Social Order Page 9

  Of course she would! Lauren used to go to Golden Gate Park all the time when she was a little girl, because her parents didn’t have much money and the park was free. Her father had been a graduate teaching assistant for most of her childhood, working on his PhD and scraping by on an academic stipend, while her mother had a part-time job at a not-for-profit organization that paid her almost nothing to answer the phone and type letters. Their favorite place to spend time on Sunday afternoons was the Japanese Tea Garden. Of course, she hadn’t mentioned all that stuff about being poor to Christian. He was a Gregory Hall boy, and not a scholarship student. She didn’t want him to know that she used to live in a walk-up in the Mission.

  Over the weekend, Alex had called as well. His mother was hosting some big, boring cocktail reception—“the usual socialite shindig,” he told her on the phone, “comb-overs and canapés”—at the de Young museum in the park. The museum closed at five, but the reception didn’t begin until six. Did Lauren want to hang out there for an hour?

  With all the crowds gone, they could have their own private tour of the place. He remembered her saying at the party how much she liked the park and the museum. Oh God, Lauren thought, I must have gone around saying the same things to everyone! I really need to work on my conversation skills.

  Of course, the night of Alex’s museum event had to be Wednesday, the one afternoon Christian could meet her in the Japanese Tea Garden. Lauren took a deep breath and agreed to do both. What had she done? Was she hanging out with the Ashleys so much that she was turning into one of them?

  Going out with two boys at the same time was just the sort of duplicitous, selfish thing an Ashley would do. But Lauren couldn’t help it! She liked both of them—what was wrong with that? It wasn’t like they were exclusive or anything. She was just having fun.

  Besides, an Ashley would most definitely not go to the Japanese Tea Garden. The other day, when she was having lunch with the Ashleys, Lili had dissed the fortune cookie that they were giving out on International Day, saying that they were actually an American invention. Just like sweet and sour pork and General Tso’s chicken. Then Lauren piped up and told them how, a hundred years ago, fortune cookies were invented by the Japanese gardener who looked after the Tea Garden in the park.

  She’d thought the girls were interested, so she had kept talking—about how someone in L.A. claimed to have invented them, and how the Court of Historical Review had finally decided that they originated in San Francisco—until Ashley finally held up a hand to stop her and said it was the most boring story she’d ever heard.

  Luckily, Christian didn’t seem to find it boring. She told him all about it as they crossed one of the stepping-stone paths and circled a beautiful, serene lily pond. He was still in his Gregory Hall uniform, his shirt hanging out and his dark blond hair so messy it looked like he’d done somersaults down a hill to get here.

  Lauren had raced home after school to change, telling Dex to drive as fast as possible. He ignored her, of course, and drove at his usual speed, laughing at her for trying to cram too many dates into one afternoon. She decided on jeans and a casual T-shirt with a funny slogan, “Don’t Waste My Daytime Minutes,” that she hoped would appeal to Christian’s sense of humor.

  Somehow she felt less pressure hanging out with a boy like Christian than with the Ashleys. Or with any of the girls at Miss Gamble’s, actually. He didn’t even seem to care what she was wearing, aside from cracking up at her T-shirt. He just smiled at her a lot and tried to make her laugh by pretending to almost fall off one of the stepping-stones.

  Lauren especially loved the steep, curving moon bridge, which was more like a ladder than a bridge you walked over. She used to love clambering up it when she was a little girl, using her hands to pull herself up to the top.

  “It’s modeled on an ancient Chinese canal crossing,” Lauren explained to Christian, and he very seriously wrote that down in his notebook. She’d been worried he’d think she was too geeky, but he didn’t seem to mind.

  “Race you to the top?” he suggested, nodding toward the bridge, and she started running right away—without a head start, she’d never beat him!

  They were having such a good time that when she pulled out her phone to check the time, Lauren was startled. With a pang, she realized it was almost five and time to meet Alex. She was reluctant to leave him.

  “I’ve got to meet my mom now,” she said. She hated having to lie to Christian, but it seemed kind of rude to tell him she was off on a date with another boy. “For this reception thing at the museum I told you about—I’m really sorry I have to go.”

