Bridgeport Academy #2 Read online

  Subject: Re: Stables

  Did you get my last email? See you at 5!

  Kisses and maybe more…

  Xxx,

  Crys

  8

  Zane stretched out on his bed and listened to the sounds of guys returning from sports practice, their adrenaline-pumped voices echoing through the dorm as they headed for the showers to get cleaned up for dinner. Donovan, his roommate, was out having dinner at The Petit Coq with his parents, probably getting drunk with them on the red table wine. Zane turned the volume up on his iPod and let the sound of J.Cole fill his ears. He was excused from mandatory team sports because of Credo, and he would have been out riding her this afternoon if he hadn’t been avoiding Crystal. He didn’t know what it was that had changed between them exactly, but a year ago he hadn’t been able to keep his hands off her. He would have jumped at the chance to spend some quality time before dinner snuggling in the privacy of the stables; now he couldn’t even face answering her emails or messages. What the fuck was his problem? Why was he being such a shithead?

  Because he’d met Bree. Zane smiled to himself at the thought of her. It was inevitable that he’d tell Crystal, but couldn’t he put it off just a little longer?

  The sound of high heels dinging up the dorm’s marble stairs could be heard over the sound of J.Cole rapping. “Damn,” Zane murmured under his breath. It was time. He shut off the music.

  The door flew open and there stood Crystal, in all her fury, looking beautiful and slightly deranged, like a debutante scorned. “What are you doing here? Did you not get my messages?” Her left eyelid twitched a little, like it always did when Zane pissed her off enough. He tried not to smile. He still loved her. Always would. Especially when she was mad. “I skipped out of field hockey early so I could meet up with you, and you don’t even bother to show?” Crystal’s hair was pulled back in a clip, and she had clearly taken time to clean up for him after practice. She looked a little too neat and polished in her short gray wool skirt, black tights, and black leather kitten-heel riding boots. As far as Zane knew, she had given up riding when she was seven, even though he had tried, many times, to get her on Credo. The smell of her shampoo reminded Zane of the salons where his mother and all her girlfriends spent entire afternoons getting their hair and faces molded into something completely unrecognizable.

  “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry,” he said lamely. He sat up, noticing how out of place Crystal looked in his disaster of a room. Crumpled boxers and jeans covered the floor and a banana peel lay on top of his dresser, level with Crystal’s face.

  She saw it but ignored it. “That’s all you can say? You’re sorry?” Crystal pulled the clip out of her hair and shook her head so that her jet-black locks fell in thick waves around her shoulders, something that usually drove Zane wild. She gazed at his familiar brown eyes, trying to figure out what was different about them. Maybe the way he was looking back at her?

  “Wait. You’re sorry about blowing me off or…” Crystal’s heart started to pound so hard it felt like it would break free of her chest. Running from the stables to his dorm, she’d been furious, ready to punch Zane in his beautiful face but also ready to accept his explanations or excuses, provided they came sweetly enough, and with plenty of kisses to smooth it over. Now it sounded like smoothing it over was the last thing on his mind.

  “I can’t do this anymore, Crystal,” he murmured softly at the wall.

  “You can’t do what? Be with me?” She choked back a sob. She was not going to cry. This was not over. “What are you talking about?” If she could just find the right thing to say, she knew she could make it better. In a few minutes they’d kiss and make up.

  “You know things haven’t been right with us,” he faltered. Fuck, what had he gotten himself into?

  “That’s not true. We’re great together.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder and kept her voice light. “It’s just—it’s the beginning of the year. Things are stressful. It’ll get better, I promise.”

  Zane shook his head slowly. Crystal could tell he was trying not to look at her. “It’s just not working,” he said in a low voice, playing with the buttons on his iPod. “Don’t pretend like you haven’t noticed. If everything was great, you wouldn’t have been making out with Maurice fucking Johnson on Saturday.”

  “We were not making out,” Crystal protested, her mind whirring, already trying to decide on what tactic to take here. How much had he really seen? Maybe she should just play dumb. But part of her swelled with anger—yes, she’d been drunk and playing spin the bottle, but the reason she was drunk in the first place was because she was upset about Zane, so he should really be more understanding. “It was just a game.”

