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sex over the summer, but she just wasn’t ready. She wasn’t entirely sure why, except that she’d never had sex with any-body before, and she really wasn’t sure if Jeremiah was the right person to do it with first.
    Of course, indecision about losing her virginity wasn’t the kind of thing a girl like Brett ever admitted out loud. She’d told Callie she’d lost it ages ago to a Swiss boy named Gunther she’d met on a family skiing trip to Gstaad, even though really she’d hardly even let him feel her up. Brett had cultivated an image at Waverly: tough, experienced, sophisticated, and a little bitchy. Her mom was the opposite—helpless, naive, childish—and Brett didn’t want to be like that.
    Callie extended her long, perfectly smooth legs. “I really need a shower.” She yawned, stood up, and slipped on a pair of rubbery clogs. “You want to go to dinner when I get back?”
    Brett shrugged. “I don’t know. I have to look over some prefect stuff for tomorrow. There’s some new adviser, so I need to be prepared and stuff.” Brett had been elected junior prefect last year, which meant she would lead roll call and act as junior leader of DC, or Disciplinary Committee. It was a huge popularity nod—everyone in your class had to vote you into the position. “But I guess I could skip it. And we have the party tonight, too… . ”
    “Whatever.” Callie waved her towel and turned for the door.
    Brett flopped onto her bed and stared out the window. The view of the river, which usually calmed her down like a shot of aged whiskey, now seemed suffocating. She’d imagined her first meeting with Callie after the long summer would be different. She hadn’t expected them to talk about Tinsley right away, and she’d assumed Callie would behave like she used to—throwing herself on Brett’s bed, opening a bag of Pirate’s Booty for them to share, and gossiping about all the wild, romantic, risqué stuff they’d done all summer. They’d laugh, have some gin and tonics, and go to dinner, just like last year.
    She flipped open her cell phone and quickly hit the shortcut key to call her sister, Brianna, who lived in New York and worked as a fashion editor at
Elle
magazine. Bree had been through the Waverly mill six years before and could usually talk Brett out of any funk. Unfortunately, Bree’s phone went straight to voice mail.
    “Hey, it’s me,” Brett rambled when she heard the beep. “I feel … I don’t know. A mess. Call me or something.”
    She hung up and flopped back on the bed. As soon as she did, her cell phone bleated in her bag. Thinking it was Bree, she opened it up, but she was wrong.
    “Hello, Jeremiah,” she sighed, pressing the phone to her ear. “How are you?”
    “Wicked awesome, now,” he breathed on the other end.
    Brett rolled her eyes. Then she pictured him spread-eagled on his St. Lucius bed, ten miles away, in a tattered varsity foot-ball jersey and boxer shorts, with his long tan arms and sexy eyes, and she felt a warm whoosh of pleasure.
    “So are we going to do this … thing?” she asked, not even bothering to shut the dorm room door. Let the nosy sophomore girls next door get an earful. Maybe they’d learn something.

    Instant Message Inbox
    HeathFerro: I got news. Talked to my older brother’s friend who works in I-banking, and he says that this place Fish Stick is the bomb in the city. Girls take it off for 99 cents!
    CallieVernon: Um, Heath? I think you got the wrong text addy. This is Callie. I don’t want to hear about strippers. Especially not as I’m about to take a shower.
    HeathFerro: You’re in the shower? Can I see? Now that you and Easy are broken up, you’re a free bird, right?
    CallieVernon: What? Who told you that?
    CallieVernon: Heath? Where are you? It’s not true!
    CallieVernon: Hello??

    Instant Message Inbox
    BennyCunningham: So the big question going around is, you take a ride on the pony yet?
    CallieVernon: Pony?
    BennyCunningham: It’s the