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  Lili had won the day. They were going to Stinson Beach for Congé, and Lauren was in for one nasty surprise.

  28

  EVERYTHING’S JUST BEACHY

  USUALLY ASHLEY COULDN'T WAIT UNTIL Thursday morning—because it was almost the last day of school that week, and she had a whole weekend ahead that didn’t involve boring things like classes or ugly things like school uniforms. But this week, Thursday was the biggest day of the week—maybe of the semester.

  At the headmistress’s morning meeting, held in the Little Theater, with all the school assembled on bleachers and all the teachers sitting on the stage, Ashley arose from her seat and walked very slowly up to the podium. She wanted to make this moment last as long as possible. With every step she took, she could hear the whispers behind her growing louder and more excited. Why was Ashley Spencer walking up to the stage? Could this mean . . . could it possibly mean . . .

  Yes!

  “Surprise!” she shouted into the microphone. “Today is Congé!”

  The entire school erupted into shrieks of delight. Girls leaped up in their seats, woo-hooing and hugging one another. No school! A day off! Total fun to be had by everyone!

  Well, not quite everyone. Ashley stared in triumph at the forlorn members of the S. Society, who were the only girls in the school still in their seats. Now they knew the terrible truth—that the Ashleys had come up with the winning idea for Congé. That sealed their ownership of the bench, the table at the refectory, and Social Club. Ha!

  “Where are we going? Where are we going?” The whole school was shrieking at her. The headmistress, lurking nearby, had to hold up a hand to silence them.

  “You want to know where we’re going?” Ashley asked coyly, and everyone roared back at her.

  This was brilliant! “Okay, okay. In exactly fifteen minutes, stretch limo eco-buses will be pulling up outside the school to take us to . . . Stinson Beach!”

  It was like someone had suddenly turned down the volume. Everyone still looked happy about getting the day off, but Stinson Beach clearly wasn’t the most exciting destination in the world. Some people looked distinctly disappointed. Ashley heard someone—was it Sheridan Riley?—saying, “But it’s just some dumb beach.”

  The thing was, Ashley kind of agreed with them. Stinson Beach was pretty lame, as beaches went. But what people didn’t realize was that the beach was crawling with boys this week. And Cooper was almost certain to be there!

  Ashley stepped down from the stage and wandered into the milling crowd. Most of the girls were too excited about getting the day off to complain about the actual destination. But she was delighted to see that the members of the S. Society looked très annoyed. Of course they were!

  They were muttering together—arguing, even. They probably couldn’t work out how a bus ride to Stinson Beach could possibly have beaten a private visit to Great America. At the sight of their miserable faces, Ashley could barely suppress malicious laughter.

  She found A. A. and Lili in the crowd. “Are you guys wearing your bikinis?” she asked. “I’m wearing mine under my uniform.”

  “Um, yeah,” Lili said, lowering her voice and glancing around the room. It was emptying out now as everyone made their way to the buses. “Did you see the look on Lauren’s face?”

  Yikes—Lauren. Ashley had been in denial about this all week. She’d agreed to go along with Lili’s scheme, keeping Lauren in the dark about the real plan for Congé, even though she thought Lili was acting kind of crazy and paranoid. Now Ashley looked up at the bleachers and spotted Lauren: She was still sitting there, her face pale and stunned. Poor thing! She was probably wondering why, after she had come up with an awesome idea, the Ashleys had decided to go with the much-less-original plan of Stinson Beach.

  “She looks pretty mad,” Ashley said.

  “She’ll get over it,” Lili insisted. “Come on—we have to hurry! A. A.’s already out there.”

  Settling into her front-row seat in the bus, Ashley couldn’t help thinking about Lauren. On Monday morning the committee leaders had presented their rival Congé plans to Miss Charm. Ashley had let Lili act as leader, mainly to keep up the ruse in front of Lauren. Lili said that Sadie Graham had gone into the library first and come out smiling from ear to ear. Obviously, she was sure the S. Society would win! But the Ashleys knew better, of course. Lili had told Miss Charm that the Ashleys had come up with the same idea of booking Great America, but they’d discovered—just that morning—that the whole place was closed for emergency maintenance for the next week and a half. Too bad! A fun, wholesome trip to Stinson Beach would have to do. And, faced with no choice at all, Miss Charm and the other teachers agreed.

