Jet Set (18 page)

B
ack at the table, the main course was being served. It was Poulet de Bresse with rich butter oozing out of the first cut, accompanied by a rich risotto. A series of servers paraded to the table with our plates covered with silver domes, which were all whipped off at the same exact moment, followed by each server taking out a white truffle and shaving it copiously onto our risotto in synchronized movements.

Too bad the seat remained empty next to me. Not that I cared, but I looked around the ballroom to see where Antony was. MIA.

Everyone marveled at the amazing food, but I felt hollow inside. It was like New Year's Eve, where you felt such extreme pressure to have fun, but alas, the stars were not aligned that way.

“Where's your man, Luce?” asked Maxwell with a sarcastic grin.

“Bugger off, Max,” said Angelina, who slid into Antony's empty chair. “You really talk too much for your own good.”

Everyone at the table started laughing, even Maxwell, but I could tell he was mortified. The fact that Angelina, the most sought-after girl at school, had given him a dressing-down was humiliating.

“Thanks,” I whispered to Angelina.

“It was a long time coming. The guy's a weasel,” she said with a smile.

We both dissolved into giggles. And that was when I decided to try to let go of all my worries about what had just happened with Antony and enjoy myself. At least I was among friends, so it would all be okay.

So I thought.

Right as I was about to savor the last bite of risotto with a huge piece of truffle perched atop the creamy Arborio rice, I felt something wet. On my neck.

“Whoops! Oh my God, so sorry! I'm so clumsy!”

The gasps of my tablemates mingled with Sofia's acid voice. I simply stared at my lap, now dripping with the red juice of the Van punch, an annual ball concoction served in silver terrines
with sterling ladles. Some had whispered that the boys traditionally spiked it with some Spanish fly to get the girls tipsy, but whatever the mystery ingredients, they were now soaking through my dress.

“Oh my God!” Tiggy leaped up with her linen monogrammed napkin and began dabbing away at the red river. “You bitch!” snipped Tiggy.

“It's okay, Tig, I'm fine.”

“Yeah, right!” said Sofia snidely. “Too bad your prince charming was out of here the second he realized you're here on scholarship!” she said loudly to the whole table. There was some surprised silence, but then something amazing happened. No one seemed to care.

“Sofia, back off this instant,” ordered Oliver, standing up. “Get the hell away from her.”

“I don't know why you are all friends with her. Don't you know that she's not who she says she is? This girl is a fraud!”

I could tell that people at tables around us were listening. Victoria walked up from the next table over. Sofia stood there, clad in a short, tight sequined dress, teetering in giant spiked heels, looking like this was the moment she had been waiting for.

“Shut up. You're just being nasty,” said Oliver.

“Oh yeah? Well, what about this?” asked Sofia, pulling out a piece of paper from her clutch.

“What's that?” asked Tiggy.

“This is a letter from
Gab!
magazine confirming that one Lucy
Peterson sold them stories about several students at Van Pelt Academy. It's on the editor-in-chief's letterhead and confirms that Lucy gave them pictures of Victoria's bracelet, snapshots from Jazzmattazz, as well as information on Maxwell's affair with the wife of a bank head.”

I was sick. The silence around the tables was deafening. The band was on a break, so the only noise was the din from chatter at tables farther away.

“Is this true, Lucy?” asked Tiggy.

I looked at her. Then my eyes went around the table. I watched as Oliver, Angelina, and everyone else waited for an answer.

“I did help Sofia take a picture of Victoria's bracelet. And I did tell Sofia that about Maxwell.”

My friends were shocked. I saw them look at one another and their jaws drop.

“But I never took money for it. And I never worked for
Gab!
That part is a lie.”

“Why did you do it?” asked Oliver quietly.

“I…I was just playing a joke on Victoria. She'd been so mean to me. It was a prank. I know it was wrong and I apologize from the bottom of my heart,” I said, looking Victoria in the eye. Her face showed no response.

“As for the Maxwell tidbit, I did tell Sofia, but as a friend. I never thought she would put it in the magazine.”

“Oh right,” said Sofia sarcastically.

“It's true! I told you that as a friend!”

“What about the other stuff? How come the editor says he paid you?” asked Maxwell.

“I swear on everything in my life that I did not take one red cent for this. I helped Sofia with one prank, that's it. She is the one who is on the
Gab!
payroll. Her father works there—they pay for her education, her clothes, everything.”

“That's such bollocks!” said Sofia.

“She reads the files in the admissions office, and she has a spy ring that takes pictures….” I added.