  Zane stared at her. “That’s no excuse.” He ran a single, paint-splattered hand through his messy curls.

  “Zane, look, I know things have been rough, since, well, since Spain and everything.” She thought back to the night in Spain when she’d told him she loved him and he had practically asked what they were having for dinner. “But we can fix it.” Crystal sat down next to him on the bed, put her hand on his knee, and tried to look as persuasive as possible. She stuck out her lower lip in the way that always made her stern father cave and give her whatever she wanted.

  Zane sighed heavily, like he was about to say something he knew Crystal wouldn’t want to hear. So don’t say it, Crystal thought. “That’s the thing,” he began. “I don’t want to fix it.” He stared at her hand on his knee as if wishing it would go away. Then he looked straight at her, his eyes cold and serious.

  She moved her hand and jumped abruptly to her feet. “This is about Bree, isn’t it?” she practically shouted.

  “Not really,” he replied slowly. “It’s about us.”

  Not really? Not really? As in, kind of? “I cannot believe you are breaking up with me to go out with that little…that little…pimple!” Crystal shrieked. “How dare you!”

  “It’s not like that, Crystal.” Zane kept his voice level and slow in response to her increasing hysteria. He knew this was going to get messy. Crystal had a tendency to melt down like a five-year-old when she didn’t want to face something.

  Crystal narrowed her hazel eyes at him. “So, are you, like, into her now?”

  “Stop it.” Zane pressed his fists to his temples. This wasn’t part of his breaking-up-with-Crystal conversation. Whatever his feelings were for Bree, they didn’t have anything to do with Crystal. “This isn’t about anyone but you and me.”

  Crystal nodded violently. “Oh, sure. Of course not. Like eager little Bree throwing herself all over you had nothing to do with it.” She clenched her fists. “That bitch!”

  Zane stood up. Talk about being a bitch. “How can you start flinging names at people like that? Do you even remember how you and I got together, or did you block that out?”

  Zane saw from the way her face froze that it wasn’t a good move to remind Crystal how she’d dropped Amir like a dead-weight to go out with him. He’d always been ashamed of the shady way they’d gotten together behind Amir’s back and in front of the rest of the Bridgeport population. At the time, he and Crystal just had so much natural chemistry that it all seemed okay and even sort of romantic. But now, it was just another thing that bothered him about their relationship.

  “You were certainly trying hard enough to get your hands up my skirt that night!” Crystal screamed.

  Zane tried to lower his voice, noticing, for the first time, that the door was still open. “I know.” He shrugged, wishing he could just hug Crystal and make it all okay. “I’m sorry I brought it up. We were both wrong. Let’s just leave everyone else out of it, okay?” Fuck, this was why he hated confrontation. Everything became a jumble in his head and he ended up spitting out the things that were least important and forgetting about the things that counted. “I just don’t think we work together anymore. We’ve changed. That’s all.”

  Crystal’s whole body was
shaking now, and Zane thought for a moment that she was about to start sobbing, which he couldn’t take. Yeah, Crystal had manipulated him and Bree both. But he didn’t…couldn’t…hurt her. He just wished he could make her understand. But maybe that was asking too much since he didn’t really understand it himself.

  But instead of bursting into tears, Crystal fluffed up her hair and turned her body toward the door. “Sure. Okay. Fine. I get it.” Her voice was chirpy and mock cheerful now, like the children’s activities director on the one cruise Zane’s parents had ever been able to drag him on. “It’s over. No problem.”

  Crystal glanced over her shoulder and flashed Zane, the only boy she’d ever really loved, a withering smile. Holding her breath as she sprinted down the stairs, she dashed out of Richards before collapsing into tears on the grassy quad.

  RyanReynolds: U hear that? Sounds like Taylor won’t be getting any anymore.

  TeagueWilliams: Crystal’s pissed he’s getting TOO MUCH from the new chick with the boobs.

  RyanReynolds: Oh yeah? Word.

