Status: I'll post one or two chapters per day. Stay tuned!
The Unusual Suspects
Skye and Catherine
Chapter Three
Skye
After the early morning confrontation with Cassidy, her Band Sluts, and Shi Huangdi, I needed another coffee refill. Here’s an insider tip for those of you who don’t go to WashArts: Coffee is a necessity. It doesn’t matter what time it is, or how little money you have left on your debit card; Starbucks = Status.
My friend Ash worked at the Starbucks kiosk in the dining hall. He wasn’t an Unusual Suspect, but we’ve been friends since freshman year. His family wasn’t very well off back in Kentucky. They weren’t poor (obviously, because Washington Arts is not a cheap school), but they didn’t have the income to give Ash an allowance like the rest of us. He had 7 other brothers and sisters back in Kentucky.
It was already 11 am by the time I was showered and all ready to head out for the day. Classes didn’t start until tomorrow, so I had a lot of time to kill before the party tonight. The morning rush at Starbucks had died down and Ash stood behind the counter chatting with a familiar looking guy. I think he was Donte’s roommate.
“Hey there!” I cried, slamming my hands on the counter and greeting my friend. I hadn’t seen Ash since June and I had missed him all summer long. We Skyped frequently, but cyber-Ash didn’t compare to the real thing. He was perfection.
“Hi, Skylar.” He drawled adorably in his Kentucky accent. He was the only person who I let call me by my full first name. Whenever my mother called me Skylar, I assumed she was pissed at me.
“I’m pissed” I stated, slipping onto one of the barstools in front of the counter
“What happened now?” he asked sarcastically, giving me that goofy smile I missed so much these past few months “It’s only the first day! Tall, grande, or venti?”
“Venti.” the guy who was standing with Ash behind the counter smirked. Who the hell are you?
“I was having coffee with my Unusuals in the common room, catching up, having a really good time,” I rambled on as Ash prepared my usual latte (he knew what I liked. He didn’t even need to ask) and listened intently “and in walks the Street Corner’s finest” I groaned
“Ooh” he shuddered. He knew exactly who I was talking about. He’d been there for me after what happened with Michael and Cassidy last spring “Cat fight?”
“More like a showdown” he handed me my latte and I took a long sip. Coffee soothed my soul, just like Ash did.
“Uh, hey, Ash?” the other guy turned around and I got a better look of his face. He was really tall and really weird-looking, with blue eyes and a mess of blonde hair. He had a mumbling, sketchy voice that reminded me of the homeless man who stood outside the 7-Eleven back home in Annapolis.
“Yeah, dude?” he seemed bugged that this guy was interrupting our conversation
“I broke the machine again”
“Dude!” he cried, exasperated. He gave me an apologetic look “Sorry Skye, but I gotta fix this. I’ll meet up with you at party?” he grinned warmly at me
I broke out in a full grin, my annoyance at Cassidy and her Band Sluts diminished. I knew that coming to see Ash was a good idea—he could make everything better.
“Wait, I haven’t heard about a party?” the other guy perked up. Ash just gave him a really dirty look and pushed him aside to work on the mess he made.
“Oh, it’s just for Newbauma’s finest. Nothing personal!” I turned on my heel and made my way back to the dorm rooms.
“See ya later Skylar!” Ash called, throwing me his trademark grin
I heard a flash, and I knew the Sketchy Barista was taking a picture of my retreating ass. Might as well give him a show.
When I walked back in my dorm, I saw Jersey glued to her glowing Macbook screen, looking totally zombie-fied.
“Jersey!” I closed the door behind me and stepped further inside. I couldn’t believe our room was this messy on the first day. Jersey’s Forever 21 and my Pacsun clothes littered the floor along with eyeliner, pencils (mine), rolls of film (Jersey’s), Vans sneakers, and old coffee cups. Was my caffeine addiction really that bad?
“Huh?” she looked up, wide eyes dazed. Was she alright? Had the second-hand marijuana odor filling the hallway outside gotten to her?
“Are you alright?” I asked
“Oh! Yeah!” she squeaked “I just found the COOLEST blog over the summer!” her eyes faced me but I could see she was trying to look back at the computer. Dork.
“Really?” I wanted to check what was so ‘cool’ that Jersey wasn’t paying attention to me. I stepped behind her desk chair and looked over at the computer screen.
It was a Tumblr (not a Quill photo blog, so this had to be good) filled with high-quality photographs of different cities and countries and the people in them. Jersey was looking at a black-and-white photo of a dark-haired woman in big shades on a Vespa in what looked like Rome. Ok, I had to admit, the photos were really good. This wasn’t one of those annoying poser Tumblr blogs of preppy softball girls trying to be emotional and artsy. This guy was legit, whoever he was.
“Isn’t it so good?” she hadn’t been this excited since we found out Jason Mraz was performing at our junior prom.
“Do you know this guy?” I asked, trying to be engaged. Photo blogs weren’t really my thing. Jersey’s area of study was photography, and mine was creative writing (hence the many pencils on the floor) with a minor focus in makeup artistry.
“I WISH!” she rolled her eyes to the ceiling “but I will someday!” she added determinedly “His username is ‘6FeetUndrTheSun”. I mean, how romantic is that? Do you really think anyone this talented is in high school”
“Grammy winners go here!” I reasoned.
“Regardless. This guy has experience.”
“Oh-kay..” I drawled, “I’m gonna go shower now, so I don’t offend people at the party. Maybe you should do the same, poopy-pants.” I implied that she needed to get off the computer
“Really? I smell?” she was so absorbed in this guy’s blog, I don’t think she really heard me. She was looking at a sepia photo of the Eiffel Tower. Impressive…
“Jer-sey! The other Unusuals are coming in an hour to get ready! And if you’re not shampooed and conditioned by the time they arrive, we’re putting Nair in your Herbal Essences bottle.”
“Oh shoot!” she exited out of Tumblr and shot out of her chair, grabbing her hair products—strewn over her unmade sheets—like they were her lifeline.
In an hour, as promised, all of the Unusuals—sans the Y chromosome—were crammed in our dorm room getting ready for our party (T-minus one hour till party time at seven). Diglett’s Cave’s new demo was blasting on my stereo, but we couldn’t hear the music over our laughter and chatter. It looked like the America’s Next Top Model dressing room had exploded in here (oops). Ready for some fashion that will blow your mind?
Last summer I visited my cousin Emily in New York City, and she took me shopping in SoHo, the hippest shopping area in Manhattan. I was wearing this amazing sequined turquoise minidress with a tube top and a sweetheart neckline. On my feet were banana-yellow (contrast is always good, according to Jessica) four-inch pumps. My auburn hair tumbled down my back in thick waves and I lined my eyes with a sparkly charcoal-colored pencil. I’d glossed my lips with a tasty peach gloss. Poi-fect.
Jersey, the whimsical bitch that she is, wore a one-shoulder pink ballerina dress that came to mid-thigh. I envied her tan and petite figure, but I still thought she was beautiful. I would have to protect her from the boys would be all over her tonight. She wore gold strappy sandals that made her look more like a Greek goddess. Lucy had tackled her long tousled curls with a flat iron. I brushed some gold eye shadow on her eyelids and dusted some bronzer over her shoulders and cleavage—for fun!
Jane, as always, looked like she came straight out of a Sailor Moon character. She wore a tight leather corset over a spider-y gray top, with a red-and-black plaid schoolgirl skirt with crosses emblazoned along the ruffled hem. Her accessories were very “vampire”: long black fingerless gloves, spiked rings, loud Gothic jewelry, a Victorian-style lace choker, layered studded belts, and high-heeled black combat boots. Her lipstick was deep-red, her dark hair was loose and angelic, her mascara was dark, but she was all Jane. On anyone else, the hodgepodge would look ridiculous and overdone but on Jane it worked.
Lucy wore a bright yellow form-fitting tube dress (she resembled a ducky. She loved duckies)—comfortable enough to perform. Her platinum blonde hair was scrunched up in tight curls pulled half-up in a Snooki-style pouf. Maryah wore her trademark skater beanie and a vintage extra-large Guns N Roses shirt that was scrunched up—courtesy of Jessica—into a rockin’ minidress, with her studded combat boots. Jessica, ever the dominant fashionista, wore one of her best creations: a sapphire-blue A-line maxidress with a rhinestone-studded waist underneath the bust. Stella wore a short yellow tutu with a studded green tank top and a big purple bow-headband that we had to force her to wear.
“Jersey, you look hawt!” Maryah bellowed, pelting a Cheez-it at her head as she posed in front of the three-fold mirror
“Who you trying to impress?” Stella laughed, pulling up her tank top—which was drooping too low—and shaking her head. She was upset because we were making her dress like a girl. At least we let her wear green—her favorite color.
“No one, really” Jersey seemed distracted, probably thinking about that 6-Feet guy or whatever his username was. “Can someone take a picture of me in this dress? I wanna post it on Tumblr and maybe 6FeetUndrTheSun will see it”
“6FeetUndrTheSun?” Maryah asked, perking up
“Dude, I love his blog!” Lucy exclaimed from where she was pinning her hair up at my vanity
“I know, right?” Jersey beamed, getting that starry look in her eyes. I could tell she was smitten with this Internet dude who was apparently more famous than I thought.
“Am I the only one in this room who doesn’t know—or care—about 6FeetUndrTheSun?” I asked over the zeal that had taken over my dorm room
Everyone looked at me with either shock or disgust. I guess I was.
