The Bridging Quad

The School of Blessed Alix Le Clercq

Friday 22nd May, 2009

3:30 P.M.

Massie Block had a theory: the sun always shone a little brighter on Westchester. Her father, William, always said that God smiled on upstate New York. She didn't know if that was true, but she'd been just about everywhere worth going and she didn't doubt for a second that here in Westchester the grass was greener, the days were longer, and the people were better looking.

And today…well, today was a particularly glorious day. The last day of her junior year was finally over and, as per tradition, she had joined the students of Blessed Alix Le Clercq and the neighboring elitist all-boys school, Johns Meredith, on the quad that connected both campuses.

Despite the beautiful day, Massie wasn't ready to smile just yet. She pushed her Oliver Peoples sunglasses a little higher on her nose, and stretched out her sun-kissed legs. "Lay off the sunscreen, Dyl," she advised her companion disdainfully. "You could use a little color."

The redhead seated beside her, Dylan Marvil, had been her friend since early childhood. It was, more than anything, a friendship based on convenience: one needed the other's influence, and the other needed protection. In a school filled with girls who looked like runway models it wasn't easy to be pale, tall and a size 6; even if you were Merri-Lee Marvil's daughter and American royalty. That was something Dylan had learnt the hard way.

Dylan threw the bottle of cherry soda-scented Hawaiian Tropic SPF 60+ she'd been using into her Louis Vuitton tote with disgust, so miserable that she didn't care if sunscreen spilt over its contents: gauzy, angelic-looking, white cotton blouses and denim cut-offs that cost hundreds of dollars. "Some of us just burn, Massie."

"Whatever." Massie was too preoccupied with her own thoughts to pick up on Dylan's snarky tone. She began to play with her silky, pin-straight brown hair: twirling it around her fingers and tugging on it anxiously. She could feel a great number of people eyeing her appreciatively – her slinky, nude Calvin Klein slip didn't leave much to the imagination – but for once, the admiration of others wasn't enough to placate her. "Has Alicia left yet?"

Dylan glanced around, shielding her green eyes from the sun with her hands. "Her car's still here; she can't be far," she murmured, nodding at the shimmering red Audi R8 parked in a slice of prime parking lot real estate. Parked beside it was a hand-me-down BMW belonging to Kristen Gregory, who was sitting in the driver's seat, her phone glued to her ear.

"Are you pissed that Kristen's going to be Head Prefect next year?"

Massie rolled her hazel eyes. "Please. Her mother is the Principal – anyone who didn't see that coming is deaf, dumb and blind," she said aloud, but she balled her hands into fists by her sides.

Of course I'm pissed, she thought bitterly, and frowned. No one deserves to be Head Prefect more than I do.

Kristen caught Dylan's gaze and waved. Her conversation ended abruptly and she tossed her phone to the side, clambered out of the car and locked it; walked towards them purposefully, her hands shoved in the pockets of her J. Crew skirt and her blonde hair flowing behind her. "Hey," she called.

"Hey," Dylan called back, suddenly nervous. Massie didn't say anything.

Kristen shuffled nervously, looking around at the architecture, the hacienda bushes, the rows of shiny sports cars and luxury SUVs – anywhere but at Massie. "Um…about the party tonight…"

Massie smiled beatifically. Her end-of-year parties were unparalleled by anything else on the social calendar of Alix Le Clercq's many students. "Yeah?" she prompted, wanting to hear Kristen beg.

Unfortunately, she was denied the opportunity: Kristen changed her mind. "I know how much you wanted to be Head Prefect next year, and…well, I just want to apologize, Mass. You know I never intended – "

Massie interrupted, unable to hear anymore. Head Prefecture was an honor, but it was voted for by the student body and therefore it amounted to little more than a popularity contest. Being outvoted by Kristen Gregory, who was pretty but boring, was a low blow. "Don't be silly, Kiki!" she said, falsely bright. She shrugged. "These things just happen – right?"

Massie had decided to become friends with Kristen in the eighth grade, after reading The Art of War by Sun Tzu and The Prince by Machiavelli for her Modern History class. Both texts advised knowing your enemy and keeping your enemies close, and Massie had no greater rival than Kristen.

Kristen smiled weakly. "Um, right. So, we're okay?"

"Better than okay." Massie grinned; her trademark shit-eating grin. The mere fear of her wrath had the school's best orator stumbling over her words. "You're coming tonight, right?"

"I – yeah, of course."

"Good. Are you bringing anyone…?"

