Read The Ivy: Scandal Online

Authors: Lauren Kunze,Rina Onur

Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Dating & Sex, #Friendship, #Social Issues, #School & Education

The Ivy: Scandal (5 page)

Callie held her breath. Alessandra seemed to shrink slightly before her eyes, appearing suddenly younger somehow, and not just because she no longer held the lingerie in her hands.

“I…thank you,” the older girl said finally. “I appreciate your honesty. I also would have appreciated hearing it from
you—or him—earlier instead of finding out when I went through his phone.”

“His phone?” Callie repeated, remembering that day in the library when Gregory had brought her lunch and asked her advice, as a friend, about what to do regarding Alessandra’s trust issues, citing unsent texts she’d discovered addressed to another girl.

Was
I
that other girl? Callie wondered.

Alessandra shook her dark, wild curls out of her face. “It’s not important. But so long as we are getting everything out in the open now…I have to ask: when you two were stranded on the island, did you—um—did he—I mean, did you and him…hook up?”

“No,” said Callie. Hard as it had been to resist, she wouldn’t trade a single kiss for the moment when he’d said, “I feel the same way,” his fingers brushing across her shoulder, warm like sunlight. It was like every muscle in her body had tensed and relaxed at the same time, flooding her with simultaneous feelings of exhilaration and relief, of security and anticipation. “He made it clear that he would never…cheat on you,” she added.

Alessandra grimaced, roused from what seemed like her own faraway memory. “You know, before I—came to Harvard, I never had much luck with men. I was what you might call ‘a late bloomer.’”

“Why do I find that so hard to believe?” said Callie, taking in Alessandra’s chocolatey brown eyes, her full luscious lips, and worthy-of-the-Victoria’s-Secret-fashion-show-runway body.

“Believe what you want,” Alessandra muttered, “but it’s true. Before I met Gregory—Well, let’s just say, I was a completely
different person back then. I never knew what it could feel like to just…fit in. Or to fall in love.”

Callie shuffled her feet, glancing at her dirty Converse.

“I do love him,” said Alessandra in a tone that compelled Callie to look her in the eyes. “I didn’t expect to…but I do. And so do you,” Alessandra added softly.

Grimly Callie nodded. Since there was really nothing left to say, she began to retreat out of the room.

“Hey,” Alessandra called suddenly. “Is this it?”

“Huh?” said Callie, turning.

“Your book,” said Alessandra, picking up the volume that stood atop Gregory’s bookshelf. “The one that you lent him?”

Callie’s heart skipped. She had no idea how she had missed it earlier, for now the book was instantly recognizable. Battered and worn, it was Gregory’s copy of Jane Austen’s
Persuasion
. They had read it together in the New Haven hospital while waiting for Mimi to recover. Right before the first—and only—time they’d given in to their feelings that they had, up until spring break, been otherwise too cowardly to admit having.

A Post-it note was affixed to the cover.

“‘Callie,’” Alessandra read slowly. “‘My apologies for the delay.’ Huh?” She frowned. “
What
delay?”

Callie shrugged and reached for the book. Just as she knew full well that the book did not belong to her—as Alessandra seemed to think—so she was certain that Gregory had concealed a secret note within its pages.

Reluctantly Alessandra handed it over.

“Well,” said Callie, nearly tripping as she stumbled into the common room, “guess I’ll see you around!”

“Yeah,” Alessandra started to call after her. “See you—”

But Callie didn’t hear the rest, slamming the door to C 23 shut behind her.

Out in the hall Callie could restrain herself no longer. Opening the book, she flipped through its pages. Then, frowning, she turned it upside and shook.

Nothing.

Maybe she’d been mistaken to believe there’d be a note. After all, their track record with notes wasn’t so good, if the massive mix-up after Harvard-Yale—when a note from Callie to Vanessa had ended up in Gregory’s hands and been woefully misinterpreted—was any indication.

Groaning, Callie thumbed through the pages a final time. While there was plenty of marginalia wherein Gregory had recorded his thoughts on the text, no slip of paper confessing his undying love or explaining everything fluttered to the floor.

Shutting the book, she reexamined the Post-it.
My apologies for the delay
, she reread, over and over until the words lost all meaning. Sighing, she opened the door to C 24. She’d been waiting—if she was honest with herself—for the entire year; what was a little more time? “And now on to more pressing issues,” she muttered aloud, walking across the common room.

Matt and Vanessa had successfully erected the bulletin board in
Callie’s absence, complete with pictures and items cut from the list of “People Who Hate Me” tacked beneath them. If only Vanessa hadn’t decimated the yellow legal pad in the process, Callie thought ruefully, they could have added Alessandra to the list.

“Did you make the end of class?” asked Matt.

Callie shook her head.

“Are you okay?” he asked. “What’s with the book?”

Callie shook her head again. “It’s nothing,” she said, sticking it on her shelf.

“Of
course
she’s not
okay
,” Vanessa said huffily. “Not while the asshole who is trying to frame her, ruin her life, and have her kicked out of the Hasty Pudding, and Harvard, and probably off the planet, too, is still out there plotting her imminent demise!”