“Where’s your camera Jersey?” Jane volunteered, pulling at her gloves
“Over there on my bed” Jersey pointed to her bed
“So Skye, has Ash proposed yet?” Jessica smirked, playing with my hair. She was OCD about hair.
“Shut up, you know we’re just best friends.” I threw my panda bear pillow pet at her.
“I’ve seen the way he looks at you,” Jersey piped up, “He loves you. Always has.”
I wasn’t comfortable discussing my relationship with Ash, even with my Unusuals, so I changed the subject. Ash and I had a weird type of friendship. “So, has it been confirmed about what Fernando will be wearing?”
“Or not wearing?” Maryah smirked, raising her eyebrows
“I don’t know why you guys find him so studly. His abs aren’t that impressive.” Lucy rolled her eyes.
“Yes they are” I heard Jessica mutter as she ran a curling iron through my hair one last time.
She had the nerve to ask about my friendship with Ash yet she had a secret of her own. It’d been obvious she had a crush on Fernando since the sixth grade. He was the one guy who never wore clothes but still looked good—I guess that was the bad boy-appeal equivalent for fashion designers. She was also happy that a boy had grown taller than her five-foot-ten frame. Designers and models were notoriously tall together here at the Academy.
“Hey guys, I hear Vladimir setting up his equipment in the common room. We should get going” I asked, looking over at Jersey poising for Jane. She’d been making Jane retake one photo for the past five minutes. She was seriously wasting time.
“You know what else I hear?” Stella interjected, sitting on the edge of Jersey’s bed. She was smiling wide with her gossip-y grin, so I knew this had to be good.
“What?” My Unusuals asked, craving gossip. They were more distracted than a five-year-old in the Burger King Playland. We were going to be late.
“Vladimir’s older brother transferred this year. Heard he got expelled from the Russian Royal Military Academy or some shit place like that” Stella was all ‘go America’. She also had a way with hot, older men—she was a tomboy, so she never had to flirt like we did. The boys came to her (damn it Stella…)
“Ooh, bad boys” Lucy grinned. Her hair was perfect, and she knew it too. Maryah kept looking at her, eyes blank but yet full of deep emotion.
“I KNOW, RIGHT!” Stella threw her gloved hands in the air, totally excited “I also hear he’s sexy as hell, but gets around…”
“I like a challenge. It’s about time we get some new bait around here,” I pursed my lips, prepping my inner diva, “You guys ready or what?”
“READY!” my Unusuals all screamed in unison.
“Cool, let’s peace out.”
**********
Catherine
“You’re from Salem? That’s so cool!”
Cassidy Love, Linzay’s friend, stood over me as I sat on the edge of my new bed with her other friend, Jinx, working on my hair behind me. Cassidy was smiling sweetly at me, but I couldn’t stop staring at her lip piercings—which resembled cobra fangs—or the rest of her. She was a walking Halloween costume.
“Umm, thanks” I stammered shyly, not really knowing what else to say. This was the fifth question she bombarded me with since she walked in our dorm ten minutes ago.
As promised, Linzay’s friends, Cassidy and another girl named Jinx, arrived in our dorm to get ready for the party. I could hear the music already beginning to play from the common rooms downstairs, and I was dying to leave, but Cassidy was adamant on being “fashionably late”. Also, the minute Jinx stepped through the threshold into our dorm she took one look at me and insisted I needed one “hell of a makeover” before going to this party.
I was flattered by the offer, but I wasn’t one-hundred-percent sure if I even wanted a makeover from these girls. They wore lots of black but not in the edgy, cool way I admired. They wore lots of black in that scary, over-the-top way they warned you about in Sunday school.
When I first looked at Cassidy and Jinx ten minutes ago I was instantly alarmed. Cassidy wore a cropped gray top that showed a lot of skin and her neon green bra straps, with tight leather pants and sky-high snakeskin heels. Her black makeup was scary, but what was more terrifying were those snakelike piercings on her lips. Though I’ve seen a lot of hair dye walking around campus for the first time today, her greasy, half-dyed orange-and-ashy-blonde brought up this weird feeling in my stomach.
But how she dressed didn’t seem to matter because Cassidy seemed really nice. Like Linzay had said, she was really taken by me. She was interested in my life before Washington Arts and said she couldn’t wait to show me around the city. I simply smiled and nodded my head, feeling like a balloon about to burst. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this welcome before.
Jinx sat cross-legged on my bed behind me as she worked rigorously on my hair for the party. Jinx didn’t look that much different than Cassidy and Linzay, except that she had twice more facial piercings, a severely-short bob half-dyed turquoise, and a bigger frame. She told me her area of study was cosmetology. Before coming over she’d done hair and makeup for Cassidy and Linzay, who was sprawled across her bed waiting for us to finish up. She hadn’t changed her outfit much, except for swapping her baggy band shirt for a silver midriff tee and slathering her orange hair with a gallon of sickly sweet-smelling products.
Jinx had already finished her makeup—I was dying to know what it looked like, but she refused to show me until she was “absolutely” done—and was pulling a hot straightening iron through my long dark hair. I’d planned on wearing a white lace dress with satin slippers and pearls, but she totally rejected it. She said dressing like a “goody-two-shoes” would turn everyone off, and I wouldn’t be popular. I was sure that was the one thing I wanted at Washington Arts: to be what I wasn’t at Holy Cross. Popular.
So instead she was making me wear something she pulled out from Linzay’s closet. It was a black strapless minidress with a laced-up corset, dark lace fingerless gloves, and matching strappy heels. When I first saw myself in it in the three-fold mirror I practically had a heart attack. I looked so different—and not in the “good, ladylike” way I was so used to. It was risqué. It was revolutionary. It was one of those dresses that challenged school codes and shook up the very foundations of society. It was practically a sin for me to wear it—let alone look this good and feel this good. I felt… alive. In a really strange way, I guess. I don’t know. I never really felt anything like it. A part of me deep inside felt like I’d just woken up for the very first time.
“Are you almost done Jinx?” Linzay whined
“Shut up bitch” Jinx muttered, pulling her iron through my hair one last time. I tensed up at the word, even though I heard the three girls say a lot worse since they came in.
“So, Katie,” Cassidy continued interrogating me
“Catherine” I corrected
“What’re you studying?” she asked, batting her eyelashes weirdly
“Um, creative writing?” I responded uncertainly. Was that considered a “cool” major here? What would she think?
Before I could take in Cassidy’s reaction, Jinx burst out laughing. It sounded really obnoxious and rubbed me the wrong way.
“Creative writing?” she guffawed “That’s so lame!”
“Jinx!” Cassidy snapped at her, eyes suddenly switching from sincere to menacing, so much that Linzay recoiled on her bed. Jinx stopped laughing and I felt her tense up behind me.
Cassidy quickly turned her eyes back to me, sincere once more. “Sorry Caroline, she can be a real bitch sometimes” she said to me, saying the word with extra harshness.
Jinx shifted around uncomfortably, obviously bothered. She’d finished with her iron and was touching up my finished hair. It felt hot and dry, but I guess that was a good thing.
“It’s Catherine” I corrected again
“Hey, isn’t that what Skye’s studying?” Linzay piped up
“Who’s Skye?” I asked Cassidy
But she wasn’t looking at me anymore. She was giving Linzay another deadly look that seemed so unlike her. I saw the color drain from her face. Jinx stopped finishing up my hair and I felt her tense up even more.
“No one” Cassidy folded her arms across her chest, clearly bothered “anyway, mine’s modeling. That’s how I met Jinx”
“Freshman year we worked on a project together for our final exam. She had to do a cover shoot for Glamour and I had to turn her into a Japanese doll”
“You made me look so ugly!” she whined
“You looked hot! You always do” Jinx and Linzay said in unison. They sounded monotonous and mechanic, like robots. As if this was something they had to repeat to her several times every day.
“That’s what I like to hear” Cassidy purred, twisting a strand of oily hair around a black acrylic fingernail.
I could hear a loud rave song blasting from the common rooms downstairs. I looked at the time on my alarm clock. Seven-fifteen. We were so late.
“Um, shouldn’t we…?” I timidly asked, pointing at the door. I was about to explode with anxious excitement, and I honestly couldn’t wait any longer.
“Here” Jinx impatiently shoved a mirror in my hands. I looked in the mirror… and gasped.
But before I could say anything—before I could even react—Cassidy grabbed my wrist and pulled me up to my feet.
“You look so hot!” she gushed “now c’mon, let’s go”
With Jinx and Linzay in tow, Cassidy pulled me out the dorm room and didn’t let go of my wrist until we were in the middle of the super-packed hallway outside the common rooms. She shoved her way through the loud, dense crowd of teenagers—all with neon highlights in their shaggy hair and dressed in eccentric, hipster-ish outfits—mobbing the entrance, while dragging me through the “party massacre”.
She let go of me when she pulled me inside, and once again I felt my mouth drop to the floor.
The lights. Flashing and throbbing, and dancing around the spacious room with the hundreds of wild, artsy teenagers mobbing every corner and floorboard. The octave-breaking, hip-hop beat pulsated through the room, shaking the walls and shattering my ears. I could feel the beat of the music penetrate my skin and touch my soul, so that I became hypnotized with the rest of the madly dancing crowd. It hasn’t been fifteen minutes but already empty kegs and crushed cans of Red Bull littered the neon rugs. A girl in a green tutu and yellow tank top was dancing sporadically on one of the orange leather chaises, her skin looking purple in the flashing lights, looking totally wasted on Monster. Throngs of girls with hot-pink hair in purple leggings danced like they were on MTV, and there were more gyrating couples than I could handle.