  EmilyJenkins: Just saw C walking across the quad with her makeup streaking down her face. What’s up?

  AlisonQuentin: Z broke up with her.

  EmilyJenkins: No way…

  AlisonQuentin: Yup. For Bree.

  EmilyJenkins: Hello awkwardness in room 303!

  MauriceJohnson: Hey hot stuff, hear the latest juice?

  JadeCarmichael: I already heard about ur nickname, Pony.

  MauriceJohnson: No, funny girl. Zane just told Crystal they’re through. Got pretty nasty.

  TinsieyCarmichael: Fuck-a-doodle-doo. She OK?

  MauriceJohnson: U know Zane ain’t nothing special. I hear he’s not that great anyway, though maybe u know the answer to that?

  MauriceJohnson: Hello?

  MauriceJohnson: Hellllllooooooo?

  9

  Crystal crossed the quad in a haze, knowing that she looked like something from a horror movie with her makeup running all over the place, but she was too distraught to care. She felt like her heart had been thrown out a two-hundredth-floor window to splat on the pavement below, so it seemed appropriate that she should look comparable. Even her perfect wool skirt now seemed ridiculously short, and her kitten-heel riding boots, bought with the hope that they’d inspire Zane into some sort of sexy riding instructor fantasy, looked unbearably slutty.

  She could feel everyone’s eyes on her, but contrary to popular belief, she was not comfortable in the spotlight. One of Crystal’s mother’s repeated mottos was Never let them see you cry. Crystal had been grateful to be sent to boarding school in the sixth grade, three years before her mother was even elected governor, if only to escape being reminded daily of the importance of proper posture and enunciation. Basically, Crystal’s parents had missed her entire adolescence, but she was probably better off because of it. She hated being home now, if that was what you called the thirty-plus-room mansion decorated entirely with museum-quality furnishings and lots of stuff that belonged to the state of Georgia and not them.

  When Crystal opened the door to room 303, Jade was sitting at her desk, her white iBook open and her fingers typing furiously, a pair of black plastic reading glasses bought in Milan perched on her perfect nose. “What’s wrong? Is it Zane?” she demanded. She was barefoot, wearing black leggings and a cropped black tee that showed off a slice of her concave stomach, her silky hair pulled back in a loose braid. She looked like a girl who would never in a million years get dumped—something Crystal could no longer claim.

  Crystal burst into tears again. “He dumped me!” she wailed, still incredulous but already resigned to it. I was dumped. I was dumped by Zane Taylor, she repeated in her head, as if repetition could make it more comprehensible.

  Crystal could see from Jade’s face that she was already prepared for disaster. Of course people were gossiping already. Zane probably had an underground fan club just waiting to spread the word the second he became single again.

  “Why? Why would he do that?” Jade grabbed the box of tissues from her bedside and brought them to Crystal. With Naomi so caught up in her own life and her fancy love affair with Mr. Dalton, Jade was the only real friend Crystal had.

  “Because he doesn’t like me anymore.” Crystal grabbed a tissue and blotted her face. “I don’t know. Because he thinks I’m repulsive?”

  “You know you’re being ridiculous.” Jade squeezed her shoulder with her French-manicured hand. “He could not find anyone more gorgeous than you if he spent the next fifty years searching. I can’t imagine what he’s thinking. He must be insane.” She shook her head in disbelief, as if Zane breaking up with Crystal was as incomprehensible to her as the latest practice SAT they’d all been assigned. It made Crystal feel a teeny bit better.

  “You’re right,” Crystal agreed, mimicking Jade’s sense of indignation. “What an asshole.” It felt a little better to be angry instead of crushed. Screw Zane. Screw midget Bree. Screw whatever the fuck was going on between them. She sat down on her bed and tugged off her heavy boots. They made her legs look too skinny anyway.

  “We should make him pay for this,” Jade said wickedly. Her violet eyes flashed as if she herself had been dumped. She’d always been one for plans, projects, and schemes, and the thought of plotting to avenge her brokenhearted friend made her tingle with excitement. Her parents had been madly, adorably in love for over twenty years, so she had an idea of what love should be, and she didn’t like to see people abuse it.

