bedroom doorway. “What are you doing here?”
Amie rolled her eyes. “She lives here?”
“So she does,” Veronica said with a sly smile, perching herself in the threshold. “M.K. tells us you met with Foley today.”
M.K. was a talker, apparently. “Yep,” I said. “I did.”
Veronica crossed her arms over her untucked oxford and tie as Mary Katherine and Amie moved to stand behind her, knights guarding the queen. “The thing is, Foley never talks to students.”
“Is that so?”
“That is very much so,” she said. “So we were all interested to hear that you’d been invited into the inner sanctum.”
“Did you learn anything interesting?” Mary Katherine asked with a snicker.
Out of some sarcastic instinct, I almost spilled, almost threw out a summary of how five minutes in Foley’s office had made me doubt nearly sixteen years of personal experience and had made me question my parents, my family, a lifetime of memories. But I kept it in. I wasn’t comfortable with these three having that kind of information about me or my fears. It was just the kind of weakness they’d exploit.
I was surprised, though, to learn that Mary Katherine hadn’t simply listened at Foley’s door.
That also seemed like the kind of situation she’d exploit.
“Not really,” I finally answered. “Foley was just checking in. Since I’m new, I mean,” I added at M.K.’s raised brows. “She wanted to see if I was adjusting okay.”
M.K.’s brows fell, her lips forming a pout. “Oh,” she said. “Whatever, then.” Her hunt for drama unsuccessful, she uncrossed her arms and headed toward Amie’s room. Amie followed,
but Veronica stayed behind.
“Well,” she said, “are you coming, or what? We haven’t got all day.”
It took me nearly a minute to figure out that she was talking to me.
“Am I coming?”
She rolled her eyes, then turned on her heel. “Come on,” she said, then beckoned me forward. I blinked, but ever curious, uncrossed my legs, hopped down off the bed, and followed. She walked to the open door of Amie’s room and stood there for a moment, apparently inviting me inside.
I had no cluewhy she was asking me inside, and I was just nosy enough to wonder what she was up to. That was an opportunity I couldn’t pass up.
“Sure,” I said, then joined Veronica at the threshold. When she bobbed her head toward the interior of the room, I ventured inside and got my first look . . . at the room that pink threw up on.
Honestly—it looked like a Barbie factory exploded. There was pink everywhere, from the walls to the carpet to the bedspread and pillowcases. I practically had to squint against the glare.
On the other hand, thestuff in the room was choice: flat-screen TV; top- of-the-line laptop; fancy speaker system with an iPod port; thick, quilted duvet. I mean, sure it was all covered in kill-me-
now pink, but I could appreciate quality.
“Nice room,” I half lied, as Veronica shut the door behind me. Mary Katherine was already on Amie’s bed, one leg crossed over the other and the glossy shoe box on her lap. Amie was in a sleek, clear plastic chair in front of a desk made of the same clear plastic. “Why, exactly, is she here?” Mary Katherine asked.
Veronica gave me an appraising look. “We’re going to see how cool she is.”
When Mary Katherine stroked the sides of the shoe box, I assumed my field trip into the Kingdom of Pink and the coolness test were related to whatever was in the shoe box in Mary Katherine’s lap . . . or my reaction to it.
“How do we know she’s not a Little Mary Tattletale?” Mary Katherine asked.
“Oh, come on, M.K. Lily’s from New York. She’s hip.” Veronica arched a challenging eyebrow. “Aren’t you?”
I was from Sagamore,not New York, but I was too busy contemplating the first-degree peer pressure to bother correcting her. But since the surprise invitation was a mystery that would be solved when M.K. flipped the lid off the shoe box, I figured I’d go for it. I wasn’t getting a whole lot of closure on mysteries these days.
“I’m wicked hip,” I agreed, my voice wicked dry.
“Are you ready?” Veronica asked, as Mary Katherine slipped her fingers beneath the lip of the shoe box.
“Sure,” I said.
I’m not sure what I expected for all the buildup. Mind-altering substances? Diamonds? Stolen electronics? Weapons-grade plutonium? Or, if they’d been teenage boys, fireworks and nudie magazines?
It wasn’t quite that dramatic.
With her girls—and me—around her, Mary Katherine lifted the lid. It was filled with candy, diet soda, back issues ofCosmo , energy drinks and clove cigarettes. It was like a supermodel’s necessities kit.
“Well?” M.K. prompted. “Pretty sweet, huh?”
I opened my mouth, then closed it again with a snap. Surely they weren’t so sheltered that issues ofCosmo —which were probably available at every drugstore, bodega, and grocery store in the United States—were contraband. Still, I was a guest in enemy territory. Now was not the time for insults. “There’s definitely . . . all sorts of stuff in there.”
Veronica reached in and grabbed a box of candy cigarettes, then pulled out a stick of white candy. “We have friends who bring it in,” she said, nipping a bit off the end.
“And Mary Katherine’s parents practically make shipments,” Amie added, disapproval ringing in her voice.
M.K. rolled her eyes. “Weneed it,” she said. “St. Sophia’s is all about health and vigor, organic and free- range and vitamin-enhanced. Weaknesses like these don’t figure into that. And if Foley ever found this stuff in our room, we’d be toast.” She gave me an appraising glance. “So—can you keep your mouth shut?”
My gaze on a small bag of black licorice—my greatest weakness—I nodded. “That shouldn’t be a problem.”
Mary Katherine snorted and, seeing the direction of my gaze, reached over, grabbed the packet of licorice Scotties, and tossed it to me. I pulled it open—not even pausing to question why she was offering me candy—and began to nibble the head off a tiny, chewy dog.
Veronica looked at her BFFs, then slid a glance my way, her eyes bright with promise. “You know, Parker, we don’t keep all of Mary Katherine’s stash up here, just in case Foley decides to start doing room checks again. The rest of it is in our little hidey-hole. We call it our treasure chest. We were going there, you know, to replenish our stack.” She glanced back at Mary Katherine. “M.K.’s almost out of Tab.”
When Veronica looked at me again, her gaze was cool . . . and calculating. “You can go with us if you want. Share in the bounty.”
I’d have been stupid not to be suspicious. The stash these trendy big-city girls played at being so excited about wasn’t really that exciting. More important, they were being unusually nice. While I guessed it was possible they were still making some kind of misguided attempt to steer me toward “better” pals, it seemed more likely that something more nefarious was on their agenda.
But they weren’t the only ones with secret plans. Foley had nearly ripped the rug out from under me earlier