Cassidy put a hand on my shoulder and dug her long acrylic nails in my exposed flesh. She put her deep-red lips up to my ear and purred with a satisfied grin,
“Welcome to Washington Arts, new girl. Stick with me and I promise you won’t get lost”
**********
Skye
Walking into the common room with my friends by my side, I took in my surroundings. Every WashArts party rocked, but nothing beat the secret dorm parties. Shi Huangdi had her night off tonight and was probably over at a friend’s house watching Law and Order—or whatever dictators did on their nights off—and the party was in full force.
The aforementioned Fernando was tuning his bass, shirtless, in the center of the room with a cluster of underclassmen female admirers circling him, trailing his every word. I thought I saw Jessica, a junior, in the group. I laughed to myself. She wasn’t fooling anyone. Our Russian friend, Vladimir Bolshevik was dropping some beats on his soundboard by the fireplace. Vlad didn’t have any groupies, but I knew he was okay with that. He would go ape-shit if a clumsy girl spilled her beer on his equipment. I saw Donte walk in, dressed in a purple flannel over a Red Hot Chili Peppers shirt. A particularly handsome boy who I didn’t recognize made eye contact with me and grinned flirtatiously. I winked back at the stranger, who then patted the empty seat next to him, beaconing at me to join him. I stuck my tongue out at him and went to join Jersey, who looked tipsy already. Here we go.
“Heyyy” Jersey drawled as I approached her, “Howzit going?”
“We’ve been at the party for 15 minutes and you’re already tipsy. Nice job, lightweight.” I rolled my eyes, “Who’s that new dude? He seems rather coy.”
“Simple words, Skye, I’m under the influence.”
“He seems like a man-whore!” I spelled out in Jersey terms.
“Oh! That’s Demetri Bolshevik. Vladimir’s older brother.”
“The one Stella told us about?” I confirmed.
“Yeah. Cute, right?” she grinned drunkenly.
“He’s alright.” I replied distractedly. Where was Ash?
Some guy sidled up to us, possibly the one person in the room drunker than Jersey. “Heyyy. I’m Tommy. You’rree kinda cuuute.” He said to Jersey. It was the pervy barista from Starbucks this morning. Donte had said that he was a douche.
“Later, Jerz.” I walked away from them and gave my friend a parting look.
“Hey, Skylar.”
I whipped around, “Ash!” Finally.
“You look gorgeous,” he hugged me. I knew he’d have a comment.
He looked cute in his Starbucks uniform, but when he was in normal clothes he was absolute perfection. His hair was a work of art itself. It was sandy-brown, like a caramel Frapp (my favorite summertime drink), with chunky gold highlights. He wore it straight and over his ears in messy waves, and side-swept bangs that just brushed over his wide emerald-green eyes, which crinkled at the corners when he smiled. He wore a tight gray t-shirt and dark blue straight-leg jeans.
“Likewise.” I replied with a grin.
Ash was so much fun to flirt with. While Donte and I were strictly platonic friends, Ash and I liked to “test the waters” and mess around. Not actually mess around. We just have the kind of playful flirtation that is completely perfect as is.
“Want a Pop?” he asked teasingly. Ash knew I didn’t drink beer—it was disgusting—so he made a huge deal of the fact that I stayed 100% sober. I’d let Jersey drink enough for the both of us.
“Yes, I’d love a POP.” I rolled my eyes at the word. Secretly, his Kentucky accent gave me the chills.
He gave me a little tickle and I swatted his hand away, “You really do look amazing. I’ll be right back.”
I decided to do another lap while Ash was getting my drink. Diglett’s Cave had just started their set, and they sounded even better than they had last year. I watched, amused, as Fernando tore his shirt off during one of Stella’s notoriously long guitar solos. Jessica saddled up to me, with Jane in tow.
“Hey!” She yelled over the music, “They look good up there!”
I raised an eyebrow knowingly, “Yeah! They do,” I knew for sure that she meant Fernando looked good up there.
“Don’t turn around.” Jane suddenly warned me.
Jane should’ve known me well enough to know that saying “Don’t turn around” meant “Skye! Turn around!” Behind me, Cassidy and her Band Sluts were sauntering into the common room. As if on cue, the band started playing their loudest song, which also had some scream-o in it. It was called “The Devil is Approaching”. Fitting, no?
“Who’s that girl with them?” Jessica asked. I too had just noticed an unfamiliar face that was walking next to Linzay.
“Must be Christine’s replacement,” Jane stated knowingly.
“She doesn’t look like Christine at all.” Christine was Linzay’s roommate last year. Rumor has it that she was expelled last Spring for smoking cocaine in the rare books room in the library. This new girl was dressed like a Band Slut, in some black and lace minidress contraption, but she had the kind of innocence in her face that reminded me of the Linzay I was friends with last year.
“She’s cute.” Donte popped out of nowhere. I gave him a quick hug.
“She’d be prettier if she was wearing jade green. All that black clashes with her pale skin.” Jessica commented with a designer’s perspective.
“And without all that gunky black eyeshadow on her face.” I added. While Jessica was a fashionista, I spend hours on end in Sephora, usually dropping $100-plus on makeup.
I was expecting Cassidy to come over here and start something, especially because Shi Huangdi wasn’t there to witness. However, she just walked right by, with her Band Sluts in tow, merely shooting me a dirty look and nothing more.
“Did you see that?!” I asked Jessica, shocked. The band had stopped playing and Vladimir Bolshevik had taken the stage once again.
“See what?” Stella jumped in, sweaty and pumped up from her performance.
“Cassidy just walked by Skye—without a word.” Jane seemed to read my mind.
“It must have something to do with that new girl with them.” Stella observed.
“Cassidy is probably trying to seem all sweet and nurturing so she can adopt a third groupie.” Jessica was watching Cassidy approach Fernando and his entourage, leaving Jinx, Linzay, and the new girl behind. I watched her face go from curiosity to disappointment. Poor thing.
“I feel sorry for her.” I shook my head.
Well Washington Arts, I thought, another one bites the dust.
Catherine
“Cassidy?”
But she couldn’t hear me. She was too busy talking to this really tall, shirtless kid drenched in sweat, holding an electric guitar (he’d been part of the band that’d been playing when we walked in). He’d been glowing, surrounding by a posse of ecstatic freshman girls, but the lights went out in his face at the sight of Cassidy.
Well, she probably wouldn’t have heard me anyway—some short guy with floppy blonde hair and giant headphones was dropping rave beats on a soundboard on the other side of the room, and it shook Newbauma Hall with a 7.8 seismic magnitude. And I mean, I guess it was alright to ditch when I had no idea what…
“Hey, do you guys know—?”
But I was talking to air. Air that was pungent with the smell of Ketel One, sweat, and way too much Axe hairspray.
“Catherine!” Linzay bellowed over the music. I turned around and saw her waving her hand wildly in the air, beckoning me to come over. She and Jinx had slipped away without me noticing and they were sitting cross-legged on the floor around a littered coffee table with three other kids. Two boys and a girl with cropped hot-pink hair, dressed spikier than a cheesy horror film monster. One of the boys had a bag filled with some substance that they were passing it around the circle, each taking their own share. I walked over curiously and noticed that whatever was in the bag shone weirdly in the red and purple club lights flashing above our heads.
Linzay pointed to the bag that’d been passed along to Jinx, who was scooping out a handful of the white powdery stuff for herself.
Oh God. I knew what that was.
“Want some?” Linzay asked, smiling awkwardly. She was being nice and polite, but I could tell she was still not that used to the idea of me yet. It would take some time, I guess.
“Umm…” I faltered.
Once you graduated from the Lower School into the Upper School at Holy Cross, the PTSA got so worked up about their good little Christian daughters “growing up too fast” and turning bad. Our parents and the school were so worried that we would somehow wake up one morning and decide to become lesbians or strippers that every Friday afternoon they’d pull us out of seventh-period to sit us down in the chapel pews and make us watch the most boring after-school-specials on everything from drugs (shameful) to teen pregnancy (taboo) to homosexuality (you’re going to hell). It was plastered in our brains that doing these sorts of things would turn us into possessed, evil freaks like Linda Blair in The Exorcist.
So of course I recognized what was in that bag that was being passed around. I knew what Linzay was offering me, and I knew what I was going to say.
“No, I’m fine” I stiffly blurted out, and walked away.
As I walked off, ignoring Linzay’s questioning calls behind me, I felt freaked out by what just happened but I felt more disappointed and, well, lost. It was one thing for Cassidy to ditch me for that shirtless guitar guy—I looked over and saw her waving her hands at him, both looking pretty pissed—but it was another to have the only two people I knew in a party full of complete strangers to engage in something I was unwilling to take part of. I hadn’t been exactly abandoned, but I was stranded and helpless. I strode off to one of the walls, away from the dancing scene in the middle of the room, and looked around. I saw nothing but unfamiliar faces. Everyone was having an awesome time with friends they’ve known forever, and I was standing all alone in a hot dress with absolutely no idea what to do.
Crossing my arms over my chest, I walked over to a makeshift wet bar up against the right wall. It looked like the only other place in the room where there weren’t that many people hanging around but I wouldn’t look awkward and sad if I just stayed there. On my way I passed the soundboard—my eardrums would be out of service tomorrow—and a small group of “faces”. There was a girl in an awesome sapphire dress, another sweaty girl in a green tutu—I recognized her as the lead guitarist in the band that’d just been playing—, a guy in a purple flannel shirt who looked pretty safe and an identical-looking girl dressed up like Dracula’s mistress, and a pretty girl with gold shadow-y eyes that were... staring right at me. She looked away when I noticed her staring but I kept on walking, determined to get myself out of this crazy, strange scene and over to the wet bar.
