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eyed me as the Twin Cities buttoned their coats and smoothed their hair. I knew she couldn't believe she'd just been unceremoniously
snubbed, and I felt a quick rush of triumph. I was in charge now. She was just going to have to get used to it. With a heavy sigh,
Noelle finally arose and picked up her coat. "All right, then. We'll go. But it is an utter waste of time." "We'll call up the car!" London
announced, grabbing Vienna's arm as they traipsed off toward the front desk. Noelle slowly belted her black coat and looked at me
with narrow- eyed interest. "You really are enjoying this power trip you're on, aren't you, Glass-Licker?" "Just doing my job," I said
with a forced smile.
She smirked and strolled off after the Twin Cities, leaving me alone for the moment with Sabine .Her brows knit as she adjusted
her new, very trendy white cloche hat. "Why does she call you Glass-Licker?" she asked. I paused, letting the memory of my first-ever
conversation with Noelle wash over me for a moment. Letting myself relish the fact that even though she couldn't give up the nick-
name, our positions in life had completely changed. So much so that the insulting moniker was starting to feel like a joke. An homage
to times gone by. A term of endearment. Somehow, it didn't hold the same power it used to. "It's a long story," I told Sabine, looping
my arm through hers the way London and Vienna were always doing. "Along, stupid story."
* **
"Oh my God, Vienna! I thought Etienne was going to die when he realized you let someone else trim your bangs!" London cried as
we stepped out of the Lange family's chauffeured limo somewhere on West Thirteenth Street. A stiff wind nearly blew me off my feet,
and a pair of NYU boys eyed us with interest as they strolled by. "I think he actually cried. I swear I saw a tear," I added. "Well, that's
what he gets for refusing to come up to Easton every week to shape me," Vienna said blithely, flicking her hair away from her face. "I
even offered to pay for his transportation, but no. He simply cannot be away from the city for an entire afternoon," she added, putting
on Etienne's thick French accent. "It would mean disastre!" We all laughed, slightly high on the triumphs of the morning. Not only
had the proprietor at Tassos's studio of choice practically bent over backward to accommodate us once we'd dropped the photogra-
pher's name, but Vienna had guilted the owner of her salon into canceling all his appointments for next Saturday afternoon so that we
could rent out the entire facility. We'd even had a chance to swing by Dylan's Candy Bar to load up on sugar. So far I'd consumed al-
most half a pound of gummy bears and a Wonka Bar. I was having actual fun, and had hardly thought of Josh or Cheyenne or Ivy all
day. So far, so perfect.
"He should know better," Noelle sniffed as she looked up and down the sidewalk, trying to pinpoint our destination. "You and your
sister have been his most loyal clients ever since you first sprouted hair." "I forgot you had a sister," Sabine said to Vienna, hugging
herself against the cold. "Will we get to meet her at the fund-raiser?" "Are you kidding? She practically peed in her pants when I told
her about Frederica Falk and the photo shoot. She already sent me her donation," Vienna said. "What about your sister, Sabine? Did
you invite her?" I asked. "She's out of the country right now," Sabine replied, her face brightening at the subject. "But she so wishes
she could come. I think she--" "Where is this place?" Noelle asked, interrupting Sabine. Quite rudely, I thought. "I can never remem-
