The Reinvention of Moxie Roosevelt by Elizabeth Cody Kimmel Page B
Authors: Elizabeth Cody Kimmel
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catch my breath, then opened the door to our room and hurried inside.
I caught a brief glimpse of something brass colored wrapped in gauze on the ground as my foot connected with it. I stumbled and pitched forward, landing flat on my face.
Two sets of feet quickly came into view. One wore combat boots.
The other wore suspiciously non-heiress-issue, plain white, brand-spanking-new sneakers.
Chapter Twelve
“Moxie, are you concussed?” Spinky said. “I’ve always wanted to ask someone that,” she added.
I looked up to see Kate standing slightly behind Spinky, her arms folded. When our eyes met, she narrowed hers into little slits. Yeah, she hated me. And I was beginning to understand why.
The conversations about how I hated rich people too. The paparazzi comment. The Hummer remark. And at the bookstore—I had told Kate I knew her secret. Did she think I’d been goading her all this time? That I knew her secret and this was my way of telling her? She was probably afraid I would blab. And why wouldn’t she be afraid? Her world was full of ex-friends and disgruntled family employees spilling Southington secrets to the National Enquirer . What was I supposed to do? Mouth “Your secret is safe with me”?
“Let me help you up, roomie,” Spinky said, extending her hand. I let her pull me up, avoiding eye contact with Kate. “I’m sorry I left the incense thing in the middle of the floor. I’ve been trying to figure out some kind of sling for it. Except that Kate has pointed out that using gauze will make it a fire hazard.”
Kate nodded at Spinky.
“Well, I’m sure you’re from a very safety-oriented family,” I said. “With all those police and stuff.”
I was trying to let her know I was going with her cover story. But my words had the opposite effect. Kate pressed her lips tightly together and her face went white with fury. If Spinky hadn’t been standing between us, I feel certain Kate would have ripped my heart right out of my chest.
“Aren’t we supposed to stay on our own halls during study period unless we get special permission?” I asked. It sounded rude, but it was the only thing I could think of to get Kate away from me for a while so I could figure out what to do. Because if I told her flat out that I wasn’t trying to blow her secret in front of Spinky, all I’d end up doing was, in fact, blowing her secret in front of the only girl at Eaton she seemed to really like.
I decided to give the “I’m sticking with your cover story” thing one more try.
“I get it, though, it’s probably really irritating having to hang out in your room. Kate’s roommate is this awful trust fund kid,” I told Spinky.
“I have a trust fund,” Spinky said.
Kate and I both looked at her. I laughed, because I assumed she was joking.
“It’s not that big of a deal. It’s not billions of dollars or anything. It’s from my grandmother. I’m broke at the moment. I don’t come into the coin until I’m twenty-one. I think I’ll get a Harley.”
My face was bright red. I racked my brain trying to remember rude things I’d said about rich people. Had I said any at all, or had I only said those things to Kate? And why had Spinky never mentioned this before? How could Spinky be a DUCKI and a Trust Fund Kid at the same time? The two did not go together. Then again, I’d caught Guadalupe watching General Hospital in the TV lounge earlier in the week. How a Hale and Hearty Sports Enthusiast could also be a self-proclaimed soap opera junkie was beyond me.
Spinky shrugged, as if she could read my mind, then bent and picked up the incense burner and began to unravel the gauze sling.
“My grandmother’s hilarious. She’s eighty-eight and still comes to reunions—she and her mom and my mom all went here.”
“Four generations of Spangers?” I asked. She had said something about it, about half the women in her family attending Eaton, but I’d sort of forgotten about it.
“Dempseys and
I caught a brief glimpse of something brass colored wrapped in gauze on the ground as my foot connected with it. I stumbled and pitched forward, landing flat on my face.
Two sets of feet quickly came into view. One wore combat boots.
The other wore suspiciously non-heiress-issue, plain white, brand-spanking-new sneakers.
Chapter Twelve
“Moxie, are you concussed?” Spinky said. “I’ve always wanted to ask someone that,” she added.
I looked up to see Kate standing slightly behind Spinky, her arms folded. When our eyes met, she narrowed hers into little slits. Yeah, she hated me. And I was beginning to understand why.
The conversations about how I hated rich people too. The paparazzi comment. The Hummer remark. And at the bookstore—I had told Kate I knew her secret. Did she think I’d been goading her all this time? That I knew her secret and this was my way of telling her? She was probably afraid I would blab. And why wouldn’t she be afraid? Her world was full of ex-friends and disgruntled family employees spilling Southington secrets to the National Enquirer . What was I supposed to do? Mouth “Your secret is safe with me”?
“Let me help you up, roomie,” Spinky said, extending her hand. I let her pull me up, avoiding eye contact with Kate. “I’m sorry I left the incense thing in the middle of the floor. I’ve been trying to figure out some kind of sling for it. Except that Kate has pointed out that using gauze will make it a fire hazard.”
Kate nodded at Spinky.
“Well, I’m sure you’re from a very safety-oriented family,” I said. “With all those police and stuff.”
I was trying to let her know I was going with her cover story. But my words had the opposite effect. Kate pressed her lips tightly together and her face went white with fury. If Spinky hadn’t been standing between us, I feel certain Kate would have ripped my heart right out of my chest.
“Aren’t we supposed to stay on our own halls during study period unless we get special permission?” I asked. It sounded rude, but it was the only thing I could think of to get Kate away from me for a while so I could figure out what to do. Because if I told her flat out that I wasn’t trying to blow her secret in front of Spinky, all I’d end up doing was, in fact, blowing her secret in front of the only girl at Eaton she seemed to really like.
I decided to give the “I’m sticking with your cover story” thing one more try.
“I get it, though, it’s probably really irritating having to hang out in your room. Kate’s roommate is this awful trust fund kid,” I told Spinky.
“I have a trust fund,” Spinky said.
Kate and I both looked at her. I laughed, because I assumed she was joking.
“It’s not that big of a deal. It’s not billions of dollars or anything. It’s from my grandmother. I’m broke at the moment. I don’t come into the coin until I’m twenty-one. I think I’ll get a Harley.”
My face was bright red. I racked my brain trying to remember rude things I’d said about rich people. Had I said any at all, or had I only said those things to Kate? And why had Spinky never mentioned this before? How could Spinky be a DUCKI and a Trust Fund Kid at the same time? The two did not go together. Then again, I’d caught Guadalupe watching General Hospital in the TV lounge earlier in the week. How a Hale and Hearty Sports Enthusiast could also be a self-proclaimed soap opera junkie was beyond me.
Spinky shrugged, as if she could read my mind, then bent and picked up the incense burner and began to unravel the gauze sling.
“My grandmother’s hilarious. She’s eighty-eight and still comes to reunions—she and her mom and my mom all went here.”
“Four generations of Spangers?” I asked. She had said something about it, about half the women in her family attending Eaton, but I’d sort of forgotten about it.
“Dempseys and
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