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"Oh my G.o.d!" someone yelped.
Hazel shrieked as her drink cup was crushed against her chest. Freezing Diet c.o.ke and ice cascaded down her shirt. Hazel looked up angrily to see who had run into her.
Her mouth dropped open as she realized-it was Sylvia Orly.
"Oh no! Oh, Hazel, I am so sorry!" Sylvia said, one hand across her mouth. "I wasn't watching where I was going. This is totally my fault." Sylvia seized the drink cup from Hazel's hand and began yanking wads of napkins out of the nearest dispenser.
"Oh, you're soaked. Here." She handed more napkins to Hazel. "I'd help you clean up, but I don't want to, like, paw you. Oh G.o.d, this will stain. You have to tell me how much this cost. I'll pay for a new one."
"That's okay, Sylvia," Hazel said, laughing despite the rush of attention and the ice-cold layers of clothing clinging to her chest.
"Don't be silly. I insist," Sylvia said.
"It's old," Hazel fibbed. "Really. It's no biggie."
Sylvia pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. "You are so lying, Hazel. I saw it in Neiman's last week. You're sweet, but you have to let me make this up to you." She considered for a moment. "We're having a little soiree tonight at Charlie Pollins'. Officially, it's a babysitting job." She wrinkled her nose as if to say, But we both know better. "Maybe you could come by."
Hazel's lips parted. Was this actually happening? Was Sylvia Orly actually inviting her to one of the PLDs' infamous parties? For a second, she couldn't breathe. But she quickly recovered. "Sure," she rasped. "What time?"
"Eight. Charlie's dad is going to be gone till midnight. The fun doesn't really start until nine-thirty. We close down around eleven-thirty."
"Cool," Hazel said, trying not to sound too eager. "Thanks."
"Which in French is merci," Sylvia replied, grinning. She was fluent in French. Word was she taught all the PLDs to speak the language too.
"Do you know the Pollinses' address?" Sylvia asked.
"Um, no."
Sylvia whipped out her cell phone, glanced down, and chuckled at the screen. "Oops. Just a minute." With rapid-fire fingers, she texted something. Then she glanced at Hazel and said, "What's your cell number? I'll put you in."
Oh, great, Hazel thought. Already I have to betray my total lameness.
"I don't actually have a cell phone," she admitted. "At the moment."
"You are so lucky," Sylvia replied without missing a beat. "They're a total pain. With a cell, you never get a moment's peace. I curse the man who invented them." She smiled charitably. "Well, let's go to my table. I'll write it down for you."
In a daze, Hazel followed Sylvia through the cafeteria. She knew people were watching, could see heads pressing together, people taking stock of this turn of events. Her cheeks were hot. Hazel prayed they weren't bright red.
Matty was watching too. His head was c.o.c.ked just so, and his lazy smile broadened the slightest bit when their gazes met.
"Good taste," Sylvia whispered, noticing the mini-exchange. "Hey, look whose lovely new clothes I ma.s.sacred."
They had reached the PLDs' table. Hazel looked down at Megan, Carolyn, and Ellen. She nodded at them.
Ellen fluffed her hair and said, "Hey, Hazel."
"Hey," Hazel managed.
"So listen, to make up for my horrible faux pas, I'm inviting Hazel to the flash mob tonight." Sylvia flipped open a purple notebook and held out her hand. "Who's got a pen?"
Ellen opened her bag and instantly produced a gel writer in coordinating purple.
Megan and Carolyn smiled at Hazel as Sylvia wrote out a street address and phone number in beautiful, unusual handwriting. She ripped out the piece of paper and handed it to Hazel with a flourish. She had a French manicure, and Hazel noticed three identical Claddagh rings on the middle three fingers of her left hand, each with a different-colored heart.
"No selling this on eBay, right?" Sylvia winked, then pulled out her chair and sat down. "See you tonight."
Hazel knew she was being dismissed. She smiled pleasantly and said, "Okay."
The other three PLDs waved, bright smiles on their faces. Hazel saw that all of them were wearing Claddagh rings. It must be a PLD thing.
Then Sylvia gave Hazel a sly smile and said, "Oh, and be sure to dress to impress. There may be another addition to the guest list." She nodded in Matty's direction.
Hazel's heart pounded. As she made her way back to her own table, she tried to send an ESP message to Lakshmi and the others to stop looking so freaked out.
"What was that about? What did she give you?" Lakshmi demanded as Hazel grabbed up her backpack. Lakshmi reached for the piece of notebook paper, but Hazel held on to it.
"Just her number," Hazel said, her voice catching a little. She fished her purse out and popped the paper into it. Lakshmi hungrily followed it with her eyes.
"She wants you to call her?"
"Uh, yeah." Hazel shrugged. "She wants to see about replacing my shirt."
She glanced over her shoulder toward Sylvia's table.
Sylvia was talking to Matty-and handing him a piece of notebook paper too.
Hazel quickly glanced away and sat down, nearly throwing herself into her chair.
"Don't you want to go to the bathroom to clean up?" Lakshmi asked. "You're soaking wet."
"I'm fine." To prove it, Hazel picked up a fry and dipped it in her ketchup. "Where did Breona go?"
"Oh!" Lakshmi leaned forward. "Clancy came and got her. Something's up. Definitely." The other three nodded excitedly.
"Definitely," LaToya echoed.
PERSONALBLOG.
HAPPY2BME.
BREONA SUX. SHE DESERVES WORSE FOR ALL THE c.r.a.p SHE PULLS. WHAT SHE GOT THIS AFTERNOON-AND WHAT SHE'S GOING TO GET! THIS IS JUST PHASE ONE. ALL THE PRETTY GIRLS WHO THINK THEY'RE BETTER THAN ME? THEY DON'T KNOW WHAT THEY'RE IN FOR!