  She was sorry. Hanging out with Christian was a lot of fun. She really liked him a lot.

  “That’s okay,” he said. “Hey, you wanna go see that new disaster movie next week? The one with the robots taking over the world or something?”

  “Don’t the robots always take over the world?” asked Lauren.

  “But of course! Me, I’m scared of my iPod, aren’t you?” Christian laughed.

  “Oh, completely, and I’m not too sure about this cell phone either.” She grinned. “It’s either going to give me cancer or take control of my brain.”

  “I’ll text you,” he promised.

  She had another date with Christian! Whee. But first she had to get through date number two.

  Christian gave her a quick hug, and when he was gone, Lauren ran all the way to the de Young museum, pounding through the elegant sculpture garden and arriving at the main entrance of the distinctive, copper-covered building pretty much out of breath. She hoped Alex wouldn’t notice too much.

  In a nearby restroom, she changed into outfit number two: a short, strapless, satin Rhys Dwfen dress with sky-high Alexandra Neel slingbacks.

  Alex was waiting for her outside. Dark-haired, smoldering Alex, whose face broke into a giant smile when he saw her. The butterflies in her stomach returned.

  “Sorry I’m late,” she wheezed, desperately trying to straighten her dress collar and flatten her flyaway hair as they walked through the first courtyard.

  Inside the sweeping central court of the museum, with its high ceilings, pale stone floor, and giant black-and-white photographic mural, caterers were setting up food stations and bars. A tall, dark-haired woman in a silk Lanvin dress, her hair in a chic bun, was talking to waiters in tuxedoes.

  “That’s my mother,” whispered Alex, grabbing Lauren’s arm. “Unless you want to be put to work filling ice buckets, we better get outta here.”

  They ducked into one of the adjoining galleries, which was empty of any other visitors, just as he had promised. Lauren was relieved to find that Alex was just as easy to talk to as Christian. They spent most of their time in the Art of the Americas section, which turned out to be Alex’s favorite as well as Lauren’s.

  “I can’t get into paintings,” he admitted, as they circled a ten-foot totem pole from Alaska. “But I really like masks and weapons and all that Aztec and Inca stuff.”

  “Pre-Columbian art,” Lauren said, leading him to two of the things she liked best in the whole museum: a Peruvian mini warrior, ornately carved and painted, crouched in the attack position, like some sort of vengeful elf, and a fragment of a stone carving representing the head of a god.

  “It says the god is from Guatemala—from the fifth century! I can’t believe it’s so old,” Lauren marveled.

  “It’s pretty weird-looking.” Alex nodded, peering into the glass case. Lauren prickled with embarrassment. Maybe she shouldn’t have raved about it so much. It was just an old piece of stone found in a jungle. She could just hear Ashley yawning. But so what? Girls like Ashley were lame. Besides, if Alex had been interested in a girl like Ashley, he would be dating one of the Ashleys, but he hadn’t. He had asked her out.

  But then . . . maybe he thought she was an Ashley because of the way she looked now. The old Lauren certainly wouldn’t have attracted two lacrosse players to her side. Or would she have? Maybe it was just about confid
ence.

  “We can go look at something else, if you want,” Lauren said, backing away from the display.

  Alex turned to look at her, his dark eyes intent and serious. “It’s great that you’re interested in, you know, stuff,” he said. “Lots of girls can be so . . . I dunno. They’re not like you. Most of them just giggle and want to hold hands.”

  Lauren returned his smile. She was right. He was interested in her—the real her—not the Ashley exterior. And the thought of holding hands with Alex made her feel weak at the knees. Literally. She might fall over at any second. She completely forgot about Christian. It was all about Alex right now.

  “It’s cool you know so much about things,” he continued.

  “Well, I don’t know that much,” she faltered. They were walking into the next room, but her eyes couldn’t focus on anything. “And I like silly things as well.”

  “Yeah?” Alex asked, his voice playful.

  “Yeah, like that new movie about those killer robots.”

