Is Bridgeport big enough for Kae, Robyn, Alex and Jasmine? They're all beautiful, captivating, and a little bit crazy... but there can be only one It Girl.
[ Based on the It Girl series by Cecily Von Ziegesar ]
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Thursday morning, Jasmine was buzzed into Marymount's Stansfield Hall office. It was an enormous room on the second floor with huge bay windows that had sweeping views of the entire campus and, in early October, the flaming colors of the autumn foliage. As she strode across the dark mahogany floor and onto the carpet in her lace-up brown leather boots, Marymount stood up from his shockingly neat desk.
It wasn't that it was empty—it was in complete geometric order. A large paper calendar was spread out in the middle, filled with carefully penned-in appointments and notes. Tiny cups of pens, dishes of paper clips, a tape dispenser, and a stapler were all lined up as if in military formation, ready at any moment to attack. Even the silver picture frame of the dean's family was angled perfectly toward his chair to allow his guests to just catch a glimpse of his angelic-looking wife and children. Interesting. His wife was way prettier than Angelica freaking Davis. Jasmine shook his outstretched hand.
"Ms. Sanders," he said pleasantly, if a little efficiently. "What can I do for you today?"
Jasmine sank into one of the antique chairs and crossed her legs, primly stretching the hem of her army green shirtdress down over her knee. "I've been talking with Mrs. Feingold at the Rhinecliff Public Library about borrowing their copy Carmen Jones to show at an upcoming Cinephiles event." That much was certainly true—she'd spent an hour listening to the elderly woman chew her ear off about how "debonair" Harry Belafonte was and how all the ladies in her day "swooned" over him.
"Ah!" Marymount exclaimed, leaning back in his chair and tapping his fingers against his temples. "Excellent film. That Dorothy Dandridge—what a charmer."
Jasmine nodded enthusiastically. "Exactly. So, as I was talking to Mrs. Feingold, she mentioned the fact that the library occasionally holds outdoor screenings, and they have all the equipment for it and would be willing to lend it to the Cinephiles."
Marymount's face was becoming decidedly tense as she was talking, almost comically so, as if he had suddenly sucked on a lemon.
Jasmine plowed on regardless. "And so... I was hoping to get permission for a special off-campus Cinephiles event. Mrs. Feingold also offered up the use of her old barn in town, as she says it would be perfect for screening the film on its side wall." That part was the fairly outrageous lie—poor Mrs. Feingold probably would have swooned herself if she'd known how she was being implicated in this farce, yet Jasmine couldn't very well tell Marymount that the barn belonged to the liquor store guy.
Dean Marymount shook his head slowly and resolutely. "I'm afraid it is completely out of the question to grant permission for something like this." He ran his hand through his hair and coughed. "The legal ramifications alone..." He was shaking his head faster now, like it was just such a phenomenally stupid idea he couldn't even believe Jasmine had bothered him with it. "But especially in light of all the trouble that has gone on here in the last few weeks." He looked sternly at her over the rims of his glasses. "It's simply not possible."
