Because I'm Worth It Read online

  She’d never been sure of her chances of getting in early, and just to show the NYU admissions office her artistic range and to prove how serious she was about being a film major, she’d sent them the New York film essay that she’d shot over Christmas break. Once she’d sent it in, she’d worried they’d think she was trying too hard. But now her worries were over. They liked her! They wanted her! Vanessa could finally shake the bitchy, shallow shackles of Constance Billard for good and focus on her craft at a place for serious artists like herself.

  Dan was gazing up at her from the bed. His sweet brown eyes seemed to be shining a little less ecstatically than they had been before.

  “I’m so proud of you, sweetie,” Ruby crooned in her most motherly voice. “Will you be home for dinner? I’ve been reading Eastern European cookbooks. I’m thinking of making pierogi.”

  “Sure,” Vanessa answered quietly, suddenly concerned about Dan. He hadn’t applied anywhere early, so it would be a couple months before he found out where he was going next year. Dan was so sensitive. This was just the sort of thing that could throw him into an insecurity-induced depression, the kind where he locked himself in his room and wrote poems about dying in a car accident or something. “Thanks for letting me know,” she told Ruby quickly. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

  Dan was still staring up at her expectantly as she clicked off the phone and dropped it on the bed. “You got into NYU,” he said, trying but failing to hide the note of accusation in his voice. Oh, how skinny and stupid and inadequate he was! Not that he wasn’t happy for her, but Vanessa was already into college, and he was just this scrawny guy who liked to write poems and who might never get into college at all. “Wow,” he added hoarsely. “That’s great.”

  Vanessa flopped back on the bed and pulled the sheet up around them. The room felt colder now that the sweat of passion had cooled on their bodies. “It’s really no big deal,” she argued, trying to play down the excitement she’d exuded when she’d heard the news. “You’re the one with a poem about to come out in The New Yorker.”

  Over Christmas break, Vanessa had submitted Dan’s poem “Sluts” to The New Yorker without his knowing, and it had been accepted for publication in the Valentine’s Day double issue, which would be out later that week. “I guess,” Dan agreed, shrugging his shoulders dubiously. “But I still don’t know anything . . . I mean, about my future.”

  Vanessa encircled Dan’s waist with her arms and pressed her cheek into his pale, ribby chest. She still couldn’t believe she was going to NYU in the fall. It was a sure thing, her destiny. Still trembling with excitement, she tried to focus on consoling Dan. “How many other seventeen-year-old kids have you heard of with poems published in The New Yorker? It’s amazing,” she murmured gently. “And as soon as the admissions officers at the colleges you applied to find out about it, you’re going to get in everywhere you applied, and maybe even places you didn’t.”

  “Maybe,” Dan responded hollowly. It was easy for Vanessa to sound so confident. She was already in.

  Vanessa propped herself up on one elbow. There was one sure way of making Dan feel better, at least for a little while. “Remember what we were doing right before Ruby called?” she purred like a mischievous black kitty cat.

  Dan frowned up at her. One black eyebrow was cocked at a sultry angle and her pale nostrils were flared. He hadn’t thought he’d be up to it anymore, but his body surprised him. He pulled Vanessa down on top of him and kissed her hard. If anything could make a boy feel more like a lion than a mouse, it was a little purring.

  Me-ow.

  Disclaimer: All the real names of places, people, and events have been altered or abbreviated to protect the innocent. Namely, me.

  hey people!

  Senior slump

  I’ve heard the expression “senior slump” many times, but I never knew what it meant exactly. Now it’s crystal clear. Senior slump is when you blow off your afternoon classes and go back to your friend’s apartment to order veggie lo mein, drink chardonnay, and smoke cigarettes. It’s when you wind up in bed with a boy at three o’clock in the afternoon. It’s when you skip third-period calculus to stock up on clingy silk jersey wrap dresses at Diane von Furstenberg’s private sale. It’s when you accidentally sleep till ten on a Thursday. Oops. Last term we were such goody-goodies, teachers’ pets. This term we’re badasses. We’re also feeling our wild oats. I’m pretty sure half the girls in my P.E. class were off kissing boys on the steps of the Metropolitan Museum of Art instead of doing chin-ups on the monkey bars in the gym. Keep it up girls— hooking up is much better exercise!

