THE WINCHESTER COMMON ROOM HAD BECOME the unofficial party-planning headquarters for the Teen Cuisine premiere party. Paige and I had been talking last-minute details for the past couple of hours. The planning was a welcome relief from an insane week of papers, quizzes, and too many books to read. At least I’d finally written my film paper—now I just had to set up a time to meet Jacob for my critique.
“Flavored sparkling water. Yes or no?” Paige asked.
“Yes,” I said. “Definitely.”
I twirled my pen in the air. Tomorrow was it. The day I’d tell everyone about Eric and me. I wavered between nerves and excitement. But after tomorrow, Eric and I could finally go on our first official date. A real date. Oh, my God. I grinned hugely.
“Sasha?” Paige asked.
“What?”
“I was saying,” Paige said, “that I have to finish baking the last batch of cupcakes tomorrow morning.”
“I’ll help you if you want,” I offered.
Paige shook her head. “Uh, thanks, but we know how that would turn out.”
“What?” I faked shock. “How?”
“Oh, I don’t know. But I’m guessing it would involve a fire.”
We both laughed until our eyes teared.
“Fine,” I said, sticking out my tongue. “I’ll stay far away from your precious food.”
I double-checked my decoration list. Tomorrow, I had to sneak off to the media center to put everything up. I couldn’t wait to see Paige’s face when she walked into the room.
“Are you going to be okay with Callie, Jacob, and Eric there?” Paige asked.
I considered telling Paige about my announcement plan, but decided against it. She was nervous enough about her party—I didn’t want her to worry about me and Callie.
“I’ll be fine. It’s your party. No one’s going to mess it up.”
“’Kay. But you have to tell me if things get weird. Promise?”
“Promise. And I think—” I stopped talking when Jasmine walked into the room. I thought about how she really had worn all of those clothes that she’d brought in her thousands of suitcases. I hadn’t seen her in the same shirt twice. Tonight, she wore a soft lilac wrap sweater and a pair of black low-rise pants. Her Sidekick was pressed against her ear.
“But I want them to—” Jasmine stopped talking when she saw us. “Hold on.”
With an exaggerated huff, Jas turned and walked back out of the room.
Paige and I looked at each other.
“What’s up with her?” Paige asked.
I sighed. “No clue. She’s probably plotting something against the Trio.”
“Well, if anyone can handle Jas,” Paige said, “it is Heather.”
“I hope so,” I said, remembering the Belles’ intervention in the cafeteria.
Jasmine was obviously up to something. I’d just have to cross my fingers that Heather would handle whatever it was. The Trio and I weren’t friends, but it was still us—the real Canterwood riders—against Jasmine.