Surprisingly there was only one guy sitting at the bar when I walked over. He was cradling a bottle of some foreign-looking beer in his hands and had an unlit cigarette wedged between his lips. When I got closer I could see in the lights that he was really cute. Actually, “cute” was an understatement. He had tousled, dark-brown hair and a pretty face good enough for a European aftershave ad. When I sat down three stools away from him, he looked up at me… and I saw the devilish lights in his bedroom eyes.
“What do you have?” I asked the blonde guy behind the bar, trying not to look over at the guy. I couldn’t tell if he was still staring at me. It’d be better if he wasn’t, but a part of me really hoped he was.
“Red Bull, Monster, Rock Star, Ketel One, Bud…” the bartender was a freshman who looked like he’d had nothing else better to do.
“Never mind” I gave up with a sigh. Hot Guy laugh-snorted, and I quickly peeked over at him. Well, he hadn’t forgotten about me. That was new, at least for a boy. I squirmed uncomfortably in my barstool.
“Afraid the police will catch you?”
I looked back over at him in disbelief but sure enough, Hot Guy was staring right at me with those I’m-up-to-no-good eyes and a coy grin.
“No, I just… don’t drink” I replied uncertainly.
If God had planned on this being the night I’d talk to a boy for the first time, why couldn’t He had given me one that wasn’t so damn good-looking? I wasn’t that ready or experienced.
He raised his eyebrows. He thought this was funny.
“You don’t drink?” he scoffed
I nodded my head. “You certainly don’t look like you’re that innocent” he was looking hungrily at my dress now
My instincts told me to shield my body with my arms and turn the other way, but his eyes had held my gaze for a good three seconds and I was paralyzed. Also, the way he’d said “innocent” sent shivers down my spine. He had this smooth, gravelly voice that was laced with a cool accent I couldn’t put a place on.
I wanted to say something back to that, but my lips quivered with no words coming out. I resigned and instead asked,
“What’s your name?”
“Demetri Bolshevik. You?” he tilted his bottle at me
Russian. That was it. I recognized the foreign label on his beer bottle—it was written in Slavic letters.
“Catherine Polizzi”
“Oh, Italian” Demetri smirked, seeming happy with that info “I thought you were as crazy about the booze as we were?”
“It’s not booze. It’s wine” I corrected, but he ignored me.
“I’ve never seen you before” he pointed out before taking a big swig of his beer
“I’m new. Today’s my first day”
“Cool. I like new girls” he winked. My heart somersaulted in my chest.
“It’s my first day here too… sort of” he rolled his eyes
“Really?” I asked, confused.
“Yeah, they kicked me out over some bullshit freshman year. So my dad got pissed and sent me to this military school for messed-up kids. It was worse than this place, and they kicked me out too. So Dad threatened to send a nuke if Wash Arts didn’t let me back in, and now I’m back”
“Cool story, bro” It was a response I’d picked up from Linzay earlier that day
“Huh?” he furrowed his eyebrows
“Never mind” I blushed “wait, why would your dad threaten to bomb the school?”
Demetri laughed “No, I’m not sure what he did. Negotiate, threaten, whatever. He’s the prime minister of freaking Russia—you never really know, just like with your mafia buddies” he winked again
But I was too shocked to really notice. “Wait, your dad’s the—”
“Yo Demetri, give me some of that”
I looked over and saw the DJ with the floppy blonde hair walking over to us (he was shorter than I thought. He had to reach my shoulders). I hadn’t noticed that the band from earlier—their drum set said “Diglett’s Cave”—was playing a grungy, scream-o number on a makeshift stage. I saw the tutu girl and Shirtless Boy shredding their guitars… and Cassidy ranting angrily at a blank-faced Linzay and Jinx across the room.
“Catherine,” oh Jesus, I loved the way he said my name “this is my little brother, Vladimir”
“Dude, I’m a year younger than you. I’m not ‘little’” Vladimir rolled his eyes. His thick DJ headphones, which looked like they cost a thousand dollars, hung professionally from around his neck.
Though he had the same slight accent, his voice wasn’t nearly as smooth or gravelly as his brother’s—it was more mumbling and rocky. He also wasn’t as pretty. Well, I’d seen worse-looking, like in my church group and on TV, but he paled next to his brother.
“Vladimir, this is Catherine, the Mafia Boss’s daughter” Demetri waved a hand at me, introducing me in a way that made Braille-like goose bumps pop all over my skin.
Vladimir, grabbing his own bottle of Russian beer, took one look at me. Whatever tired, irritated look he’d had melted into a face of surprised awe.
I smiled and waved my fingers. “Hi, so nice to meet you. You’re a really good DJ”
“Th-thanks” Vladimir stammered, lips turning up in a wide grin.
“Vlad’s really good with technology. That’s how he got in” Demetri nudged him in the ribs with his elbow, but his eyes were glued on my dress
“But this is an art school” I pointed out, puzzled
“He means I got in for my graphic art” Vladimir nudged him back, harder. I noticed his cheeks were unusually red. “What about you?” he averted his wide, awed eyes back to me, grinning wider.
“Creative writing” I hesitantly replied. I expected a reaction like Jinx’s, but Demetri shrugged and lifted his bottle to his lips. Vladimir’s grin fell slightly.
“Oh, that’s…”
“What?” I asked, scared that I screwed up again.
“Nothing, I just hate writing. I’m all about computers… hey, wait a minute. Are you new here?”
“If she wasn’t, I wouldn’t have introduced her” Demetri pointed out sarcastically, still sizing me up in my dress. If lights were dancing in Vladimir’s eyes, then the lights in Demetri’s were grinding.
“If you want, I can definitely show you around campus tomorrow. You know, before classes? I’m usually…”
“Heeey Dim-Dim”
Cassidy popped out of nowhere and sauntered over to Demetri, grinning sultrily. She slapped Vladimir out of the way and stopped behind Demetri’s stool, putting her hands on both his shoulders. Demetri snapped his eyes away from me and became absorbed in Cassidy, grinning sultrily back and looking a bit tipsy. I felt a pang of hurt. How could he just lose interest in me like that?
And how could Cassidy just abandon me and then pop back up out of nowhere?
“Hey Cassidy, what--?”
“Nice to have you back, big guy” she purred, massaging his shoulders. He really liked that.
“I was elected ambassador, which means I’m supposed to show all the freshman and transfer students their way around campus. I’m usually out by the digital art lab in the mornings with my friends. I’m sure you’ll love them…”
I tuned out Vladimir and watched Cassidy flirt with Demetri right in front of me. I wasn’t quite sure what I was feeling, but I didn’t like it. I was really confused. This was just a really, really overwhelming night.
“Yeah, it’s been way too long Cassidy” Demetri’s dark, bedroom eyes lingered away from Cassidy’s made-up face right down to her poorly-covered chest.
“Cass! What gives?!”
Shirtless Boy stormed out of nowhere (what was with these Wash Arts kids? Were they half-ghost or something?) and straight up to Cassidy. Even though he only lightly grabbed her shoulder, she punched his hand away like he’d assaulted her.
“What the fuck Fernando?!” she screeched, spinning around to face him full-on. As she turned her orange-blonde hair whipped around, resembling flames. “Didn’t I tell you to back. Off?!”
Whoa.
I looked around the common rooms and realized I wasn’t the only one completely stunned. Maybe I was the only one who had no idea why Cassidy was screaming like a banshee witch at this poor, shirtless guy—who looked really mad at something—but everyone else had stopped whatever it was they’d been doing to watch from wherever they were in the room. Digger’s Cave (or whatever they were called) had stopped playing—Shirtless Guy must’ve seen Cassidy flirting with Demetri and stormed off the stage to come over here, abruptly ending whatever song they’d been playing—and were watching in concerned dread that rivaled everyone else's thirsty anticipation.
How could Cassidy just put on a show like this??
“Gosh, you say you want to be in a relationship with me and the next minute you go around on every boy behind my back! I just don’t understand you sometimes Cass!!” Shirtless Boy shouted, clearly fed up
“Christ, are you really that stupid Fernando? Are you really that fucked-up? I thought I made it clear to you in Spanish 3 that this wasn’t a serious relationship! I slept with you but what is it that you want from me?!” she was throwing her hands in the air overdramatically again.
Everyone in the room seemed ready to grab popcorn and some first-row seats. Vladimir looked highly uncomfortable and backed several feet away, but his eyes still lingered on me, whereas Demetri continued sipping his Russian beer, totally unfazed. I watched in complete shock.
“I just want you to stop playing me like I’m some toy!!” Shirtless Boy’s hands flew to his wavy brown hair in angry exasperation, redder than Cassidy’s lipstick
As Cassidy and Shirtless Boy screamed at each other, both wildly flinging their arms and stomping their feet and cursing in each other’s faces—while I sat back in uncomfortable, overwhelming panic—I noticed a flash of sequin turquoise and auburn curls storm past the fighting couple. The forceful slam of the common room entrance was like a gunshot that no one seemed to hear. Cassidy’s screaming fit had everyone hypnotized, but me.
I wanted to be like Turquoise Dress (I guess that’s what I would call the girl who’d stared at me earlier). It was only my first night at Washington Arts, and I wanted to get out of here.
