Social Order (16 page)

This was a problem she'd never experienced in her life before. How to hide the fact that she was dating two boys from the two boys she was dating? Madness. Complete and utter madness.

In the bedroom, during a break in the complicated pool tournament the boys had set up, she stood in a corner with Alex. Make that very, very close to Alex. The room was packed with players and spectators, as well as a steady stream of couples going in and out of the closet, so getting pressed up against him was inevitable. Being this close to Alex was thrilling. No other word for it. And when, midway through a sentence, trying to make himself heard over the music and the shouting, he bent his head down so their foreheads were touching, Lauren almost gasped with excitement.

But there was no time to gasp, or anything else, because he kissed her.

Lauren Page had been kissed by a really cute boy. And not because she'd dumped her cell phone in a bowl. Because he liked her and wanted to kiss her.

She was afraid she was going to melt into a puddle on the floor at any second.

“I'm sorry,” Alex mumbled, stepping back a little and smiling sheepishly.

“Don't be,” she said quickly. “I mean, it was nice.”

What a stupid thing to say! “Nice.” Is that all she could come up with?

“I kind of thought so too,” he said, his dark eyes
boring into hers. Lauren wanted to shriek with happiness.

“Alex—you're up!” Another boy walking past slapped him on the shoulder. “Quarterfinals, dude!”

“Sorry,” he told her. “I can drop out of this stupid tournament if you like.”

“No, no,” she reassured him. “You go ahead. I need to go find my friend . . . Lili. She has this big story she wants to tell me. I'll come back here and find you, okay?”

“Don't run away,” he said, squeezing her hand.
Oh my God!
She'd just kissed Alex and then lied to him. She was the Mata Hari of Miss Gamble's. She might have to be put to death by firing squad when all her sneaky behavior was revealed, just like in that old black-and-white movie she saw with her mother one afternoon.

In the living room she found Christian leaning on his pool cue. His dreamy face cracked into a big puppy-dog grin when he saw her walking over.

“I was wondering where you were hiding,” he said, ruffling her hair so it was almost as messy as his. “You haven't been climbing into a closet with anyone, have you?”

“Oh, no,” Lauren said, widening her eyes. That was true. No closet required. She and Alex had kissed
in public. But no need to bother Christian with all the gory details . . .

“So.” He looked down at his shoes and then back up at her. “What do you say we give this Seven game a whirl? See if it's as fun as everyone says.”

“You mean . . . ?” Lauren wasn't sure if she was hearing right. It was bedlam in this room. Christian gestured with his left shoulder toward a closet. The sign read
VACANT
.

“Do you want to? 'Cause if you don't, it's okay. I just wondered . . .”

“It's okay,” she said without thinking. Christian looked so adorable, so hopeful. How could she resist him? It was only seven minutes, after all. “I was wondering as well.”

Miss Page, in the closet, with Crush Number Two.

Thank God there weren't TV cameras at
this
party.

LILI DIDN'T FEEL LIKE PLAYING
seven minutes in Heaven. All she wanted to do tonight was avoid Three Hours of Hell. And her idea of hell was being at a party—any party—where Max was anywhere in sight.

She was sitting as elegantly as she could manage on one of the squishy, eggplant-colored beanbags splattered around the basement's largest room, half listening to some girl on an adjacent beanbag dish about the last Seven party she'd attended. Every ten minutes or so the Bowlmaster led a blindfolded guy over to the bulbous glass bowl on the coffee table and watched while he fished out a cell phone. Lili shivered. That wasn't her idea of fun.

She didn't have A. A.'s nerve. Judging by the number of phones crammed in the bowl, Lili didn't have the courage of half the girls here tonight. After kissing Max at the last party, Lili had no interest in making out with anyone else for a long time. Maybe never. She'd really liked kissing Max, and he seemed to like kissing her. That is, until he freaked out and ran away. Lili didn't want to risk that happening again, so her cell phone was staying safely inside her bag tonight.

