Bridgeport Academy 2

23

If the sight of Jasmine and Rakim fawning all over each other hadn't been enough to make Aubrey want to vomit, the sound of them having a water fight or wet t-shirt contest or whatever they hell they were doing definitely was. Aubrey stormed out of the girls' bathroom, furious at himself for being, once again, a horrible judge of character. What was it about Jasmine that made everyone always so willing to accept her flaws? Just because she was beautiful? There were plenty of girls at Bridgeport who were prettier than Jasmine—okay, maybe not plenty. But a few. Or at least, Robyn. But only Jasmine had such a devoted following. Freshman girls aspired to be her; even teachers, and not even just the ultra-slimy ones like Mr. Jordan, seemed to be in awe of her. Why? Because of her freaky blue eyes that seemed to have some sort of x-ray vision into people's minds? Maybe she was a mutant. His comic book freak roommate certainly seemed to think she had some sort of sexual superpowers.

"Whoa!" Aubrey cried, almost tripping over his own feet as he skidded to a stop. Standing in front of him was a pretty young woman in a black leather jacket and tight gray wool skirt that skimmed the tops of her tan leather Doc Martens. Her black cat's-eye glasses were perched sexily about halfway down her nose, and she looked through them at Aubrey quizzically. Shit. "I was just, um, just ..."

"Using the bathroom?" The girl's face curled into an amused grin. On closer inspection, it was clear that this was a teenage girl and not a teacher, as he'd first suspected. Her face was definitely too young, and she had a single silver hoop earring perched on the top of her right ear. Her features were strong: the kind of perky nose and dramatic cheekbones that cameras love, and Aubrey found himself wondering if she'd ever been in a Gucci eyewear ad because she looked vaguely familiar. "That's not a crime, you know."

"So..." Aubrey tried to regain his composure. "I take it you're not a teacher?"

"Now you're catching on, Einstein." She tossed her head a little, and Aubrey saw that the underside of her black hair was dyed blonde. Sexy. The Doc Martens were not his thing but on her they looked kind of punk rock hipster badass. 

Or maybe he was being influenced by those dark brown eyes that had zeroed in on him. This was definitely not a Bridgeport Owl. He cleared his throat.

"So why are you here?"

The girl pursed her lips together. There was a scar about an inch below her mouth. Insanely, Aubrey couldn't tear his eyes away from it. It was like a magnet or something.

"Looking for someone," she answered with a shrug. "You haven't, uh, seen Quincy Jones... have you?" A slow blush crept over her cheeks.

Interesting. Quincy didn't even go to this school and his fans were tracking him down here? Wait till Alex found out. Word was that Quincy was blowing off all the St. Lucius homecoming parties to sneak over to Waverly and hang out with her, and Alex was probably not looking forward to having to share him with anyone else. 

Definitely not someone this cute.

"I hear he's around, but, um ... I haven't seen him." Which was the truth. Normally Aubrey would have been bummed that she was asking about another guy, but he was still pretty sure she was flirting with him. He leaned against the peach-colored wall and gazed up at a water stain on the peeling plaster ceiling. A giggle escaped from the bathroom, but Aubrey ignored it. "You go to St. Lucius?"

The girl nodded and glanced down the empty hallway. She tapped her long, unpainted fingernails against the dark wood molding around the bathroom door. "Are all your parties this, um, wild and crazy?"

"Nah, sometimes they're boring." Aubrey smiled with closed lips and ran his tongue over his teeth, just in case she hadn't actually been flirting with him but instead had been transfixed by a piece of food in his teeth. When he was sure it was safe, he smiled. "I'm Aubrey, by the way."

Her slanted, dark eyes returned his inviting stare. "I'm Jhene."

"My dog's name is Jhene!" Aubrey blurted before realizing that maybe it wasn't the smoothest thing to say. But it just came out, and he did miss his family's Labrador—she was just about the only thing that made going back home to Westport for Christmas and vacations even remotely bearable. He certainly wasn't going to say it, but now that he thought of it, Jhene the girl's liquidy brown eyes did kind of remind him of Jhene the dog's. In a good way, of course. God, he was lame.

"No kidding?" Jhene actually laughed—a sweet melodic sound that reminded Aubrey of the way the first few notes seemed to burst to life off the strings of his violin. Cut the poetry, Aubrey. Concentrate. Don't make any more stupid remarks while trying to flirt. "It's not, like, a poodle or anything, is it? I don't want any of those prissy ass dogs giving my name a bad rap."

"She's a shepherd-Lab mix, and she looks pretty tough when she's tearing apart the Sunday Times." Aubrey watched in awe as Jhene slid a wisp of curly hair behind her ear and pushed her glasses back into place, all in one smooth motion. There was something so sexy about girls who could wear glasses with confidence. "Not prissy at all. In fact, I once saw her kick the shit out of our neighbor's dog."

Jhene pretended to think about it, scratching the nape of her neck with her right hand. "I guess that's all right." She shifted her weight from one foot to the other and toyed with the zipper on her jacket. "So what do you say we get this party started?"

Aubrey stared at the zipper for a second, thinking, maybe she was talking about...taking off her clothes? What kind of crazy girl was she? He almost stopped breathing. 

But then she caught him staring and poked his stomach with her index finger. "I didn't mean that, you dirty boy." Her eyes sparkled. "I meant, let's go wake everyone up." Immediately she stalked over to the closest dorm room, winked at Aubrey, and gave it a sharp knock.

After a minute, a timid-looking girl opened the door and peeked out.

"Did you know that there's a party going on out here?" Jhene demanded, her voice stern and full of authority. Aubrey watched her profile from afar.

"Uh—uh, no!" the girl stuttered, even though it was clear she was wearing party clothes. "I didn't know about any party."

Jhene placed both hands on her slim hips. "Well, why the hell not?" She burst into laughter, and Aubrey couldn't help joining in. She had so much energy. The girl stared at both of them before clutching a hand to her heart. 

"Oh my God, you gave me a fucking heart attack." She quickly dashed into her room and reappeared waggling her empty Bridgeport mug. "I ran out of beer, like, ten minutes ago, and I've been dying in here."

Feeling completely relaxed in a way he'd never felt before, Aubrey led the way down the hall, pounding on all the doors, scaring the kids hiding inside before dragging them out to the party again. He and Jhene raced up to the second floor. As his Adidas sneakers slammed against the marbles steps and he glanced over at the amazingly funky girl clomping up the stairs in her boots beside him, he wondered where the hell she'd been his whole life.