Kristen jerked her thumb over her shoulder, gesturing at a group of Johns Meredith students who were playing a game of shirts-and-skins soccer.

Immediately, Dylan's face flushed – amongst them was Derrick Harrington, who was Massie's ex-boyfriend and Dylan's latest obsession. She'd been pretending not to look in that direction for the half-hour that she and Massie had been sitting outside. As if I hadn't noticed. Massie fought back the smarmy grin tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"Cam and I live right near each other, so we're driving together."

For the first time in their conversation, Massie's smile was truly genuine. "Well, isn't that nice?" she said aloud, watching Cam Fischer – Kristen's supposed date – as he wiped at his forehead with the hem of his shirt, revealing a strip of perfectly tanned, well-defined muscle.

He was Derrick's perfect counterpart: dark-haired where Derrick was blonde, serious where Derrick was goofy. He'd abandoned his worn Diesel leather jacket and guitar case on the grass nearby to join Johns Meredith's other star players in a friendly game.

As she watched, Derrick and Cam embraced each other in a hug to celebrate a particularly hard-won goal. "It's a pool party," Massie told Kristen. "Make double-sure Cam knows so he can…dress appropriately."

Dylan nudged Massie. "I spy with my little eye, something that looks pissed. Ten o'clock."

Alicia Rivera stood in the doorway – antique 1900s mahogany, three stories tall – of Alix Le Clercq, tapping her foot nervously. She was a vision in a psychedelic Camilla Franks kaftan and strappy Giuseppe Zanotti heels; students stopped to glance covertly in her direction. In her hands she held a single black, leather-bound book. Her expression was thunderous.

"What's eating her ass?" Massie murmured bitterly.

"You know Leesh – total drama queen," Dylan said off-handedly, turning back to watch Derrick score another goal.

Kristen nodded. "I'm sure she just discovered that someone's wearing the same shoes she is or something."

But Massie felt discomfited by the look on Alicia's face. "Yeah, maybe," she said, clearly disbelieving. "I'll go talk to her, though. Just in case." She stood and brushed grass off of her Lanvin gladiator sandals. Kristen automatically took her place on the picnic blanket, pulling out a battered Penguin Classic.

A few students tried to stop Massie as she crossed the quad but she ignored them all. Alicia had noticed her and beckoned her with a single finger before turning on her heel and disappearing back into the Main Hall. Massie found her in the first deserted classroom, pacing back and forth in front of the electronic whiteboard.

"What the fuck, Leesh?" Massie hissed impatiently. "Dylan and I have been on the quad for thirty minutes; you didn't even show."

Alicia glared at Massie. "Fuck you."

Massie's jaw dropped. "I beg your fucking pardon?"

"Did you tell Skye Hamilton about my dad?" Alicia stopped and stood still, pointing a finger in Massie's face. "I swear to God, if you told anyone, we will ruin you. We will bury you in libel and defamation claims until your father wouldn't step foot in The Westchester without hanging his head!"

"Watch who you're threatening, Leesh," Massie said darkly. "I didn't tell Skye shit – and I'm especially sure that I didn't tell her anything about the many misdeeds of Len fucking Rivers."

Alicia seems defiant for a moment, but finally she dropped her hand and her pretty face became crestfallen. "I just don't understand how she found out," she groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose with her thumb and her forefinger. She did that whenever she was stressed: she was prone to migraines.

"Did she say something to you?"

Alicia shook her head. "No. But I know she knows."

"How?"

Alicia gestured at the leather-bound book she'd been carrying before; she'd thrown it onto a desk in the front row. "It's all in there. All my secrets – all of them. Things even I had forgotten I'd done."

Massie picked up the book gingerly and began to flick through the pages. It wasn't just a dossier on Alicia: there were pages dedicated to every student in their sophomore class, as well as a few pages for younger and older students. She turned to a page about Dylan and surveyed it sadly, touching the rich, thick paper.

"She spent a lot of time on this book," Massie said. "The titles are letter-pressed; the pages have golden edges. It's all typed and embossed with gold. She was saving this for something special." She hesitated. "Where did you find it?"

Alicia sniffed, leaning against the teacher's desk, now empty and cold. "She wasn't here. I mean, she's been M.I.A. all week – "

Massie rolled her eyes at Alicia's revelation. As if she hadn't noticed Skye's absence.

