Chapter Fourteen Julia #3
Gahhhhhh, idiot! I wanted to roll my eyes at my stupid big mouth, but it’d been impossible to keep it closed when the mean girl was wearing what appeared to be a diamond-encrusted headband.
I heard a couple of people laugh at that—thanks, guys—but things did not get better for me after that.
Oh no.
Because everyone started calling me “New Money.”
To my face.
It was no longer a whisper.
When I accidentally bumped into a guy on my way to lunch:
“My bad, New Money.”
When I held the library door open for the girl behind me: “Thanks, New Money.”
When I passed out papers in chem class: “I still need one, New Money.”
The name followed me around all day long. Accompanied by cocky smiles, sneering looks, and piercing giggles.
Why is everyone here so awful??
I somehow made it through the day without melting into a puddle of tears, but my face must’ve showed exactly how close I was to that when Donovan and Jasmine met me at the exit saying, “You’re coming with us.”
Ten minutes later, I followed as they strolled through Zabar’s, where we’d gone directly after school because Donovan needed chocolate babka.
I had no idea what babka actually was. Cake, maybe…?
“It’s totally a jealousy thing,” Jasmine said as she looked at the cheese behind the glass. “You have the audacity to interest the guy who’s never been interested in them and they can’t handle that.”
“No one is jealous,” I said, picking up a package of crackers. “Trust me.”
My mood was improving by the minute, mostly because it felt amazing to be with people who didn’t hate me after being at the academy all day.
And also because Zabar’s was the “Happy Thanksgiving back” market from the movie You’ve Got Mail.
My brain was geeking out the entire time as I pictured Kathleen Kelly trying to use her card in the cash-only line.
And as someone who’d spent her entire life helping out in a market, I was in awe of their inventory and couldn’t imagine what their ordering days must look like.
I mean, the cheese alone in this place.
“Yeah, but aside from his heavy flirting, Damion doesn’t really do the Gardenwood social scene,” Jasmine said as we headed for the checkouts.
“He goes to the occasional party with Beckett, and he’s dated a girl or two over the years, but he’s kind of a mystery because, for the most part, he avoids everyone after hours. ”
“Yeah, it’s more of a ‘what does she have that we don’t’ thing that’s pissing everyone off,” Donovan said, putting her groceries on the belt.
“Agreed,” Jasmine said, nodding. “How dare you, someone who isn’t good enough to fit in at the academy, nab one of their finest?”
Jasmine was blunt and I knew she meant no harm, but her description of me stung.
Not good enough to fit in.
Because I felt that label crushing me like a fist every moment I spent traversing the halls of the academy. Every look, every whisper I couldn’t quite make out, every snarky giggle of New Money, seemed to repeat that sentiment.
Not good enough to fit in.
“I haven’t nabbed Damion, for the record,” I said as we left the store and started walking down the block. “We’re just friends.”
Ha! It was almost hard to say that with a straight face.
Friends.
As if.
“Speaking of that,” Jasmine said, sounding excited, “my mom said that his mom is definitely hosting the ball this year and will definitely be forcing him to do the season.”
“Shut up!” Donovan’s mouth dropped open and her eyes got huge. “Seriously? He’s for sure going balling?”
“Gross, let’s not make that a thing,” Jasmine said with an eye roll as the light changed and we started crossing. “And yes. The Rutledges are hosting the Age of Innocence ball, which means—”
“Which means that Damion and his date are going to be the first dance of the night, where everyone stands around and watches them in awe,” Donovan said on a gasp. “Holy shit—that could be you!”
Sounds like a nightmare to me, I thought, but just said, “Trust me, it will not be me.”
While we walked, we tore into the babka, which was so good I could’ve eaten the entire loaf myself. I wolfed down the bread and listened as they described the theme of this year’s ball.
As someone with a book obsession, I liked the idea of the book theme.
I might be ass at math, but I loved literature.
Thrillers, romance, true crime, horror, classics—I was a gimme all kind of reader.
Because there was just something about getting lost in another experience, in forgetting all about your life while riding along on someone else’s journey, that was the sweetest escape. I mean, after the day I’d had, I couldn’t wait to run up to the library when I got home and lose myself.
Yet the fact that someone was using The Age of Innocence—a book that explored the falseness of high society—as the theme of an extravagant ball seemed wild to me.
But as Jasmine and Donovan talked enthusiastically about the gowns they were having made, squealing as they used words like “bustles” and “corsets,” I figured maybe I was guilty of overthinking.
I was likely the one missing the point, since I knew nothing of the season whatsoever.
Thank God.