Welcome to Bridgeport Academy, an elite boarding school in New York where glamorous rich kids don't let rules get in the way of a good time.
[ Based on the It Girl series by Cecily Von Ziegesar ]
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Robyn leaned up against the dusty wooden doors of the old stables, trying not to get dried horse manure on the heels of her brand new leather shoes. The weathered red barn sat next to a three-acre horse paddock, separated from the rest of the Bridgeport campus by a patch of densely settled pines. A whistle blew in the distance, and Robyn recognized the gruff voice of Coach Johnson, the girls' field hockey coach, yelling, "That won't cut it on varsity, ladies!" The first full day at school consisted of grueling eight-hour tryouts for the fall teams, but Robyn was exempt since she was already a varsity field hockey captain.
The sun was low in the late afternoon sky and Chris was walking toward her. He was wearing one of the old T-shirts he'd taken home from her house under his beat up maroon Bridgeport jacket. No tie, as it wasn't his style. There was a smudge of blue ink next to his left ear and a huge, sexy smile spread across his face when he saw her. She wanted him so badly. Maybe everything between them was okay after all.
"You could've at least changed your shirt," she teased, taking the hem between her fingers.
"Yeah, because I feel way underdressed next to you," he teased back.
"I'm not all that dressed up."
"Are too. Look at those shoes." He pointed. "I can imagine you standing in front of your closet, agonizing over your newest, sexiest pair. Right?" He smiled at her. "I'm right, aren't I?"
"Wrong," Robyn shot back, although he was, of course, right. It pissed her off that Chris knew her so well. And that he was smarter than she was. Actually, when it came down to it, everything about him made her simultaneously seethe and shudder with pleasure.
Chris lit a cigarette and ducked so that he was out of sight of Dean Marymount's house, a grand Tudor mansion right on the edge of campus. Robyn tossed her 22-inch bundles behind her shoulders. Why was he just standing there? Here they were, alone by the abandoned horse stables, while everyone else was finishing up sports tryouts. She could hardly wait to lie down in the hay and tear his clothes off.
"Missed you at the party last night," she whispered tenderly.
"Mmm. Yeah. I was really tired."
Okay, this was infuriating. He was still just standing there. "So, you want to come over here?" Robyn finally asked, pulling at his jacket.
"Just a sec." He jerked away slightly and took another drag.
"Never mind, then. Forget it." She backed away, pulling out her own pack of cigarettes. She stuck one in her mouth and tried to flick on her fluorescent green lighter but kept fumbling with the childproof lock.
"No, no, come on," Chris pleaded in a low voice, turning to her and throwing his cigarette on the ground. "Don't be like that..."
"Well, I don't know," Robyn started. "I mean, you—"
