CHAPTER 18
There was one thing I especially loved at Alderton-Du Ponte, and it was the Mimosa Morning brunches they held once a month. It’d been a bit since I’d been able to go, but Theo’s Saturday morning soccer games were over, and I finally, finally had a free Saturday morning.
And I didn’t love them because I played dress-up in Nellie’s clothes, or because it was an afternoon out of the house, or because I actually liked the plain flutes of orange juice they served to us minors.
No, I loved Mimosa Mornings for the drama.
“It’s a shame the Pembletons didn’t renew their membership after their month trial,” Ms. Jennings mused when the conversation had lulled.
She held her champagne flute like a wineglass, the plastic stem sticking between her fingers.
Plastic, because she’d developed a nasty habit of throwing them at people when she had too many.
“It seems they’re too uppity for this place. ”
“Or they were disgusted by someone’s lack of decorum,” Mrs. Conan replied under her breath, unable to wipe the twist of disgust from her face.
Mrs. Conan was, unfortunately, usually the recipient of Ms. Jennings’s champagne flutes, and eyed it warily.
“The immaturity on display at your birthday party was egregious.”
“Oh, dear, it’s impolite to talk negatively about your husband in public.”
I munched on a piece of sliced cucumber, rapt.
Mrs. Conan gasped. “My husband—”
“Puked in my birthday party’s punch bowl.” Ms. Jennings arched a brow, ignoring Nellie’s mom as she laid a hand on her friend’s arm. “Right? I might not remember much from that night, but that, I do.”
Dang. Jamie had bet that Dr. Conan would throw up first, but I’d bet on Mrs. Johnson. I wonder if he knew he won.
One of the waitresses brought another round of mimosas, setting down another plain orange juice flute in front of me. Everything felt so… prim and proper. The fundraisers Alderton-Du Ponte held often had dinners, but something about this atmosphere was so much more delicate.
Ivy would’ve loved it for the tea party.
Penn would’ve loved it for the gossip.
Nellie gently elbowed me under the table. “Don’t look too interested,” she whispered to me. “If you catch their eye, they’ll turn their attention to you next.”
“I hope they do,” I murmured back, reaching for another cucumber slice. “I’ll tell them about the heels you forced me to wear, and how my pinky toe is in the process of being amputated. I’ll drop it on one of their dinner plates.”
Nellie let out a really ugly laugh, drawing everyone’s attention to us.
“What’s so funny, dear?” Mrs. Conan asked her, voice tight.
“Oh, I just—I had a… tickle in my throat.” Nellie gave her signature Alderton-Du Ponte smile at the woman. “Daisy, though, actually was saying—”
“It’s a shame Mrs. Giovanni isn’t here,” Raelynn said suddenly, cutting Nellie off as if she hadn’t started speaking.
Everyone’s heads now swiveled toward her.
“I’m sure you and her would’ve loved catching up, Daisy.
It’s been a while, hasn’t it? I mean, you and Dalton broke up last summer, so you probably didn’t see his mom much after that. ”
The table went quiet. Man, Raelynn and Lydia really did body swap.
Or maybe that’s just how they both got when they felt threatened—catty.
“I ran into her at Senior Night, actually,” I said finally, tracing shapes into the tablecloth.
I imagined a girl, lying on her side, eyes shut, maple syrup pooling around her. “It was lovely.”
I could see the gears working in Raelynn’s head as she tried to come up with another probing question.
“Lydia,” Nellie piped up, looking across the table pointedly. “Are you still in touch with Carter at all?”
“O-Oh, yes!” Lydia caught on, swallowing her bite of sandwich hard. “I am, in fact. Here and there. It might not have worked out romantically, but he’s a great friend. Yours, too, right, Nellie?”
Nellie nodded.
“Friends,” Ms. Jennings muttered woefully. She twirled the stem of her mimosa flute, nearly losing her grip on it. “I’m not living vicariously through you youths for boring friendship. Where’s the drama? The excitement? The rendezvouses?”
“Ms. Jennings, we can’t just steal each other’s boyfriends or anything.” Raelynn gave a laugh, and I could hear the threadiness in it. Then, lower, she added, “Maybe some of us can, I guess.”
Dang, she’s really going for the throat—
“Daisy, did you tell everyone that you’re dating Jamie?”
I sucked in a breath now as all the heads swiveled to me, their eyes wide with surprise. “You’re dating Jamie?” Mrs. Conan asked, shocked.
“Jamie?” Mrs. Holland echoed, sitting at Mrs. Conan’s side and blinking in confusion. “He’s interested in dating? I always thought he was the sort who—well, you know—keeps to themselves—”
“Maybe she got him out of his shell,” Ms. Jennings mused, sitting back in her seat and lifting her flute to her lips. “That’s what I’m talking about. A secret relationship. Scandalous! Give us the juicy details, Daisy.”
