Chapter Seven
SEVEN
I meet up with Isolde for math study, and we go to her room.
If there’s a trick here, I don’t see it.
It feels like all the other times I’ve started a new school and one of the quieter girls has offered help.
I’ve found some real friendships that way.
I won’t jump and say this is another one of those possibilities, but I like what I see of Isolde.
She’s shy, kind, and patient, and by the end of the hour, she’s calmed my fears that I’m in over my head at Westdale.
I think I can get up to speed with some cramming, though Isolde offers to help, and I may take her up on that, if more for the companionship than the tutoring.
When you’ve been the new girl as often as I have, you learn how to spot opportunities for friendship and you know to take them when they come.
I head to my room to get ready for dinner, only to realize I’m not sure what “getting ready” entails at a posh private school. Do we change clothes? Or is that a stereotypical rich-people thing that no seventeen-year-old actually does?
I decide just to “freshen up,” as Mom would say, and I start by trying on the lipstick Allegra gave me. Bright pink is one way to describe it. Bubblegum pink is another. I’m going to look like a twelve-year-old, but screw it; I can wipe it off if it’s awful.
It’s not awful. It actually looks really good. Huh.
I leave the lipstick on, brush my hair, and then head out. The main level is still empty, and I wander around for a few minutes. I’m heading back toward the dining hall when a guy walks straight into my path.
He’s white, with dark hair and built like a football player—broad shoulders and biceps shown off by short sleeves. His gaze trips over me, in a cold assessment that has my skin crawling.
“New girl, right?” he says. “You looking for the dining hall?”
“No, I’m fine thanks.”
“Well, if you need a tour—”
“Done,” a voice says. “By me. Now run along, Jayden. I’ve got this.”
Jayden turns and fixes Theo with a look that would have set my stomach twisting. Theo meets it with an all-teeth smile. He waits until Jayden leaves and then walks over to me.
“Jayden,” I murmur. “That’s Natalia’s boyfriend.”
“Boyfriend, guard dog, minion. I suspect he was sent to get a look at the new competition.” He nods toward the dining hall. “Let’s grab a table.”
“Allegra invited me to sit with the Liliths.”
“Works for me.”
He steers me in. Allegra is already there with Isolde and Polly. I take a seat next to Isolde, and Theo pulls out the one on my other side.
“Lilith table,” Allegra says to Theo.
“I see that.”
He sits down.
Allegra looks from me to Theo and then says, “If you’re implying she needs protection from me, I would suggest she needs to be more concerned about the boy who has very obviously staked his claim.”
“Claws in, Allegra,” Theo says.
Before she can answer, servers start passing out dinner. As Ms. Dimitriou explained, there are two menu choices each day, and you select at the beginning of the week. Tonight’s options are pecan-crusted chicken breast and pan-seared salmon. I’d picked the chicken.
An appetizer salad comes first and everyone waits until our whole table has been served before we begin to eat.
“Do you have a date yet for the Quartz Gala, Theo?” Polly asks. “There’s a poll online, you know.”
“Oh, I’m sure there is. And don’t worry. Once I’ve picked my plus-one, you’ll be the first to know.”
She jabs her fork his way, beaming. “You are the best.”
Theo turns to me. “Polly is an influencer.”
Is it possible for a growl to be cheerful? Then that’s the noise Polly makes. “Didn’t I just say you were the best? Do you want me revising that?”
“Sorry, Pol.” He looks at me. “Polly is an online personality. And she is…” He bows his head with a theatrical wave. “Amazing.”
“She really is,” Isolde say. “Her Instagram has over fifty million followers.”
I blink, unable to even conceive of that.
“Polly is exceptional,” Allegra says, with the air of a queen making a pronouncement. “She has parlayed her online fandom into a foundation with a seven-figure income, ninety percent of which goes to charity.”
“Wow,” I say. “That’s…wow.”
“It’ll be a hundred percent to charity someday,” Polly says.
Isolde swishes an arugula leaf through some salad dressing. “Why don’t you take Polly to the gala, Theo? It’d be great exposure for both of you.”
“Hell, no,” Polly says.
Theo thumps his fist to his chest. “Straight to the heart, Pol.”
She rolls her eyes.
He leans toward me. “Once again, my pesky Y chromosome keeps me from all the fun.”
“I don’t mean like that,” Isolde says. “You could go as friends.”
Polly shakes her head, pigtails bouncing.
“Doesn’t matter. People would say it’s proof I actually do like boys, and that I’m pretending to be a lesbian to spite Daddy Dearest. So, no.
Theo will take some lucky person as his date, and I’ll get the scoop and he’ll appreciate the big reveal coming from a friend. ”
“I always do,” he says. “Because you are? The. Best.”