Skye
After the early morning confrontation with Cassidy, her Band Sluts, and Shi Huangdi, I needed another coffee refill. Here’s an insider tip for those of you who don’t go to WashArts: Coffee is a necessity. It doesn’t matter what time it is, or how little money you have left on your debit card; Starbucks = Status.
My friend Ash worked at the Starbucks kiosk in the dining hall. He wasn’t an Unusual Suspect, but we’ve been friends since freshman year. His family wasn’t very well off back in Kentucky. They weren’t poor (obviously, because Washington Arts is not a cheap school), but they didn’t have the income to give Ash an allowance like the rest of us. He had 7 other brothers and sisters back in Kentucky.
It was already 11 am by the time I was showered and all ready to head out for the day. Classes didn’t start until tomorrow, so I had a lot of time to kill before the party tonight. The morning rush at Starbucks had died down and Ash stood behind the counter chatting with a familiar looking guy. I think he was Donte’s roommate.
“Hey there!” I cried, slamming my hands on the counter and greeting my friend. I hadn’t seen Ash since June and I had missed him all summer long. We Skyped frequently, but cyber-Ash didn’t compare to the real thing. He was perfection.
“Hi, Skylar.” He drawled adorably in his Kentucky accent. He was the only person who I let call me by my full first name. Whenever my mother called me Skylar, I assumed she was pissed at me.
“I’m pissed” I stated, slipping onto one of the barstools in front of the counter
“What happened now?” he asked sarcastically, giving me that goofy smile I missed so much these past few months “It’s only the first day! Tall, grande, or venti?”
“Venti.” the guy who was standing with Ash behind the counter smirked. Who the hell are you?
“I was having coffee with my Unusuals in the common room, catching up, having a really good time,” I rambled on as Ash prepared my usual latte (he knew what I liked. He didn’t even need to ask) and listened intently “and in walks the Street Corner’s finest” I groaned
“Ooh” he shuddered. He knew exactly who I was talking about. He’d been there for me after what happened with Michael and Cassidy last spring “Cat fight?”
“More like a showdown” he handed me my latte and I took a long sip. Coffee soothed my soul, just like Ash did.
“Uh, hey, Ash?” the other guy turned around and I got a better look of his face. He was really tall and really weird-looking, with blue eyes and a mess of blonde hair. He had a mumbling, sketchy voice that reminded me of the homeless man who stood outside the 7-Eleven back home in Annapolis.
“Yeah, dude?” he seemed bugged that this guy was interrupting our conversation
“I broke the machine again”
“Dude!” he cried, exasperated. He gave me an apologetic look “Sorry Skye, but I gotta fix this. I’ll meet up with you at party?” he grinned warmly at me
I broke out in a full grin, my annoyance at Cassidy and her Band Sluts diminished. I knew that coming to see Ash was a good idea—he could make everything better.
“Wait, I haven’t heard about a party?” the other guy perked up. Ash just gave him a really dirty look and pushed him aside to work on the mess he made.
“Oh, it’s just for Newbauma’s finest. Nothing personal!” I turned on my heel and made my way back to the dorm rooms.
“See ya later Skylar!” Ash called, throwing me his trademark grin
I heard a flash, and I knew the Sketchy Barista was taking a picture of my retreating ass. Might as well give him a show.
When I walked back in my dorm, I saw Jersey glued to her glowing Macbook screen, looking totally zombie-fied.
“Jersey!” I closed the door behind me and stepped further inside. I couldn’t believe our room was this messy on the first day. Jersey’s Forever 21 and my Pacsun clothes littered the floor along with eyeliner, pencils (mine), rolls of film (Jersey’s), Vans sneakers, and old coffee cups. Was my caffeine addiction really that bad?
“Huh?” she looked up, wide eyes dazed. Was she alright? Had the second-hand marijuana odor filling the hallway outside gotten to her?
“Are you alright?” I asked
“Oh! Yeah!” she squeaked “I just found the COOLEST blog over the summer!” her eyes faced me but I could see she was trying to look back at the computer. Dork.
“Really?” I wanted to check what was so ‘cool’ that Jersey wasn’t paying attention to me. I stepped behind her desk chair and looked over at the computer screen.
It was a Tumblr (not a Quill photo blog, so this had to be good) filled with high-quality photographs of different cities and countries and the people in them. Jersey was looking at a black-and-white photo of a dark-haired woman in big shades on a Vespa in what looked like Rome. Ok, I had to admit, the photos were really good. This wasn’t one of those annoying poser Tumblr blogs of preppy softball girls trying to be emotional and artsy. This guy was legit, whoever he was.
“Isn’t it so good?” she hadn’t been this excited since we found out Jason Mraz was performing at our junior prom.
“Do you know this guy?” I asked, trying to be engaged. Photo blogs weren’t really my thing. Jersey’s area of study was photography, and mine was creative writing (hence the many pencils on the floor) with a minor focus in makeup artistry.
“I WISH!” she rolled her eyes to the ceiling “but I will someday!” she added determinedly “His username is ‘6FeetUndrTheSun”. I mean, how romantic is that? Do you really think anyone this talented is in high school”
“Grammy winners go here!” I reasoned.
“Regardless. This guy has experience.”
“Oh-kay..” I drawled, “I’m gonna go shower now, so I don’t offend people at the party. Maybe you should do the same, poopy-pants.” I implied that she needed to get off the computer
“Really? I smell?” she was so absorbed in this guy’s blog, I don’t think she really heard me. She was looking at a sepia photo of the Eiffel Tower. Impressive…
“Jer-sey! The other Unusuals are coming in an hour to get ready! And if you’re not shampooed and conditioned by the time they arrive, we’re putting Nair in your Herbal Essences bottle.”
“Oh shoot!” she exited out of Tumblr and shot out of her chair, grabbing her hair products—strewn over her unmade sheets—like they were her lifeline.
In an hour, as promised, all of the Unusuals—sans the Y chromosome—were crammed in our dorm room getting ready for our party (T-minus one hour till party time at seven). Diglett’s Cave’s new demo was blasting on my stereo, but we couldn’t hear the music over our laughter and chatter. It looked like the America’s Next Top Model dressing room had exploded in here (oops). Ready for some fashion that will blow your mind?
Last summer I visited my cousin Emily in New York City, and she took me shopping in SoHo, the hippest shopping area in Manhattan. I was wearing this amazing sequined turquoise minidress with a tube top and a sweetheart neckline. On my feet were banana-yellow (contrast is always good, according to Jessica) four-inch pumps. My auburn hair tumbled down my back in thick waves and I lined my eyes with a sparkly charcoal-colored pencil. I’d glossed my lips with a tasty peach gloss. Poi-fect.
Jersey, the whimsical bitch that she is, wore a one-shoulder pink ballerina dress that came to mid-thigh. I envied her tan and petite figure, but I still thought she was beautiful. I would have to protect her from the boys would be all over her tonight. She wore gold strappy sandals that made her look more like a Greek goddess. Lucy had tackled her long tousled curls with a flat iron. I brushed some gold eye shadow on her eyelids and dusted some bronzer over her shoulders and cleavage—for fun!
Jane, as always, looked like she came straight out of a Sailor Moon character. She wore a tight leather corset over a spider-y gray top, with a red-and-black plaid schoolgirl skirt with crosses emblazoned along the ruffled hem. Her accessories were very “vampire”: long black fingerless gloves, spiked rings, loud Gothic jewelry, a Victorian-style lace choker, layered studded belts, and high-heeled black combat boots. Her lipstick was deep-red, her dark hair was loose and angelic, her mascara was dark, but she was all Jane. On anyone else, the hodgepodge would look ridiculous and overdone but on Jane it worked.
Lucy wore a bright yellow form-fitting tube dress (she resembled a ducky. She loved duckies)—comfortable enough to perform. Her platinum blonde hair was scrunched up in tight curls pulled half-up in a Snooki-style pouf. Maryah wore her trademark skater beanie and a vintage extra-large Guns N Roses shirt that was scrunched up—courtesy of Jessica—into a rockin’ minidress, with her studded combat boots. Jessica, ever the dominant fashionista, wore one of her best creations: a sapphire-blue A-line maxidress with a rhinestone-studded waist underneath the bust. Stella wore a short yellow tutu with a studded green tank top and a big purple bow-headband that we had to force her to wear.
“Jersey, you look hawt!” Maryah bellowed, pelting a Cheez-it at her head as she posed in front of the three-fold mirror
“Who you trying to impress?” Stella laughed, pulling up her tank top—which was drooping too low—and shaking her head. She was upset because we were making her dress like a girl. At least we let her wear green—her favorite color.
“No one, really” Jersey seemed distracted, probably thinking about that 6-Feet guy or whatever his username was. “Can someone take a picture of me in this dress? I wanna post it on Tumblr and maybe 6FeetUndrTheSun will see it”
“6FeetUndrTheSun?” Maryah asked, perking up
“Dude, I love his blog!” Lucy exclaimed from where she was pinning her hair up at my vanity
“I know, right?” Jersey beamed, getting that starry look in her eyes. I could tell she was smitten with this Internet dude who was apparently more famous than I thought.
“Am I the only one in this room who doesn’t know—or care—about 6FeetUndrTheSun?” I asked over the zeal that had taken over my dorm room
Everyone looked at me with either shock or disgust. I guess I was.
“Where’s your camera Jersey?” Jane volunteered, pulling at her gloves
“Over there on my bed” Jersey pointed to her bed
“So Skye, has Ash proposed yet?” Jessica smirked, playing with my hair. She was OCD about hair.