  Sightings

  J and a tall, freckled girl with an unfortunate haircut giggling during a dance class at Constance Billard. Guess J has a new friend. N and his buddies ordering chai at Starbucks, in the hopes that it might be laced with something mood-altering. V at the NYU store buying an NYU mug, an NYU sweatshirt, and an NYU baseball cap. And she claims not to be a sucker for that sort of thing. D combing his local newsstand for an advance issue of The New Yorker. S and A enjoying a little PDA as usual. She’s never had a boyfriend for more than five minutes, so we’ll see how long this lasts. . . .

  Okay, I admit it. I’m cutting class as we speak. Promise you won’t tell!

  You know you love me.

  gossip girl

  s is in love

  Standing in a drift of old snow outside the Constance Billard School for Girls on East Ninety-third Street, Aaron Rose waited for Serena to come hurtling through the towering royal blue school doors and into his arms. Mookie, his brown-and-white boxer, sat panting beside him on the sidewalk wearing the red-and-black plaid doggie jacket Serena had bought him yesterday at Burberry. In Aaron’s hands were two steaming cups from Starbucks. Ever since they’d gotten together at Serena’s wild New Year’s Eve party six weeks ago, this had become their little ritual. Aaron would meet Serena after school and they’d amble down Fifth Avenue arm in arm, drinking soy lattes and stopping now and then to kiss. New Year’s Eve had been a total fuck-it-we’re-both-in-the-mood-so-why-not-hook-up? spontaneous sort of thing, but over the past month they’d spent every out-of-school moment together, and they were now known as the best-looking and most adorable couple—well, threesome, if you included Mookie—on the Upper East Side.

  Suddenly a ray of bright winter sun flashed on Serena’s cool blond head as she pushed open the school doors, skipped down the stairs in her Stephane Kelian brown suede boots and navy blue Les Best pea coat, and stepped out onto the snowy sidewalk. Her whole face glowed with angelic excitement when she caught sight of Aaron and Mookie.

  “Hi, pup!” she squealed as Mookie wriggled up to her and nuzzled her cashmere-gloved hands. She squatted down and let the dog lick her face as she stroked his head. “You look so handsome today.”

  Aaron watched them with a lazy sense of pride. Yep, that’s my girlfriend. Yep, isn’t she gorgeous?

  Serena stood up and threw her arms around his neck. The air around them filled with the heady, sandalwood-and-patchouli–based scent of the custom-blended essential oil mixture she always wore. “You know what I’ve been thinking about all day?” she gushed, planting a kiss on Aaron’s thin, dark red lips with her full, peach-glossed ones.

  Aaron splayed his feet to keep from stumbling backward and spilling the lattes. “Me?” he guessed. Serena was the type of girl who gave herself entirely to whatever she was into at the moment, and for the time being she just happened to be into Aaron. It had kind of gone to his head.

  She closed her eyes and they kissed again, deeply this time. Behind them, girls in neat wool coats and tall leather boots spilled out of the school doors, shouting giddily. A few of them huddled together to watch in awe as Serena and Aaron continued to kiss.

  “Oh my God,” whispered one eighth grader, swooning in the presence of such coolness. “Do you see what I see?”

  Mookie pawed at the snow and whined impatiently. Serena rubbed her cheek against the scratchy al
paca wool of the gray-and-purple sherpa hat she’d bought for Aaron last weekend at Kirna Zabete in Soho. She loved the way his cute dark brown dreadlocks poked out from beneath the earflaps.

  Everything about Aaron was so adorable, she just wanted to eat him up with a spoon!

  “Of course I was thinking about you,” she said, taking her latte. She cracked open the lid and blew on the sweet, steaming liquid. “I was thinking we should get tattoos.” She paused, waiting for Aaron to respond, but his soft brown eyes looked puzzled, so she went on. “You know, like of our names. To show our commitment to each other.” She took a sip of her coffee and licked her lovely, luscious lips. “I’ve always wanted a tattoo that only I knew about. You know, somewhere private.”