“Right back atcha.”
They grin at each other. Then Polly waves her fork at me. “You, Miss Heiress, do not have an online presence. You’re a ghost.”
“It’s not my thing.”
Theo leans to clap his hands over Polly’s ears. “She didn’t say that.”
“I don’t mean like that,” I say. “I just…” I shrug. “I don’t do anything internet-worthy. No one wants pictures of me studying. Or reading books. Or taking long walks by myself.”
“That was before you were the Chamberlain heiress,” Polly says.
“Now you get to choose what’s internet-worthy.
You’re a hot girl who’ll inherit a fortune.
You can make reading sexy if you want. Promote literacy.
Chat up your favorite books. Take a stance against book bans.
You set the tone. First, though, you need to let me debut you. ”
“Debut…?”
“Launch you on socials. We need a strategy. Leave it all to me. We’ll do a quick interview so your bios are authentic, and then we’ll hold the profiles back until I launch you, when—boom—hot heiress appears from the ether. It’ll be a moment.”
“Polly?” Isolde says. “We adore your enthusiasm, but you’re scaring poor Liliana.”
“Nah,” Theo says. “The only part that’s scaring her is the repeated use of the word ‘hot.’ I think Lil would rather lean into her brains and her accomplishments.”
“No,” Allegra says, with that air of pronouncement again.
“A girl doesn’t need to pick between being hot or smart or accomplished.
She can be all of those things. If she chooses to emphasize one over the other, that is her choice.
And if the adjective she likes is ‘hot,’ that is also her choice. You don’t make it for her.”
Theo lifts his hands in surrender. “I stand corrected.”
“Theo loves being called hot,” Polly says. “It’s his favorite adjective. You know why?”
“Because it means everyone underestimates him?” I say. “Dismisses him as a pretty boy?”
Theo grins, just for me, and I feel as if I’ve won something. “I make such a good pretty boy, though, don’t I? It’s the same reason Polly loves being called silly.”
She rounds her eyes and bobs her head side to side, blond pigtails swinging. “Silly. Vacant. Dumb blond. Waste of space. That’s me.”
“Then she chews them up and spits them out,” Isolde says.
Polly’s blue eyes go even wider. “Never! That would be so mean! I’m a nice girl.”
“Tell that to the trolls you doxed last month.”
“Only because Daddy Dearest sent them after me, and I cannot ignore that.” She fake pouts. “He’s the mean one, not me.”
This is the second reference to her father, which I think means I can ask who he is, but Allegra speaks instead, saying to me, “I would strongly suggest you consider Polly’s offer.
And consider it soon. News of your being here will break.
None of us will do it. I suspect Theo is already passing along word that whoever outs you will ‘disappoint’ him. ”
“So bad,” Polly says. “It’s like Puritan shunning or Regency cutting. Socially? The worst.”
Theo only rolls his eyes.
“But someone will eventually decide the engagement stats are worth upsetting Theo Dubois,” Allegra continues.
“Once that happens, if you don’t have an online presence, the imposters will creep from their holes.
If you’re online—set up by Polly—you’ll be verified.
She can fast-track that. You need to claim your online identity before anyone else does. ”
I turn to Polly. “I’m feeling overwhelmed right now, but I would like to discuss it at some point.”
“Whenever you want,” Polly says. “And I will promise you the biggest, friendliest launch ever.”
—
After dinner, Allegra says, “You’ll come to my room. We need to talk,” and no one sees anything wrong with such an imperious summons. Even Theo just shrugs.
“Come back after, and we’ll chill in the lounge,” he says. “I’ll help you put some more names to faces.”
We head up to the third floor, past my door to Allegra’s.
Earlier, Ms. Dimitriou had said we could refurnish our rooms, and nothing in Allegra’s is stock.
Surprisingly, she’s downsized to a twin bed, but that seems to be so she can have more space.
There’s an armchair and what looks like a drafting table, covered in papers.
“I want to find you another lipstick,” she announces when we’re inside. “Your skin tone needs less yellow, more red.”
I follow her to the bathroom, still wary. She opens a cupboard and pulls out an unwrapped tube of lipstick and also an unwrapped mascara.
“Try these.”
I look at the cupboard, which holds more new makeup than a pharmacy.
“They send me things all the time,” she says. “As if I’d wear any of it.”
I tense, presuming she’s saying those are beneath her standards but fine for me. Then I see her own makeup neatly arranged on a shelf. Every item is a brand I’ve only ever seen locked away, even in the upscale beauty shops where Mom liked to browse.
Simple gold containers with black script.