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The blonde offers a white-toothed smile and waves back more subtly.
“We met Paige at registration. She seems nice enough, and she’s taking ballet as well–same year as you.” Tammy elbows me lightly, letting me in on their find-a-friend plan to ensure I don’t get too lonely.
I bite back an amused smile. Only Tori and Tammy would take it upon themselves to ensure I go into classes with a dance buddy. God forbid I try and find a friend on my own. That could end up a complete disaster in their minds.
“Paige, this is Whitney, our ballet friend we told you about,” Tori introduces as soon as Paige stops in front of us.
“They wouldn’t shut up about you in line for registration,” Paige says dryly, the hint of a smile pulling at her lips.
Sarcasm–we’re off to a good start.Maybe the twins actually have found me a friend. I flash Paige a cheeky grin. “Getting them to shut up at all is a feat I have yet to achieve.”
“Whatever, Carlson. You miss hearing us talk, when we’re not around. Admit it,” Tammy sasses.
I roll my eyes before affectionately pulling her into a side hug. “I might miss hearingToritalk…” I tease.
Tori giggles. “Same same but different,” she says with a shrug as Tammy shoves me away, sticking out her tongue in the process. “Anyway, we hit it off with Paige when we found out that her family vacations in Europe every summer too.”
“Oh?” I turn my attention to Paige, assessing her face as I prompt her with a “Do tell.”
Paige flicks her bleach-blond waves over her shoulder in what could almost be a caricaturization of the rich and materialistic–if she didn’t look so sincere while doing it. “We normally do a few weeks in London, a month at our summer house in Nice–because what is a holiday without a French shopping spree–and follow it up with a few more weeks of travel to wherever my parents find interesting that year. This time, we went to Greece.”
“We were there at the same time!” Tori says, bouncing excitedly. “But apparently on opposite paths. She started on the islands and ended in Athens. I guess we were actually on the same flight home though.”
“Very cool,” I say, trying to suppress a wave of inexplicable irritation at Paige that might stem from her nonchalantly entitled comment but dangerously borders on jealousy. It’s not her fault her family comes from means while mine has struggled for years to cover the bare necessities.
“I love this bag,” Paige gushes, spotting my new school bag slung over my shoulder, compliments of the fat stack of cash Ilya gave me.
“Oh, um, thanks,” I say, coloring slightly as I realize I’ve turned into a hypocrite. I just did a shopping spree of my own this weekend, though my purchases were more out of necessity to replace all the school and wardrobe items that have been hanging on by a thread, scraping by thanks to my mom’s rudimentary sewing skills. The amount of duct tape holding together my old backpack had been a point of embarrassment last year.
“Honestly, Whitney, your whole outfit is spot on,” Tori observes, then she gasps. “Does that mean you got the scholarship?”
She almost shrieks the question, making me cheeks burn self-consciously as I glance around to see if anyone’s paying attention. Aside from a few sideways glances, no one seems to care.
“Um.” My eyes flick involuntarily in Paige’s direction as I hesitate to speak the truth in front of her. “Yeah,” I lie, my voice betraying my discomfort at the thought of explaining my deal with Ilya.
“That’s cause for celebration,” Tammy says, softening as she and Tori pull me in for a new group hug.
“Uh, it’s so nice to hear about someone putting the effort into receiving aid the honest, hard-working way. It seems that most girls whose families can’t afford Rosehill just try and find a sugar daddy to pay their way.” Paige’s nose wrinkles in disgust as her tone drips with vitriol.
Suddenly, I’m intensely grateful I didn’t mention where the money really came from. I don’t normally give a shit what people think about me, but I would hate it if Paige knew and said something that might impact my friendship with the twins. Biting my tongue, I swallow the retort threatening to leap from my lips about how not all girls have Daddy’s bank account to dip into at their leisure. I have fought, tooth and nail, to try and attend Rosehill the honest way. I’ve bled my mom’s savings dry trying to follow my dream. And if I have to sleep with someone in order to pay her back in kind and forge my path to success, then I’ll be damned if I’m going to give some rich girl the satisfaction of judging me for it.
“Speaking of sugar daddies…” Tammy quips.
My stomach twists as, for a split second, I panic, thinking she might have found out about Ilya somehow.
Tori gasps. “Tammy, shush!” She throws her sister a blistering look as her face instantly turns a dark shade of red.
Tammy snickers wickedly, and Paige releases a humor-filled snort.
“Don’t tell meyouneed a sugar daddy to attend Rosehill,” Paige says incredulously, her eyes taking in Tori’s adorable designer-brand outfit.
“Nooo,” Tori objects, her face coloring further.
“Okay, maybe he wasn’t a sugar daddy, per se, but Tori had a Greekadmirer,” Tammy teases her sister.
Tori scowls at her sister. “Until he tried proposing toyoua few days later.”
“Someone proposed to you?” I ask Tammy incredulously. “Like marriage?”