  Lauren had no idea that Congé was even happening today because Lili had convinced the Ashleys to keep her in the dark. She must have spent the whole night studying for an honors science test—a test the Ashleys knew wasn’t going to happen. Poor Lauren! If Ashley had been the one doing hours of unnecessary work, she would be mad as well.

  And if Ashley had been the one realizing that she was still an outsider who got excluded by her supposed best friends . . . well, that would never happen. And if it did? She would be furious.

  But she couldn’t allow pity for Lauren to ruin her day. At Stinson Beach, she and A. A. and Lili planned to parade around in bikinis in front of the entire seventh and eighth grades of Gregory Hall. Bikinis and boys. Hello! Everyone else might think Stinson was boring, but she was sure today was going to be tons of fun. In fact, it was going to be the best Congé ever.

  29

  ITSY-BITSY, TEENY-WEENY, YELLOW POLKA-DOT TANKINI

  LILI HAD LIED TO ASHLEY that morning.

  It wasn’t a big lie. It wasn’t an end-of-the-world-or-at-least-their-friendship lie. This morning, when Ashley asked Lili if she and A. A. were both wearing their bikinis under their school uniforms, Lili had said, “Um, yeah.” Though what she really meant was, of course A. A.’s wearing her bikini.

  Because Lili had other plans.

  Ever since that horrible hike with Max, when he accused her of being super uptight and too high maintenance, Lili had been thinking. Was she too rigid? Too stuck in a rut? She’d taken a few tentative steps to mix up her game, buying some vintage clothes and breaking with the Ashley-mandated bag and shoes. But why not push herself a little further out of her comfort zone?

  As soon as the fleet of eco-buses arrived at Stinson Beach, the Ashleys sprinted to the public restrooms to get changed. They weren’t the only ones ripping off school uniforms: A lot of the other girls had brought a change of clothes with them to school every day that month in case Congé was announced.

  But the Ashleys were the only ones who knew they were going to a beach, and they were the only ones who had matching red bikinis with ASHLEY monogrammed over the butt in white letters.

  Annoyingly, Ashley had taken pity on Lauren and brought along an extra monogrammed bikini just for her. Lili couldn’t believe how soft Ashley was getting. Why was she being so nice to Lauren all of a sudden? Where did her loyalties lie? Lili wondered.

  Lili stood on a small towel in a toilet stall, tugging off her school skirt. Under her uniform she was wearing a swimsuit, but not one Ashley had picked out. It was something she’d seen in a magazine and gotten her mother’s live-in seamstress to make for her.

  The suit was less a bikini than a cute tank top and bikini bottom, like one Bridget Bardot had worn, according to Vogue. Although Bardot was a major sixties sex symbol, the suit was actually more modest than the skimpy little numbers A. A., Ashley, and Lauren were wearing. Nancy had liked the design and sourced the perfect vintage yellow and black patterned fabric from a family contact in Taiwan.

  “Everyone ready?” Ashley shrieked from her cubicle. By “everyone,” Lili knew she meant the Ashleys. This day was all about them, of course. Lili took a deep breath and swung open the door, stepping out over h
er now packed school bag. In addition to her vintage-style swimsuit, she was wearing raffia sandals from Twist Again and a floppy straw hat.

  “Cute!” A. A., who was doing twirls in her red bikini, grinned when she spotted Lili. “You look so Bond movie! All we need now is for Daniel Craig to whisk you away somewhere glamorous like Marrakech or Istanbul.”

  All I need is for Max to see me, Lili thought, wishing­—not for the first time—that he went to Gregory Hall rather than the School of Performing Monkeys, as Ashley had referred to it on the bus. His school was on break now, but she wasn’t sure if he planned to come by the beach today—he hadn’t said anything about it.

  “Off message,” sniffed Ashley, scrutinizing her from head to toe. “But not bad.”

