“Right here in the library,” I tell her. “There’s an official private room on the top floor, but it’s small and pretty dark, so we just take a table. The top floor’s never busy. We just talk about our projects once a week, to divide tasks, and handle the rest remotely. It’s pretty chill. You can have your own page with a project, or illustrate something else. We can brainstorm. The next meeting’s tonight, if you’re up for it?”
“Sure!”
We’re interrupted by Dez popping by our table with a drink and a slice of pie for Claire and a refill for me.
“Oh, you’re the bestest bestie in the world!” Claire coos.
“And I’m what, chopped liver?” I retort, secretly agreeing as I sip my fresh drink. “I’ll come to the counter to pay for the second.”
“No need,” Dez purrs with a wicked grin. “So now you owe me, and you have to come to the party this weekend.”
I groan.
“Comeon,” she whines. “You know what it’s like out there. The other girls might be nice to me, but they talk about their collections of designer handbags and the stock market exchange. It’s so much more fun with you guys around.”
Claire tilts her head. “There’s an open party?”
Byopen, she means open to the likes of me, a non-legacy not shacked up with one of the golden boys—or girls. All their parties are private, invite-only affairs, but most of the time, they’re solely reserved for those living on their side of town. They’re that elitist.
I know it’s not my friends’ fault, and I’m more than happy to stay away from the lot of them in any case, but I remember how outraged I was last year at the ridiculous social divide between the dorms and the private houses. Normal frat houses aren’t that secular.
“Yeah, Saturday night. The sharks are throwing it this time.”
I groan again. “Pass.”
“What?” Dez pouts. “You were half convinced.”
“Maybe.BeforeI knew it was at the sharks’.” I make a face. “Pretty sure I’m not invited anyway.”
“I just invited you.” Before I can retort, Dez adds, “And you know the gate code. If you weren’t welcome, they’d have changed it.”
I open my mouth, but can’t find a rebuke to that. How does Dez even know? Finally, I said, “Fine, but only if Liv and Jack can tag along.”
I grin, knowing I’ve won.
Dez might convince the sharks to put me and maybe even Liv on the guest list. They like fucking with us too much to deny an opportunity to do so on their turf. But there is no way in hell they’ll letJackcross the threshold.
I may be a self-proclaimed nerd, but I have nothing on the rail-thin, bespectacled, badly dressed, acne-riddled, caricature of an archetype that is my STEM friend. The jocks don’t even mock him, generally pretending he doesn’t exist.
Poor Jack. He is fun in his own way, and there is no doubt that out of the three of us, he’ll be the one inventing a super cool piece of tech that’ll make him a billionaire before he hits thirty, but in the meantime, he isn’t exactly winning any popularity contests.
“Deal.”
I direct a doubtful look at my friend. “If we’re not all welcome, I’m not staying.”
She beams. “Trust me, that won’t be a problem.”
17
LILY
By the grace of the excessive amount of coffee I ingested during my free period, I make it until six without taking a nap in any of my classes. With a bit of luck, the journal meeting won’t take long.
We’re a team of five—six including Claire. Marina, Daniel, the freshman fond of cookies, Liv and I, a quiet senior who works completely remotely, and now, Claire.
I doubt any of us except for Marina are passionate aboutRothford Weekly, but the last couple of weeks, we’ve managed to write an article or two each, which filled the six-page paper Marina lovingly prints for no one’s benefit.
Sadly, by the time I get to the fifth floor where we’ve agreed to meet today, I only spot Olivia.