Tempted (21 page)

She couldn’t wait to talk to Callie, but Callie was who knew where. Jenny had thought she’d be home last night, but she’d never come back from her weekend away. Didn’t she have to go to classes today? Jenny had never imagined she’d be eager to talk to Callie again, but the need to clear the air and thank her profusely for saving her nearly expelled ass overwhelmed her. Why hadn’t Callie said anything?

“Are you going to dinner?” Jenny looked up to see Alison Quentin standing in front of her in the middle of the common room. She buttoned up her long white peacoat and pulled a red knit cap down over her silky black hair. “Come on.”

Dinner was the furthest thing from Jenny’s mind. “Uh, I’m not feeling too well. I’ll go to the snack bar later or something.”

Alison tilted her head in concern. “I’ll bring back an apple for you.” She waved a red-mittened hand as she disappeared out the door.

With a heavy sigh, Jenny pulled herself up from the cozy couch. What was she doing, getting all mopey because of a jerk like Drew? Anger flowed through her veins. She was going to throw on something really cute and go to the dining hall, she decided, and hopefully bump into Drew. She’d tell him off in front of the entire world. The thought brought a smile to her lips for the first time that day.

Jenny headed into the lobby and was startled to find Tinsley trudging toward the door, bundled up in a red Patagonia jacket and a pair of hiking boots. She wrapped a thick cream-colored scarf around her neck, zipping her coat over it. Jenny suddenly remembered how Tinsley had tried to warn her about Drew— which was nice, and surprising, considering how Tinsley had tried to get her kicked out of school.

“Hey.” Jenny stuffed her hands in the pockets of her jeans and tried to look unconcerned as Tinsley approached. Tinsley’s dark purple eyes flashed back at her. “You haven’t heard from Callie, have you?”

“Why?” Tinsley asked, a cold edge to her voice. She played with the remnants of a ski-lift ticket on the zipper of her jacket. Her family reportedly had a house in the Swiss Alps where they could just strap on their skis, step out the front door, and zip down the mountain.

“She’s not back yet.” Jenny crossed her arms over her too-big chest, always self-conscious about it in front of the perfectly proportioned Tinsley.

Tinsley raised her dark eyebrows and pulled a tube of Burt’s Bees lip balm from her pocket. “What do you care?” she asked, running the stick across her lips.

“She’s my roommate.” Jenny blew a stray curl out of her eyes. She had actually been kind of grateful for Callie’s absence all weekend because it meant she could be alone with Drew, but now she just wanted her roommate back. “I care, all right?”

Tinsley narrowed her violet eyes at Jenny, taken aback by her earnest tone. Who did this chick think she was? She stole Callie’s boyfriend, then stole
Tinsley’s
boyfriend, then stole
everyone
—and then had the nerve to say she cared about Callie? Any other time, Tinsley would’ve given Jenny a cold stare to let her know that she was about as significant as a piece of lint in the pocket of her Rock & Republic jeans. But recent events—capped by the jilting by her fellow Owls at the Cinephiles screening—had shaken Tinsley’s confidence. She sized Jenny up.

“I just got a desperate e-mail from Callie,” Tinsley leveled with her. She pushed her hair behind her ears and watched as Jenny’s eyes grew wide.

“Is she okay?” Jenny touched her hands to her cute little cheeks worriedly.

“No.” Tinsley eyed Jenny’s freckled cheeks. She wondered what Little Miss Innocent had done with Drew—or rather, what Drew had done to her. “She’s not at a spa. I just got an
SOS
from the torture camp in Maine where she’s being held, and I’m on my way to get her.” She let this last bit sink in. That’s right. Callie had reached out to Tinsley, and not Jenny, for help.

“I’ll come too,” Jenny answered quickly, already heading toward the stairs. “Let me grab my coat.”

“Uh, no.” Tinsley shook her head incredulously. “You’re not coming with me.”
No way in hell,
she wanted to add.

“Why not?” Jenny demanded, her hand on the banister.

Tinsley shrugged. “Because I hate you. And I’m pretty sure you hate me too.”

Jenny’s small face scrunched up. “How are you getting to Maine?”

Verena Arneval and Benny Cunningham ran down the stairs in a whirlwind of flying hair and scarves. “You guys coming to dinner?” Benny called breathlessly as she pulled open the front door, letting a burst of cold air in.

