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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The next morning, Kae stood near the closets, surveying the quiet, sun-dappled dorm room. Today was only Thursday, the first day of classes, but already the room looked lived in: books and papers everywhere, clothes heaped on the floor, makeup, shampoo and nail polish bottles strewn on top of desks, piles of notebooks and textbooks. She had arrived almost two days ago, but it still didn't feel like her dorm room, since she'd hardly had a moment in it alone.
Alex's bed was empty. She'd snuck in after all the commotion last night and must have gotten up early. There was an imprint in the mattress where her body had been. Robyn was still sound asleep, curled up in the fetal position.
Kae ran her hand over a pile of Robyn's cashmere cardigans. All of her clothes were beautiful, but this morning Kae felt awkward about borrowing any of them. Instead, she slipped on her own khaki skirt, her only button-down shirt, and a pair of ballet flats. She put on her Bridgeport blazer and assessed the look. Definitely Not Guilty.
She tiptoed into the hall and closed her dorm room door behind her. Next to Alex's note about studying in Teyana's room, someone had written SAVE JASMINE! in big letters on the marker board hanging from the door. There was also a drawing of what looked like a little pony in the bottom corner. Walking down the hallway she noticed that some of the other girls' marker boards had little ponies drawn on them, too. Boarding school was turning out to be full of pranks, mind games, and mysteries.
She wound her way along the ancient cobblestone paths that snaked through the Bridgeport campus toward Stansfield Hall, a massive brick structure that housed the administrative offices and a couple classrooms. Few students were awake yet, but the maintenance crew was tending to the soccer field and the landscaping and the air smelled like freshly cut grass.
Inside Stansfield Hall there were intricate plaster moldings of creeping vines and flowers on the walls, stained glass windows in the stairwells, and engravings in the wooden railings. Kae climbed the stairs to the third floor and walked to the very end of a stately, mahogany-floored hall. A brass plate on the closed office door read MICHAEL B. JORDAN. Inside, Kae heard giggling and took a step back.
"I've heard that one before..." she heard Alex say in an extremely flirtatious voice.
"I bet..." a male's voice replied. "So, um, listen, we have to talk to this student, so we won't be able to get to some of the admin stuff I wanted to discuss. Are you free for lunch today? We could deal with it then."
"I think so," Alex replied. "I'll meet you here?"
Kae knocked on the door. She heard papers shuffling and the clink of glasses.
"Come in," Mr. Jordan called out.
Kae strode into the office, which was cramped and messy. Alex sat on the edge of a brown leather couch, her hands folded in her lap, looking way too prim and innocent.
Mr. Jordan sat down at his desk chair and shuffled some papers. "Karrueche, right? Please, sit down." He motioned to the couch. Kae sat as far from Alex as she could. "This is Alexandra," he continued. "She's on Disciplinary Committee and helping me with some administrative things."
