized that this was a little awkward. She’d gotten him to come in here with her, and now she needed to say something.
“Smells like snow,” she said as she opened the tub of dark chocolate Bavarian truffles and scooped some into her bag. “I can’t wait to do some boarding. You snowboard, right?”
“Definitely, but not around here,” he said in his less-is-more voice. “East Coast sucks.”
“Well, yeah,” Carina said. “Aspen’s so much better.”
“No, that sucks, too,” he said. “You ever been to the Alps?”
“No,” Carina said, tying her bag of truffles into a knot. “But I’ve heard it’s incredible.” Being this close to Carter was giving her butterfingers.
“The powder there makes Vail look like the Catskills,” Carter said, toying with one of the plastic scoops on a chain. “My uncle has a place in Chamonix. A bunch of us are going over Christmas break.”
“Really?” she said, almost unable to look at his sexy green eyes.
“His place is right on the mountain, with amazing views of the whole valley,” he said, shaking the curls out of his eyes. “It’s got a hot tub, this huuuge kitchen. And the clubs there are off the hook.” A smile crawled across his face. “You want to come?”
She almost dropped her plastic bag. “Uh… what?” she asked.
“A whole bunch of us are going for ten days over New Year’s,” he said, opening a tub of chocolate malt balls and popping a few in his mouth. “Laetitia, Anton, all those guys. I figured since you like to snowboard…” He swallowed and grinned at her, showing her his perfect white teeth. “You should come.”
A vision flashed through her head: she and Carter on their boards, carving their way down a mountain together, and kissing when they reached the bottom as a pink and gold sunset lit up a picture-perfect Swiss valley…
“Sure!” she said, a little too loudly. “Count me in.”
“Cool,” he said, stepping away from her. “I’ll let you know how much lift tickets are. And a bunch of us already have our flights on Swissair. Laetitia’s got all the details. She’s sending around some group e-mail.”
Of course she knew that other people would be there, but the prospect of hanging out with Carter for ten days—ten days straight—was almost too much to absorb.
“Sounds good,” she said, struggling to sound casual as she handed the woman behind the register a twenty-dollar bill. “Oh, and I hope you’re not all talk. ’Cause I am gonna kick your butt on that mountain.”
“That’s what you think,” Carter said, flashing a grin. “I look forward to it.” They left the store, and Carina watched him walk back to Laetitia and Anton.
When she glided back into the diner, she was smiling so hard that Lizzie almost choked on her hot chocolate.
“Oh my God, what happened?” she asked.
“You’ll never believe it,” Carina said, sliding back into the booth. “I’m going with him to the Alps for Christmas break. To go snowboarding.” She dumped her candy bag on the table with a dramatic thump. “Isn’t that cool?”
“You’re gonna go away with him alone?” Hudson asked, her sea green eyes becoming as big as silver dollars.
“No, his friends are going, too,” she said casually.
“Wait—you’re gonna go on a trip with those guys?” Lizzie asked, looking back at Laetitia and Anton. “Are you sure you want to do that?”
“They’re not serial killers or anything,” Carina said defensively. “And he asked me if I wanted to go.”
“As a friend,” Lizzie clarified.
“Yeah, but it’s definitely the beginning of something,” she argued. “What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing,” Lizzie said. “It’s just not really our crowd, that’s all.”
“Well, it’s gonna be amazing,” Hudson said. “What’s his sign again?”
“I’ll find out,” Carina said, tearing open the plastic bag. “Did I tell you his uncle has a hot tub?”
“Man, C,” Hudson said, looking down at her plate and shaking her head. “You should teach a seminar or something.”
“There’s nothing to it,” Carina said, grinning as she popped a chocolate into her mouth.