Callie raised an eyebrow at Vanessa as if to say,
And that was supposed to make me feel better?

“There, there,” said Vanessa. “I have something that might cheer you up,” she continued, snatching a large photograph of Alexis Thorndike and positioning it in the center of the bulletin board. Smiling, she handed Callie a thumbtack.

Grimacing in return, Callie speared it through Lexi’s forehead.

Matt shifted uncomfortably. “I still don’t think it’s wise to expend all of our energy—”

“Oh, please,” Vanessa snapped. “She’s the only possible person who satisfies all of
your
criteria,” she said to Matt, pointing to the upper left-hand side of the board where several index cards bore his handwriting.

FACT:
The Ivy Insider had Callie’s username and password.
FACT:
The Ivy Insider had access to “inside” Pudding information=>is
likely
a veteran member of the Pudding.
FACT:
The Ivy Insider had access to the Crimson offices=>is
likely
a staff member or COMPer of the Crimson or FM.

Callie stared at the list of “facts.” Vanessa was right. There was only one person on the board who was in the Pudding, was on
FM
, and was certainly devious enough to have somehow determined Callie’s password.

Alexis Thorndike.

A faint shadow fell across the photograph of Alexis as the sun started to sink behind the brick buildings and towering trees outside in Harvard Yard. Chestnut curls framed porcelain skin and a smile that—darkening in the wake of the setting sun—sent chills down Callie’s spine.

“I know you did it,” Callie muttered, staring at her archrival’s likeness. What I don’t know—yet—is how to prove it.

“Don’t worry,” said Vanessa, placing a hand on Callie’s shoulder. “It’s only a matter of time until you find a way….”

Pursing his lips, Matt tacked a final item onto the lower right-hand corner of the board. It was the notice alerting Callie to her mid-May hearing date with the Student-Faculty Judicial Board: a grim reminder that, unfortunately, time was also running out.

TWO

I Pledge Allegiance

“TODAY’S GOSSIP IS TOMORROW’S NEWS.”

>>IVY LEAGUE >>HARVARD >>STUDENT BODY SCANDALS >>GREGORY BOLTON

Harvard Student Flees Campus

Following Father’s Hedge Fund Fiasco

#FirstWorldProblems #RichWhiteBoyProblems #HedgeFundScandals #HarvardCampusCelebs

He may still have his
smarts
,
looks
, and a
bangin’ hot girlfriend
, but Harvard University freshman Gregory Bolton’s trust fund, estimated at
way more money than our collective readership will probably see in a lifetime
, has barely enough left to fund his tuition.

*Cue “The Ballad of Rich White Boy Suffering”*

No, but seriously, you’ve got to feel at least a little bit bad for the guy. According to sources at the
Crimson
, he’s been absent from campus for over a week now, rumored to have fled in the middle of the night before the scandal broke surrounding his famed—now
infamous
—hedge fund founding father Pierce Bolton’s alleged use of personal funds to pay off investors after a series of toxic investments. Well, shucks, you’d probably run away if Daddy lost all of your classmates’ parents’ money, too!

Perhaps the most ominous development for the younger Bolton in the unfolding scandal is the widely circulating rumor that investors at Bolton and Stamford Enterprises may have been paid off largely with assets originating from a trust fund in Gregory’s name. (Prior to his eighteenth birthday, his father, Pierce, acted as trustee for the account.)

So exactly how complicit is the young Mr. Bolton? Did he have no idea Daddy was pilfering an account set up for him by his late mother, or did he, a former summer intern at Bolton and Stamford, authorize the transactions willingly? No doubt the SEC is also quite curious. Though a
criminal complaint still has yet to be filed
against Pierce Bolton, certain financial insiders swear that it’s “only a matter of time.”

It may be too soon, however, to predict that Gregory might eventually trade his single in Wigglesworth, a Harvard dormitory, for bunk beds with Daddy in a white-collar clinker.

Earlier today the
New York Times
reported that a huge “miracle investment” from Constantine Capital Investments in Bolton and Stamford Enterprises is likely to keep the firm afloat even in spite of the large number of withdrawals requested by clientele over the past week.

Is it just a coincidence, then, that the
confirmed girlfriend
of the younger Mr. Bolton is Alessandra
Constantine
, a sophomore at Harvard University?

We think not!

Ms. Constantine declined to comment, though a recent profile in [
FM
magazine] of the “Cutest Couples on Campus” has her
swearing to “stick by [Gregory] no matter what happens.” (Incidentally, Bolton—rumored to be under “house arrest” imposed by family attorneys in Manhattan—could also not be reached for comment.)

Constantine and Bolton met this past winter during a New Year’s Eve party at the Ritz. According to various classmates, they have been “attached at the hip” ever since, and though the pair has been together only a few short months, friends describe their relationship as: “serious—very serious.” Pictures of the couple can also be found in the aforementioned [
FM
magazine] piece.

Ooo la la! Is it just me or does it seem like those two could live on looks alone?

In conclusion, Gregory: whether you emerge unscathed or if the old adage “like father, like son” proves altogether too true, this reporter can be reached @lizbarker in the event that your relationship fails to withstand the scandal(!).

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