It Girl | Chapter 17 of 52

Author: Cecily von Ziegesar | Submitted by: Maria Garcia | 12957 Views | Add a Review

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“You stink.”

Jenny woke with a start. Where was she? Oh, right. Waverly. In her room. “I mean seriously, you really stink. Are you drunk?” someone whispered.

Was that Callie, talking in her sleep? Jenny had heard her come in: thankfully, it had been after she’d stopped sobbing into her pillow. She’d taken her clothes off in the dark, said “nighty-night,” and snuggled under the covers.

“I’m not drunk,” another voice slurred. A guy’s voice.

“Well, you stink like vodka. Ew.”

“I love it when you say I smell,” the guy said.

“Shh. Pardee will hear.”

Jenny inched further beneath her covers. The voice sounded vaguely familiar. And whoever it was did stink—Jenny could smell something vaguely alcoholic, even though the windows were wide open and the cool night breeze was wafting though the room.

“Well, it would be nice, Easy, if you didn’t stink, ’cause then I wouldn’t have to taste it in your mouth.”


Jenny’s stomach dropped. How many Easys went to this school?

“You sure nobody’s here?” he asked.

“Do you see anybody here?” Callie hissed.

Jenny stayed curled in a ball. Callie had seen her. She’d even said good night to her! Jenny wanted to leave them alone, but getting up and making noise right now would be very uncool. And what if Easy saw her? She was sure her crush on him would shine right through her, like her face was a mesh field hockey pinnie. To think that she had developed an immediate crush on her roommate’s boyfriend! Old Jenny strikes again.

Her eyes adjusted to the dark and she peeked out from under the covers. Callie’s bed was less than four feet away. There was a flash of naked skin in the moonlight. “Condom,” Jenny head Callie whisper.

A pause. Then Easy’s voice. “Serious? Where?”

“Top drawer.”

Jenny heard fumbling in the dark. Then a scuffling of covers, and thump! Easy was halfway on the floor. He tried to get his balance but held on to the night table and ended up dragging it down with him. It made a horrible amount of noise. A box of Lifestyles Extra Lubricated condoms spilled out, along with a big bottle of Lubriderm dry skin lotion and a package of blue fine-tip Bic pens.

Jenny shot up in bed, staring at Easy’s sprawled, naked body.

“Yo,” Easy drawled, grinning up at her. “I know you.”

“Eep!” Jenny slunk back under the covers.

“Callie, you said nobody was here,” Easy whispered loudly.

Callie kicked the mattress angrily. “This is ridiculous,” she sighed, and got out of bed. Jenny peeked out from under the covers and saw the outline of Callie’s lithe body. She wore a pink bra with a pointy-toothed Lacoste alligator emblazoned on the strap. Where was Brett, anyway? Callie glanced over at the lump that was Jenny under the blankets. “Sorry, Jenny.” She shrugged, then stomped over Easy, stepping on his hand as she headed for the door.

“Oww!” He cried out in pain. “Where are you going?”

“Bathroom.” Callie flung the door open, and the room grew bright with fluorescent hallway light. Jenny buried herself deeper under the covers, mortified. She’s leaving us alone? she wondered, horrified.

She heard Easy sit up, crack his neck, then sniff. “So, is Jenny short for Jennifer?”

“Well, yeah,” Jenny croaked, still huddled under the covers.

“Didn’t mean to make you so uncomfortable, Jenny,” he continued.

“Not a problem,” she murmured into her pillow. It smelled dusty and warm, like her Upper West Side home. She was glad she’d brought it, but it suddenly made her feel so homesick that she nearly burst into tears.

“You can stop hiding. I’m decent.”

Jenny peeped over the blanket with one eye. Easy had put his underwear back on, but that was all. His stomach was flat and muscular. And his boxers had a sailboat pattern she remembered from the J.Crew catalog. She wrenched her eyes away.

It was stiflingly hot under the covers. She sat up a bit, hoping that Callie would come back any second and take Easy someplace else so that he wouldn’t have time to take in Jenny’s swollen eyes and bed-head. She couldn’t even imagine what she must look like right now, especially compared to Callie.

But apparently Easy didn’t mind. He got off the floor and sat down on the edge of Jenny’s bed. If she hadn’t been completely stunned, she might have made room. But instead she stayed still. He was pressed right up against her.

“I was wondering when I’d get to meet you properly,” he mumbled, so quietly that Jenny could barely hear.

“What?” Jenny asked, even though she’d heard him fine.

“Nothing.” Easy looked up. “Oh. The Seven Sisters.”


“The constellation.” Easy pointed to the crusty old glow-inthe-dark stars someone had stuck to the ceiling years ago. “Although to the naked eye there are only six stars easily visible.”

“Huh.” Jenny didn’t know how to respond—not only to what Easy had just said but to this situation, period. Her dream crush was sitting on her bed. Old Jenny was totally horrified. New Jenny was practically quivering. Blended together, both Jennys were immobile and tongue-tied.