  “Right,” Crystal answered, hoping maybe Jade knew some sort of hex they could put on Zane to render him completely unattractive to women. Something that would make his dark curly hair start to grow all over his body until he looked like King Kong.

  “You were way too good for him anyway. He smells like horses.”

  Crystal groaned, and her hazel eyes filled with tears once again. She loved the way Zane smelled. It reminded her of when she was a kid and used to ride.

  Jade lit a cigarette and handed it to her. “You need to take your mind off him. Think about other things.”

  “Easier said than done.” She sucked smoke into her lungs. Jade sat on the bed behind Crystal, Indian style. She did yoga daily and was the most flexible person Crystal had ever met. Without even asking, she grabbed Crystal’s hairbrush from beside her bed and started to brush Crystal’s long, thick hair, something she’d always done last year. Jade was gentle, holding Crystal’s head in place with one hand while combing through her locks with the other. It was a sweet gesture, and Crystal almost started to cry again. Sweet was not a word most people associated with Jade, but she could be incredibly tender when she wanted to be.

  “I saw the guys coming out of the woods yesterday, all secrety-secrety about something.” Jade changed the subject, working at a snarl at the back of Crystal’s neck.

  Crystal leaned her head back, loving the feel of someone else brushing her hair. It was so soothing, like getting a pedicure. “Like some sort of male-bonding thing?” she asked dreamily.

  “Yeah, where they beat their chests and pretend they’re animals and don’t have calc homework to do.” Jade was still a little bitter about being excluded from anything, and hanging out with the boys was always fun. Now she would just have to make her own fun. “Let’s show them. Let’s start our own club. Except ours will be smarter and sexier.” You could hear the excitement in her voice, and it was contagious. “We could have, like, a secret society.”

  “None of those jackasses allowed,” Crystal said firmly. It would be fun to get away from slimy boys for a while. “And no boyfriends allowed either. You know, I haven’t been single in a long time—before Zane, it was Amir. And before Amir, it was…”

  “Ethan Lasser!” Jade said in a nasal voice, mocking Ethan’s Long Island accent. “Didn’t he have to transfer to Deerfield when you broke up with him, he was so heartbroken?”

  Crystal laughed again and took another drag on her cigarette. Sh
e had to admit how great it was to have Jade back. Even if she looked like a fucking model, she knew how to make you laugh. “Well, I don’t know if that’s why he left. But I did break his heart.”

  “You know what you are? A serial dater. You only have long-term relationships, and you go from one to another without stopping to look around.” Jade tossed the brush on the bed and patted Crystal’s head affectionately before lying down on her side. “You need to take a break. Get less serious for a while.”

  Easy for her to say. Jade grew bored with a guy after twenty consecutive minutes in his company. She didn’t mean to—she was just a victim of little bursts of infatuation that ended as quickly as they began. But maybe she was right. Maybe it would be good for Crystal to have a few one-night flings instead of long-term boyfriends. “Boyfriend,” Crystal said slowly, as if trying to figure out the Latin root of the word. “Boyfriend. What a strange, ugly, totally un-fun word!”

  “See? Boyfriends are such downers.” Jade rolled onto her back, her silky hair spreading around her head like a black halo. “You’re always worrying about where they are, who they’re with, what they’re doing, blah blah blah!”

  “Exactly!” Crystal laughed, then sighed heavily. In fact, right now all she wanted to know was where jerk-face Zane Taylor was, and, more important, who he was with. “You’re right.”

  “Good thing Naomi’s already shaken Corey loose.”

  Crystal hesitated for a minute, wondering if it would be wrong to mention Eric Dalton. She felt bad keeping something from Jade in the middle of all this sisterly friendship. “Well, she is sort of seeing someone. She hasn’t mentioned it to you?”

  “No.” Jade was a little disappointed that Naomi hadn’t told her anything, but she didn’t want to show it. “We haven’t really had a chance to catch up yet.” She pulled a tube of gloss from her pocket and applied it to her lips. “Who’s she seeing?”