3. The Alibi #3
“Yeah,” Rhode says. “For the record, we were just blowing off steam. This wasn’t a date or anything. I wouldn’t want you to get the wrong idea.”
“None of my business,” Haz says, holding up his palms.
“If you could not mention that you saw us? Or that Simone got so… blotto? We’re both new this year.”
Haz nearly says, How much is it worth to you? But he isn’t desperate enough to extort his colleagues. Not yet, anyway.
“Your secret is safe with me,” Haz says.
Friday night, Charley has finished her problem sets for trig and is deciding whether to read ahead in history or finish The Night Circus when her phone dings with a text.
It’s Beatrix, her best friend from home. Wyd.
Studying, Charley answers. Friday is a school night.
Saturday classes went into the “con” column when Charley was deciding whether or not to go to boarding school, though secretly it appealed to her. She would go to school seven days if she could.
Have you made any friends? Beatrix asks.
Charley responds: Nope.
Three dots rise, then vanish. On the one hand, Charley knows, Beatrix will be relieved that she hasn’t been replaced; Charley and Beatrix have been friends since before memory.
But on the other hand, Beatrix will feel guilty.
What happened with Beatrix at Charley’s house made Charley’s decision for her.
She couldn’t stay at home with her mother and Joey.
Have you seen Davi Banerjee? Beatrix asks.
Yes, Charley says. She lives on my floor.
Again, three dots rise, then disappear. Charley and Beatrix have long been staunchly anti-influencer, but Charley knows that Beatrix is fascinated by Davi Banerjee.
Charley and Beatrix worked side by side all summer at the Towson Hot Bagels off York Road, and Beatrix spent two hundred dollars of her paycheck on a denim bustier by Out of Office, which everyone knows is the label started by Davi’s parents.
Is she a bitch? Beatrix asks.
We haven’t spoken, Charley says. However, Charley has noticed Davi watching her, then turning and whispering to her minions. They’re making fun of Charley’s clothes—but guess who doesn’t give a fuck?
Charley spent over a thousand dollars of her own THB paychecks on Poshmark buying a vintage Brooks Brothers navy blazer, a boiled wool Tyrolean jacket from The Eagle’s Eye, a Pappagallo belt with scallop-shell buckles.
After Charley’s father died the previous fall, Charley raided the shelves of his home office and came away with his yearbooks from St. George’s School in Rhode Island, as well as a dog-eared copy of The Official Preppy Handbook.
Charley recognized a future version of herself among the penny loafers and striped rugby shirts.
Davi could slut it up all she wanted. Charley was going Fair Isle.
What about the boys? Beatrix asks.
Now it’s Charley’s turn to type, then delete.
She thinks about what happened on Move-In Day—the hottest guy she had ever seen in her life plunked down next to Charley during Chapel, introducing himself as Andrew Eastman, just call him East. Then, East sought Charley out at the cookout by the lake (which Charley was planning to skip before she learned it was mandatory).
East asked to see her book, and she showed it to him, wondering if he might also be literary.
(Was the world outside of Baltimore County filled with super-hot guys who read?)
Not this one. When Charley offered to lend him The Night Circus after she was finished with it, he said, “That’s all right, I already have a book.” It was a joke, but not.
So they wouldn’t bond over Erin Morgenstern or Emily St. John Mandel or Sally Rooney, but East was able to persuade Charley to race him across the lake. All the lessons at York Manor Swim Club paid off; for a few shining moments, Charley was starring in a rom-com.
As they stood in line to get their lunch, East said, “I almost let you win, but I sensed that would have pissed you off.”
“You sensed right,” Charley said. “I hate being patronized.”
“You held your own,” East said. When he handed Charley the spoon for the potato salad, their fingers brushed. “Which kind of turned me on.”
Charley had been struck dumb by this. It was only later, when she was back in her room, that the right response came to her: You’re that easy? But in the moment, she had made a squeaking noise and scurried back to her quilt.
The next day, East turned up in Charley’s history class. He chose the seat beside hers, but his eyes were glassed over and she was pretty sure she smelled weed. This was unsurprising, but a disappointment nevertheless.
Nothing to report on that front, Charley writes, which feels a bit disingenuous.
Since fifth grade, Charley and Beatrix have shared every interaction with every boy they’ve spoken to or even looked at.
Beatrix would gobble up these stories about East…
but she would also make too much of them.
Charley realizes that, at least in this, her mother was correct: Beatrix tends to blow things out of proportion.
But when it came to what happened with Joey, Charley believes her.
I miss you, Beatrix writes. Everyone at school misses you.
Charley’s social life in Towson included movies at the Cinemark, trips to Owings Mills Mall, parties in people’s finished basements, where Charley would drink exactly one White Claw (she could only tolerate the grapefruit flavor) and then spend the rest of the night babysitting Beatrix, making sure she didn’t do an impromptu pole dance or disappear upstairs with one of the assholes from the lacrosse team.
If Charley’s being honest, she sort of prefers reading by herself in this room on a floor where nobody’s sure what to make of her. She has escaped the shackles of her former existence: her father’s death, her mother and Joey, and yes, Beatrix.
I miss you too, Charley says.