“Shut up, you know we’re just best friends.” I threw my panda bear pillow pet at her.
“I’ve seen the way he looks at you,” Jersey piped up, “He loves you. Always has.”
I wasn’t comfortable discussing my relationship with Ash, even with my Unusuals, so I changed the subject. Ash and I had a weird type of friendship. “So, has it been confirmed about what Fernando will be wearing?”
“Or not wearing?” Maryah smirked, raising her eyebrows
“I don’t know why you guys find him so studly. His abs aren’t that impressive.” Lucy rolled her eyes.
“Yes they are” I heard Jessica mutter as she ran a curling iron through my hair one last time.
She had the nerve to ask about my friendship with Ash yet she had a secret of her own. It’d been obvious she had a crush on Fernando since the sixth grade. He was the one guy who never wore clothes but still looked good—I guess that was the bad boy-appeal equivalent for fashion designers. She was also happy that a boy had grown taller than her five-foot-ten frame. Designers and models were notoriously tall together here at the Academy.
“Hey guys, I hear Vladimir setting up his equipment in the common room. We should get going” I asked, looking over at Jersey poising for Jane. She’d been making Jane retake one photo for the past five minutes. She was seriously wasting time.
“You know what else I hear?” Stella interjected, sitting on the edge of Jersey’s bed. She was smiling wide with her gossip-y grin, so I knew this had to be good.
“What?” My Unusuals asked, craving gossip. They were more distracted than a five-year-old in the Burger King Playland. We were going to be late.
“Vladimir’s older brother transferred this year. Heard he got expelled from the Russian Royal Military Academy or some shit place like that” Stella was all ‘go America’. She also had a way with hot, older men—she was a tomboy, so she never had to flirt like we did. The boys came to her (damn it Stella…)
“Ooh, bad boys” Lucy grinned. Her hair was perfect, and she knew it too. Maryah kept looking at her, eyes blank but yet full of deep emotion.
“I KNOW, RIGHT!” Stella threw her gloved hands in the air, totally excited “I also hear he’s sexy as hell, but gets around…”
“I like a challenge. It’s about time we get some new bait around here,” I pursed my lips, prepping my inner diva, “You guys ready or what?”
“READY!” my Unusuals all screamed in unison.
“Cool, let’s peace out.”
**********
Catherine
“You’re from Salem? That’s so cool!”
Cassidy Love, Linzay’s friend, stood over me as I sat on the edge of my new bed with her other friend, Jinx, working on my hair behind me. Cassidy was smiling sweetly at me, but I couldn’t stop staring at her lip piercings—which resembled cobra fangs—or the rest of her. She was a walking Halloween costume.
“Umm, thanks” I stammered shyly, not really knowing what else to say. This was the fifth question she bombarded me with since she walked in our dorm ten minutes ago.
As promised, Linzay’s friends, Cassidy and another girl named Jinx, arrived in our dorm to get ready for the party. I could hear the music already beginning to play from the common rooms downstairs, and I was dying to leave, but Cassidy was adamant on being “fashionably late”. Also, the minute Jinx stepped through the threshold into our dorm she took one look at me and insisted I needed one “hell of a makeover” before going to this party.
I was flattered by the offer, but I wasn’t one-hundred-percent sure if I even wanted a makeover from these girls. They wore lots of black but not in the edgy, cool way I admired. They wore lots of black in that scary, over-the-top way they warned you about in Sunday school.
When I first looked at Cassidy and Jinx ten minutes ago I was instantly alarmed. Cassidy wore a cropped gray top that showed a lot of skin and her neon green bra straps, with tight leather pants and sky-high snakeskin heels. Her black makeup was scary, but what was more terrifying were those snakelike piercings on her lips. Though I’ve seen a lot of hair dye walking around campus for the first time today, her greasy, half-dyed orange-and-ashy-blonde brought up this weird feeling in my stomach.
But how she dressed didn’t seem to matter because Cassidy seemed really nice. Like Linzay had said, she was really taken by me. She was interested in my life before Washington Arts and said she couldn’t wait to show me around the city. I simply smiled and nodded my head, feeling like a balloon about to burst. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this welcome before.
Jinx sat cross-legged on my bed behind me as she worked rigorously on my hair for the party. Jinx didn’t look that much different than Cassidy and Linzay, except that she had twice more facial piercings, a severely-short bob half-dyed turquoise, and a bigger frame. She told me her area of study was cosmetology. Before coming over she’d done hair and makeup for Cassidy and Linzay, who was sprawled across her bed waiting for us to finish up. She hadn’t changed her outfit much, except for swapping her baggy band shirt for a silver midriff tee and slathering her orange hair with a gallon of sickly sweet-smelling products.
Jinx had already finished her makeup—I was dying to know what it looked like, but she refused to show me until she was “absolutely” done—and was pulling a hot straightening iron through my long dark hair. I’d planned on wearing a white lace dress with satin slippers and pearls, but she totally rejected it. She said dressing like a “goody-two-shoes” would turn everyone off, and I wouldn’t be popular. I was sure that was the one thing I wanted at Washington Arts: to be what I wasn’t at Holy Cross. Popular.
So instead she was making me wear something she pulled out from Linzay’s closet. It was a black strapless minidress with a laced-up corset, dark lace fingerless gloves, and matching strappy heels. When I first saw myself in it in the three-fold mirror I practically had a heart attack. I looked so different—and not in the “good, ladylike” way I was so used to. It was risqué. It was revolutionary. It was one of those dresses that challenged school codes and shook up the very foundations of society. It was practically a sin for me to wear it—let alone look this good and feel this good. I felt… alive. In a really strange way, I guess. I don’t know. I never really felt anything like it. A part of me deep inside felt like I’d just woken up for the very first time.
“Are you almost done Jinx?” Linzay whined
“Shut up bitch” Jinx muttered, pulling her iron through my hair one last time. I tensed up at the word, even though I heard the three girls say a lot worse since they came in.
“So, Katie,” Cassidy continued interrogating me
“Catherine” I corrected
“What’re you studying?” she asked, batting her eyelashes weirdly
“Um, creative writing?” I responded uncertainly. Was that considered a “cool” major here? What would she think?
Before I could take in Cassidy’s reaction, Jinx burst out laughing. It sounded really obnoxious and rubbed me the wrong way.
“Creative writing?” she guffawed “That’s so lame!”
“Jinx!” Cassidy snapped at her, eyes suddenly switching from sincere to menacing, so much that Linzay recoiled on her bed. Jinx stopped laughing and I felt her tense up behind me.
Cassidy quickly turned her eyes back to me, sincere once more. “Sorry Caroline, she can be a real bitch sometimes” she said to me, saying the word with extra harshness.
Jinx shifted around uncomfortably, obviously bothered. She’d finished with her iron and was touching up my finished hair. It felt hot and dry, but I guess that was a good thing.
“It’s Catherine” I corrected again
“Hey, isn’t that what Skye’s studying?” Linzay piped up
“Who’s Skye?” I asked Cassidy
But she wasn’t looking at me anymore. She was giving Linzay another deadly look that seemed so unlike her. I saw the color drain from her face. Jinx stopped finishing up my hair and I felt her tense up even more.
“No one” Cassidy folded her arms across her chest, clearly bothered “anyway, mine’s modeling. That’s how I met Jinx”
“Freshman year we worked on a project together for our final exam. She had to do a cover shoot for Glamour and I had to turn her into a Japanese doll”
“You made me look so ugly!” she whined
“You looked hot! You always do” Jinx and Linzay said in unison. They sounded monotonous and mechanic, like robots. As if this was something they had to repeat to her several times every day.
“That’s what I like to hear” Cassidy purred, twisting a strand of oily hair around a black acrylic fingernail.
I could hear a loud rave song blasting from the common rooms downstairs. I looked at the time on my alarm clock. Seven-fifteen. We were so late.
“Um, shouldn’t we…?” I timidly asked, pointing at the door. I was about to explode with anxious excitement, and I honestly couldn’t wait any longer.
“Here” Jinx impatiently shoved a mirror in my hands. I looked in the mirror… and gasped.
But before I could say anything—before I could even react—Cassidy grabbed my wrist and pulled me up to my feet.
“You look so hot!” she gushed “now c’mon, let’s go”
With Jinx and Linzay in tow, Cassidy pulled me out the dorm room and didn’t let go of my wrist until we were in the middle of the super-packed hallway outside the common rooms. She shoved her way through the loud, dense crowd of teenagers—all with neon highlights in their shaggy hair and dressed in eccentric, hipster-ish outfits—mobbing the entrance, while dragging me through the “party massacre”.
She let go of me when she pulled me inside, and once again I felt my mouth drop to the floor.
The lights. Flashing and throbbing, and dancing around the spacious room with the hundreds of wild, artsy teenagers mobbing every corner and floorboard. The octave-breaking, hip-hop beat pulsated through the room, shaking the walls and shattering my ears. I could feel the beat of the music penetrate my skin and touch my soul, so that I became hypnotized with the rest of the madly dancing crowd. It hasn’t been fifteen minutes but already empty kegs and crushed cans of Red Bull littered the neon rugs. A girl in a green tutu and yellow tank top was dancing sporadically on one of the orange leather chaises, her skin looking purple in the flashing lights, looking totally wasted on Monster. Throngs of girls with hot-pink hair in purple leggings danced like they were on MTV, and there were more gyrating couples than I could handle.