Oh, right, the juicy details. Did she mean like how he lifted me onto a dresser like he was some hero in a romance novel?
Or maybe how he knelt down in front of me and kissed my palm?
Or, actually, maybe she’d want to know how his hands had held my hips as we’d danced together, until we both shared the same breath?
Knowing Ms. Jennings, she’d want all of the above. In detail.
Yeah. Maybe I didn’t want everyone’s attention on me.
“It’s… recent.” I looked at Nellie. Please, jump in, I thought to her, but my best friend pretended to be too focused on stuffing a turkey finger sandwich in her mouth, leaving me to the piranhas. “Um. We thought we’d… try it out.”
“Try it out,” Ms. Jennings echoed, wrinkling her nose. “Well, that’s distinctly less romantic than I’d been hoping for. Alice, did you know?”
I froze, half afraid to look at Nellie and Jamie’s mom, half afraid of her answer.
“Of course I did,” she replied breezily, and when I got the courage to look over, I found a soft smile on her face.
“Only recently, though. They’d been keeping it quite a good secret.
” Her eyes found mine, curving and conspiratorial.
I looked to Nellie, who gave the barest nod. I filled her in.
I suddenly wanted to flee the table, though. It was far more entertaining to soak up the drama, like watching a TV show; far less entertaining to be at the center of it.
Especially with the way Raelynn was looking at me. “What will you do in the fall?” she asked tightly. “When Jamie leaves for New York, and you’re still here?”
“Ever heard of long-distance?”
“It didn’t work out for you the first time.”
Nellie sucked in a low gasp, but it was Lydia who whispered, “Raelynn.”
She didn’t even have the excuse of a mimosa making her tipsy. Her eyes were sharp on me, color high in her cheeks—and, after another beat, I realized there was a sheen to her eyes.
I set my napkin on the table. “I’m going to run to the bathroom,” I told Nellie, catching her eye. Give me a second.
The Bestie Telepathy was working in full force. “Pop in and say hi to Jamie while you’re at it. He’s hiding in the library, and he’d probably appreciate it if you snuck him a snack.”
I plucked one of the cream puffs from the tea tower in the middle of the table, setting it into a new napkin. As I walked away, I could hear Ms. Jennings’s light, cheerful voice. “See, this is what I’m talking about. It’s like watching a little soap opera, isn’t it?”
Nellie’s mom shushed her.
I hobbled down the cobblestones in the too-big heels Nellie had lent me, biting my lip as I did so, praying to God that I wouldn’t fall on my face.
I was not used to heels bigger than two inches, and I was sure this pair was four.
I strained, too, as I followed the rosebushes toward the building, listening for any sound behind me.
And if I guessed correctly, any second now—
“Daisy.”
Just as predicted. I stopped walking, turning around to find Raelynn a few paces behind me. The wind stirred her strawberry blonde hair, and she tucked it furiously behind her ears. “Raelynn,” I began first, cradling the cream puff in my palm. “Listen, I know—”
“Know what?” she snapped, blinking fast. I’d been right about the sheen in her eyes at the table—tears were building there, making them glassy. “Know that dating Jamie when I called dibs was a crappy thing to do?”
Dibs. On one hand, I felt for her. I had known she’d had a crush on Jamie, but I hadn’t realized it’d been so strong. On the other hand, the entitlement to him—and the snotty attitude—was really starting to rub me the wrong way. “He doesn’t like you like that.”
“Did he tell you that?” A small, livid line formed between Raelynn’s eyebrows. “Did he tell you that we’ve been meeting in the library for every single ADP event for years now? Did he tell you we’ve been buddy reading a book together?”
“What?” I blinked, taken aback. “You’re… you’re reading a book together?”
I could kind of brush off her claim to meet in the library for every event, knowing how often Jamie complained about her seeking him out, but buddy reading a book—outside of book club?
Did they text each other about the book?
Call each other? Exchange notes? Jamie had asked me to read one of his books before, but they were so big and confusing.
When he’d stopped asking me, had he started asking Raelynn?
“You don’t know anything. You think I don’t see exactly what you’re doing?
” Raelynn stepped up closer to me, and with Nellie’s heels on, we were nearly eye-to-eye.
Her tears still hadn’t fallen, but they made her blue eyes bright.
“You’re only using Jamie to make Dalton jealous.
You’re one of those girls. The ones who play with guys’ hearts. ”
“I-I’m not—”
“You shouldn’t lead Jamie on. Not when there’s someone who actually cares about him.”
“I care about him.” I shook my head. “I like him.”