Invitation Only (Private 2) - Page 61

“What's the prob­lem?” Noelle asked, cross­ing her legs at the knee and lean­ing for­ward like a con­cerned talk-?show host­ess. Ex­cept no talk-?show host­ess I had ev­er seen ev­er waved a glass of wine around in front of her live stu­dio au­di­ence. “Has Whit­tak­er not asked you yet? ”

“No. He hasn't. But it's not that,” I said. “I mean, I'm sure he will-”

“Wow. Look at the ego on this one,” Ki­ran said, tak­ing a sip of her wine. I chose to ig­nore the com­ment.

“It's just... I don't ex­act­ly want to go with him,” I said. “Can't any of you get me in? I could be your plus-?one,” I said, look­ing at Noelle.

In­stant­ly, she scoffed. She sat up straight and swung her thick, dark hair over her shoul­der. “You're not get­ting it, Reed. We can't even all get in with­out help.”

178

I had no re­sponse to that ex­cept to stare in­cred­ulous­ly. The Billings Girls couldn't get in with­out help? How was that even pos­si­ble? I had a hard time imag­in­ing them be­ing shut out of any­thing.

“Come on,” I said fi­nal­ly.

Noelle and Ar­iana laughed. Ki­ran picked at a cu­ti­cle, her cheeks flush­ing, while Tay­lor sim­ply stared in­to her wine­glass.

“Did you not hear me the oth­er day?This par­ty is ex­clu­sive. I'm the on­ly per­son in all of Billings who even gets a plus-?one.”

“Well, you and Cheyenne,” Tay­lor said.

“Right. Cheyenne. The D.A.R. her­self,” Noelle said. “Why do I al­ways for­get about Cheyenne?”

The oth­er girls chuck­led as if they all knew ex­act­ly why Cheyenne was so for­get­table. An­oth­er joke I hadn't been let in on. But I had to fo­cus on the aneurysm at hand.

“You're kid­ding,” I said. 'You guys can't bring dates?"

“Well, I can,” Noelle said, lean­ing back. “But I'm tak­ing Dash.”

“Dash can't get in?” I asked. He who'd read me the rules of the night? He who'd act­ed all su­pe­ri­or about the whole thing?

“Please,” Noelle said. “He's on­ly sec­ond gen­er­ation. His grand­fa­ther went to, like, P.S. 121 in the Bronx or some­thing.”

“But then he made his first mil­lion by the time he was twen­ty- two,” Ki­ran added. “Re­al es­tate.”

“It's a re­al come-?from-?noth­ing sto­ry. You should ask him to tell you some­time,” Noelle said sar­don­ical­ly.

“Who's Cheyenne tak­ing?” I asked, even though I knew there was no way in hell she'd take pity on me.

179

“Her lit­tle Boston boyfriend,” Ki­ran an­swered. “What's his name? Dork? Doof­ball?”

“Dougray,” Ar­iana an­swered, putting on an im­pe­ri­ous En­glish ac­cent.

“Well, do we know any­one else who gets a plus-?one?” I asked hope­ful­ly.

“Just Gage. And he's tak­ing Ki­ran,” Ar­iana said.

'Yeah. I got­ta be Gage Coolidge's date. So look­ing for­ward to it," Ki­ran said.

“That's what you get for be­ing a frosh,” Noelle said, sip­ping her drink. Then, off my con­fused look, she placed her hand next to her mouth and loud-?whis­pered, “First gen­er­ation. Oh! But then, I guess you are, too,” she added sweet­ly.

“Sor­ry, Reed. But there's noth­ing we can do,” Ar­iana told me.

“That's why we were try­ing to set you up with Whit,” Noelle said. “He's ba­si­cal­ly your on­ly shot.”

“Wait a minute, Ki­ran. You can't even get in? You're a su­per­mod­el,” I point­ed out.

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