The Ivies - Alexa Donne Page 0,14
but not only one. If Rebecca didn’t get in, Avery would find me out—
“Liv? Hello?”
I snap back to attention. “I don’t know what to do,” I say honestly.
“What do you mean? I’m telling you the truth now so you don’t have to spend all night looking for, well, me. And I’ll tell Avery. We’re both big girls. She’ll deal.”
Emma crosses over to her closet and starts to thumb through dress options. She selects an azure-blue wrap dress and pairs it with a bright red sweater. That’s Emma: seems sweet, but then she punches you in the face. I wish I had her confidence.
But confidence can also mean stupidity.
“You can’t tell her.” I find her eye in the mirror, make sure she sees how serious I am. “Lie and say you got deferred from Brown. She doesn’t have to know. Yet. We’ll figure something out.”
“What, you’ll lie about who got in? That’s dumb. She’ll find out eventually. Anyway, friends shouldn’t lie to each other.” She purses her lips, concentrating on tugging on a curl so it spirals gracefully down her shoulder. “Not directly, anyway. Lying by omission is one thing….”
“That’s what I mean. We just…don’t tell her for now.”
But Emma shakes her head. “No, it’s better to rip the bandage off. I’ll tell her at the party, so Avery can get drunk, put on her big-girl pants, deal, and move on. We can cry it out or some shit.”
It amazes me that Emma thinks Avery is going to cry anything out with her. This can only lead to carnage. But the most horrible part of me is glad Emma is willing to come clean, so I don’t have to. My number one goal at the party will be to confirm another Harvard acceptance to assuage Avery. My own version of lying by omission. The safe kind of lying.
I realize I’ve just done the same with Emma. She spilled her terrible secret, and I kept mine. Now to maintain the charade with Avery, for the rest of my life….
* * *
—
Emma and I arrive perfectly fashionably late to the ED day party at Whitley Hall. It’s 8:15 and music is throbbing through the double-paned windows. I know there will be a keg inside, plus a smorgasbord of liquor, even some wine for the classier among us. I am rarely classy. The administration, namely the faculty in residence and our RAs, look the other way on ED day, which is how the boys are able to hold such a barn burner on campus, on a Tuesday night no less.
On the outside, Whitley Hall is stately vintage 1850s, but inside it’s renovated. Everything works like new, particularly the heating and plumbing, essential at a school with such entitled students. Whitley is the most popular upper-level dormitory for boys. It boasts suite-style living on the upper floors and a spacious lounge and chef’s kitchen on the ground level, perfect for debauchery. We find a towering stack of pizza boxes on the generous kitchen island. I search through five boxes until I root out the pepperoni and help myself to two slices. Always start a party with a good cheese base.
Emma locates the drinks station immediately and pours us each a vodka cranberry. Coach will raise hell if she finds out I’ve broken the dry-season promise, but it’s ED day. I will, at least, leave the party early to get to bed on time. The price of rowing is you become a de facto early riser. Conditioning starts at 6:00 a.m. sharp.
“Hey, aren’t there usually five of you?” A boy wearing a sky-blue polo and self-satisfied smirk materializes in front of us. He grabs a red cup and depresses the keg handle.
“Screw you, Chase.”
“Wow, Olivia, bad news today?” he clucks. “I was joking. If you want to find the rest of the Mean Girls, they’re in the lounge.”
“And where are you going next year?” Emma chimes in, perfectly on mission. I already forgot I need to ask Rebecca Ito about Harvard. I stare at my vodka cranberry accusingly.
Chase, who I expected to squirm, grins at us instead. “Don’t worry, I’m not in your way. Was deferred at Duke, and now I can apply to Notre Dame, too. Not your kind of schools.”
Emma shoots him a middle finger and he sidles off, ogling Sierra along the way. She shouts after him to “fuck off,” then skips to my side and slips her arm under mine.
“Hey, teammate.” Sierra’s voice is now perfectly sweet. “Ready to make