  Lili wasn’t sure whether to feel relieved or resentful. Why should she even care what Ashley thought? If it wasn’t for Lili, they wouldn’t even be at Stinson Beach today—they’d all be playing dress-up at the Japanese Tea Garden, just as Ashley’s BFF Lauren wanted. Who was Ashley Spencer anyway these days? Not the boss of Lili, that was for sure.

  Lauren was standing there as well, barefoot and in her red Ashleys bikini. She did not look happy, even though the bikini suited her svelte figure and perfect tan. Lili wanted to tell her to cheer up—things could be worse. At least they’d given her a bikini. Some of the other girls had to lum­ber around the beach all day wearing school uniforms.

  And at least she had a boyfriend who went to Gregory Hall, a boyfriend who didn’t accuse her of being uptight, conventional, and humorless.

  Ashley was already pushing open the door to the restroom block, eager to get out on the beach and find the Gregory Hall camp. A. A., Lili, and Lauren followed her, hurrying into the sun . . . but what sun? The sun had disappeared. A cold wind whipped the beach, and rain clouds loomed. Brrrrrr! Lili had to grab her hat before it blew away.

  “Sweatshirts!” Ashley screeched, tugging matching monogrammed sweatshirts in the softest faded-red jersey out of her Pucci beach bag. She was like Mary Poppins today, Lili thought—she had so much stuff hidden in that bag.

  They all pulled on their sweatshirts and looked at one another. Would today be a total washout? Lili consoled herself with the knowledge that if today totally blew, hopefully the whole school would forget about it over spring break.

  “At least we can still play beach volleyball,” A. A. pointed out. She scanned the beach, shivering. Lauren just stood, clutching her sleeves and looking glum.

  “And we can have campfires over by the grills,” Lili told Ashley. “Look—there’s a grill next to every picnic table. Did you bring marshmallows?”

  All around them, the first and second graders were chattering excitedly about setting up the campfires.

  “Of course!” said Ashley, not looking fazed one iota. “All we need is a bunch of sharp sticks. Maybe the S. Society can collect them? Or have the younger grades do it? We can’t be expected to do all the work for Congé!”

  Lili had to hand it to her: Ashley Spencer knew how to make the best of things. And today, in this one thing—this one thing only—Lili was prepared to follow her lead.

  30

  OH, WHAT A TANGLED WEB WE WEAVE

  LAUREN WAS IN A STATE of shock. She might be swarming the beach with everyone else from Miss Gamble’s, poking a toe in the water, gathering driftwood for fires, and pulling their picnic tables as close to the Gregory Hall geology field trip encampment as possible.

  She might be dressed in the Ashley-approved-wear of red sweatshirt over her bikini, because it was turning into quite a cold day. But behind the goose-pimpled arms and frozen smile, she was in turmoil.

  The Ashleys had lied to her. They had pretended to go along with her idea when they had no intention of doing any such thing. They had known about Congé for two days but said nothing.

  Sure, Ashley Spencer had given her a monogrammed bikini and muttered something about not meaning to leave Lauren out of things. But A. A. and Lili just stuck their noses in the air and didn’t even attempt an apology.

  Even worse than being lied to was . . . being a liar herself. The look on Sadie’s face was making Lauren feel really bad. Sadie was hobbling around the beach in her booties, looking for pieces of wood, stopping every so often to tug at her argyle socks.

  The S. Society wasn’t at all prepared for today being Congé: They were still waiting to get the forty-eight-hour notice from Miss Charm. They were so sure they’d won. And, of course, they probably would have, if Lauren hadn’t blabbed their plans to Ashley.

  Lauren felt alienated from everyone. Alienated from Sadie, whom she’d betrayed. Alienated from the Ashleys, who’d betrayed her. She wandered away from the other girls. She’d spent the entire night before cramming for an earth science test that wasn’t going to happen. She felt like a total fool. She thought she’d outsmarted everyone, but she was wrong.

  Some of the Gregory Hall boys were still pretending to look for rocks, but most of them had wandered into the picnic area under the trees and were busy helping build fires in the grills or whittle sticks for marshmallows. Even the Gregory Hall teachers seemed more interested in lighting grills and chatting with the Miss Gamble’s teachers than their own geology project.