  Aaron smiled hesitantly. He liked Serena a lot. She was intoxicatingly beautiful, a total sweetheart, and completely undemanding. She was above and beyond any girl he’d ever met. But he wasn’t sure he wanted to tattoo her name all over his body. In fact, he’d always thought tattoos were kind of violent, like brands on cattle, and as a vegan and a Rastafarian, he was morally opposed to any type of violence.

  “Tattoos are against my religion,” he stated, but when he saw Serena’s gorgeous face crumple in dismay he took her hand and added quickly, “But I’ll think about it, okay?”

  Serena wasn’t one to hold grudges, certainly not against the cutest boy in the universe. Already over it, she tugged on his hand and they started walking toward Fifth Avenue. The sky was a sullen gray, and a chilly wind bit at their faces. In an hour it would be dark.

  “So what should we do?” she asked. “I was thinking it might be kind of crazy to go up to the top of the Empire State Building. I’ve lived here my whole life and I’ve never even been up there. And it’s so cold. I bet no one even thinks of going up there at this time of year. It’ll be totally empty and romantic, like in a old movie or something.”

  Aaron laughed. “You’ve been hanging out with Blair too much.” His stepsister always turned everything into a romantic black-and-white movie from the fifties, trying to make her life even more glamorous than it already was. As they turned down Fifth, Mookie scampered ahead of them, tugging on the leash looped loosely around Aaron’s wrist. “Hey, chill out, Mook.”

  Serena tucked her free hand into Aaron’s black North Face parka pocket. “Blair was acting really weird during peer group, that new thing we’re doing with the freshmen at lunchtime. After that she just disappeared. She didn’t even show up for gym.”

  Aaron shrugged and sipped his drink. “Maybe she had cramps or something.”

  Serena shook her pretty head. “I’m worried she’s a little jealous. You know, of us.”

  Aaron didn’t say anything. Over Christmas he’d developed a huge crush on Blair, even though she was his stepsister. Being with Serena had made him forget all about it, but it was still odd to think that Blair might actually jealous of them, when he’d been pining over her all those weeks.

  “So, are we going to the Empire State Building?” Serena asked, stopping at the next corner and turning to peer back up Fifth Avenue. A fleet of buses roared by. “If we are, we should grab a cab.”

  Aaron looked at his watch. It was ten after four. “I was kind of thinking I’d like to stop by my house to check the mail.” He grinned bashfully, embarrassed by how nerdy he sounded. “Early acceptance letters were mailed this week.”

  Serena’s long-lashed dark blue eyes opened wide. “Why didn’t you say so?” She tossed her paper cup in a nearby trash can and took off at a run. “Come on, Mook!” she shouted as the boxer bounded happily after her. “Let’s go home and see if your smarty-pants daddy got into Harvard!”

  b does j a little favor

  Jenny had always been shy and had trouble making friends, but she had managed to make one in peer group that day.

  “You know, I never really noticed your, um . . . bra size,” Elise murmured shyly as they were packing up their book bags to go home. On either side of them girls slammed their metal locker doors closed and shouted to each other as they ran downstairs and out the school doors.

  “Yeah, right,” Jenny responded sarcastically, trying to wedge her geometry notebook into her red-and-black-striped Le Sportsac bag in between her French textbook and Anna Karenina.

  Elise giggled as she wound a fuzzy pink scarf around her neck and buttoned the black velvet buttons on her nerdy tweed coat. She definitely looked like her mother still dressed her in the mornings. “Okay, I noticed. But I never thought it bothered you.”

  Jenny tucked her curly dark brown hair behind her ears and squinted at Elise. “It doesn’t bother me.”

  Elise pulled her fuzzy pink hat down over her blond bob and hitched her backpack up on her shoulder. She was nearly a foot taller than Jenny. “Um, are you busy now? Do you want to, like, do something?”

  “Like what?” Jenny zipped up her puffy black parka. Now that she no longer hung out with Nate or her older brother, Dan, she really needed some new friends, and it might be kind of nice to hang out with a girl for once, even though Elise seemed kind of prissy and immature.

  “I don’t know. Like go buy some new makeup at Bendel’s or something?” Elise suggested.

  Jenny cocked her head, pleasantly surprised. For a minute there she’d thought Elise was going to suggest buying an ice cream cone or visiting the zoo. “I’d love to,” she agreed, slamming her locker door closed and starting to walk toward the stairs. “Come on.”