She looked at the outline of Easy’s long, athletic-looking feet. His second toes were longer than his first. What was that a sign of again? Wait. Hello? Was that his hand on her back?

Okay. This was all wrong. Where was Callie, anyway? This was very wrong. Jenny knew she should swat him away. But she just . . . couldn’t.

“Uh, do you know a lot about constellations?” she asked instead.

Easy moved his hand slightly, his thumb rubbing the base of her spine. Wrong, wrong, wrong! “There’s not much else to do in Lexington at night.” He sighed. “Unless you want to climb up the water tower or throw shit onto the train tracks.”

“I’m from New York,” Jenny whispered, biting a tendril of her hair to keep her teeth from rattling with nervousness. “Although you probably know that already.”


“You know,” she shifted, her cheeks growing hot. It was horrifying to think that he’s already heard things—slutty things— about her.

“Nope. I don’t. Are you famous?”

“I . . .” She cleared her throat. How could Yvonne know the gossip about her and not this beautiful boy? “No. I guess not.”

“Well, that’s too bad.” Easy smiled. “And here I thought I was in the presence of a celebrity.”

Jenny felt his hand on the small of her back again. It felt warm through the blanket.

“Jesus Christ!”

Jenny and Easy turned around quickly. Mr. Pardee. The dorm mistress’s husband, who also happened to be Waverly’s most assholish French teacher, had pushed the door open all the way. Jenny saw a note scrawled on their white board: Studying in Benny’s room. –Brett Mr. Pardee was dressed in a hooded Waverly football sweatshirt and a pair of red plaid pajama pants. His shaggy medium brown hair stood up in Brillo clumps on his head, and his tiny silver stud earring glinted in the harsh light of the hall.

Easy quickly jumped off Jenny’s bed, pulled on his jeans, and grabbed his shirt.

“Dude.” He strode right up to Mr. Pardee. “I was never here.”

“You weren’t . . . what?” Mr. Pardee said, blinking furiously.

“You don’t see me.”

“Easy, I do see you.” Pardee sounded as if he were trying to convince himself. “You’ve used this line on me before.”

“Nope,” Easy replied. “I was never here.” He dashed into the hall.

“Wait—where are you going?” Mr. Pardee shouted. But it was too late. He shook his head and turned back to Jenny. Not knowing exactly what to do, she hadn’t moved. Mr. Pardee might have been the dorm mistress’s husband, but Jenny had heard he was also a total druggie. Supposedly, he only graded the French exams after smoking a spliff or two.

Maybe he was too wasted right now to even know what was going on?

“That wasn’t cool.” Mr. Pardee burped slightly. “No guys in the room except during visiting hour.”

“I know, but—” Jenny sputtered.

“Man.” Mr. Pardee was glaring at the condoms on the floor. No one had bothered to pick them up yet. “This doesn’t look good.”

“What’s going on?” Callie stood in the doorway, right behind him.

“I’m gonna have to report this,” the teacher announced through a stoned yawn. “I mean, Angelica will have to—”

“No, wait!” Jenny pleaded. She couldn’t possibly be in trouble on the first day of school.

“Hello?” Callie repeated. “What’s going on?” Jenny noticed Mr. Pardee eyeing the sliver of skin between Callie’s low-hanging American Apparel shorts and her mesh Only Hearts camisole. The alligator on her bra peeked through its tiny holes.

“Easy was in here,” he stated matter-of-factly.

“Easy?!” Callie replied in a shocked tone, as if Mr. Pardee had said, I saw monkeys drinking beer!

“Where were you?” Pardee asked.

Callie scowled and rolled her eyes. “I was in the library. I’m just getting back.”

Jenny stared at her incredulously. Pardee seemed to buy this story, even though it was the middle of the night and Callie was hardly wearing any clothes, no shoes, and didn’t have a back-pack or any books on her.

“So what was Easy doing here?” Callie glared at Jenny as if to say, Don’t fuck this up.

Mr. Pardee raised an eyebrow. “Well?”

A suspicious, hurt look clouded Callie’s face. It was an acting job worthy of an Oscar. “Was something . . . going on?”

Mr. Pardee shuffled his feet. “They were in bed together.”

“But we weren’t doing anything!” Jenny defended.

“Then why does it look like a Costco-size box of condoms exploded in here?” Mr. Pardee demanded.

Callie rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe it. You little bitch!” she shouted at Jenny, yanking up her shirt in frustration to expose her stomach. Mr. Pardee stared hungrily at her field hockey–toned midriff. Callie wiggled her eyebrows at Jenny. Keep going, she mouthed.

Jenny’s eyes widened. She wasn’t going to let Callie make her take blame for this!

“Mr. Pardee, this is a big misunderstanding,” Jenny pleaded, not even caring that the tone of her voice was getting squeaky. “I really wasn’t doing anything!”

But Mr. Pardee shrugged. “We’ll find out in DC.”

“What?” Jenny said.

“Disciplinary Committee, whore-bag,” Callie spat.

“Callie, enough!” Mr. Pardee commanded. “Jenny, do you know who your adviser is?”

