Welcome to Bridgeport Academy, an elite boarding school in New York where glamorous rich kids don't let rules get in the way of a good time.
[ Based on the It Girl series by Cecily Von Ziegesar ]
Rất tiếc! Hình ảnh này không tuân theo hướng dẫn nội dung. Để tiếp tục đăng tải, vui lòng xóa hoặc tải lên một hình ảnh khác.
Chris saw Robyn leaning up against the storefront, nervously fiddling with her bamboo-handled Chanel bag and holding an unlit cigarette. It was a warm afternoon and she was wearing a colorful flimsy shirt and matching skirt. Rhinecliff locals (mostly hippie artists) were milling about the cobblestone street, eating ice cream cones from the creamery and stopping to talk to Hank, the guy who sold tie-dyed T-shirts and incense on the sidewalk. Chris doubted the hippies were talking to Hank for the incense, though. Hank sold weed to plenty of Bridgeport students, including him.
"Well, look who's here," Robyn said sarcastically. Chris didn't answer. They were in front of Adore, a girly boutique Robyn deigned to shop at. It was the only store in Rhinecliff that didn't usually sell tie-dyed shirts, and when it did, they were silk, sequined, and cost $300. It was important that Chris talk to Robyn, though, so here he was.
"We're in trouble," he announced flatly.
Robyn examined her freshly manicured nails. "We, huh?"
Chris scowled. "Of course we. And why did I see Kae come out of Mr. Jordan's office? Was it for last night? She had nothing to do with this."
"Well, Ms. Emory called me in too. And if you must know, yes, Kae was in there because of last night. It's not like I can take the rap. The E thing, remember? My parents would disown me and send me to public school!"
"What are you talking about?" Chris demanded, rubbing the unshaven sides of his face.
Robyn shook her mane of hair off the back of her neck. "Look, I don't want to get kicked out. So I said you were there with Kae and that we were broken up."
"What?" Chris asked, stunned. Robyn shrugged and pushed open the door to the store. Chimes jingled to announce their arrival.
"Sweetheart! Welcome back!" shrieked a very tall, very thin woman with slicked-back hair as soon as they stepped through the door.
"Hi, Tracey!" Robyn cooed. They kissed each other's cheeks in a well-rehearsed routine. Chris hung back, wanting out. Immediately. Shopping, screaming girls...so not his thing. Why had he come? He should be enjoying his last days at Bridgeport.
"I held some things for you over the summer," Tracey beckoned, whisking Robyn and Chris into a little back section. She brought out a garment rack of shiny dresses, skirts, and blouses and held up an ivory gown. "Isn't this pretty?"
Chris turned his head to the side to read the price tag: $2,250.
"Oh, yes," Robyn breathed. She didn't seem at all concerned that she'd gotten her new roommate in trouble or that she'd lied to the administration. Nope. All she was worried about was whether this dress came in a small enough size.
"You could practically wear this to your wedding!" Tracey shoved the dress up against Robyn's body.
"Yeah, if you were a prostitute," Chris added rudely. He plopped down onto the lavender couch, pulling a frilly, pink lace pillow out from under his ass.