CHAPTER TWO.
At eight-fifteen Hazel parked her Corolla across the street from the Pollins residence. It was a sad little ranch-style house made of mud-brown stucco.
Hazel sat behind the wheel, building up her nerve. A parade of the cool and unapproachable from Brookhaven sauntered through the arched doorway.
To get out of the house, Hazel had told her parents she was "studying." She didn't give out any details-and wasn't asked. Her mom didn't realize that she had gone a little boho, changing into her new gold pointy flats, an ankle-length green cotton skirt, and a black cami, or that she had put on more makeup than usual. Typical. Her mom was too into her own stuff to notice.
Hazel watched as Brandon walked across the street with Josh. They were dressed in the same outfits they'd had on at school. Thanks to the Diet c.o.ke incident, Hazel had a good excuse for changing.
Her palms were wet and her cheeks were hot. She flicked on the dome light to check her makeup in the rearview mirror.
She gasped when she noticed a figure staring back at her.
"Hey, girlfriend!" Hazel laughed when she realized it was Trina Esposito waving through the rear window. They had gym together. Hazel unlocked her door and climbed out.
"What's up?" Trina asked warmly, coming over to the driver's side. She was dressed up too, in a leather jacket, silver heels, and black cropped pants. "Sorry if I scared you."
"No problem," Hazel answered. "I'm a total wimp. Sometimes I can't believe I get spooked so easily."
"I haven't seen you at one of these before," Trina observed. "Didn't think this was your style."
"Well, yeah," Hazel said. "Sylvia invited me."
"Cool," Trina replied. "So, Breona. What an idiot, don't you think?"
Hazel frowned. She wasn't following. Trina raised a brow. "You do know she got expelled today, right? For drug possession?"
Hazel couldn't contain her shock. "What?"
"It went down at lunch. Didn't you see?"
Hazel tried to remember what she had seen-Jenna talking to Matty, Sylvia talking to her, then Breona gone. "No, actually," she said.
"Got escorted out of the caf by Clancy," Trina said. "Right after the bagpiper thing. Not that many people knew what was happening, so I guess that's why it's not all over the school."
"Oh my G.o.d," Hazel murmured. "She's a senior. What's she going to do?"
"Don't know," Trina replied. "Sucks for her."
"Seriously." What was Breona thinking? Hazel wondered. She knows Brookhaven has a zero-tolerance policy. Why would she risk bringing drugs into school?
Trina and Hazel crossed the street together. Like the other arrivals, Trina opened the door without ringing or knocking. She smiled and waved at the crowd in the living room. For a moment, the faces were a blur. Then Hazel got her bearings. There were probably a dozen kids in the room; for that many, the noise level was low.
Sylvia was sitting on Josh's lap on one of the sofas. She wore a baby tee with the words MANGEZ-MOI written in sequins across the front and a pair of low-slung jeans. Her hair was piled on top of her head in a loose, s.e.xy updo and she was drinking something amber-colored out of a square gla.s.s.
Beside her and Josh, a couple was making out like crazy. Hazel had no idea who they were.
"Hey, Sylvia," Trina called.
Sylvia turned and waved at both of them. "Treeeeena, bon soir. Haze, h.e.l.lo! Mes amies, Hazel is here!"
As if on cue, Ellen, Carolyn, and Megan converged on her with friendly smiles. "Hazel," Ellen said brightly, giving her a quick hug. "Welcome to my humble babysitting job."
"As if," Hazel replied, totally loving the warm reception. "Thanks."
Sylvia rose off Josh's lap. "Follow me. Let's get you something to drink."
Trina, Hazel, and the PLDs sailed through the room, Trina greeting other guests with hugs before everyone hung a left.
Their destination was obviously the kitchen. It was packed with kids sipping from paper cups. The only sign that this was a babysitting job and not some spring break party house was the refrigerator loaded with kid art. Among the crayon drawings Hazel noticed a photograph of a mother, a father, and a little boy holding a Siamese cat. He had a cute buzz cut and large, thick gla.s.ses.
"That's Charlie, the kid I'm sitting," Ellen said, pointing to the picture. "His mom died six months ago. Cancer."
"Oh my G.o.d," Hazel said. The woman looked far too young to have died of anything.
"Yeah. It sucks." Megan sighed. "So, what do you want to drink? People bring stuff, and Charlie's dad contributes to the cause without realizing it."
Ellen giggled. "Some of the parents we sit for have so much booze lying around they don't miss it if we take something here and there."
Hazel gazed at the counter. It was a glittering row of liquor bottles. The stars of the school were pressed hip to hip, pouring drinks and carrying on. A heady mixture of perfume, cigarette smoke, and alcohol hung in the air.
I'm here, Hazel thought. These parties are for real and I'm here-as a guest of the PLDs.
"We have a rule that everyone must drink in the kitchen," Sylvia explained. "It makes it easier to clean up. Spills, you know."
I guess the rules just don't apply to Sylvia, Hazel thought, glancing at the gla.s.s Sylvia had carried with her from the living room.
"Go ahead," Megan urged. "Pick your poison."
Hazel scanned the liquor bottles. She didn't do much drinking, but there were a few things she knew she liked. She reached for the bottle of Amaretto and got herself a paper cup from a stack beside the stove.
"You'll have to drink a lot of that to get a buzz on," Megan said. "This does the job quicker." She picked up a fifth of Jim Beam.
Hazel poured Amaretto into her cup. "That's okay-I need to pace myself."
"A girl who knows her limit," Sylvia noted. "I like that."
"Hey, who's the new chick?" a low voice asked. Hazel felt a hand slide over her b.u.t.t. She jerked. The Amaretto splashed around her cup.