Cassidy put a hand on my shoulder and dug her long acrylic nails in my exposed flesh. She put her deep-red lips up to my ear and purred with a satisfied grin,
“Welcome to Washington Arts, new girl. Stick with me and I promise you won’t get lost”
**********
Skye
Walking into the common room with my friends by my side, I took in my surroundings. Every WashArts party rocked, but nothing beat the secret dorm parties. Shi Huangdi had her night off tonight and was probably over at a friend’s house watching Law and Order—or whatever dictators did on their nights off—and the party was in full force.
The aforementioned Fernando was tuning his bass, shirtless, in the center of the room with a cluster of underclassmen female admirers circling him, trailing his every word. I thought I saw Jessica, a junior, in the group. I laughed to myself. She wasn’t fooling anyone. Our Russian friend, Vladimir Bolshevik was dropping some beats on his soundboard by the fireplace. Vlad didn’t have any groupies, but I knew he was okay with that. He would go ape-shit if a clumsy girl spilled her beer on his equipment. I saw Donte walk in, dressed in a purple flannel over a Red Hot Chili Peppers shirt. A particularly handsome boy who I didn’t recognize made eye contact with me and grinned flirtatiously. I winked back at the stranger, who then patted the empty seat next to him, beaconing at me to join him. I stuck my tongue out at him and went to join Jersey, who looked tipsy already. Here we go.
“Heyyy” Jersey drawled as I approached her, “Howzit going?”
“We’ve been at the party for 15 minutes and you’re already tipsy. Nice job, lightweight.” I rolled my eyes, “Who’s that new dude? He seems rather coy.”
“Simple words, Skye, I’m under the influence.”
“He seems like a man-whore!” I spelled out in Jersey terms.
“Oh! That’s Demetri Bolshevik. Vladimir’s older brother.”
“The one Stella told us about?” I confirmed.
“Yeah. Cute, right?” she grinned drunkenly.
“He’s alright.” I replied distractedly. Where was Ash?
Some guy sidled up to us, possibly the one person in the room drunker than Jersey. “Heyyy. I’m Tommy. You’rree kinda cuuute.” He said to Jersey. It was the pervy barista from Starbucks this morning. Donte had said that he was a douche.
“Later, Jerz.” I walked away from them and gave my friend a parting look.
“Hey, Skylar.”
I whipped around, “Ash!” Finally.
“You look gorgeous,” he hugged me. I knew he’d have a comment.
He looked cute in his Starbucks uniform, but when he was in normal clothes he was absolute perfection. His hair was a work of art itself. It was sandy-brown, like a caramel Frapp (my favorite summertime drink), with chunky gold highlights. He wore it straight and over his ears in messy waves, and side-swept bangs that just brushed over his wide emerald-green eyes, which crinkled at the corners when he smiled. He wore a tight gray t-shirt and dark blue straight-leg jeans.
“Likewise.” I replied with a grin.
Ash was so much fun to flirt with. While Donte and I were strictly platonic friends, Ash and I liked to “test the waters” and mess around. Not actually mess around. We just have the kind of playful flirtation that is completely perfect as is.
“Want a Pop?” he asked teasingly. Ash knew I didn’t drink beer—it was disgusting—so he made a huge deal of the fact that I stayed 100% sober. I’d let Jersey drink enough for the both of us.
“Yes, I’d love a POP.” I rolled my eyes at the word. Secretly, his Kentucky accent gave me the chills.
He gave me a little tickle and I swatted his hand away, “You really do look amazing. I’ll be right back.”
I decided to do another lap while Ash was getting my drink. Diglett’s Cave had just started their set, and they sounded even better than they had last year. I watched, amused, as Fernando tore his shirt off during one of Stella’s notoriously long guitar solos. Jessica saddled up to me, with Jane in tow.
“Hey!” She yelled over the music, “They look good up there!”
I raised an eyebrow knowingly, “Yeah! They do,” I knew for sure that she meant Fernando looked good up there.
“Don’t turn around.” Jane suddenly warned me.
Jane should’ve known me well enough to know that saying “Don’t turn around” meant “Skye! Turn around!” Behind me, Cassidy and her Band Sluts were sauntering into the common room. As if on cue, the band started playing their loudest song, which also had some scream-o in it. It was called “The Devil is Approaching”. Fitting, no?
“Who’s that girl with them?” Jessica asked. I too had just noticed an unfamiliar face that was walking next to Linzay.
“Must be Christine’s replacement,” Jane stated knowingly.
“She doesn’t look like Christine at all.” Christine was Linzay’s roommate last year. Rumor has it that she was expelled last Spring for smoking cocaine in the rare books room in the library. This new girl was dressed like a Band Slut, in some black and lace minidress contraption, but she had the kind of innocence in her face that reminded me of the Linzay I was friends with last year.
“She’s cute.” Donte popped out of nowhere. I gave him a quick hug.
“She’d be prettier if she was wearing jade green. All that black clashes with her pale skin.” Jessica commented with a designer’s perspective.
“And without all that gunky black eyeshadow on her face.” I added. While Jessica was a fashionista, I spend hours on end in Sephora, usually dropping $100-plus on makeup.
I was expecting Cassidy to come over here and start something, especially because Shi Huangdi wasn’t there to witness. However, she just walked right by, with her Band Sluts in tow, merely shooting me a dirty look and nothing more.
“Did you see that?!” I asked Jessica, shocked. The band had stopped playing and Vladimir Bolshevik had taken the stage once again.
“See what?” Stella jumped in, sweaty and pumped up from her performance.
“Cassidy just walked by Skye—without a word.” Jane seemed to read my mind.
“It must have something to do with that new girl with them.” Stella observed.
“Cassidy is probably trying to seem all sweet and nurturing so she can adopt a third groupie.” Jessica was watching Cassidy approach Fernando and his entourage, leaving Jinx, Linzay, and the new girl behind. I watched her face go from curiosity to disappointment. Poor thing.
“I feel sorry for her.” I shook my head.
Well Washington Arts, I thought, another one bites the dust.
Catherine
“Cassidy?”
But she couldn’t hear me. She was too busy talking to this really tall, shirtless kid drenched in sweat, holding an electric guitar (he’d been part of the band that’d been playing when we walked in). He’d been glowing, surrounding by a posse of ecstatic freshman girls, but the lights went out in his face at the sight of Cassidy.
Well, she probably wouldn’t have heard me anyway—some short guy with floppy blonde hair and giant headphones was dropping rave beats on a soundboard on the other side of the room, and it shook Newbauma Hall with a 7.8 seismic magnitude. And I mean, I guess it was alright to ditch when I had no idea what…
“Hey, do you guys know—?”
But I was talking to air. Air that was pungent with the smell of Ketel One, sweat, and way too much Axe hairspray.
“Catherine!” Linzay bellowed over the music. I turned around and saw her waving her hand wildly in the air, beckoning me to come over. She and Jinx had slipped away without me noticing and they were sitting cross-legged on the floor around a littered coffee table with three other kids. Two boys and a girl with cropped hot-pink hair, dressed spikier than a cheesy horror film monster. One of the boys had a bag filled with some substance that they were passing it around the circle, each taking their own share. I walked over curiously and noticed that whatever was in the bag shone weirdly in the red and purple club lights flashing above our heads.
Linzay pointed to the bag that’d been passed along to Jinx, who was scooping out a handful of the white powdery stuff for herself.
Oh God. I knew what that was.
“Want some?” Linzay asked, smiling awkwardly. She was being nice and polite, but I could tell she was still not that used to the idea of me yet. It would take some time, I guess.
“Umm…” I faltered.
Once you graduated from the Lower School into the Upper School at Holy Cross, the PTSA got so worked up about their good little Christian daughters “growing up too fast” and turning bad. Our parents and the school were so worried that we would somehow wake up one morning and decide to become lesbians or strippers that every Friday afternoon they’d pull us out of seventh-period to sit us down in the chapel pews and make us watch the most boring after-school-specials on everything from drugs (shameful) to teen pregnancy (taboo) to homosexuality (you’re going to hell). It was plastered in our brains that doing these sorts of things would turn us into possessed, evil freaks like Linda Blair in The Exorcist.
So of course I recognized what was in that bag that was being passed around. I knew what Linzay was offering me, and I knew what I was going to say.
“No, I’m fine” I stiffly blurted out, and walked away.
As I walked off, ignoring Linzay’s questioning calls behind me, I felt freaked out by what just happened but I felt more disappointed and, well, lost. It was one thing for Cassidy to ditch me for that shirtless guitar guy—I looked over and saw her waving her hands at him, both looking pretty pissed—but it was another to have the only two people I knew in a party full of complete strangers to engage in something I was unwilling to take part of. I hadn’t been exactly abandoned, but I was stranded and helpless. I strode off to one of the walls, away from the dancing scene in the middle of the room, and looked around. I saw nothing but unfamiliar faces. Everyone was having an awesome time with friends they’ve known forever, and I was standing all alone in a hot dress with absolutely no idea what to do.
Crossing my arms over my chest, I walked over to a makeshift wet bar up against the right wall. It looked like the only other place in the room where there weren’t that many people hanging around but I wouldn’t look awkward and sad if I just stayed there. On my way I passed the soundboard—my eardrums would be out of service tomorrow—and a small group of “faces”. There was a girl in an awesome sapphire dress, another sweaty girl in a green tutu—I recognized her as the lead guitarist in the band that’d just been playing—, a guy in a purple flannel shirt who looked pretty safe and an identical-looking girl dressed up like Dracula’s mistress, and a pretty girl with gold shadow-y eyes that were... staring right at me. She looked away when I noticed her staring but I kept on walking, determined to get myself out of this crazy, strange scene and over to the wet bar.