It must have been at least half an hour since A. A. had dropped her phone in the bowl, but she hadn't been “claimed” by anyone yet. Lili could see her sitting on the kitchenette's counter, chatting away with a couple of other girls from Miss Gamble's. The girls may have been willing, but it looked like the boys were more hesitant to really get Seven Minutes going. Typical! Ashley was right: Boys were so slow.

Ashley herself was AWOL. Lili had sent her a couple of texts, and Ashley had responded that she was busy washing her hair. Yeah, right. Ashley probably just wanted to make a grand entrance as usual. Tri was at the party, playing pool and looking pretty cute. Ashley had better get herself down here pronto if she didn't want her boyfriend lured away by one of these Seven-playing hussies.

Lauren had arrived, looking amazing in her dress and strappy wedges. Damn, that girl looked good! Ever since she'd started hanging with the Ashleys, she was looking more and more put-together.

The folks at AshleyRank had certainly noticed. Thinking of AshleyRank made Lili sit up a little straighter, clamp her knees together a little more firmly, and smile at the girl next to her, who was talking a little more brightly. Now that anyone could vote, the world had to see that Lili was the superior Ashley. She totally deserved to be number one.

Something was up with Lauren tonight. First of all, Lili saw her talking to one of the lax players—that one with the messy hair and the dimples. Christian, maybe? They were huddled in one corner for a while, and it looked like he was hanging on her every word. Then Lauren was in
another
huddle with Dark and Handsome over by the pool table. Well, she wasn't lying after all! Lauren was Miss Popularity! Well, as long as Lauren steered clear of a certain Reed Prep player, Lili didn't mind.

Max Costa. Max Costa. She
had
to stop obsessing over him. It was silly: She'd almost forgotten him, really. He was out of her mind. Totally out of it. At French conversation class, Lili felt as indifferent to him
as she used to feel to slacker Greg. Max was just some lame jock with a big ego. If he hadn't called a halt to their relationship-in-progress, she would have ended it herself, probably that night. There were so many more attractive and available fish in the sea. Next!

Lili scanned the basement, looking for a better prospect. Maybe she would drop her cell phone in the glass bowl after all. Or maybe she'd take a leaf out of Lauren's book and just work the room. If boys liked Lauren, they'd love Lili. She was still ahead of Lauren in the ranking. She shouldn't waste another second of her life thinking about Max.

Then she saw him.

He was walking down the stairs that led into the basement's living room. His blond hair was slicked back, and he was wearing a dark brown button-down shirt—the same cocoa color as his eyes—over a pair of faded jeans. His expression was kind of anxious and preoccupied, as though he wasn't really happy to be there.

Not that Lili was staring at him.

She shrank back into her beanbag, wishing it would swallow her up. Max stepped into the room and turned, obviously waiting for someone else coming down the stairs. A tall girl with curly brown hair, smiling like a
dumb Tiara Girl. Lili had met her at the last party: She was a seventh grader at Reed Prep, Max's school, which was coed. Her name was Holly or Polly or Dolly or something.

Holly or Polly or Dolly had said that she was glad she went to Reed Prep because she couldn't believe how unbelievably boy-crazy the girls she met from all-girls schools could be. She herself didn't see what the big deal was about having a boyfriend.

But Lili noticed bitterly how Holly or Polly or Dolly extended a slender hand to grab Max's arm, like a bird of prey wrapping its talons around a victim, and beamed a triumphant smile. Sure, it wasn't a big deal at all.

Lili's stomach felt like a concrete mixer, churning with sludge. Her eyes prickled with tears. The sight of Max at the party with another girl was devastating. Her evening was over. She had to get out of there.

A. A. HAD LOST SIGHT
of hunter: He was embroiled in a poker game in another room and seemed to have forgotten all about playing Seven Minutes in Heaven. Lili had already gone home. One look at Max and his smirking date, and Lili had called her driver and asked to be picked up right away. A. A. told her she'd stick around for a little longer.

