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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After the teacher finally released Jasmine's advanced Italian class from their torturous lecture, Jasmine strode across the quad, the heels of her pumps stabbing into randomly scattered early fallen leaves. She'd only returned from her date with Michael a few hours ago, and she could still feel his lips on her neck. Even if she hadn't been able to shock him with Alex's Jersey girl secret, well, she had certainly done her part for Robyn. It would only be a matter of hours before Chris would be called into Dean Marymount's office to find Michael sitting there with a report that Chris had been in New York yesterday. Robyn would never have to see Chris again, and stupid sweet Kae would get exactly what she deserved. Jasmine had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling at the heady rush of power she felt. Jasmine Sanders was back.
She felt a pair of familiar eyes on her and turned to see a tattooed boy sprawled lazily on the steps of the chapel. A slow grin spread across Dave East's face when he noticed that he'd gotten her attention. Jasmine immediately changed direction and sauntered toward the chapel, enjoying the way Dave stared at her in her deep V-necked dress. The fine Italian silk fluttered against her skin, and Dave's eyes followed the sway of her hips as she strode up to him and placed her right foot on the bottom step. "What's up, East?"
"Just enjoying the scenery." Dave stretched his arms into the air. He wore an artfully distressed tee with the word SUPERMAN emblazoned across it.
Jasmine flicked a perfect pale pink nail against his cheek. "Like your shirt."
"Sit down," Dave offered, patting his lap.
"Nice try." Jasmine perched daintily on the step above Dave, her bare knees adjacent to his face. He stared at them for a moment before scooting over to make room for her. "Are plans under way for this weekend?" she asked.
"Ah, this weekend ... but of course!" Dave smacked his lips and rubbed his hands together. "I took the liberty of reserving two of the Boston Ritz's connecting club-level presidential suites. Views of the gardens from the king-size Jacuzzi."
"Mmmm. Sounds fun. I'll have to pack my bikini."
"Or not," Dave shrugged. "Up to you."
Jasmine smirked at him. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
"Do you need to ask?" Dave yawned and closed his eyes, obviously picturing Jasmine naked in a bubbling tub of steaming hot water, her blonde hair piled on top of her head.
She slapped him with the back of her hand. "Can you think about something other than me naked for five minutes?" she demanded, pleased, as always, with Dave's flattery.
"Only with great difficulty."
Jasmine leaned toward him and lowered her voice. "Who do you think's going to hook up this weekend?"
"Besides you and me?"
Jasmine rolled her eyes. "Enough."
"The obvious answer is Chris and little Miss Blasian." He was a little bitter that he'd only gotten to drunkenly kiss Kae—and that he barely remembered. He wouldn't mind getting his hands on that petite little body of hers. "If they haven't already, that is."
