“This is amazing!” he declares.
Margaux glares at me. “Well?”
“Peregrine and Chloe are fine with it,” I say.
Margaux opens her mouth to retort, but Peregrine cuts her off. “Seriously, Margaux, give it a rest, and pour me a drink, would you? I’m completely parched.”
Margaux opens her mouth then clamps it shut almost comically. “Just don’t expect me to serve them lunch.”
“They are our guests, Margaux, and you will serve them,” Peregrine snaps.
“But—” Margaux begins. She trails off when Peregrine’s eyes narrow even further. “Fine,” she grumbles. “Champagne?” she asks Liv, Drew, and Max, her voice dripping with bitterness.
The three of them accept and follow me to sit beside Peregrine and Chloe.
“This is, like, the best day of my entire high school career,” Max enthuses once we’ve toasted and taken sips of our bubbly. Arelia and Margaux are both glaring as they prepare a platter of sandwiches for us to share.
“Here,” Margaux barks, shoving the platter so hard at us that a few sandwiches topple over the edge.
Max seems oblivious to their coldness, though, and begins chattering away a mile a minute, asking if they’re going to the Mardi Gras Ball, what they’re wearing, and where they got a cashmere blanket this big. Eventually, Margaux and Arelia seem to warm to him. In fact, they even look vaguely amused.
But though we’re all eating together, Liv and Drew sit on one side of the blanket, staring suspiciously at Peregrine and Chloe, who stare suspiciously back until they’re distracted by the arrival of their guys. Justin immediately drapes himself over Chloe, and they spend the rest of the lunch hour making out. Peregrine, not to be outdone, has charmed a skater named Tyler into fawning all over her today.
“They are so gross,” Liv says. “It’s like watching porn.”
“Uh-huh,” Drew agrees vaguely.
“Hey, hotness.” Pascal interrupts my train of thought as he approaches from the other side of the Hickories. He grins at me lasciviously and then turns to Liv. “I see you’ve brought someone new to lunch. Hey, baby.”
She wrinkles her nose, and I see Drew stiffen beside her.
“She’s with me,” Drew says.
I exchange looks with Liv, who looks thrilled that Drew has come to her defense.
Pascal gazes at him evenly. “And you are . . . ?”
“You know who I am, man,” Drew says stiffly. “We’ve been in school together for years.”
Pascal looks amused. “Well, man, I can’t notice everyone. But this pretty thing, well, with a little makeup and a wardrobe makeover, she’d be damn fine. Just the kind of woman I’d like to get to know in a special way.”
Liv opens her mouth to reply, but Drew beats her to it. “I said, she’s with me.”
Pascal crosses his arms. “I’m sorry. Did you not understand that I don’t give a damn about that?”
Drew glowers back. “Did you not understand that you can’t just take whatever you want?”
Pascal’s eyes flicker for a moment, and then he chuckles. “Dude, you really have no idea. I’ll have her if I want her. And there’s nothing you can do about it.” He calls over to Peregrine, “Hey, who invited this douche up here anyhow?”
“He’s with Eveny!” Peregrine singsongs, breaking away from her make-out session long enough to smirk at me. “I told her it was a bad idea.”
Pascal turns back to me. “Way to go, Eveny. We have a firm no douchebag rule in the Hickories.”
“Then how do you manage to eat lunch here every day?” I ask evenly.
His face darkens for a moment, long enough to make me feel uneasy, but then he laughs. “Touché,” he says. “But seriously, babe. You can’t just let commoners up here.” He turns to Liv and adds, “Although you’re welcome anytime. Preferably with fewer clothes on.”
He shoots Drew a challenging look, but I put a hand on Drew’s chest and say, “Don’t.”
Drew appears to relax after a moment, turning to Liv. “I’ve been meaning to ask you: would you be my date to the Mardi Gras Ball?”
Liv turns pink. Her eyes dart to me for a second and then back to Drew. “For real?” she squeaks.
Drew grins at her. “I’d love to take you.”
“I mean, I guess, yeah, that would be fine.” She’s trying to play it cool, but when her eyes meet mine, I can see her fighting a grin.
“Oh, puke,” Pascal says, rolling his eyes. “Eveny, you want to be my date to the ball?”
“Not a chance,” I reply sweetly.