“No one believes you,” said Sofia, crossing her arms defiantly. The silence around the table seemed to confirm her statement. Desperate, I decided to bluff.

“I contacted your former school, Sofia. They can confirm everything. That you are just a low-level, low-rent girl who could never make it on your own so you have to take down everyone else.”

Sofia went off on a rant. “You little liar! You stupid, stupid, foolish girl….”

And then something funny happened. As she continued her rant, Sofia's real accent came out. Gone was the Queen's English—Eliza Doolittle was back! Everyone else noticed it before she did.

“What 'er ya lookin' at?” she said when she noticed everyone starting to laugh.

“Um, nice accent, Eliza,” said Maxwell with a sneer.

Sofia looked stricken. I expected her to freak out, but instead she burst into tears. I couldn't tell if they were real or crocodile.

“You all hate me! I never did anything to you!”

“Are you sure that's true?” asked Angelina with an arched eyebrow. “Because I don't believe you.”

“You're just a dumb inbred royal!” snapped Sofia, tears abating.

“And you're a fraud,” said Angelina evenly.

“Sofia Glenn?”

We all turned around and found the dean standing behind us in his white tie and tails, arms crossed.

“I received a box tonight with several tapes of you conspiring to bug this school, including tips about where your hidden cameras would be this evening.”

With students from other tables now gathering around us, he reached into the tiered candle and rose centerpiece and plucked out a small black rectangle no bigger than a quarter.

“The tips have all proven to be correct,” he said. “You have planted recording devices and lied and schemed with a trashy tabloid to denigrate our esteemed institution and students. Security!”

Three armed guards emerged from the crowd, grabbed Sofia's hands, and led her out.

Before they took her through the front doors, she turned and glared at me with dagger eyes. I was too stunned by what had just happened to do anything but watch her go. I looked around at my tablemates. I could tell they didn't quite know what to make of
me. No one spoke, so I decided to take the plunge.

“I am sorry, everyone. Sincerely. I apologize especially to you, Victoria.”

Victoria stared at me evenly. This was a make-or-break moment. But then she smiled.

“I'll forgive you. It actually was kind of funny seeing the bracelet in there,” she said with a smile.

“You got caught up with the wrong person,” said Maxwell, much to my astonishment. I couldn't believe this benevolent sentiment, especially coming from him. “It can happen to anyone.”

I was afraid to look at Oliver, but when I did he gave me a slight smile.

“That girl is as conniving as a fox,” quipped Victoria. “But I guess someone outsmarted her.”

Who could it have been?

Angelina, looking as poised and beautiful as ever in the candlelight, cleared her throat. “Oh, let's just say a
Friend
was looking out for you,” she said with a wink.

I looked at her, bewildered. “You?” I asked softly, amazed.

“I found a weird wire in my room a few weeks ago,” Angelina continued. “I had my family's own private detective look into it, and we found her prints everywhere. Then they did a thorough background check and found out she worked for
Gab!
and had fake names, a fake accent, fake everything!”

“Go, Ange!” said Victoria, who was now standing behind Tiggy. “That is so cool and Interpol of you!” The rest of the
Diamonds gathered around Angelina to congratulate her, and the crowd started to disperse. The mood seemed to be set by Victoria—everyone was ready and willing to forgive my gullibility for getting caught up with Sofia's shenanigans.

As I dried off the remainder of Van punch from my gown, everyone rose to hit the dance floor again.

“So,
friend
…,” Angelina said, smiling at me, “I'm so happy everything has turned around.”

“So you were my friend all along?” I marveled aloud. “Angelina, I'm so grateful!”

She leaned in, grin widening as she took my hand. “Well, my dear, as your cyber friend and also now your real-life friend, there's one more thing I have been meaning to tell you.”

“Uh-oh,” I said jokingly. “I think I've had enough surprises for one night.”

“Last one, I promise: Oliver is not my boyfriend. He's my cousin.”

What?

“Are…you…kidding me?”

“Nope. We're really like brother and sister.”

“But…I thought you two were together….”

“We are together. Practically all the time. He's one of my closest friends. Our mothers are sisters and he's like the brother I never had! But he likes you. And he knew about Antony's cheating with Chérie. Antony did the same thing last year with our little second cousin from Scotland when she wouldn't sleep
with him, and Oliver knew it.”

“Oliver tried to warn me…. I can't believe I didn't see it. Antony's so awful!”

“Well, his days here are numbered,” she said knowingly.

“How come?”

