feelings. And now, as Elizabeth was nibbling on Brandon’s ear, she clearly wasn’t thinking about Morgan. So why should he? Right?
Riiiight
.
Instant Message Inbox
TinsleyCarmichael: Hey sexy. Whatcha doin’?
JulianMcCafferty: Headed to squash practice. You?
TinsleyCarmichael: I’m being deviant and skipping tennis. Heading back to my empty room in Dumbarton now… . Hint, hint.
JulianMcCafferty: Do you still have my lighter?
TinsleyCarmichael: Uh, what?
JulianMcCafferty: Never mind.
TinsleyCarmichael: Just come over, okay? I’ll make you forget about your lighter. And hurry. I’ve been thinking about you all day… .
JulianMcCafferty: I’ll be there in thirty seconds.
17
A WAVERLY OWL KNOWS THAT THE BEST WAY TO GET OVER SOMEONE IS TO OBSESS OVER SOMEONE ELSE .
“So, um, Justin Timberlake or John Mayer?” Jenny asked a little shyly as she and Callie trundled home from field hockey practice in the early evening light, a cool breeze tousling their sweat-dampened ponytails and sending brightly colored leaves scuttling their way. Jenny’s legs were pleasantly exhausted from the exercise—Smail had run them hard today in preparation for their game this weekend against St. Lucius, whose field hockey team was Waverly’s league rival. After about ten minutes of warm-up drills, Jenny and most of the girls had shed their Adidas track pants and sweatshirts, despite its feeling about twenty degrees out. It felt good now, as Jenny’s heart rate was returning to normal and the chilly breeze cooled her still-hot skin. Brett had been a no-show at practice, and for some reason it didn’t feel at all awkward when Jenny and Callie headed back to the dorm together alone. She felt like they’d really been getting to know each other this past week, and not just because of the silly questions Jenny was asking her now. (Coke or Pepsi: “Diet Pepsi.” Cats or dogs? “Cats, but only black ones.” Kirsten Dunst or Scarlett Johannson: “Kirsten, but with Scarlett’s voice.”) “So?” Jenny prompted. “Justin Timberlake or John Mayer?” she repeated.
Callie, still wearing her grass-stained sweatpants, her sweatshirt tied loosely around her thin waist, twirled her Brine field hockey stick in one hand and snorted with laughter. “Are we talking music, or, like, who I’d rather make out with?” Jenny tilted her orange Nalgene bottle and let the last drops of water trickle into her mouth. “Make out with. Definitely,” she clarified.
“No contest.” Callie swatted at a pebble with her stick, sending it ricocheting through the grass. “Justin Timberlake looks like he’d know exactly how to kiss me. Mmm.” Two months ago, Jenny would have been mortified by the idea of walking across a campus full of boys—cute, well-dressed, smart boys—and perfect, preppy, pretty girls, in a grass-stained T-shirt and gym shorts. But now she couldn’t have cared less. It didn’t matter. This was the boarding school way of life—wholesome, healthy, natural, and sometimes sweat-filled. She loved it.
“Really?” Jenny’s stomach rumbled, reminding her that she was starving. “I’d definitely go for John Mayer. I guess I like …” She awkwardly trailed off, realizing she had just been about to say
that dark, sensitive, artsy type.
I.e., that Easy Walsh type. Not
like she couldn’t mention Easy, exactly—they’d talked about him plenty of times by now—but more like she didn’t want to ruin the mood by bringing him in. Jenny bent down to tie her shoelace, pretending that was the reason she’d forgotten to complete her sentence.
Callie nodded absently as she climbed the front steps of the dorm. “Hey, I’m going to go in, okay? I’ve got to jump in the shower before heading to the, uh, library.” “Sure.” Jenny responded equally absently, noticing someone moving behind one of the emerald green, carved topiaries that lined the wall of Dumbarton. It was
Julian
. Hanging out around the girls’ dorm again. Jenny
Riiiight
.
Instant Message Inbox
TinsleyCarmichael: Hey sexy. Whatcha doin’?
JulianMcCafferty: Headed to squash practice. You?
TinsleyCarmichael: I’m being deviant and skipping tennis. Heading back to my empty room in Dumbarton now… . Hint, hint.
JulianMcCafferty: Do you still have my lighter?
TinsleyCarmichael: Uh, what?
JulianMcCafferty: Never mind.
TinsleyCarmichael: Just come over, okay? I’ll make you forget about your lighter. And hurry. I’ve been thinking about you all day… .
JulianMcCafferty: I’ll be there in thirty seconds.
17
A WAVERLY OWL KNOWS THAT THE BEST WAY TO GET OVER SOMEONE IS TO OBSESS OVER SOMEONE ELSE .
“So, um, Justin Timberlake or John Mayer?” Jenny asked a little shyly as she and Callie trundled home from field hockey practice in the early evening light, a cool breeze tousling their sweat-dampened ponytails and sending brightly colored leaves scuttling their way. Jenny’s legs were pleasantly exhausted from the exercise—Smail had run them hard today in preparation for their game this weekend against St. Lucius, whose field hockey team was Waverly’s league rival. After about ten minutes of warm-up drills, Jenny and most of the girls had shed their Adidas track pants and sweatshirts, despite its feeling about twenty degrees out. It felt good now, as Jenny’s heart rate was returning to normal and the chilly breeze cooled her still-hot skin. Brett had been a no-show at practice, and for some reason it didn’t feel at all awkward when Jenny and Callie headed back to the dorm together alone. She felt like they’d really been getting to know each other this past week, and not just because of the silly questions Jenny was asking her now. (Coke or Pepsi: “Diet Pepsi.” Cats or dogs? “Cats, but only black ones.” Kirsten Dunst or Scarlett Johannson: “Kirsten, but with Scarlett’s voice.”) “So?” Jenny prompted. “Justin Timberlake or John Mayer?” she repeated.
Callie, still wearing her grass-stained sweatpants, her sweatshirt tied loosely around her thin waist, twirled her Brine field hockey stick in one hand and snorted with laughter. “Are we talking music, or, like, who I’d rather make out with?” Jenny tilted her orange Nalgene bottle and let the last drops of water trickle into her mouth. “Make out with. Definitely,” she clarified.
“No contest.” Callie swatted at a pebble with her stick, sending it ricocheting through the grass. “Justin Timberlake looks like he’d know exactly how to kiss me. Mmm.” Two months ago, Jenny would have been mortified by the idea of walking across a campus full of boys—cute, well-dressed, smart boys—and perfect, preppy, pretty girls, in a grass-stained T-shirt and gym shorts. But now she couldn’t have cared less. It didn’t matter. This was the boarding school way of life—wholesome, healthy, natural, and sometimes sweat-filled. She loved it.
“Really?” Jenny’s stomach rumbled, reminding her that she was starving. “I’d definitely go for John Mayer. I guess I like …” She awkwardly trailed off, realizing she had just been about to say
that dark, sensitive, artsy type.
I.e., that Easy Walsh type. Not
like she couldn’t mention Easy, exactly—they’d talked about him plenty of times by now—but more like she didn’t want to ruin the mood by bringing him in. Jenny bent down to tie her shoelace, pretending that was the reason she’d forgotten to complete her sentence.
Callie nodded absently as she climbed the front steps of the dorm. “Hey, I’m going to go in, okay? I’ve got to jump in the shower before heading to the, uh, library.” “Sure.” Jenny responded equally absently, noticing someone moving behind one of the emerald green, carved topiaries that lined the wall of Dumbarton. It was
Julian
. Hanging out around the girls’ dorm again. Jenny
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