The Dolls(22)

I’m expecting Peregrine and Chloe to laugh like this is some kind of inside joke. But Peregrine chirps, “G and T,” and Chloe says, “Same for me.”

Arelia turns to me next, looking confused. I stare right back, trying to figure out how they’re planning to drink alcohol out in the open on school property.

“Arelia?” Peregrine begins. “Aren’t you going to ask Eveny what she’d like?”

“Seriously?” Arelia says. When Peregrine nods, she turns and says in a tight voice, “Eveny, would you like a gin and tonic too?”

“Uh,” I say. Chloe nods encouragingly. “Sure, okay. Thanks.”

Arelia makes me a drink, muttering to herself, as Justin wanders over and drapes himself over Chloe’s shoulders like a scarf.

“I missed you today,” he says, nuzzling her ear.

“Honestly, Justin, I just saw you three hours ago,” Chloe replies with a roll of her eyes, but her expression is delighted.

Five minutes later, we’re all seated on the soft blanket, holding crystal tumblers full of ice, liquor, lime wedges, and what look like tiny purple verbena flowers. “Cheers to old friends returning,” Peregrine says, holding up her glass in a toast. We all raise our glasses, and everyone turns to look at me.

“And to happy reunion  s?” I say.

“Hear, hear!” Chloe says cheerfully as Justin plays with her hair. We clink glasses, and I watch as everyone takes a long sip of their drinks. I sniff mine suspiciously. Call me crazy, but it doesn’t seem like the first day at a new school is the time to start with a liquor habit.

Fortunately, no one seems to notice I’m not drinking. I watch as Chloe wriggles free of Justin to whisper something to Peregrine. Pascal leers at them while licking his lips, and Justin watches Chloe’s every movement like his life depends on it. I’m so intrigued by the fact that Margaux and Arelia are unpacking a full lunch of tea sandwiches and salads from a giant picnic basket that I don’t notice anyone else approaching the Hickories until a shadow falls over us. I look up and my heart nearly stops.

It’s Caleb Shaw, and in his Pointe Laveau uniform, with a charcoal gray hoodie and navy Chuck Taylors, he’s even more gorgeous than he was outside the library.

“Oh,” is the first thing he says when he realizes I’m sitting there. I could swear that there’s some sort of accusation in his eyes as he stares at me.

“Um,” I reply, feeling my cheeks heat up.

“Titillating conversation, kids,” Peregrine says, looking amused.

I try to think of something to say, but his gaze is turning my brain to mush.

“I think I’m going to eat in the caf today,” Caleb says, refocusing on the group.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Caleb,” Peregrine says. “Or are you just being pissy because you didn’t get to go away this weekend?”

“No, I think being pissy is your thing, not mine.”

Peregrine rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling.

“You eat with us every day,” Chloe says. “You’re not going to be rude to Eveny, are you?”

He glances at me uncertainly.

“Of course not.” But he avoids looking at me as he settles on the far end of the blanket.

Peregrine must notice the same thing, because she’s looking back and forth between us with a small smile on her face. “Well, then,” she says finally, glancing at Chloe.

I cast sidelong looks at Caleb while Arelia and Margaux quickly pile sandwich quarters and spoonfuls of macaroni salad onto gold-rimmed bone china plates and hand them out.

I’m the last to receive my food, which Arelia shoves at me. I take a bite of an egg salad sandwich, which is soft and delicious, as the others take big swigs of their cocktails.

“So, how do you concentrate in the afternoon if you drink these at lunch?” I ask after a moment, holding up my drink.

“We don’t have to concentrate, silly!” Chloe trills. “Besides, that’s what the verbena flower is for. It enhances concentration.”

I look at her in confusion. When I was a kid, my mom used to make up funny bedtime stories about herbs and their magical powers—which is probably one of the things that got me so interested in botany—so I’m no stranger to superstition. But do these girls truly believe that the verbena is having some sort of effect on them? I recall the strange words of Chloe’s mom as she handed me the coffee cake last week, and I realize that maybe the answer is yes.

I watch in silence as they continue to sip and eat. Even in the humidity of midday, everyone’s hair is perfect, and the girls’ makeup hasn’t budged. I’m sure that I, on the other hand, look like I’ve stuck my finger in a light socket, frizzing my hair and insta-melting the foundation off my face. Yet no one has said anything biting about the way I look, although I’m expecting Peregrine to be full of snide remarks.