Alicia continued. " – so Dr. Gregory asked me to clean out her locker and she gave me the combination. I wasn't even going to look at that stupid book, but…"

"But this is you we're talking about, and you couldn't help yourself," Massie finished. Alicia looked wounded. "Not that I blame you," she added. "In fact, I'm glad. If you hadn't looked at it, we wouldn't know what we were up against."

Massie took a seat at the desk and placed both hands on the book, as if she were about to cast a spell or make an oath. Alicia observed her carefully. "You don't seem very surprised, M."

"I'm not," Massie said, lying. "I never trusted Hamilton."

Internally, Massie was a mess: a nervous wreck; angry; disappointed. Disappointed in Skye and disappointed in herself.

In a year, Skye had become the sister Massie had never had; her closest friend; and that year had been nothing but a piece of a puzzle. A piece of a puzzle, and Massie couldn't even imagine the finished picture. Their fathers worked together and their mothers lunched together; they'd spent hours together every weekend talking and drinking and making a mess.

What had Skye been planning? To fuck me over? To fuck everyone over?

Externally, she tried to remain calm – took a deep breath. Massie liked to be in control and if she couldn't be in control, she liked to look like she was.

"Yeah, but you didn't trust her because you thought she was a slut. You couldn't have imagined she'd do anything like this to – "

"I underestimated her." Massie sighed, not liking the direction their conversation was taking. No, she hadn't seen this coming – had Alicia? Had anyone?

I underestimated her because even I liked her. She was funny; she knew all the Johns Meredith boys and how to play them. She was easy to talk to – too easy to talk to. We were cut from the same cloth; that's what I liked about her. So why am I surprised she's just as scheming and manipulative as I am?

"Are there just girls in here? BALC students?"

"A few teacher's she's had illicit affairs with; one or two Johns Meredith boys."

"Which ones?"

"The usual suspects…Derrick, Josh, Landon…there's two pages dedicated to Chris Abeley."

Massie rolled her eyes. "What is it with Chris Abeley?"

Alicia shrugged. "Why do you think she was building this book? Blackmail? Extortion?"

"Power."

"Power?"

"Over us. 'Knowledge is power,' isn't that what they say?" Massie shrugged. "Too bad for Miss Hamilton, but we now have the upper-hand." She flipped through the book until she found the page dedicated to her, and ripped it out.

"And what are we going to do with it?" Alicia asked, watching Massie rip at the page. For good measure (and because Alicia was watching), Massie ripped out the page dedicated to her, too.

"These pages? I'm going to use them to fuel the tiki torches at my party tonight. Which Skye is so uninvited to, BTW."

Alicia grinned. "I meant the book."

"Oh." Massie smiled.

"First thing's first: go put the rest of Skye's shit in your car and drive it over to her house; make your excuses and get out of there quick. I'll call her, tell her my party's cancelled before you get there and then you can corroborate. Then, we're going to have Skye expelled. Unceremoniously. And she can get the fuck out of Westchester."

Saying the words out loud hurt. She tried to imagine a year without her best friend; a lifetime. And all of it without a goodbye.

"How? For what?" Alicia rolled her eyes. "You're good, M, but you're not that good."

Massie thought for a second. "Don't second guess me, Leesh…"

She turned her back and stared at the posters on the wall. Talking her father into transferring Skye's father to another office – and taking Skye along with him – would be easy. She'd done it before, when her best friend in middle school and the daughter of another of William's co-workers had stolen her seventh grade boyfriend. This time, she'd tell him that they'd had a falling out; ask him to promote Mr. Hamilton to a better position. One as far away as possible.

But manipulating was significantly harder.

"I'll run down to the library, photocopy a few choice pages, hide the book and tell the darling that I only had access to the book for a minute, and I don't know its current whereabouts. Skye will be expelled, the accusations and allegations that Gregory has access to will be investigated – based on an anonymous tip – and no one will be any the wiser."

Alicia's pretty pink pout stretched into a bone-chilling, malicious grin. "Maybe you are that good. I'm down. What's the next step?"

Massie crumpled up the two ripped pages and hid them in her bag. For a second she considered doing the same for Dylan and Kristen, but she knew that the book would be for her eyes only from now on – what was the point? "There is no step two, Leesh. We don't need the book; we're already in a class of our own."

"So…what are we going to do with the book?"

Massie smiled sweetly and stood. She crossed to the door before she answered Alicia's question. "I'm going to destroy it, A. Good riddance to bad news."

As the door closed behind Massie and she stalked towards the library, she slipped the book into her Alexander Wang tote for safety. She had no idea how Skye had done it – amassed all of these secrets and intimate details.

And it didn't matter.