  Blair couldn’t believe how a simple haircut could change everything so drastically. She’d already tried on every flirty empire-waisted top and A-line skirt Bendel’s had in stock— exactly the same types of pieces she’d always worn and looked good in, but now they were all wrong. Her new crop was preppy and sophisticated and gamine. It was going to require a whole new wardrobe.

  “From now on I’ll wear only solid colors,” Blair whispered as she buttoned up her uniform and hung the last unwanted dress on its hanger. “And everything must have a collar.” She pulled open the red velvet curtain and dumped six wildly printed Diane von Furstenberg tops into the sales clerk’s arms. “I changed my mind. I’m looking for simple suits in navy blue and black. And plain white shirts with collars.” She wanted to look sexy in a chic Parisian-woman-wearing-a-simple-black-dress-while-riding-a-bicycle-and-carrying-a-baguette-under-her-arm sort of way. Nate had always had a thing about French girls. He would go out of his way to walk by L’École Française just to gape at the girls in their short gray skirts, high heels, and tight black V-neck sweaters. Those tramps.

  Soon Blair had found the first item in her new wardrobe and the perfect thing to wear for her interview Thursday night: a navy blue knit shirtdress by Les Best with a beaded belt and a cute little white lace collar at the neck. It was prim yet intriguing—just what Blair was looking for. She paid for the dress and then headed downstairs to cosmetics to outfit herself with navy blue mascara and a subtle shade of lip gloss that wasn’t as girly or come-hither as her usual shade of light pink or dark red.

  “Look who’s here,” Jenny whispered to Elise in front of the Stila counter. “Hi, Blair.”

  “Great haircut!” added Elise perkily.

  Blair turned around to find two of the freshmen from her peer group: she-really-should-have-a-breast-reduction Ginny, and in-desperate-need-of-a-makeover Eliza, or whatever their names were, staring at her admiringly. She was horrified to see that they were trying on some of the same eye shadows and lip glosses that she wore all the time. Couldn’t they just stick with Maybelline from Rite Aid or something?

  Elise frowned down at the vial of glittery black eye dust in her hand. “Is this stuff any good?”

  Yes, it’s good. But you’re really not ready for it yet.

  Blair couldn’t help but give them a little big-sisterly advice. She slung her brown-and-white-striped Bendel’s shopping bag over her wrist and got to work. “With your coloring, I’d go for something lighter.” She reached for a sample tube of pale silvery green gel
shadow. “This would really bring out the aqua tones in your eyes,” she instructed, marveling at how nice she sounded.

  Elise took the tube and dabbed a little on her eyelids. It was barely visible, but it caught the light and miraculously made her small, close-together blue eyes look brighter and prettier. “Wow,” she trilled, mesmerized.

  Jenny reached for the tube. “Can I try?”

  Blair snatched it away. “Absolutely not. You need something in beige or peach.” Blair couldn’t believe herself. The weird thing was, she was enjoying it. “Here.” She handed Jenny a fat, rust-colored eye pencil. “It goes on softer than it looks.”

  Jenny drew a careful line along the edge of one eyelid and blinked at the result. She looked instantly older, and the color gave her big brown eyes a nice amber glow. She leaned forward to do the left one but something in the mirror’s reflection caught her eye.

  Or someone, to be precise.

  The store was bustling with shoppers stocking up on winter sale items, but Bendel’s only caters to women, so all of the shoppers were female. All but one.

  He looked about sixteen, tall and thin, with shaggy blond hair and wearing a chocolate brown corduroy jacket and jeans that hung loose from his gaunt body. Sort of like the guy in the Calvin Klein Eternity for Men ad, except less hunky.

  “Wow,” Jenny said softly.

  “Isn’t it great?” Blair chimed in. “Smudge it in a little with your finger. You should use brown mascara, too. It will make your eyes look even bigger.”

  “No, I mean wow, look at him,” Jenny clarified. “Behind me.”

  Blair glanced over her shoulder to see a geeky, too-young-for-her blond boy perusing the Bendel’s signature cosmetics bags. She turned back to Jenny. “What? You think he’s cute?”