“Fine,” I said. “But Occam’s Razor does not explain why a bitch in a snit fit would be the accomplice of a patriarch who thinks as much of women as he does of barbarians. I think it’s Kadie, too—and her husband, if you want to go there. She was the one who called us dykes right before she ran off.” I pointed at the wall, where the word was still visible despite Kevin’s careful scrubbing. “And here it is again. Coincidence? I think not.”
“And you’re all just going to ignore the possibility that Gehry, who not once, but twice has tried to destroy us, who has been known to send his lackeys to break into our quarters and destroy our property, is involved in this little escapade?”
“I’m going to say it’s unlikely,” Clarissa said. “He’s pretty much been a shut-in, hasn’t he?”
“The perfect cover!” Demetria paused. “Or maybe he sent his son…”
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, that guy would win Father of the Year. ‘Here, son, now I’m going to teach you the fine art of vandalism.’ Besides, I hung out with Darren this morning. He’s a nice guy.” He would not be wrecking my stuff after our dart game.
“You just want to see Gehry, Demetria!” Clarissa exclaimed. “It all makes sense now. You’ll blame him if it means you can drag him into the daylight and grill him about everything they haven’t covered on CNN.”
“What, are you sympathizing with that asshole now?” Demetria asked, turning on her.
“No, but I’m beginning to wonder if you’re happy this happened. You’ve perked right up with all this drama.”
Demetria gave her a look that said, Bitch, please. “And you don’t want to think that your future Junior League co-president is capable of destroying your stuff. Would blaming this on Kadie wreck your debutante sponsorship?”
Clarissa huffed. “That’s so unfair!”
“I’m with Amy,” Jenny said, straining to steer us back on topic. “Kadie was clearly angry at us back there on the lawn. Let’s go get her. I’m thinking full-scale interrogation. Bright lights, Scotch tape on the eyelids…She’ll cave like an undercooked soufflé.”
“Kadie wouldn’t have had time to pull this off,” Clarissa pointed out. “This kind of damage took more than a few minutes.” And more than a few paint cans.
“Well, if she didn’t act alone…” Demetria was persistent, but we all ignored her.
“And again,” Clarissa said happily, “we return to the others.”
“No,” Jenny said. “Whoever did this knows who we are. I say it’s Kadie. I say we go all Micah Price on her ass.”
“You would,” Clarissa said. “You seem to have gotten over him just fine.”
“Yeah. He was a jerk. Your point?”
“Nothing,” Clarissa said, with an expression that indicated butter would have no business melting in her mouth, as she returned to scrubbing paint off her purse. It was very clearly not nothing. And Jenny knew it.
“If you have something to say, Angel, say it.”
“Two dollars,” said Demetria and I in unison.
Clarissa looked up from her work. “It’s nothing, really. I’m just wondering if it’s the best idea in the world to rebound with a fellow knight.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Sure you don’t,” Clarissa said. “But Amy’s got a broken heart, too. You don’t see her hooking up with another Digger.”
I blushed furiously at this, but no one guessed the true reason.
“Amy’s already had her taste of society incest!” Jenny cried.
“What, so we each get one? Is that how it works?” Clarissa said. “By my count, I’m the only person here who hasn’t tried out the merchandise. Maybe my dad and Kurt Gehry were right. Rose & Grave is turning into a dating club!”
“Whose business is it who I fuck?” Demetria asked from her corner. “And, by the way, it wasn’t even sex. It was just a couple of kisses—but that’s not the point.”
“Yeah? Tell us why Odile’s not here, then,” Clarissa said. “Maybe because it would be too awkward to stay here with you.”
“I don’t know. I’m hardly her keeper.” Demetria seemed to reflect upon how this might sound. “And you aren’t Jenny’s, Clarissa. She could do a lot worse than Harun. And has,” she added under her breath.
Jenny looked appalled. “I really don’t know why you keep saying that. I’m not dating Harun.”
Clarissa threw her hands up. “Amy, you tell them. Tell them what a mess it becomes.”
Oh, it was a mess all right, but not the way Clarissa thought.
“Or doing anything else with him, for that matter,” Jenny went on, though no one seemed to be listening.
Clarissa kept pressuring me. “Tell them how you’re always fighting with George.”
“Oh, yes, do tell us everything about George,” Demetria said sarcastically. “Tell us what you did to keep your sordid little affair out of his C.B.”
“I figured he just ran out of time and Amy ended up on the cutting-room floor,” Jenny offered.
Hey, how did it get to be Bag on Amy Hour? “Guys, please,” I began.
“Yeah, guys, please,” said a voice at the door. We all looked up to see the object of our conversation standing there. “It takes two to tango. And if you wanted to know something, all you had to do was ask me.”
“George—” I started.
But he wasn’t going to listen. He crossed the threshold and walked right by me. “I was never one for secrets. It’s Amy that likes to keep them, isn’t that right?”
I didn’t respond.
“But let me tell you, Jenny, since I also have firsthand knowledge.” George crouched beside her. “Society incest is a really, really bad idea. Just keep that in mind.” And then he straightened. “They’ve called an emergency meeting to deal with the raid. All knights to the tomb. That’s what I’m really here to tell you. But if you’d prefer to discuss my sex life, God knows I don’t need to go to another one of these stupid meetings.”
And, as I stood there, basking in a supernova of mortification, the others gathered up their things and departed. It was obvious that George and I needed a moment alone.
He turned to me as soon as they were gone. “You want to tell me what I just walked in on?”
“We’re just stressed because of what happened.”
“If you ask me, this is entirely too much stress for Spring Break.”
“Well, no one asked you.”
“Why don’t you just tell them it was you and Jamie on the beach today?”
For a second, I choked. There it was, right out loud. No more innuendo from Mr. George Harrison Prescott. He’d recognized us, and he’d probably recognized what we were doing as well.
“Why don’t you tell them?” I chose the offensive. “For someone who hates keeping secrets, you’ve sure got a lot of them.”
“You still don’t get it, do you? I like you, Amy. We’re supposed to be friends. I don’t want to fight with you. I don’t want to cause you any pain. And you don’t want anyone to know how you spent the day, clearly. Understandably! So I’m not saying a word.” He shook his head. “It’s like you want me to be mean. You want that, go talk to your new boyfriend.”
Understandably? “He’s not my boyfriend, and he’s not mean.”
“He’s a jerk,” George said, incredulous. “Have you forgotten? Jeez, you do know how to pick ’em. You’d have been better off with me.” George took off down the stairs and broke into a jog to catch up to the others.
I dropped to my bunk, breathing as if George had punched me in the stomach. Everything was moving too fast. George was right. This was supposed to be my vacation, and here I was, fighting with my friends, fending off yet more attacks, and getting involved with a guy I’d made a point of avoiding for months. I should have just stayed at Eli and let Dragon’s Head finish me off.