  Lauren stumbled over a rock, stubbing her toe. Ouch! Served her right. She rubbed at her stinging eyes with the back of one sleeve. She deserved to be miserable.

  “Hey.” She looked up, sniffing loudly, to find Christian pulling off his Gregory Hall fleece—blue and gold, the school colors—and handing it to her. “You look cold even with that sweatshirt. Put this around your shoulders.”

  “Thanks,” she said gratefully. They stood together, looking out at the gray, roiling sea.

  “Some day to come to the beach, huh?” he asked.

  “It’s a horrible day,” she told him. “In every way.”

  “Well, not every way,” he said. He turned to look at her with that mischievous grin she found so irresistible. “I’m here, and you’re here. Right?”

  “True.” Lauren couldn’t help smiling at him. “Thank goodness you’re here,” she said. Why had she wasted so much energy on some backstabbing girls who would never even accept her? Christian was her best friend. And she’d hardly made any time for him in the past couple of months.

  “Your knight in shining fleece,” he joked.

  They both laughed. Lauren looked down at her feet, toes burrowing into the cold sand.

  “Too bad it’s cold,” she said. “I’m wearing a really cute bikini under all these layers.”

  He leaned toward her, nudging her with one shoulder. “I don’t know, you look pretty cute in that sweatshirt.”

  “Thanks.” Today wasn’t looking so bleak after all. Lauren couldn’t believe that just a few days ago she was arguing with Christian—practically breaking up with him, or at least driving him away—because of a bunch of selfish girls who didn’t even consider her a friend.

  Lauren almost reached for one of the rocks Christian was holding, to bash herself in the head. For a smart girl, sometimes she could be so stupid.

  31

  WHAT’S NOT TO LIKE?

  A. A. HAD ROUNDED UP A team for beach volley­ball, and a few of the Gregory Hall boys were helping her set up the posts and net, but it wasn’t easy—the wind kept blowing everything over. Suddenly it felt a whole lot colder and windier, and then . . . was that a rumble of thunder?

  The sky turned an angry shade of charcoal, and all of a sudden rain began to fall, pouring down and sweeping the exposed beach in dark sheets. Congé was a bust!

  Everyone on the beach and in the picnic area scattered, racing for cover. A. A. decided to make for a rocky overhang under the cliffs, running as fast as she could across the wet sand, still clutching the volleyball net.

  She hadn’t had time to bundle it up, so it was trailing her like a mermaid’s tail, entangling her
feet. The rocks up ahead were almost invisible in the heavy rain, and she was completely soaked by the time she reached them. Only one or two more steps—aaargh! That stupid net! It was wrapping around her ankles, tripping her up!

  “I got you!” A strong hand grabbed her, pulling her upright and dragging her beneath the overhang. “You okay?” Tri asked.

  “Yeah, I’m fine—just wet.” A. A.’s hair was plastered on her face, and it tasted as salty as the sea. Her sweatshirt and yoga pants were like a second, icy skin. On a day like this, they should have been in ski suits, not beachwear. A. A. shivered, pushing her hair out of her face, relishing the warm, scratchy feeling of a blazer being draped around her shoulders.

  “It’s kind of damp as well, sorry.”

  “That’s . . . that’s okay,” she told him. Now that she could see clearly, A. A. tried to unwrap the volleyball net from around her legs. Tri crouched down to help. A few other kids were huddled nearby, close to the tide line, waiting for the rain to stop, but A. A. couldn’t see the other Ashleys. All she could see were wet rocks, a pounding sea, and sheet after sheet of rain.

  When Tri finished pulling the net away from her legs, he stood up and shot A. A. a long, serious look. Was he still mad at her? Was he going to disappear into the rain and leave her standing there?

  “Come back here,” he said, gesturing with his head. “There’s this kind of cave thing back there. We can sit in it until the rain stops.”

  He took her hand and pulled her along the narrow lane of dry sand. His hand felt dry and warm. It was the first time Tri had touched her since they’d kissed at that party so long ago, and A. A. could barely stand it.

  The cave Tri was talking about wasn’t so much a cave as a ledge about four feet off the ground, a tiny ridged nook worn into the cliff face. He jumped up into it and turned to pull A. A. in.