We didn’t know each other before we became roommates, but we’d knownabouteach other our whole lives. Our fathers had been deeply entwined with each other when Jane and I were born. And perhaps were again, if my father’s instructions on keeping an eye on Jane were any indication.
For the first week, we’d warily circled each other, knowing we’d been placed together by our fathers, neither of us knowing exactly why.
The second weekend here, we’d gone to a party, gotten a little drunk, and done True Confessions back in our room, where we both agreed to disregard any directives coming from our fathers about each other, and just relax. Be friends. Real friends.
Which was an easy promise for Jane to make—she’d been ignoring her father’s directives for years. Had taken great pleasure in it lately, in fact.
Not quite so easy for me, though.
“Poor Lily,” Jane said, teasing in her voice. “A campus full of respectable, father-approved guys, and you fall for a ne’er-do-well townie.”
“I’m not ‘falling for’ anybody,” I said quickly.
Jane glanced my way and made a half-snort sound, then turned back to stare up at the ceiling.
“And we don’t know that he’s a ne’er do well,” I added. I wasn’t even sure what a ne’er do well was—Jane was always throwing out terms like that—but I figured it wasn’t good.
“Right. ’Cause all guys at his age, with the world open to them, become janitors.” She had a point. “I wonder if it’s some kind of community service or something. Was he wearing an orange jumpsuit?” Jane said, laughing now at her own wit, slight as it was.
I didn’t bother telling her that he wore jeans and a black polo…and wore themwell. Instead, I threw my pillow at her and said, “Oh, shut up, already.” Which made her laugh all the more.
“What’s going on?” Sydney, our suitemate, said as she walked through the door adjoining our rooms. She had a sweatshirt on, and smelled like she’d just come from the outdoors.
Sydney O’Brien would not have felt afraid walking across campus at night. Syd would kick anybody’s ass at Bribury, faculty included.
“Our poor Lily has it bad for a townie,” Jane said. I wished I had the pillow back, so I could throw it at her again. Harder this time.
A look of distaste crossed Sydney’s face. Which was rich, since she was a townie herself, just a different town.
Sydney came from a rough section of Queens and was at Bribury on a scholarship. She and Jane bristled each other frequently, but there was also a grudging respect for each other.
I, of course, was the peacekeeper between them when needed.
“Seriously?” Sydney said, looking at me. She moved to my desk and sat down. “Please tell me Jane is full of shit.” She turned to Jane and added, “As usual.”
“Haha,” Jane deadpanned. “Not this time. Beautiful Lily, who could have any guy she wants, is going to slum it with a hoodlum.”
“I don’t know which part of that sentence to take issue with first,” I said. I looked at Sydney. “Basically, it’s all bullshit.”
Sydney studied me, and I didn’t like it.
Jane and I had grown up in spotlights, and Jane in particular had become world-savvy early on. But Sydney had us both beat when it came to life.
Sydney hadlived. Though she was careful not to tell us much about it. It was as if she was reinventing herself at Bribury, cutting all ties to her previous life.
Part of me wished I could do that too, and so I admired Sydney. But I also worried about her.
There was a…desperateness…about how badly she wanted to fit in. I’d watched her studying how Jane and I dressed and acted. It wasn’tSingle White Female. She didn’t want tobeus. But she didn’t want to be herself, either.
“Allbullshit, Lil? Really? Beautiful? Check. Can get any guy you want? Check.” I opened my mouth to object, but Syd raised a hand to stop me. “Get over yourself. Just because you don’t seem to want any of the guys we’ve met so far, doesn’t mean you couldn’t have any one of them if you so much as crooked a finger.”
“That’s not true,” I said, but they both ignored me.
“So, that leaves ‘ready to slum it with a hoodlum.’ What do you say, Lil? Is it a check?” There was teasing in Syd’s voice. I looked at her, ready to throw back some trash, but couldn’t. I looked at Jane, who was also smiling, but her grin faded when she saw my face.
“Oh, shit,” Syd said, her teasing voice now gone. “It is a check. Isn’t it? You’re ready to hop in bed…with atownie?” The distaste in her voice was obvious.
That was the thing about Sydney—she was a poor scholarship student, but in many ways was a bigger snob than Jane or I ever were.
