Diana Peterfreund - Rites of Spring (Break)

Demetria gave her a look that said, Bitch, please. “And you don’t want to think that your future Junior League co-president is capable of destroying your stuff. Would blaming this on Kadie wreck your debutante sponsorship?”

Clarissa huffed. “That’s so unfair!”

“I’m with Amy,” Jenny said, straining to steer us back on topic. “Kadie was clearly angry at us back there on the lawn. Let’s go get her. I’m thinking full-scale interrogation. Bright lights, Scotch tape on the eyelids…She’ll cave like an undercooked soufflé.”

“Kadie wouldn’t have had time to pull this off,” Clarissa pointed out. “This kind of damage took more than a few minutes.” And more than a few paint cans.

“Well, if she didn’t act alone…” Demetria was persistent, but we all ignored her.

“And again,” Clarissa said happily, “we return to the others.”

“No,” Jenny said. “Whoever did this knows who we are. I say it’s Kadie. I say we go all Micah Price on her ass.”

“You would,” Clarissa said. “You seem to have gotten over him just fine.”

“Yeah. He was a jerk. Your point?”

“Nothing,” Clarissa said, with an expression that indicated butter would have no business melting in her mouth, as she returned to scrubbing paint off her purse. It was very clearly not nothing. And Jenny knew it.

“If you have something to say, Angel, say it.”

“Two dollars,” said Demetria and I in unison.

Clarissa looked up from her work. “It’s nothing, really. I’m just wondering if it’s the best idea in the world to rebound with a fellow knight.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you don’t,” Clarissa said. “But Amy’s got a broken heart, too. You don’t see her hooking up with another Digger.”

I blushed furiously at this, but no one guessed the true reason.

“Amy’s already had her taste of society incest!” Jenny cried.

“What, so we each get one? Is that how it works?” Clarissa said. “By my count, I’m the only person here who hasn’t tried out the merchandise. Maybe my dad and Kurt Gehry were right. Rose & Grave is turning into a dating club!”

“Whose business is it who I fuck?” Demetria asked from her corner. “And, by the way, it wasn’t even sex. It was just a couple of kisses—but that’s not the point.”

“Yeah? Tell us why Odile’s not here, then,” Clarissa said. “Maybe because it would be too awkward to stay here with you.”

“I don’t know. I’m hardly her keeper.” Demetria seemed to reflect upon how this might sound. “And you aren’t Jenny’s, Clarissa. She could do a lot worse than Harun. And has,” she added under her breath.

Jenny looked appalled. “I really don’t know why you keep saying that. I’m not dating Harun.”

Clarissa threw her hands up. “Amy, you tell them. Tell them what a mess it becomes.”

Oh, it was a mess all right, but not the way Clarissa thought.

“Or doing anything else with him, for that matter,” Jenny went on, though no one seemed to be listening.

Clarissa kept pressuring me. “Tell them how you’re always fighting with George.”

“Oh, yes, do tell us everything about George,” Demetria said sarcastically. “Tell us what you did to keep your sordid little affair out of his C.B.”

“I figured he just ran out of time and Amy ended up on the cutting-room floor,” Jenny offered.

Hey, how did it get to be Bag on Amy Hour? “Guys, please,” I began.

“Yeah, guys, please,” said a voice at the door. We all looked up to see the object of our conversation standing there. “It takes two to tango. And if you wanted to know something, all you had to do was ask me.”

“George—” I started.

But he wasn’t going to listen. He crossed the threshold and walked right by me. “I was never one for secrets. It’s Amy that likes to keep them, isn’t that right?”

I didn’t respond.

“But let me tell you, Jenny, since I also have firsthand knowledge.” George crouched beside her. “Society incest is a really, really bad idea. Just keep that in mind.” And then he straightened. “They’ve called an emergency meeting to deal with the raid. All knights to the tomb. That’s what I’m really here to tell you. But if you’d prefer to discuss my sex life, God knows I don’t need to go to another one of these stupid meetings.”

And, as I stood there, basking in a supernova of mortification, the others gathered up their things and departed. It was obvious that George and I needed a moment alone.

He turned to me as soon as they were gone. “You want to tell me what I just walked in on?”

“We’re just stressed because of what happened.”

“If you ask me, this is entirely too much stress for Spring Break.”

“Well, no one asked you.”

“Why don’t you just tell them it was you and Jamie on the beach today?”

For a second, I choked. There it was, right out loud. No more innuendo from Mr. George Harrison Prescott. He’d recognized us, and he’d probably recognized what we were doing as well.

“Why don’t you tell them?” I chose the offensive. “For someone who hates keeping secrets, you’ve sure got a lot of them.”

“You still don’t get it, do you? I like you, Amy. We’re supposed to be friends. I don’t want to fight with you. I don’t want to cause you any pain. And you don’t want anyone to know how you spent the day, clearly. Understandably! So I’m not saying a word.” He shook his head. “It’s like you want me to be mean. You want that, go talk to your new boyfriend.”

Understandably? “He’s not my boyfriend, and he’s not mean.”

“He’s a jerk,” George said, incredulous. “Have you forgotten? Jeez, you do know how to pick ’em. You’d have been better off with me.” George took off down the stairs and broke into a jog to catch up to the others.

I dropped to my bunk, breathing as if George had punched me in the stomach. Everything was moving too fast. George was right. This was supposed to be my vacation, and here I was, fighting with my friends, fending off yet more attacks, and getting involved with a guy I’d made a point of avoiding for months. I should have just stayed at Eli and let Dragon’s Head finish me off.

The only time I’d felt remotely relaxed this whole trip had been in Poe’s arms this afternoon, and even George, who never had any compunction about hooking up, knew that was a mistake. Not that it mattered; it was over now. The whole thing had been ill-advised, on both of our parts. Whatever there was between Poe and myself, it was built on antagonism, not affection. Not even lust.

Well, okay, a little bit of lust.

But that was the point Clarissa had been trying to make. Like it or not, I was on the rebound. The last thing I should be doing is jumping into a relationship with a guy I’d never even liked . Was I trying to prove something? To Brandon? To myself?

I gathered what was left of my self-possession and walked back to the compound. The light had changed during the time I’d spent in the cabin, and the sun lay low in the sky. Twilight was coming soon. One full day down, five more to go. What a trip this was turning out to be.

Because of the heat in the tomb, all the members eschewed robes in favor of street clothes. Between the Hawaiian shirts, folding chairs, and sound of crickets beyond the flimsy doors, it was tough to approach the proceedings with the same air of sobriety and importance we maintained in New Haven.

And yet, we called the meeting to order. There weren’t enough chairs for all of us, so the seats mostly went to the more senior patriarchs. Beyond that, it was first come, first served.