The Dolls(21)

“Yoo-hoo, Eveny!” she says, waving at me pleasantly. “Welcome!”

I wave back to Chloe vaguely as I realize that no one seems to be paying any attention to Mrs. Shriver. A cluster of skater-looking guys in the back of the room have pushed their desks together and are playing games on their iPhones. I recognize Arelia and Margaux sitting just behind Peregrine and Chloe, dressed in matching leopard-print cardigans and sky-high heels. There are a few guys wearing purple and gold letter jackets near the center of the room and three cheerleaders who, even in their short-skirted uniforms, look frumpy compared to the Dolls.

I glance down and realize suddenly that Peregrine’s big, studded, designer tote, which is lying half open on the floor beside her desk, appears to be moving. I let out a strangled gasp as her snake pokes its head out and blinks its beady eyes at me. Mrs. Shriver’s monotone monologue about Daisy Buchanan and Nick Carraway screeches to a halt.

“Is there a problem, Ms. Cheval?” Mrs. Shriver asks.

“Uh, no.” I’m pretty sure I’ve now turned as red as my skirt. “Sorry.”

“Oh, relax, Eveny,” Peregrine says in a bored voice, examining her nails. “It’s just Audowido.” She looks up at Mrs. Shriver and says, “Don’t worry. Everything’s under control. You can resume your lecture.”

Mrs. Shriver shrugs and begins droning again. I turn to Peregrine. “You bring the snake to school?”

She looks at me blankly. “Of course.” She pauses and adds, “His name is Audowido, by the way. Addressing him simply as ‘the snake’ is so impersonal. He really dislikes it.”

“Oh,” I say helplessly.

“I accept your apology,” Peregrine says.

I spend the remainder of the class sneaking occasional glances at Audowido, who just keeps staring at me with his unblinking little eyes.


The rest of the morning goes by uneventfully—and thankfully without any other reptilian appearances. There’s no one I know in my fourth-period economics class, so when the bell rings and everyone begins flowing toward the cafeteria, I let myself get swept up by the current. The whole way there, I’m hoping I won’t have to eat alone.

It’s Liv I want to run into, but I see Peregrine and Chloe first, mostly because they’re impossible to miss. Not only are they undoubtedly the most gorgeous girls in school, but they’re being trailed by a crowd of adoring-looking guys as they sweep into the cafeteria in a cloud of expensive perfume.

“Eveny!” Peregrine exclaims, whisking over to where I’m standing in the caf line, trying to decide between the fried chicken and the gumbo. “What on earth are you doing?”

The cafeteria seems to grind to a halt. Everyone is staring at us, and I can hear a few whispered voices asking who I am and what I’m doing talking with the Dolls.

“Getting ready to order lunch?” I venture.

Both girls laugh like I’ve said something hilarious. “Oh, nonsense, Eveny,” Chloe says. “You’ll eat with us in the Hickories, of course.”

I open my mouth to reply, but Peregrine beats me to it. “Seating in the Hickories is by invitation only,” she says. “And we have a very exclusive list. Obviously you’ll want to join us.”

It’s admittedly nice to have someone asking me to hang out with them, but not for the wrong reasons. The last thing I need is their pity. “Look, just because your moms knew my mom doesn’t mean you have to invite me to eat with you,” I say stiffly. “I’m fine on my own.”

“Oh yes, you look like you’re already an enormous social success.” She gazes around pointedly to underscore the fact that I’m all by myself. “Well?” she prompts. “Are you coming, or are you expecting an engraved invitation?”

“Fine. I’ll come find you after I order,” I mutter.

“Eveny,” Chloe says slowly, looking at me like I’m a mental patient, “we don’t order our food here. Our lunch is catered. Come on.”

Confused, I follow them up the grassy knoll behind the school, where I spot Arelia and Margaux spreading out a huge blanket in the shade of an enormous, swooping hickory tree. The grassy patch is surrounded by a dozen smaller hickories, all dripping with sun-dappled Spanish moss. I notice Pascal lounging against one and Justin standing beneath another. He gazes adoringly at Chloe as we approach. “Hey, baby doll,” he drawls, stepping out to wrap his arms around her.

She kisses him chastely and steps back to Peregrine’s side.

“Gin and tonic?” Arelia asks eagerly as she smoothes a corner of the blanket. It’s cashmere, I notice. “Or would you prefer champagne today?”