Jenny and Tinsley just stared at each other, Jenny’s soft brown eyes refusing to back down. “No,” Tinsley called over her shoulder to Benny. The door closed behind them.

“I’ll figure it out,” Tinsley assured Jenny, though she hadn’t yet. She’d Googled Whispering Pines and had found direcrions—and a list of customer reviews advising never to go to this rehab facility unless you knew how to build a fire from two sticks. But she still had to call a car service or something in order to get there—and it was unlikely that any car service would take her six hours away.

“I know someone who has a car,” Jenny insisted.

Tinsley narrowed her eyes. “Who?”

“I’ll tell you all about it on the way.” Jenny dashed up the stairs in triumph. “Deal?” she called down, her voice echoing in the stairwell.

The words
hell, no
were on Tinsley’s lips, but all she could do was nod her head. Defeated by Jenny again.

Jenny reappeared in a minute, this time in a bright red pea-coat that looked very Old Navy and a pair of tiny pink Keds. “Let’s go.” Tinsley followed Jenny across campus to the senior parking lot. “It’s the black Mustang.” Jenny pointed it out as they passed it.

“Ew. Drew’s car?” Tinsley glanced at Jenny.

“No, his roommate’s.” Jenny’s voice was bitter and angry, and for a second Tinsley wondered if things had fallen apart with Drew so quickly. She glanced over at the petite sophomore as they strode up to Baxter, one of the upperclass boys’ dorms. A wave of triumph passed over her. She’d warned her about Drew, and as always, it felt good to be right. But what exactly had he done to scandalize Little Miss Innocent?

Tinsley watched as Jenny strode up the front steps to Baxter, threw open the door, and waltzed down the hallway as if she belonged. Tinsley followed, a little impressed.

Jenny rapped her fist against a plain oak door on the first floor. For an awkward moment Tinsley stared at the faded green walls and thought about a guy named Jamie she’d once made out with in this hallway. The door opened, and an attractive guy with a mop of wet black hair looked groggily out of the darkened room, wearing nothing but a towel. His eyes were rimmed with red—either from sleep or serious intoxication—and then the smell of stale marijuana smoke hit Tinsley in the face.

“Hello, ladies.” Bed-head Guy squinted at them through the darkness, his well-toned chest bare. Tinsley couldn’t help taking it in appreciatively. She remembered this kid now— a cocky senior troublemaker type who hung out mostly with his own crowd, but showed up occasionally to crash the better Waverly parties. “This is like a dream come true.”

“Is Drew with you?” Jenny asked nervously, peering around him. Sebastian, Tinsley remembered. With a name like that, how could you go wrong? Too bad he was a little too greasy for her taste. But the car was a plus.

Seb stifled a yawn and tightened the towel around his waist. “I’ve been meaning to tell you—I think you’re too good for that douche bag.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.” Jenny rolled her eyes. “Listen, we need a favor.”

“I do favors.” Seb eyed Jenny, then turned to Tinsley, drinking her in from head to toe so obviously that she almost laughed. “Why don’t you two come inside and we can talk about it.”

“Actually …” Jenny bit her lip innocently, clearly trying to play the helpless-girl card. “We need to borrow your car.” She shook her head ever so slightly, letting her dark hair ripple in the dim hallway lighting. Tinsley furrowed her brow incredulously—had Jenny done that on purpose? Everything about her seemed so uncalculated. It pissed Tinsley off.

“No way.” Apparently, it wasn’t enough to move Seb. He gripped the edge of the open door with his hands and shook his head. “As much as I hate saying no to pretty girls who show up at my door in need, that I cannot do.”

“It’s an emergency.” Tinsley stepped forward, wishing she were wearing something more alluring than her puffy ski jacket. She hated to be reduced to begging, but without a car, there was no way they could get to Maine on a Monday night. The last bus had left Rhinecliff hours ago, and there wouldn’t be another one until morning. And how exactly was she going to rescue Callie on a bus, anyway?

“What are you going to do for me?” Seb asked suggestively.

Tinsley smiled sweetly at him. “Uh, how about I don’t kick your ass?” she asked with her lethal combination of honey and venom.

“And we’ll fill up the gas tank when we’re done,” Jenny offered, giggling. “That’s the deal.”

Seb sighed, and Tinsley could tell he was torn. She lowered her voice and stared right into his deep-set brown eyes. “Look, we’ll just owe you one … okay?”