“Let's just say, friend to friend, that my private investigators put counterespionage devices in many places to see who was sending photos of me to the press. And let's say they just so happened to find many, many recordings of Antony and Chérie, which have been delivered to the dean's office tonight. I highly doubt the school would be happy with the student/employee affair. I doubt he'll be seeing us in Gstaad next semester.”

Incredible.

Just then, as the band finished their song, a famous DJ flown in from Berlin took to the turntables and everyone hit the dance floor. Angelina took my hand. “Come on, let's go dance! Everyone's leaving tomorrow for vacation, so we may as well party all night!”

Our whole class was out there shimmying together. Rioko spun me around and I was laughing, feeling so freed from the cloak of worry that had been hanging over me these last few weeks. I couldn't believe everything that had happened that night—Sofia was out of the picture, Antony had revealed his true colors…and I wondered did I dare dream that I had a chance with Oliver after Angelina's revelation? I looked around for him but didn't see him. After a half hour of dancing, Moabi yelled,
“After paaaartay!!!”
Everyone started hooting and cheering and ran to the cloakroom, where staff held out fur coats and beaded jackets. Outside, limousines were lined up to take everyone dancing.

I looked around, still not seeing Oliver anywhere.

“You coming?” yelled Tiggy through her limo window.

“Lucy! Get in!” said Victoria, tugging on her sable stole.

I wasn't sure what to do because there was only one person I wanted to see.

“Hey you!” I turned to find Angelina looking as glamorous as ever in her floor-length mink. “My cousin says he won't be at the club but that you'd know where to find him….”

I smiled brightly.

“You guys go ahead!” I yelled back to the Diamonds. “I'll see you at the dorm later.”

“Try tomorrow, honey!” said Iman. “Have fun!”

As the fleet of sleek cars pulled away to take my classmates to dance the night away, I stood still, the crisp moonlight twinkling over the majestic river. Yup, there was only one place I wanted to be. I made my way down the sloping hill.

I
wandered gingerly down the solitary footpath in my heels, reveling in the midnight air and the smell of wood-burning hearths. As I saw the flickering dim lights of Le Ciel, I got my first shiver of the evening—not because of the winter's heavy ice-laden frigidity, but because of the excited charge I got from knowing who awaited me inside.

Sure enough, as I peeked around the corner of the crowded tavern's inner room of golden wood paneling, I saw Oliver, fondue pot waiting.

“Well, hello,” he said, smiling.

“Hello,” I said, grinning back.

I wouldn't say there was any awkwardness between us, but now that we'd both kind of put out feelers via Angelina that we were into each other, there was some definite tension piercing our normal mellow interactions.

“So, I didn't know you had family at Van Pelt,” I teased.

“You never asked,” he replied coyly. “Have a seat.” I slid into the banquette beside him and looked at him, heart pounding.

“Look, Oliver, I hope you don't think I'm a scumbag like Sofia. I knew the second we played the prank it was a bad idea. I regret it so much.”

Oliver stopped me. “Look, we all make mistakes. You were honorable enough to own up to them and to get out of the situation. I have to own up to something also.”

Gulp. “Okay, sure, what's up?”

“Lucy, I feel awful for what happened early last month when I was so weird and didn't talk to you. Antony had been taunting me, saying you thought very little of me, and I thought maybe it was true, since you were spending all that time with him, obviously dating him.”

I was horrified. “Oh my gosh, Oliver! You must know that Antony was lying.”

“I suspected perhaps he was inventing these things, but then I saw you with him all the time and thought maybe you did despise me.”

“No way, it's…” I paused, blushing in the firelight.

“What?” he inquired, looking at me.

Okay…the plunge. “It's quite the opposite.”

As if reading my mind and knowing I would need reassurance after divulging that I was
madly in love with him
, Oliver took my hand in his and put it against his chest, then pushed my hair back from my face with his other hand.

“Lucy Peterson, I know it's only one month we'll be away for these holidays, but I will miss you. Very. Much.”

My pale pink blush had now fully blossomed into a dark peony hue and I gazed at this guy, gorgeous beyond fantasy, as he leaned toward me for the most passionate, all-enveloping kiss I'd ever shared.

Later that night, as we meandered hand in hand up the glittering snow-covered hill toward the dorms, after hours spent tucked away in our corner table, I marveled at how things had changed since I had first arrived at Van Pelt just a few months ago. This imposing campus now felt like home, and some of these wealthy, powerful, privileged guys and girls were now my friends—
real
friends, who trusted me and were willing to take a chance on me. I drew breath and exhaled, watching the misty air form in front of my face, amazed that despite subzero temperatures, I had never felt warmer.