Surprisingly there was only one guy sitting at the bar when I walked over. He was cradling a bottle of some foreign-looking beer in his hands and had an unlit cigarette wedged between his lips. When I got closer I could see in the lights that he was really cute. Actually, “cute” was an understatement. He had tousled, dark-brown hair and a pretty face good enough for a European aftershave ad. When I sat down three stools away from him, he looked up at me… and I saw the devilish lights in his bedroom eyes.
“What do you have?” I asked the blonde guy behind the bar, trying not to look over at the guy. I couldn’t tell if he was still staring at me. It’d be better if he wasn’t, but a part of me really hoped he was.
“Red Bull, Monster, Rock Star, Ketel One, Bud…” the bartender was a freshman who looked like he’d had nothing else better to do.
“Never mind” I gave up with a sigh. Hot Guy laugh-snorted, and I quickly peeked over at him. Well, he hadn’t forgotten about me. That was new, at least for a boy. I squirmed uncomfortably in my barstool.
“Afraid the police will catch you?”
I looked back over at him in disbelief but sure enough, Hot Guy was staring right at me with those I’m-up-to-no-good eyes and a coy grin.
“No, I just… don’t drink” I replied uncertainly.
If God had planned on this being the night I’d talk to a boy for the first time, why couldn’t He had given me one that wasn’t so damn good-looking? I wasn’t that ready or experienced.
He raised his eyebrows. He thought this was funny.
“You don’t drink?” he scoffed
I nodded my head. “You certainly don’t look like you’re that innocent” he was looking hungrily at my dress now
My instincts told me to shield my body with my arms and turn the other way, but his eyes had held my gaze for a good three seconds and I was paralyzed. Also, the way he’d said “innocent” sent shivers down my spine. He had this smooth, gravelly voice that was laced with a cool accent I couldn’t put a place on.
I wanted to say something back to that, but my lips quivered with no words coming out. I resigned and instead asked,
“What’s your name?”
“Demetri Bolshevik. You?” he tilted his bottle at me
Russian. That was it. I recognized the foreign label on his beer bottle—it was written in Slavic letters.
“Catherine Polizzi”
“Oh, Italian” Demetri smirked, seeming happy with that info “I thought you were as crazy about the booze as we were?”
“It’s not booze. It’s wine” I corrected, but he ignored me.
“I’ve never seen you before” he pointed out before taking a big swig of his beer
“I’m new. Today’s my first day”
“Cool. I like new girls” he winked. My heart somersaulted in my chest.
“It’s my first day here too… sort of” he rolled his eyes
“Really?” I asked, confused.
“Yeah, they kicked me out over some bullshit freshman year. So my dad got pissed and sent me to this military school for messed-up kids. It was worse than this place, and they kicked me out too. So Dad threatened to send a nuke if Wash Arts didn’t let me back in, and now I’m back”
“Cool story, bro” It was a response I’d picked up from Linzay earlier that day
“Huh?” he furrowed his eyebrows
“Never mind” I blushed “wait, why would your dad threaten to bomb the school?”
Demetri laughed “No, I’m not sure what he did. Negotiate, threaten, whatever. He’s the prime minister of freaking Russia—you never really know, just like with your mafia buddies” he winked again
But I was too shocked to really notice. “Wait, your dad’s the—”
“Yo Demetri, give me some of that”
I looked over and saw the DJ with the floppy blonde hair walking over to us (he was shorter than I thought. He had to reach my shoulders). I hadn’t noticed that the band from earlier—their drum set said “Diglett’s Cave”—was playing a grungy, scream-o number on a makeshift stage. I saw the tutu girl and Shirtless Boy shredding their guitars… and Cassidy ranting angrily at a blank-faced Linzay and Jinx across the room.
“Catherine,” oh Jesus, I loved the way he said my name “this is my little brother, Vladimir”
“Dude, I’m a year younger than you. I’m not ‘little’” Vladimir rolled his eyes. His thick DJ headphones, which looked like they cost a thousand dollars, hung professionally from around his neck.
Though he had the same slight accent, his voice wasn’t nearly as smooth or gravelly as his brother’s—it was more mumbling and rocky. He also wasn’t as pretty. Well, I’d seen worse-looking, like in my church group and on TV, but he paled next to his brother.
“Vladimir, this is Catherine, the Mafia Boss’s daughter” Demetri waved a hand at me, introducing me in a way that made Braille-like goose bumps pop all over my skin.
Vladimir, grabbing his own bottle of Russian beer, took one look at me. Whatever tired, irritated look he’d had melted into a face of surprised awe.
I smiled and waved my fingers. “Hi, so nice to meet you. You’re a really good DJ”
“Th-thanks” Vladimir stammered, lips turning up in a wide grin.
“Vlad’s really good with technology. That’s how he got in” Demetri nudged him in the ribs with his elbow, but his eyes were glued on my dress
“But this is an art school” I pointed out, puzzled
“He means I got in for my graphic art” Vladimir nudged him back, harder. I noticed his cheeks were unusually red. “What about you?” he averted his wide, awed eyes back to me, grinning wider.
“Creative writing” I hesitantly replied. I expected a reaction like Jinx’s, but Demetri shrugged and lifted his bottle to his lips. Vladimir’s grin fell slightly.
“Oh, that’s…”
“What?” I asked, scared that I screwed up again.
“Nothing, I just hate writing. I’m all about computers… hey, wait a minute. Are you new here?”
“If she wasn’t, I wouldn’t have introduced her” Demetri pointed out sarcastically, still sizing me up in my dress. If lights were dancing in Vladimir’s eyes, then the lights in Demetri’s were grinding.
“If you want, I can definitely show you around campus tomorrow. You know, before classes? I’m usually…”
“Heeey Dim-Dim”
Cassidy popped out of nowhere and sauntered over to Demetri, grinning sultrily. She slapped Vladimir out of the way and stopped behind Demetri’s stool, putting her hands on both his shoulders. Demetri snapped his eyes away from me and became absorbed in Cassidy, grinning sultrily back and looking a bit tipsy. I felt a pang of hurt. How could he just lose interest in me like that?
And how could Cassidy just abandon me and then pop back up out of nowhere?
“Hey Cassidy, what--?”
“Nice to have you back, big guy” she purred, massaging his shoulders. He really liked that.
“I was elected ambassador, which means I’m supposed to show all the freshman and transfer students their way around campus. I’m usually out by the digital art lab in the mornings with my friends. I’m sure you’ll love them…”
I tuned out Vladimir and watched Cassidy flirt with Demetri right in front of me. I wasn’t quite sure what I was feeling, but I didn’t like it. I was really confused. This was just a really, really overwhelming night.
“Yeah, it’s been way too long Cassidy” Demetri’s dark, bedroom eyes lingered away from Cassidy’s made-up face right down to her poorly-covered chest.
“Cass! What gives?!”
Shirtless Boy stormed out of nowhere (what was with these Wash Arts kids? Were they half-ghost or something?) and straight up to Cassidy. Even though he only lightly grabbed her shoulder, she punched his hand away like he’d assaulted her.
“What the fuck Fernando?!” she screeched, spinning around to face him full-on. As she turned her orange-blonde hair whipped around, resembling flames. “Didn’t I tell you to back. Off?!”
Whoa.
I looked around the common rooms and realized I wasn’t the only one completely stunned. Maybe I was the only one who had no idea why Cassidy was screaming like a banshee witch at this poor, shirtless guy—who looked really mad at something—but everyone else had stopped whatever it was they’d been doing to watch from wherever they were in the room. Digger’s Cave (or whatever they were called) had stopped playing—Shirtless Guy must’ve seen Cassidy flirting with Demetri and stormed off the stage to come over here, abruptly ending whatever song they’d been playing—and were watching in concerned dread that rivaled everyone else's thirsty anticipation.
How could Cassidy just put on a show like this??
“Gosh, you say you want to be in a relationship with me and the next minute you go around on every boy behind my back! I just don’t understand you sometimes Cass!!” Shirtless Boy shouted, clearly fed up
“Christ, are you really that stupid Fernando? Are you really that fucked-up? I thought I made it clear to you in Spanish 3 that this wasn’t a serious relationship! I slept with you but what is it that you want from me?!” she was throwing her hands in the air overdramatically again.
Everyone in the room seemed ready to grab popcorn and some first-row seats. Vladimir looked highly uncomfortable and backed several feet away, but his eyes still lingered on me, whereas Demetri continued sipping his Russian beer, totally unfazed. I watched in complete shock.
“I just want you to stop playing me like I’m some toy!!” Shirtless Boy’s hands flew to his wavy brown hair in angry exasperation, redder than Cassidy’s lipstick
As Cassidy and Shirtless Boy screamed at each other, both wildly flinging their arms and stomping their feet and cursing in each other’s faces—while I sat back in uncomfortable, overwhelming panic—I noticed a flash of sequin turquoise and auburn curls storm past the fighting couple. The forceful slam of the common room entrance was like a gunshot that no one seemed to hear. Cassidy’s screaming fit had everyone hypnotized, but me.
I wanted to be like Turquoise Dress (I guess that’s what I would call the girl who’d stared at me earlier). It was only my first night at Washington Arts, and I wanted to get out of here.
♠ ♠ ♠
This is a really long chapter but enjoy! You'll be able to tell we had a lot of fun planning everyone's outfits!