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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"How come the women in here all have enormous boobs?" Alex asked as she flipped the pages of one of Yara's X-Men comics. She flicked a lock of hair out of her eyes. "Is that where they get their superpowers from or something?"
The two girls lay on their stomachs on Alex's silky fuchsia comforter, paging through a stack of Yara's comic books. Their chemistry lab had let out early—owing to an "experiment" by the group of geeks who were always huddled together in the library that had ended in a small explosion—and Alex and Yara had planned on using the time to study for their upcoming chem midterm. Their teacher, Mr. Shaw, hated his life and reportedly kept a tally of all the times he had made a student cry, so the test was practically guaranteed to be mind-blowingly impossible. But their study plan had lasted all of three minutes, before Alex flicked on her stereo and asked Yara to bring in some of her vintage comic books. Fortunately, Jasmine had a late-afternoon class on Tuesdays, so they had the room to themselves. Alex had made a point of memorizing Jasmine schedule and taking advantage of times when her eternally spiteful roommate wasn't around.
"I don't know," Yara admitted. "Lots of male illustrators, I guess."
"Typical." Alex was still completely bitter about what had happened with Quincy. They had been broken up for all of a week and he had managed to actually sleep with someone else. To be fair, she was the one who'd broken up with him. But at least she had managed to keep her pants on—more or less—and that was more than she could say for him. "Guys. All they care about is boobs, ass, and pussy." She'd already told Quincy that it was over for good. A few pleading e-mails had appeared in her inbox, begging her to talk, but she'd deleted them without so much as opening them. If he wanted to stay with her, well, he'd have to find some way to reverse time and undo his hookup with that hippie bitch, Jhene. Maybe he could look into that superpower.
"You should let some of that Quincy bitterness out," Yara advised, as if she could read Alex's mind. She wound a lock of curly black hair around her index finger. "Or it's going to eat away at you."
Alex looked up at her in surprise, once again astonished that five days ago she hadn't even known Yara's name. She'd just been the Girl in Black who lived in the room next to the broom closet and was in a couple of her classes. Then, after Jasmine had shown up to Saturday night's party wearing a sexy outfit from Yara's closetful of clothes by her designer mother, Yara had gone from quiet nobody to the cool girl. Cool girl who threw a Bridgeport mug of warm beer in sleazy Dave's face, Alex reminded herself. And now here they were: Yara lying on Alex's bed next to her, wearing a flouncy black-and-white polka-dotted skirt and a fitted white button-down, listening to music and examining bodies of superheroines. What a difference a few days made.
"I can't help it," Alex admitted, twisting her rose-gold stackable rings around her fingers. "I'm just so . . . angry at him."
"You know, when you think about him, your face gets really tense." Yara laughed as she turned over on her back. The corners of her eyes were accentuated with a teeny touch of Alex's eye shadow. She looked pretty—like she wasn't afraid of people actually noticing her anymore.
