“I am exhausted, you guys,” Hudson said. “Remind me never to do boot camp with my mom’s new trainer. Five straight days of two-hour ‘dance classes’ and I have, like, swine flu.” Hudson scrunched up her face and went a-CHOO! as people all over the diner turned their heads from her earsplitting sneeze.
“Couldn’t you have just stayed home today?” Carina asked, discreetly pulling out her packed lunch under the table.
“And risk being pulled into another torture session? No thanks,” Hudson said, sniffling into her Kleenex. “C, let me order you something, okay? You can’t bring food in here.”
“No, it’s fine,” she said, darting her eyes at the waiter’s turned back as she snuck a bite of her homemade sandwich, which she held under the table. “By the way, you sound really sick.”
“Have an Airborne,” Lizzie said, reaching into her backpack and pulling out a tube of meds. “I was behind some guy on the plane back from North Carolina who was really sick, and I think this saved me.”
“Was it weird not being home for Thanksgiving?” Carina asked Lizzie.
“Sort of, but not really,” Lizzie said, taking another bite of grilled cheese. “His mom’s side of the family really made me feel welcome. And North Carolina was so beautiful. How was Montauk?”
Carina smiled and snuck another bite. “So you guys remember my friend Alex? The DJ?” In a rare bout of self-control, she’d decided to wait until Monday to tell Lizzie and Hudson the news in person.
“Yeahhhh,” Hudson prompted, dipping a spoon into her chicken soup. “When’s his birthday again?”
“I have no idea,” Carina said. “But guess what? We hooked up.”
Hudson dropped her spoon in the bowl. “You did?”
“Yep,” Carina said, scooting closer to the table. “We went to this concert at Lincoln Center, and saw these Juilliard students play Beethoven, and then we went to the balloon blowup, and I thought he was going to kiss me, but he didn’t,” she said breathlessly. “And then the night after Thanksgiving, I went back in the city and we went to a rehearsal for the Killers. We had our own private concert. It was amazing.”
“Holy shnit,” Hudson yelled. “The Killers? Are you kidding me?”
“And he’s so sweet and funny and cute and wonderful,” Carina went on. “You guys’ll love him.”
“What happened to Carter?” Lizzie asked abruptly, digging into her side of coleslaw. “I thought he was the one you were really into.”
“Well, he was,” Carina said, a little irritably. “But you know what happened with that. Now everything’s kind of changed.”
“So you’re in love with the DJ guy?” Lizzie asked with a sour note in her voice.
Just then Todd walked over to their booth, and for the first time ever Carina was happy to have him interrupt.
“May I sit with you guys? Or am I interrupting?” he asked, in his adorably Britishy way.
“Sure, siddown,” Carina said, scooting over to make room for him in the booth.
“We’re just talking about guys,” Lizzie said. She reached out and gave Todd’s hand a girlfriend-like squeeze. “Carina’s into someone.”
“Oh, right—Carter,” Todd said distractedly as he picked up a menu from the table. “How’s that going?”
Carina looked at Todd, frozen. She wasn’t sure if she’d just heard him correctly. Had Lizzie told Todd about her crush on Carter?
She glanced at Lizzie, whose pale face was starting to redden.
“Did you tell him?” Carina asked.
“I didn’t mean to,” Lizzie said, giving Todd a stern you-blew-it look. “It just slipped out.”
“Oh, sorry,” Todd said quickly. “I don’t know anything. Nothing.”
Carina almost couldn’t swallow. It was one of their oldest rules: crush gossip—and anything crush-related—stayed strictly between the three of them. And now Lizzie had broken their rule.
Carina put her food back in the brown bag. “I have to go,” she muttered, feeling her cheeks start to blaze.
“Carina—” Lizzie said.
She almost pushed Todd out of her way but he gallantly stood up. “Carina—don’t,” he said.
“C,” pleaded Lizzie. “Come on. I’m sorry, I—”
Carina didn’t let her finish. She grabbed her book bag and went right to the door. She could feel everyone watching her as she walked back onto the street, but she didn’t care.
She marched down the street to school, barely noticing the tiny flakes of snow that drifted down from the sky. When had she ever breathed a word to Todd about Lizzie’s crush on him? All those months when Lizzie was pining for him—had Carina ever told anyone? Would she ever betray her friend that way? Absolutely not. And now Lizzie felt it was okay to tell Todd about her friend’s crushes on other guys? She was almost nauseous. And even if it had “slipped out,” it still felt like a betrayal.
“C! Wait up!” a voice called out.
Carina turned around and saw Hudson running down the street with her coat unbuttoned, her twin ponytails flapping in the breeze.
“C, come back!” Hudson called out, brushing a strand of black hair out of her green eyes. “Todd’s totally mortified. And Lizzie feels awful.”
“Then why’d she tell him?” Carina asked. “It’s our biggest rule.”
“I don’t know.” Hudson shrugged. “He’s her boyfriend now. People in relationships tell each other stuff. When you’re in love, sometimes those rules go out the window.”
“Oh come on, they’re not in love,” Carina spat. “They’re just going out like everyone else.”
Hudson swallowed. A flake of snow hit the top of her tiny snub nose and melted. “Not anymore. I think they said it to each other this weekend.”
Carina felt something heavy shift inside of her. “They said it to each other?”
“That’s what she told me,” Hudson said.
And she didn’t tell me, Carina thought. This felt like an even worse betrayal than what had happened with Todd.
Carina edged backward down the street. “I think I gotta go up to the computer lab and print something out. See you in Spanish?”
Hudson’s face fell. “Come on, Carina,” Hudson said. “Don’t do this.”
