Scene Two
“So we’re going to Malibu this weekend,” Charlie says. She has Lauren’s three-ring binder, the one she uses for SAC, and she’s flipping through it.
We’re in Olivia’s room on her bed, a gigantic box of Twizzlers between us.
After I pulled myself together post-bio and told them what happened, Charlie suggested we cut sixth and seventh periods and leave early.
Usually I wouldn’t be into this, given the Stanford plan, but today it seems to make sense.
Olivia, per usual, was not difficult to convince. She’s not so worried about college next year, mostly because college isn’t her thing. It’s not that Olivia is a bad student, it’s just that school isn’t really her priority. It doesn’t have to be.
Olivia is standing in front of her mirror modeling a top she got over the weekend. It’s purple with white stripes and accentuates her boobs.
“Cute,” I say.
“Charlie?” Olivia asks. She turns sideways and sends the mirror a seductive stare.
“Mhm,” Charlie says, not looking up. “Guys, seriously, I think we need to go.”
“I’ll tell Ben,” Olivia says. She lifts her shirt up and over her head and stands there in her bra.
It’s pink and brown with a bow in the middle.
I’m pretty sure her underwear matches. Olivia always buys sets.
It’s her thing. Like a seven, except only Charlie and I know about it.
And maybe a few girls in gym class. Ben?
Charlie tosses her binder down and glares at Olivia. “I don’t think you get what’s going on here.”
“What?” Olivia asks. Her hands are on her naked hips.
“Ben is going to want to bring Rob,” Charlie says.
Olivia wiggles her nose and sighs. “We’ll just tell him not to.”
“No,” I say. “I don’t want him to think this is a problem. I don’t want him to think anything.”
Olivia shakes her head. Charlie nods.
“It’s okay,” Charlie says. She’s talking slowly now. “You’re allowed to feel totally screwed over.”
“Look, we don’t need to talk about this anymore. Like I said, he was never my boyfriend. We had one date, that’s all.”
“Okay,” Charlie says, but I can tell she’s not convinced.
Charlie has an impeccable BS detector. One time she busted Olivia for ditching our plans to see Pretty in Pink at this indie theater downtown.
Olivia said she had a dentist appointment, but Charlie caught her making out with the Belgian at her house.
She actually made us drive over, just to prove it.
Realistically speaking, everyone is going to show up in Malibu anyway.
Everyone always finds out about Olivia’s parties.
Inevitably Jake tells John and Matt, who tell Darcy, who tells everyone.
I think there were something like seventy-one juniors at her house at the end of last year.
I don’t think this party will be quite like that one, but Rob will find out anyway.
The question is just whether he’ll actually show or not.
“Do you think he’d bring her?” Olivia asks.
“I don’t know,” Charlie says. “Are they together?”
“Yeah,” I say, “I guess so.” Rob used the word “destiny.” I’m pretty sure that means they’re at least considering making things official. I slide a Twizzler out of the wrapper and snap off the end with my teeth.
“We need new swimsuits,” Olivia says, like this is our real problem.
Last year Olivia’s parents took the three of us to Acapulco with their family for spring break.
She had gone shopping before our trip and went armed with five new Lilly Pulitzer swimsuits.
The sensory overload kind with the neon pink.
When we got home, she was wailing about how she didn’t make out with anyone the entire time even though there were tons of cute boys at the hotel.
“Maybe that’s because you had electric-green elephants all over your body,” Charlie said. Olivia pretended to be offended, but I hardly think that was the reason, anyway. I think she already had a thing for Ben.
“Fine,” Charlie says, “but I think we should focus on the real issue here.”
“I need a new black bikini.” Olivia’s rifling through her drawers now, things flying everywhere.
“Which is?” I ask.
“What we’re going to do about Juliet,” Charlie finishes.
“We could toilet paper her house,” Olivia says. She’s on her hands and knees, fishing a purple bikini top out of the bottom of her dresser.
“We’re not twelve,” Charlie says. She rolls her eyes at me and runs a Twizzler between her palms. “We need to get her out of here.”
“Like make her quit school?” Olivia asks.
“Like make her move back to LA. If she wasn’t here, this definitely would not be a problem.”
“Maybe she’ll sleep with Mr. Davis,” Olivia offers.
“They’d just fire him,” I say. I don’t want to keep having this conversation, because getting back at Juliet won’t help. It won’t fix anything.
“True,” Charlie says. “But seriously, Rose, snap out of it. This is not okay. You’re not okay.” She tosses a Twizzler in my direction, then perks up. “Do you remember when Fester first started school?”
“Brittany?” Olivia asks. She hops onto the bed, and Charlie sends her an annoyed look.
“Yes. She transferred in halfway through sophomore year and immediately tried out for drama,” Charlie says.
“Mrs. Barch runs drama now,” I say. Charlie looks at me like she has no idea why I know this, or why I’ve volunteered it.
“Anyway,” she says, “she fell in love with Matt, remember? He was doing that Julia Roberts play.” She waves her hand around like she can’t quite remember.
“My Fair Lady?” I ask.
“Right.”
“That’s not Julia Roberts,” Olivia says.
“Seriously?” Charlie asks. Olivia nudges her, and Charlie shrugs her off.
“Anyway, he wasn’t into her, clearly. We were dating.” She looks at each of us to confirm this information. We nod. “She completely fell apart and almost quit school,” she says, like the point is almost irrelevant now. “I’m just saying.”
“But Rob likes Juliet.” Olivia bites her lip and looks at me. “It’s not the same thing, is it?”
“So? You think Rob has any idea what he’s doing? He’s blinded by her hair or something,” Charlie spits out.
I instinctively pull my ponytail over my shoulder and run my hand through it. I don’t want Juliet to fall apart, but I also don’t want Rob to be with her. I just don’t want any of this.
“You know what I mean,” Charlie says quietly.
“So we just need to get Rob to break up with her?” Olivia’s eyebrows are furrowed, and she’s looking at Charlie with a mixture of confusion and something else. Sadness, maybe, but it’s hard to tell.