her eyes. “I’m having a bad visual right now.”
“What’s VPLs?” I ventured.
“Visible panty lines,” Cherise explained. “Sorry. This is just a game we play on the first week of school. Kellie made it up in fifth grade. It’s kind of like a scavenger hunt, but it’s all about the teachers.”
Then again, maybe they were just as catty.
“I got this one,” Kellie said.
“Who?” Nikki demanded.
“Ms. McDevitt.”
“The Middle School English teacher?” Cherise said. “That doesn’t count.”
“It counts.” Kellie waved her fork carelessly around the room. “We’re not limited to Upper School. I made up the rules and nowhere does it say we have to stay with Upper School.”
Cherise looked skeptical as she plunged her teeth into her panini.
“Not only that,” Kellie continued, “but she was wearing white pants. Hello, Labor Day is over, lady. Major fashion fail.”
“I so got the next one,” Nikki said. “Check this: Mr. Page saying ‘um’ fifteen consecutive times.” She picked up her phone and played back the recording.
“That’s classic,” Cherise said. “Anyone catch a bow tie?”
“Over there,” I said, jumping in excitedly, pointing to a white-haired teacher by the condiments bar.
“Oh my God, Mr. Sinclair. Good eye! I can’t believe you got that right out of the gate,” Kellie exclaimed.
I saw, when she fixed her eyes on me, that she had a magnetic draw about her. It wasn’t just her prettiness—it was an aura of calm and control. The girl had never had an embarrassing moment in her life, I was sure of it. She’d probably never been new anywhere, either. She was pure legacy.
“An L.L. Bean bag with sailboats,” Nikki said.
“Two tables over,” I said. “The woman with the short hair. It’s by her feet.”
“So cliché,” Nikki said. “Does she drive a Civic, too?”
My pride swelled. Hell, yeah. I could play this game, and it was fun. I felt myself relaxing into my seat.
“You’re on a roll, Willa,” Cherise said. “Okay, how about Mr. Wolf’s chalk-smeared sweater?”
I scanned the room, but then realized I had no idea who I was looking for.
“He’s not in here right now. You’d know it if you saw it. The chalk is kind of overwhelming,” Kellie said.
“I’ll keep an eye out for it,” I said. “I still haven’t met that many people yet, to tell you the truth.”
“That’s not what we heard,” Nikki said, giving Kellie a look.
I felt stress—or maybe that was just pork—form a tight ball in my stomach.
What had they heard? Were people talking about me?
Kellie leaned in on her slim forearms and I could smell her perfume. It was delicate and floral and probably called Money. “We heard you met Aidan Murphy and he was macking on you in the parking lot.”
I smiled inadvertently. “I don’t know if it was macking . Just talking, really.”
I wasn’t sure how much I should reveal, and I didn’t want them to think that I had a crush on him or something. As far as I could tell, having a crush on Aidan Murphy was like rooting for the Yankees: an obvious and unimaginative choice. And like Cherise had said, he was all about flirting, so I shouldn’t feel special.
Kellie looked at me with interest. “Do you have a boyfriend in Colorado or something?”
“No,” I said.
“So no guys there?” Nikki asked, tapping her nails on her Coke Zero can.
I felt their sudden interest trained on me. “There were a few cute ones, but I didn’t have much time to get to know anyone.”
Kellie, who seemed to be the ringleader, pressed on. “Were you in Aspen? My parents have a condo there and the guys are smokin’.”
All the girls were looking at me. “No, Castle Pines.”
“Never heard of that,” Kellie murmured. “What league were you in?”
“League?” I put my fork down. What was she talking about?
“Like, sports?” Cherise said. “Did you play lacrosse or field hockey or anything against other private schools? My