She wheeled around and hurried toward the school entrance, feeling Hudson’s eyes watching her go. She knew that she was being ultradramatic, but she was too mad and too confused right now to know how to act or what to say. Lizzie had betrayed her trust, plain and simple. And now she’d betrayed their friendship by keeping something from her.
It was just so crazy. Of the three of them, Carina had always been the one with the boyfriends. She was the one who routinely gave Lizzie and Hudson advice on how to talk to guys. She was the one who’d been kissed first, who’d been on a date first, who’d gotten more love letters—okay, e-mails—from guys than anyone else she knew. It had always been a given that she would be the one to be in love first. Now Lizzie, who’d never really gone out with anyone before, had beaten her to the Holy Grail of romance. And she hadn’t even told Carina about it. Was it because she could sense Carina’s feelings about Todd? Among the three of them, nobody ever kept information from one person but not from the other. They were all practically the same person. So why would Lizzie tell Hudson and not her?
She threw open the door to the school and came face-to-face with Ava and the Icks, headed outside. Ava’s normally auburn hair was now almost blond, and her skin glowed with what could only be a Caribbean tan. As usual, she didn’t seem the slightest bit surprised to see Carina, even though they’d almost plowed into each other.
“Oh, hey, I meant to text you while I was down in Mustique, but for some reason my phone wouldn’t work on the beach,” she said, popping almonds in her mouth from a small plastic bag. “Where are we with the flowers? Have you talked to Mercer yet? We’re starting to run out of time.”
“Who?” Carina asked. She knew that the name Mercer sounded familiar but she couldn’t remember why.
“Mercer Vaise. The florist I said I wanted. Have you spoken to him?”
Carina thought fast. “Actually, I was just gonna tell you,” she said. “I found someone even cooler than that to do the flowers.”
“You did?” Ava asked, shooting a skeptical look at Ilona, who smirked back at her. “Who?”
“Marisol Suar—” She stopped herself. Ava would find out that Marisol was fourteen. But she didn’t need to know that she was the DJ’s sister. “Willis. She does these arrangements that are so perfect they almost don’t look real. And would it be possible for her to come to the event?”
Ava scribbled something in her pad. “She wants to come?”
“I guess she just likes to see her pieces all set up.”
“And what about Sugarbabies?” Ava pressed. “Have you called them yet about the cupcakes?”
“Yup,” she fibbed. “But we’re still working out the details.”
Satisfied, Ava put her notebook away. “Just so you know, the Make New York Beautiful people are très psyched at everything you’ve done so far. You’ve gotten your invitation, right?”
Carina nodded. It was still sitting unopened in its gold-lined envelope on her desk. How she was ever going to scrape together the cash to actually go to this dance she had no idea. “Hey, I gotta get to Spanish,” she said, hoping to make a graceful exit.
“Wait.” Ava grabbed her arm. “A bunch of us are going to Intermix after school to pick out dresses. So we can be sure that we don’t all wear the same thing but that we all look like we’re in the same, you know, group.”
“Um—I really don’t—”
“We’ll see you in the lobby. Three thirty,” Ava said firmly, and then she and the Icks breezed out onto the street. Carina let the door swing closed behind her.
There was always the janitor’s closet, she thought. But this time, she didn’t think she could lie her way out of this one. And the lies she’d already told were starting to pile up into a confusing, treacherous mess. The dance was in less than three weeks now, and for the first time she wondered if she was actually going to get away with any of the stuff she’d kept from Ava. And thinking about her thousand-dollar paycheck only made her feel guiltier. Especially because she knew now that she didn’t even want to go on Carter’s ski trip anymore.
She pushed through the door onto the Upper School floor, and as if to answer her question, there were Carter and Laetitia walking toward her down the hall. They’d both just come in from outside as well. The fine dusting of snow in Carter’s curly hair clashed with the tan he’d gotten down on Fisher Island. Laetitia sipped a gigantic Starbucks take-out coffee, and from the way she chatted in Carter’s ear she looked as blasé and over it all as usual.
Carina’s first instinct was to run. She still hadn’t responded to any of Laetitia’s e-mails about the Ritz-Carlton or the restaurant reservation. But it was too late. Both of them saw her. And then Carina realized that she needed to tell him that her plans had changed.
“Hey,” Carter said, walking over, unwinding his scarf. “How was your break?”
“Great,” she said, shifting her weight shyly from foot to foot. “How was Florida?”
“Amazing as usual,” he said. “I caught another marlin. It was hella big, like this,” he said, stretching out his arms. “Took me all day to reel it in. I was like that guy…” He shrugged. “You know… from the book…”
“The Old Man and the Sea?” she prompted. They’d all had to read it in eighth grade. Apparently, the title had left little impression on Carter.
“Ex-actly,” he said, pointing at her.
“Um, have you gotten any of my e-mails?” Laetitia asked in a withering voice as her bored blue eyes looked Carina up and down. “Because you’re the only one who hasn’t responded.”
“Actually, I came over to tell you… I don’t think I can make the trip anymore. My dad wants to spend the break down in Jamaica and he’s forcing me to come with him.” It was a lie, but this time she didn’t feel guilty telling one.
“Your dad is forcing you?” Laetitia asked in disbelief.
Carina could feel Carter looking at her.
“I’m not really sure,” she said. “But I can’t go.”
Laetitia smiled wryly, as if she’d known this was coming all along. “See?” she said to Carter. “I told you she was too young for this.” She turned back to Carina. “So sorry you won’t be joining us.” She took Carter by the arm, and in that moment, Carina finally understood why Laetitia never seemed to leave Carter alone. She was completely in love with him. “Let’s go,” she said to him.
They stalked off, leaving her standing in the hall. Carter didn’t even give her one last look. Things were definitely over with him. But right now, it just felt like one less person that she had to play a part for.