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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When the word spread about a possible teacher infiltration, Jasmine had just been about to approach Aubrey and Rakim to thank them again for a lovely night. It was such a fucking treat to get to go out to a fancy dinner while the rest of the poor suckers in the dorm were stuck in the common room, watching reruns of Fresh Prince. She felt like she had simultaneously achieved so many things: Marymount was grateful to her for keeping quiet about the whole embarrassing lockdown situation, so he was even more in her back pocket now; she'd had the most amazing time flirting with Rakim—it was even kind of fun to flirt with boring old Aubrey, who seemed to get a thrill out of it too; and she'd had the most delicious food in all of upstate New York. Not bad for last-minute plans.
The two boys were standing in the first floor hallway, leaning on either side of the bathroom door, each holding a Bridgeport mug, looking like very diligent Owls. They looked kind of cute together—Aubrey, with his perfect hair brushed into place, wearing an Armani sweater over a button-down shirt, and gangly Rakim, some sort of ratty ski cap on his head, his braids poking out the bottom like straw. They were sort of like the Odd Couple.
She strutted down the hallway in their direction, her heels clicking against the polished marble floors. Both boys looked up at her. For as long as she could remember, Aubrey seemed to despise her. Now he wore that same glassy-eyed look she was used to getting from guys who were into her. Although it was flattering, she knew he just wasn't her type. Aubrey was wound a little too tight and probably was due for a stress-induced heart attack by age twenty-six.
As for Rakim...she definitely seemed to be making progress on getting him to fall in love with her. And she was enjoying it, too. Maybe a little too much.
Jasmine's phone buzzed just as she waved hello to the guys. She flicked it open and saw a text from Dave saying TEACHER ALERT. Shit.
"Someone's coming, you guys had better hide." Jasmine ran down the rest of the hallway and pushed open the door to the bathroom and the boys dashed in behind her.
"Gee, thanks for looking out for us, Sanders." Clearly Aubrey wasn't ready to let all of his bitterness go—good. She liked to see him conflicted. It kept things interesting. Calling her by her last name was a blatant attempt to try and convince himself that he saw her as just one of the guys—ha. Fat chance.
Jasmine blew him a kiss. "Thought you'd like to see the inside of one of these places." The bathrooms in Waverly were surprisingly large and had been updated a few years ago. They were a little more modern than the rest of the building, with three toilet stalls tastefully done in a dark oak, a long wall with a mirror and three sinks, and three shower stalls around the corner.
"It's so neat in here," Rakim remarked, his eyes running across the shelf of cubbies above the sinks where the girls stored their bath and shower things. She didn't tell him that things were definitely not usually this clean—but since they had nothing better to do today, the girls had made a point of straightening up their cubbies, wiping the crust off toothpaste tubes, removing stray tampons from view, and lining up their facial products in neat rows. "But wow. There's a whole lot of face shit in here." From one cubby, he picked up a bottle of Mint Wash and another water face toner. "What's all this for?"
"One's a cleanser and the other's a toner." Aubrey touched one of the bottles. "That's good stuff."
Jasmine giggled. Aubrey certainly didn't help himself sometimes. She knew he was sensitive and all, but it was still sort of weird that Aubrey knew more about skin care than she did. "That's mine. Put it back, please!"
Rakim lifted the bottle out of her reach. "No way. I want to try out this magic potion." He twisted off the cap of the toner and poured some into his palm, then slapped it to his cheek and spread it around like aftershave. "Do I look different? Am I beautiful now?"
"No," Aubrey replied at the same time Jasmine said, "Yes."
Aubrey rolled his eyes. "You don't exactly have Jasmine's delicate skin, you know."
My delicate skin? It was Jasmine's turn to roll her eyes. Aubrey trying to flirt with her sounded like Aubrey sucking up to her, and that was definitely not a turn-on. He'd have better luck sticking with the sarcasm.
"What's this?" Rakim peeked around the corner where the three shower stalls were tucked. The shower stalls were covered in beautiful cerulean blue tiles, donated by Keke Palmer's family, who ran a ceramics company in western Massachusetts. They were fairly spotless, as the cleaning staff came in on Saturday mornings, apparently unaffected by the lockdown. He swept aside the white nylon curtain and let out a low whistle.
"Shit. Our showers were last renovated in like 1945. It's like a spa in here," Aubrey commented jealously.
Rakim stepped inside the first stall. "So this is where it all happens?" He had a goofy grin on his face, like he was imagining all the naked girls who showered in that exact spot every day.
Jasmine stepped in with him. "This is the one I always use."
He raised his eyebrows. "Oh, yeah? How come?"
Jasmine shrugged and perched her toe on the soap dish that was built into the wall. "It's handier for shaving legs."
"Damn." Rakim shook his head. "You're right. That does make it handier. I wish we had one of those in our shower."
Jasmine giggled. She glanced up at his head, which almost hit the shower faucet. "How come you're wearing a hat?" she asked.
He pretended to rub soap over his body. "It's actually a hot-oil treatment for my follicles, it just looks like a hat."
Something about Rakim made Jasmine feel all goofy. As he dipped back his head, pretending to rinse his hair, Jasmine reached past him and turned on the faucet.
But he must have sensed what she was doing because just as her hand left the dial, he wrapped his arms around her waist and spun her around in front of him, ducking down and using her as a shield. She got a face full of cold water.
She shrieked and squirmed, but Rakim's arms were wrapped tightly around her. The water was freezing! Finally she was able to reach out in front of her and slam the dial back in place.
"You ass!" She twirled back around to face him, her hair and body completely drenched.
The bathroom door slammed shut. Aubrey must have left.
"Does the water always take that long to heat up?" Rakim's lips twitched a little as he tried not to smile. "Maybe you should call a plumber." He stepped back and leaned against the tile wall, his gaze admiring.
Jasmine glowered at him, her carefully curled and volumized hair now lying in wet strings in front of her face, and her dress, Yara's dress, beautiful and sexy before, now felt like a soggy pink Kleenex clinging to her skin. Somehow Rakim had managed to stay almost completely dry.
Not for long.
"You think that's funny?" Jasmine demanded, clenching her molars together to keep from laughing. "You think you're so smart?" Then she dove at him, throwing her soaked arms around his waist and pressing her wet face to his chest, rubbing back and forth to dry off her head. It was exciting, being this close to him—it was sort of like wrestling with a boy when you're a kid, and you get all excited but don't really know why.
Which, unfortunately, reminded her that Rakim was kind of a kid still. He was a freshman, so he was, what? Fourteen? Maybe fifteen. Jasmine shivered, and this time it had nothing to do with the cold water.