  His face immediately lit up. “That movie’s going to be awesome. Wanna go see it next week?”

  “Sure!” Lauren nodded, completely forgetting that she had agreed to see the same movie with Christian just a few hours ago. She supposed she could live with seeing it twice.

  She felt like skipping around the room. Christian and Alex were so nice! And they both wanted to see her again. . . .

  One of these days she would have to decide which one she liked better. But not today, and not anytime soon.

  16

  LIGHTS. CAMERA. ASHLEYS!

  “HURRY! YOU’RE THE LAST ONE to arrive!” Ashley pulled A. A. onto the overstuffed couch, where Lauren and Lili were already stationed, each girl balancing a small plate of goodies on her lap.

  The brocade curtains were drawn in the Spencers’ den, and the leather-covered coffee table was covered with white platters of pot stickers, mini burritos, and spring rolls, all made by the live-in gourmet chef. Ashley grabbed the remote, dinging it against the carafe of freshly squeezed lemonade. “The show’s about to start.”

  The television set, a giant flat-screen above the fireplace, was tuned to the Sugar channel. The first episode of Preteen Queen was about to be broadcast, and Ashley couldn’t wait. She’d had flyers made and distributed to every girl at Miss Gamble’s, to make sure nobody missed the show. San Francisco would be the first city shown, the producers had decided. There would be no more taping until the winners of the regional rounds went to New York. Their lives as reality-show vixens were over, but the fame was just about to begin.

  Ashley wasn’t the only one excited about this. As soon as the theme music began—“Royals” by Lorde—they all started squealing.

  Omigod! There they were on the bench outside school, all looking supercute in their uniforms and Louboutin Mary Janes. The Ashleys were on national television! Her smile faded when she saw the others’ dance-team rehearsal, but returned when she watched the next clip—there they were in Manners & Morals, explaining the rules of the Friendship Ceremony to all the nonfamous losers in their class!

  It took about five seconds for excitement to turn into joy to turn into . . . well, disappointment. Was this what they really looked like? Ashley screwed up her face. She looked completely washed out, she decided. She was way too pale, almost sickly. She’d definitely have to ask for a darker spray tan next time.

  But at least she didn’t come over all whiny backstabber like Lili, who visibly squirmed when the producers asked her why she kept the dance-team performance a secret from Ashley.

  “It wasn’t like that!” Lili complained, pointing accusingly at the screen. “I mean—you were busy!”

  Ashley didn’t say anything, even though she was smirking inside. She’d played the whole thing expertly and had come out smelling like a rose—especially when she hugged the girls after they’d betrayed her.

  And at least she had screen time, unlike Lauren. For half of the discussion on the bench scene, Lauren was cut out of the frame altogether. The big close-up was of A. A. protesting too much that she hadn’t kissed dozens of boys. Then the screen showed the actual Friendship Ceremony.

  “My singing voice is awful!” Lauren giggled. “I’m totally off-key!” Ashley had no idea why Lauren would think that was funny. But it was almost as if Lauren didn’t care what she looked or sounded like on television.

  “They keep zooming in on the bruise on my neck,” complained Lili. “That’s from playing the violin—it’s not a hickey!”

  “At least you don’t look like a ditz,” A. A. moaned. It was true: The way the show had been edited, A. A. was always staring into space, tapping her desk with a pencil, or examining her fingernails. And whenever she was shown applying lip gloss, the producers had added kissing noises on the soundtrack, reminding all the viewers that she was the one who liked to make out.

  Ashley loved it. She couldn’t wait for the last ten minutes of the show. She was the only one in this room who knew what was coming.

  Then the screen changed, and Lili gasped. “Isn’t that . . . isn’t that the lacrosse party?” she asked, confused. “I recognize the spiral staircase! But how did they . . .”

  The caption across the bottom of the screen flashed the words HIDDEN CAMERA FOOTAGE. The picture was jumpy and blurry, clearly taken with a small video camera. A Steadicam, maybe. Something hidden in a backpack, most likely.