When Lauren seemed to disappear as well, A. A. was the last Ashley in the room, but that was okay. She played two games of pool with some of Ned's friends, studiously avoiding any conversation with Tri. It was so embarrassing because she sucked at pool, and he kept looking over at her like he was desperate to talk to her.
Maybe to give her tips on her form. Or maybe it was just because Ashley wasn't here, she guessed. Too bad—she wasn't an Ashley substitute.

But when she walked over to the kitchenette to get another soda, Tri followed her, obviously determined to get her attention.

“Do you want a drink?” she asked him, holding up the Diet Pepsi bottle and swinging it in front of him. “Or are you just following me to make sure I don't go off with any guys I can't handle? I know you're a
much
better judge of character than I am.”

Tri looked down, not managing to hide his shamefaced grin.

“You're still mad at me about what I said?” he asked, his bright blue eyes glancing up at her.

A. A. shrugged. It was hard to stay mad at Tri, especially when he looked so cute. And she knew, in her heart of hearts, why she was really mad at him, but she couldn't tell him that.

“Good.” He looked relieved. “Because that would make this even more awkward.”

“What?” A. A. slung the bottle back into the mini-fridge and turned to face Tri. “This party?”

Tri shook his head.

“No, I mean . . .”

“What?” she asked again. What was wrong with this boy? He couldn't even finish a sentence since Ashley had gotten her hands on him.

Tri said nothing at all: He simply held up a cell phone.
Her
cell phone.

“I pulled it out of the bowl,” he told her. “I knew it was yours before I even got the blindfold off.”

“The rhinestones,” she said quietly, her heart beating faster.

“Yeah. So, you know. We have to go into the closet. The Bowlmaster's watching.”

They both looked over at the guy in the Perspex chair. He saluted them and pointed to the nearest closet. The sign on the door read
VACANT
.

“He's kind of a stickler for tradition,” Tri said, his voice apologetic.

“Well,” said A. A., her heart racing and her mouth dry.
What about Ashley?
she wanted to ask.
Your girlfriend? My best friend?
But maybe it didn't matter, because it was only a stupid game. It didn't mean what she thought it meant. All they had to do was sit around in a closet for seven minutes. She could do that. “Then I guess we have to.”

“Yeah.” He nodded, not meeting her gaze. “I guess we do.”

Tri led her into the big double closet, turning the sign to
OCCUPIED
before closing the door. It was so dark in there that she almost tripped on something before Tri steadied her with a hand on her elbow.

Unlike the last closet A. A. had found herself in, this one was empty apart from two cushions on the ground.

“Very thoughtful,” she said, sitting down on one and scooting over so Tri could sit down next to her. She had this sudden nervous urge to talk. “Unless this is what they use their closets for—you know, to keep cushions in. Which doesn't make sense at all. I mean, who has extra cushions?”

He chuckled, and the noises of the party were muffled, but A. A. felt like the loudest sound in the closet was her pounding heart. They were alone together in the dark. The two of them had been alone before—countless times, just hanging out in her room, but never like this. She pulled her knees up to her chin. She liked it inside the closet; it felt warm and cozy sitting next to Tri. She had really missed him.

“So how do you like the new version of Call of Duty: Ghosts? Is it everything they said it would be?” she asked.

“Yeah, it's pretty cool. My brother got us a subscription to a multiplayer Wii channel. It rocks. You should get one—we can team up maybe.”

“Sure, why not?” They talked a little more about video games and the latest episode of
Cheaters
, which neither of them was allowed to watch but did anyway. A. A. started to relax and enjoy his company. She'd almost forgotten the reason they were sitting in the closet, when Tri reached over and put his hand over hers.

“A. A.” His voice was soft.

“Yeah?”

“I don't think we're supposed to spend seven minutes
talking
. . . .”

“Oh . . .” A. A. tried to keep the panic out of her voice. She'd known Tri
forever
. “You mean we just sit here in silence?” He wasn't thinking what she was thinking, was he? How could he? He had a girlfriend! Who was Ashley. What was she doing in here with someone else's boyfriend? A. A. felt confusion and excitement and guilt.

“Well, technically, we have to kiss,” said Tri, and now he sounded nervous as well. “Those are the rules of the game.”