When we came out of our rooms, donning our new dresses, Sophie slow clapped. “Alrighty then. I may have overdone it. The stuff I brought for me to wear looks provincial in comparison.”
I snorted. “Yeah, right. You’ve never looked provincial a day in your life.”
“So not to sound ungrateful,” Zoey jumped in, “but what are we going to do with these? I’m sure you get plenty of opportunities to wear this kind of stuff in Paris, but we’re kind of a casual bunch here in LA.”
“We’re going out this weekend.”
“Soph, I have the MCAT coming up,” Zoey drew out. “I need to study. Ivy knows, I’ve been a hermit for the past few weeks.”
I sat down to watch this clash of titans on the sofa. Sophie was a woman of many talents, but there was no way she was going to convince Zoey to go out. If my roommate was anything, she was focused. Not a chance she’d sacrifice her precious weekend of studying.
“Hon, I’ve got an interview, remember? But this might be the only weekend we have together until the Christmas holidays, and even then, I’m not sure I’ll come home. Francois invited me to his family’s vineyard in Bourgogne, and Marcus has been talking about ringing in the new year on his family’s yacht. Let’s just say, River Valley is looking hella lame in comparison.”
“But you might be back here in January,” Zoey argued. “We’ll have plenty of time then.”
“Might.That’s the key word in there. What if I don’t get it? Won’t you regret sitting at home studying while Ivy and I are having the time of our lives? Come on!”
A frown formed on Zoey’s face and I snorted to myself. While Zoey was undoubtedly the queen of the guilt trip, Sophie may as well have invented the tactic.
“One night,” Sophie insisted, her eyes widening in a pleading look. “Just one. You don’t even need to drink. I just want the company of my two favorite bitches. How long has it been? How. Long. We’re not getting any younger. When you get into med school, and you’re busy learning and saving lives, you’re going to have even less time for us. This is practically our last chance to make some memories, okay?”
Zoey groaned, dropping her face into her palms. Sophie shot me a victorious look before shifting her expression back to something that resembled a sad puppy. “So, Zozo? What do you think?”
Oh Lord. The nickname she’d given Zoey when we were all in elementary school? That was a low blow.
Zoey lifted her face, peeking over the tips of her fingers at us. “Fine,” she said, drawing out the I. “I’m pretty sure I’m going to regret this, but you’ve got one night. Make it count.”
Sophie dropped to the sofa, laying her head on my thighs. Her perfectly conditioned blond locks splayed out over my knees. “You got it. While you study, Ivy and I will figure out our plan. Right, Ives?”
I spent the next little while updating Sophie on my life.
“Why don’t we ask your neighbor to get us in again?” Sophie asked when I finished telling her about my latest clubbing experience. Her disappointment regarding our decidedly tame existence in one of the most exciting cities on earth was palpable. “And really, how did I not know that both of you are such homebodies? How the hell did this happen?”
“We’re not homebodies. We’re just not into the whole party scene. Whenever we chat over FaceTime, you have enough crazy stories for the three of us combined, and anyway, you saw how focused Zoey is on the MCAT.”
“Okay, and what’s your excuse?”
“You know me.” I sighed. “I’ve always been introverted.”
Sophie scrunched her nose, skeptical. “Excuses, excuses. I mean, c’mon, you were fine going on that tour, which by the way, is still crazier than anything I have ever experienced.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but she didn’t let me.
“Back to the topic at hand. Your neighbor?”
“No.” I shook my head. “Did you somehow miss the part where she gave me drugs and ditched? I don’t trust her. Honestly, I think she might be a dealer.”
Sophie stood up and walked to the kitchen, pulling out a glass from one of the cabinets. “She might be our best bet,” she said as she filled it with water. “If we were in Paris, we’d already be on three different guest lists. You really need to come visit.”
The word “guest list” jigged a memory. That morning at Jamie’s… He’d offered to do exactly what Sophie wanted. He’d said he could get us on a list.
A grin teased at my lips as I grabbed my phone and found his contact. This was the perfect excuse to get in touch with him again.
Sophie raised a brow at my expression. “What?”
“I know how to get us in somewhere.”
15