  “Oh God!” Lauren laughed as she nearly dropped her plate. “That’s me standing in the corner by myself!”

  The shot showed Lauren all alone, sipping her drink and gazing wistfully around the room. On the show’s soundtrack, a solo violin played a mocking lament.

  “Now where were the cameras when I was hanging out with those two guys?” she asked.

  Ashley curled her lip. Lauren had told them she had met not just one, but two cute lacrosse players at the party, and had gone on dates with both of them last week. Not that any of them believed her, even though it was all over AshleyRank as well. Please. Lauren Page, man-killer? Ashley didn’t think so. Lauren was definitely behind the blog, for sure. Besides, the cameras didn’t lie. There she was looking like a huge loser as always.

  “Oh well,” Lauren said. “At least this way they won’t know I’m dating both of them.”

  This girl really has an overactive imagination, Ashley thought. “Oh, there’s me and Tri!” she said triumphantly. They were laughing and smiling at each other, and at one point Tri reached for Ashley’s hand. How lucky that she was the only one with a boyfriend!

  Onscreen the footage showed a closet door opening, and then A. A. stumbling out, followed by a redheaded guy with a sheepish look on his face.

  “Who’s that?!” Ashley shrieked. “A. A., you slut!”

  “It’s no one!” A. A. protested, looking pale. “I told you, I met some guy—a friend of Tri’s—at the party. We hung out in the closet but nothing happened—I can’t believe they’re showing this part. We were only in there for a couple of minutes, and all we did was talk! But this makes me look so bad!”

  Lauren and Lili consoled A. A., and Ashley made sympathetic noises as she snuggled into her cushion. A. A. was another one in dreamland. As if any girl would go into a closet with a guy just “to talk.” Get serious! This was the best TV show she’d ever seen in her life. She hadn’t had so much fun since Aria was loaded in a box with Garret’s corpse on Pretty Little Liars.

  “Omigod!” Now Lili was enraged. “They di’in’t!”

  The grainy footage showed Max pulling away from Lili in the butler’s pantry. The dialogue was muffled, so the producers had helpfully provided the text at the bottom of the screen. “It’s just weird.” “What’s weird?” “I’ll see you around, okay?” Then Max abruptly left the pantry, walking away as fast as he could. The camera zoomed in on Lili looking shell-shocked, her eyes glistening with tears.

  “God, Lil!” shrieked Ashley. “You never told us you cried!”

  “Shut up!” Lili yelled, her chee
ks aflame as she tried to smother Ashley with a tasseled pillow.

  The other day Lili had finally confessed what happened the night of the party, and the Ashleys had a three-way conference call as Lili gave them the blow-by-blow of Max’s mystifying hot-and-cold actions. Ashley was truly sympathetic but gratified that she was so lucky to have Tri, who would never do a thing like kiss her and then dump her all in the same second. She conveniently forgot about the fact that Tri had yet to express any interest in kissing her in the first place.

  The hour-long show whizzed by, in Ashley’s opinion, although A. A. was going on about it being the worst hour of her life. Ashley wished it was longer. Where was Tri? She couldn’t believe he was missing her triumph. He said he was going to try and make it, even though he had something boring and unimportant to do, like homework.

  “Okay, is everyone ready to vote?” Ashley asked, picking up her phone, ready to dial. “Only one of us can go through to the next round.”

  All the girls grabbed their phones, dialing madly. Ashley was glad she’d told the house staff to watch on the kitchen television. They’d promised to vote for her many times. Of course, the other girls probably did the same with their families’ employees, but Ashley was counting on her household’s many phone lines to tip the scales in her favor. Not that she was too worried. She definitely came across as the most likeable one.

  “Hey—sorry I’m so late.” The door creaked open, and Tri poked his head in.

  About time! Ashley snorted. “Get your phone out!” she ordered. She’d have to be mad at him another time. Right now she needed him to cast a vote. Make that a hundred votes. “You have to keep dialing this number. I need you to vote as many times as possible.”

  “What am I voting for?” Tri sat at the end of the sofa, scratching his head.