teamwork.” Heath pounded the table with his fist. “We all go our separate ways. Someone take the library, Maxwell Hall, the art studios, Lasell, everything. Leave no stone unturned. No door or trapdoor unopened!” It was like he thought he was Professor Xavier making a speech to inspire all the X-Men before going into battle.
“What if it’s locked?” Brandon asked.
“What?”
“What if the unopened door is locked? Then what?”
Heath looked at his roommate as if he were a five-year-old who had just asked the stupidest question he’d ever heard. “Then we make like
Oceans 11
and pick it.”
And since all the girls were gone, they’d have to shoplift some hairpins.
Email Inbox
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Date: Saturday, October 5, 1:12 p.m.
Subject: Picnics
Denny,
I miss you. Have no fear, the mighty Heath Ferro has a plan. We’re going to try and sneak in—we can have our dinner date in your room instead of the woods.
Luv,
E
Instant Message Inbox
CallieVernon: Hey, Walsh. Please thank the big guy for a lovely dinner last night.
EasyWalsh: He’d probably dig it if you sent him an email yourself—you know he’s in love with you.
CallieVernon: Ha ha ha … Yeah, it was surprisingly fun. J.L. Walsh is like a fine wine—he gets better with age.
EasyWalsh: Depends on your definition of better. At least no food was thrown.
CallieVernon: You sneaking in tonight with the rest of the guys? I hear there’s a secret plan.
EasyWalsh: Ferro is acting as our fearless leader, so you know we’re in good hands.
CallieVernon: As long as you make it… we girls are all dressing up, hoping some sexy knights in shining armor will break down the doors… .
EasyWalsh: Um, yeah. We’ll try.
15
A WAVERLY OWL KNOWS WHO HER DORMMATES ARE—IN CASE IT COMES IN HANDY .
After delivering gourmet sandwiches for lunch (turkey and Havarti on croissants, portobello and goat cheese on flat bread), dining services must have needed an easy one since they announced that for dinner, they would be ordering a giant stack of pizza boxes. No one seemed to mind. In fact, pizza was Tinsley’s favorite meal before a big night of drinking. Nothing like carbs and cheese to prep the stomach for alcohol.
All afternoon, the girls had left the doors to their rooms—and closets—open, and everyone roamed around the floors, pawing through racks of clothes that weren’t even their size, just in case they saw something spectacular. Tinsley had been through Benny and Sage and Celine’s closets, and she knew Callie’s like the back of her hand, but everything seemed boring. Dry. Conventional. Unsurprising. Her wardrobe had been picked clean by dozens of hands. She didn’t mind sharing, as long as she got outfits as good as she gave.
Brett came storming into the room, an emerald green chiffon garment hanging over her arm. She didn’t even glance at Tinsley as she tossed the dress onto her bed. She clicked on her Harmon Kardon stereo, flooding the room with the sound of Fleetwood Mac. Could Brett be any lamer? Who liked seventies music besides the people who were actually alive in the seventies?
With a glare at Brett that was meant to be withering, Tinsley left the room, slamming the door behind her.
She sighed. Five-thirty—the boys, if they managed to find a way in, would be here in a couple of hours. She might as well check on the beer—the kegs probably needed new ice. Never before had the ice machine in Dumbarton’s basement seemed so essential.
Kara’s door was the only closed one on the whole floor. Tinsley knocked briefly before twisting the knob. Kara was sitting at her desk, books open in front of her. “Hello?” Tinsley called out.
Kara spun around in her chair. “Oh … hey.” She didn’t look happy that Tinsley was there.
Please
. Tinsley was doing this nobody girl a fucking favor, allowing her to store the party refreshments in her room. No one even knew who she was before today. She could
“What if it’s locked?” Brandon asked.
“What?”
“What if the unopened door is locked? Then what?”
Heath looked at his roommate as if he were a five-year-old who had just asked the stupidest question he’d ever heard. “Then we make like
Oceans 11
and pick it.”
And since all the girls were gone, they’d have to shoplift some hairpins.
Email Inbox
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Date: Saturday, October 5, 1:12 p.m.
Subject: Picnics
Denny,
I miss you. Have no fear, the mighty Heath Ferro has a plan. We’re going to try and sneak in—we can have our dinner date in your room instead of the woods.
Luv,
E
Instant Message Inbox
CallieVernon: Hey, Walsh. Please thank the big guy for a lovely dinner last night.
EasyWalsh: He’d probably dig it if you sent him an email yourself—you know he’s in love with you.
CallieVernon: Ha ha ha … Yeah, it was surprisingly fun. J.L. Walsh is like a fine wine—he gets better with age.
EasyWalsh: Depends on your definition of better. At least no food was thrown.
CallieVernon: You sneaking in tonight with the rest of the guys? I hear there’s a secret plan.
EasyWalsh: Ferro is acting as our fearless leader, so you know we’re in good hands.
CallieVernon: As long as you make it… we girls are all dressing up, hoping some sexy knights in shining armor will break down the doors… .
EasyWalsh: Um, yeah. We’ll try.
15
A WAVERLY OWL KNOWS WHO HER DORMMATES ARE—IN CASE IT COMES IN HANDY .
After delivering gourmet sandwiches for lunch (turkey and Havarti on croissants, portobello and goat cheese on flat bread), dining services must have needed an easy one since they announced that for dinner, they would be ordering a giant stack of pizza boxes. No one seemed to mind. In fact, pizza was Tinsley’s favorite meal before a big night of drinking. Nothing like carbs and cheese to prep the stomach for alcohol.
All afternoon, the girls had left the doors to their rooms—and closets—open, and everyone roamed around the floors, pawing through racks of clothes that weren’t even their size, just in case they saw something spectacular. Tinsley had been through Benny and Sage and Celine’s closets, and she knew Callie’s like the back of her hand, but everything seemed boring. Dry. Conventional. Unsurprising. Her wardrobe had been picked clean by dozens of hands. She didn’t mind sharing, as long as she got outfits as good as she gave.
Brett came storming into the room, an emerald green chiffon garment hanging over her arm. She didn’t even glance at Tinsley as she tossed the dress onto her bed. She clicked on her Harmon Kardon stereo, flooding the room with the sound of Fleetwood Mac. Could Brett be any lamer? Who liked seventies music besides the people who were actually alive in the seventies?
With a glare at Brett that was meant to be withering, Tinsley left the room, slamming the door behind her.
She sighed. Five-thirty—the boys, if they managed to find a way in, would be here in a couple of hours. She might as well check on the beer—the kegs probably needed new ice. Never before had the ice machine in Dumbarton’s basement seemed so essential.
Kara’s door was the only closed one on the whole floor. Tinsley knocked briefly before twisting the knob. Kara was sitting at her desk, books open in front of her. “Hello?” Tinsley called out.
Kara spun around in her chair. “Oh … hey.” She didn’t look happy that Tinsley was there.
Please
. Tinsley was doing this nobody girl a fucking favor, allowing her to store the party refreshments in her room. No one even knew who she was before today. She could
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