“It’s, um, Mr. Dalton?” That was what the welcome-to-Waverly letter addressed to Mister Jennifer Humphrey had said, anyway.

“Right. He’s new. Okay. You’ll report to Stansfield Hall to Mr. Dalton’s office at nine-thirty tomorrow. I’m not sure which room he’s in, but check the map on the first floor. He’ll evaluate your situation before it gets kicked up to DC.” He fiddled with his earring. “Got that? Good. I have to go find Easy now. . . .”

When she was sure he was gone, Callie shut the door and let out a huge sigh. “Oh my God. So close.”

Whore-bag?” Jenny’s voice trembled.

“Sorry about that,” Callie sighed, sitting on her bed and staring at Jenny with her enormous hazel eyes. “I had to make sure Mr. Pardee believed I was pissed. . . .”

“Well, he believed it all right.”

Callie shrugged. “It’s not a big deal.”

Jenny scrunched up her face. “Not a big deal? I have to go in front of . . . a committee! What happens there, anyway?”

Callie leaned over and picked up one of the wrapped condoms. “You’re new, you’re a girl, and I heard you’re smart. They’ll go easy on you.” She rubbed the square packet between her fingers. “Maybe you could use your Raves connections.”

“What are you talking about?” Was Callie being sarcastic? Jenny had never even told Callie about the Raves. And what would the Disciplinary Committee make her do? Snorkel for trash in the Hudson? What if it went on her permanent record?

“Look,” Callie began. “Brett’s on the committee. She’ll make sure you get off. If I’d gotten caught with Easy, they would’ve kicked me out. I’ve already been caught doing stuff here.”

“Oh?” Jenny said curiously.

“Yeah, I already have, like, two strikes against me. Three and you’re out.”

“Oh.” Jenny felt somewhat relieved. So this was her first strike. That wasn’t so bad.

“It would really suck if I got expelled.” Callie tore open the condom with her fingernail. “My parents would make me to go public school in Atlanta. Kids sneak guns and cans of Miller Lite past the metal detectors there. And everyone’s into NASCAR. Even the girls!” She stared down at Jenny. “Could you imagine me at NASCAR?”

Callie was way too beautiful to go to public school. Then Jenny stopped herself, remembering she wasn’t supposed to be all suck-uppy with an older girl the way Old Jenny had been with Serena van der Woodsen back at Constance. She closed her eyes and willed herself to stop. New Jenny, New Jenny, New Jenny.

Callie pulled out the yellowish condom and inserted her pointer finger into its open end. “I have to make it through this year without getting busted.”

Jenny sighed resignedly. She loved everything about Waverly—the woodsiness, the New England–style brick buildings, that the teachers wore blazers to class and often had the title of doctor, even the succulent wasabi salmon that everybody shunned. She wanted to row on the river and go to the Spring Fling and meet boys from other prep schools and return to Manhattan triumphant, because she was now a boarding school girl. She didn’t want it fucked up like this right off the bat, and yet here she was again, the most talked about girl on campus and already in trouble before classes had even started.

Callie twirled the condom around on her finger. “Everything will be fine,” she assured Jenny. “Seriously. They’ll give you restricted study. Or no visitation. But Brett’s on DC.” She smiled sweetly as if to say, I’ll be your best friend forever and ever if you help me out.

“I just don’t know.” Jenny wrung her hands in her lap. As much as she wanted to be friends with Callie, she didn’t want to be in trouble. Not at all. “I’ll have to think about it.”

“I totally understand! Take your time! Think about it! But you aren’t going to get in trouble. It’s really, really, really not a big deal.”

“Yeah, but . . .” Jenny bit her lip. “I don’t know. . . .”

Callie sprang off her bed, darted to her closet, and opened up the door. “And here—for your meeting with your adviser tomorrow, you’ll want to look as professional as possible. You want to borrow something of mine? Seriously. Anything.” She ran her hand down the rack of gorgeous, perfectly pressed designer clothes.

“Really?” Jenny stood up and peeked into Callie’s closet with her. The weight of the situation slowly began to sink in. Would Callie have offered up anything in her closet before Mr. Pardee had caught Easy in the room? No way. Jenny felt a strange, heady rush of power, a rush so intense it kind of freaked her out.

“Seriously. Anything I can do. I’ll totally make this the best year of your life,” Callie offered enthusiastically.

Jenny pulled a sleek black DKNY dress from off its white satin hanger and held it up to herself. The best year of her life? She could really use a year like that. . . .


HeathFerro: So were they really having sex?? Could u hear them thru the walls?

EmilyJenkins: It was so LOUD I had to put my sound machine on city traffic to block out the noise!

HeathFerro: Were they knocking against the wall?

EmilyJenkins: Totally. I got negative sleep.

HeathFerro: Nice.


SageFrancis: Did u know some freshman girls are drawing ponies on their marker boards? They don’t even know H. They just think it’s the cool thing 2 do!

AlisonQuentin: H is running out of options. . . . He’ll probably move on 2 freshmen next. . . .

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user comment image
Great book, nicely written and thank you BooksVooks for uploading

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