Is Bridgeport big enough for Kae, Robyn, Alex and Jasmine? They're all beautiful, captivating, and a little bit crazy... but there can be only one It Girl.
[ Based on the It Girl series by Cecily Von Ziegesar ]
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After delivering gourmet sandwiches for lunch, dining services must have needed an easy one since they announced that for dinner, they would be ordering a giant stack of pizza boxes. No one seemed to mind. In fact, pizza was Jasmine's favorite meal before a big night of drinking. Nothing like carbs and cheese to prep the stomach for alcohol.
All afternoon, the girls had left the doors to their rooms—and closets—open, and everyone roamed around the floors, pawing through racks of clothes that weren't even their size, just in case they saw something spectacular. Jasmine had been through Teyana and Keke and Zendaya's closets, and she knew Robyn's like the back of her hand, but everything seemed boring. Dry. Conventional. Unsurprising. Her wardrobe had been picked clean by dozens of hands. She didn't mind sharing, as long as she got outfits as good as she gave.
Alex came storming into the room, an emerald green garment hanging over her arm. She didn't even glance at Jasmine as she tossed the dress onto her bed. She clicked on her stereo, flooding the room with the sound of Al Green. Could Alex be any lamer? Who liked seventies music besides the people who were actually alive in the seventies?
With a glare at Alex that was meant to be withering, Jasmine left the room, slamming the door behind her.
She sighed. 5:30—the boys, if they managed to find a way in, would be here in a couple of hours. She might as well check on the beer, the kegs probably needed new ice. Never before had the ice machine in Bridgeport's basement seemed so essential.
Yara's door was the only closed one on the whole floor. Jasmine knocked briefly before twisting the knob. Yara was sitting at her desk, books open in front of her. "Hello?" Jasmine called out.
Yara spun around in her chair. "Oh ... hey." She didn't look happy that Jasmine was there. Please. Jasmine was doing this nobody girl a fucking favor, allowing her to store the party refreshments in her room. No one even knew who she was before today. She could at least show a little gratitude.
"Just wanted to check on the kegs—you don't mind if we leave them here, do you?" Jasmine glanced around the spotless, tidy room. "It's just so clean in here. And no one would suspect you."
Yara dropped her arm over the back of her chair. She was still wearing the Bob Marley T-shirt she'd had on earlier. Hopeless. "Yeah, whatever."
Jasmine crouched near the bed and lifted the bedspread out of the way. She pressed one of her hands to the metal of the keg. Cool enough. She stood back up. All right, she could be a little nicer to this girl—after all, she hadn't exactly asked her before she'd stored the kegs in her room. "How come you're not dressed?" Jasmine inquired. "You're coming to the party, right?"
"Well..."
"Oh, come on!" Jasmine straightened up and for the first time glanced at Yara's open closet door. With the eye of a shopping expert, she took in the bright colors and expensive fabrics. Wait a second, whose stuff was this? The girl who wore only black had a closetful of clothes like these? In two quick strides, Jasmine was in front of the closet, pulling at a gorgeous dusty rose dress with a pleated waist and full, swingy silhouette. It looked like something out of the twenties. She held it up against her body. "Where did you get this stuff?" she exclaimed, already eagerly pawing at the other things.