“Oh, Christ.” He ran a hand through his thick dark hair, then let it fall back over his forehead seductively. He grinned back at Tinsley, apparently thinking of all the ways they could repay him. “I’ll meet you at the car.” He searched their faces one last time. “Unless one of you wants to help me get dressed.”

“We’ll meet you at the car.” Tinsley gave him a smirk and tugged at Jenny’s coat.

The door closed behind Seb, and the two girls made their way back to the parking lot in silence, their breath blowing clouds of steam in the chilly night air.

“I’m driving,” Tinsley said forcefully. No way in hell was she putting her life in Jenny’s hands.

Jenny laughed and glanced sideways at Tinsley. “That’s cool. I don’t really know how.”

The confession caught Tinsley off guard and she blurted out a laugh. “I guess that settles that.” She paused a beat. “How come you don’t know how to drive?”

Jenny smiled and shrugged. “I’m only fifteen,” she answered. “And I grew up in New York City. I can navigate, though. And I’ll DJ.”

“No bubblegum pop,” Tinsley warned.

Jenny wrinkled her nose in a smirk as Seb approached in a pair of black jeans, a black fleece thrown over his bare chest. He jangled the keys to his car.

“If there’s so much as a scratch … ,” he warned them.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jenny said. “We know.”

“And be sure to tell your friend Red what a good guy I am.” Seb backed away, watching as the girls slid into the car. Jenny blinked—did he know Brett from somewhere? Was that why he was lending them his car?

The inside of the car smelled like cheap cologne and greasy McDonald’s french fries. Jenny cracked the window. She couldn’t believe she’d agreed to spend hours and hours trapped in a car—this car—with Tinsley. But it was for Callie. Jenny’s brain was still racing to comprehend the fact that it was Callie who had saved her.

Jenny settled into the passenger’s side, flipping through the CD case just as she had when Drew had taken her on drives. The memory of Drew, charting and laughing with her and leading her to believe he was her savior when he was just a sleazy guy, made her stomach ache. She glanced over at Tinsley. Her perfect porcelain profile was intent on the road, and Jenny wondered for the first time how Tinsley had felt when she’d found out about her and Julian. Had she just been pissed off and insulted that he preferred a sophomore to her … or had she been hurt?

As if sensing Jenny’s gaze, Tinsley shot her eyes over to Jenny. “What?” she snapped testily, drumming her neat, clear nails against the steering wheel. “Having trouble figuring out the CD player?”

Well, here’s to new memories,
Jenny thought, and turned on the radio instead.

And no boys—at least for a few hours.

Brandon stared at his laptop, his hands poised over the keyboard. He should’ve known better than to trust Heath with any secret—especially one as embarrassing as the baby blanket. Even if Sage had thought it was sweet, he didn’t need every single person on campus making jokes about it. What if Sage got tired of fielding questions about whether or not Brandon needed his blanket with them when they hooked up, and decided the relationship wasn’t worth the trouble?

Brandon shook off the unpleasant thought and focused on the latest draft of his retaliatory e-mail, his fourth of the morning:

Arf, arf, BoW members. Unless you want your tacos with a side of pee …

Brandon hated the way he sounded over e-mail—he always came off as bitchy. Frustrated, he held down the delete button, watching his words disappear. The door creaked open behind him, and Brandon spun around, surprised to see Heath himself standing on Brandon’s dark brown throw rug. He was completely drenched, a dazed look on his face, as if he’d lost his memory and wasn’t sure who or where he was.

“Hey,” Brandon grunted neutrally before turning back to his computer. It was best not to let Heath know when you were pissed at him. It merely inspired him to piss you off even more.

Heath didn’t respond and plopped down on his bed, soaking clothes and all. Brandon glanced at him, curious. Drops of water slid from his hair down his neck. His skin looked pasty, and his usual smug expression had been replaced by one of bewilderment.

Brandon scrolled his e-mail down on the screen. “What’s up?” he asked, not really interested in the answer.

“Dude.” Heath choked on his words. “Kara just broke up with me.”

A chill ran down Brandon’s back. “What are you talking about?” he asked, wanting to know more but not wanting to appear eager.

“She just broke up with me,” Heath repeated quietly. “Just now. Out on the steps of Maxwell.”

Brandon absorbed what Heath was saying. He couldn’t help but wonder if it were some sort of elaborate joke, and he could feel his body bracing for the punch line. “What did she say exactly?”