Blue Bloods

CHAPTER 14

Bliss looked up from her canvas. Their art teacher was gesturing effusively over her landscape, but she wasn't listening. Her gaze kept drifting across the room, to where Dylan was sitting.

He hadn't even made any indication that he noticed her. Sure, he was perfectly friendly whenever they bumped into each other. And that was the problem—he was simply friendly. Maybe they hadn't even kissed at the Met that afternoon after all. Maybe nothing had happened. Maybe he'd lost interest, which was a blow to her ego as well as her psyche.

It was just so unfair, especially since she was now totally obsessed with him. She was starting to think about him way too much for just a casual friend-who-wasn't-even-in-her-clique. The actor had called, the model had begged for a date, but all she could think about was the way Dylan's dark sideburns curled around his ears, and the way he'd looked at her with his big, sad eyes. She could tell he was the kind of boy who broke the rules and let anything happen, and she liked that about him. It excited her.

She watched him interact with his friends—that goth girl who'd just been chosen as a model, and that cute, skinny guy with the shaggy hair—and felt a pang of jealousy. Dylan was clowning around, throwing mud at them, but they didn't seem to mind. The three of them seemed to be having a lot of fun.

When class was over, there was a bottleneck at the door—since the stairway was so narrow, everyone had to go single file. Bliss found herself standing right next to Dylan. She smiled at him tentatively. "Hey."

"Après vous, Madame," he said gallantly, offering her the way.

She nodded her thanks, lingering to see if he would say anything else—maybe even ask her out again. But he didn't say a word. She walked down the stairs alone while he waited for his friends. She felt defeated.

After lunch with Mimi and her crew, Bliss walked down to the basement to grab books for her next class. She found Schuyler changing into her gym clothes in the hallway, standing right in front of her locker, while a bunch of other kids did the same, girls and boys alike in various stages of undress.

The school was an odd mix of luxury and penury— on the one hand, there was a state-of-the-art theater in the basement, complete with auditorium seating for two hundred, but there were no locker rooms because they didn't fit in the mansion. Students were encouraged to change in the bathrooms, but since they only had five minutes to do so, most ignored the rules and changed in the hallway to save time. The girls had perfected a removing-the-bra-through-the-side-armhole-and-putting-on-a-sports-bra-while-hiding-underneath-a-huge-T-shirt maneuver. The boys didn't even bat an eyelash.

One of the quirky things about Duchesne was that since they had all known each other since kindergarten, a sibling-like camaraderie prevailed. The teenage striptease only bothered the faculty, especially the errant history professor who happened to chance upon a half-naked junior in the hallway, eliciting malicious giggles—but there was nothing they could do to stop it. Dressing in public was just one of those odd things that was part of the Duchesne experience.

"Hey, can I talk to you for a bit?" Bliss asked, leaning against a locker and watching as Schuyler disappeared underneath an oversized sweatshirt. Being new, Bliss was one of the few girls who used the restroom to change. She couldn't quite feel as comfortable as everyone else did. Mimi, for instance, liked to parade in her La Petite Coquette bras as if she were walking on the beach in St. Tropez.

"Mfff?" Schuyler asked, a bump underneath the fabric, her elbows pointing sideways and upward in an attempt to shove herself into her gym outfit. She took off the sweatshirt with a flourish and emerged in an oversized T-shirt and baggy sweat pants.

"What's on your mind?" she asked Bliss, regarding her a little warily.

"You're friends with Dylan Ward, aren't you?"

Schuyler shrugged. "Yeah. What about him?" She checked her watch. The second bell was going to ring soon, and kids from her class were already hurrying up the stairs to the lower court gyms.

"I just—do you know him well?"

Schuyler shrugged again. She wasn't sure what Bliss was asking. Of course she knew him well. She and Oliver were his only friends.

"I've heard rumors," Bliss said, looking around to see if anyone was listening to their conversation.

"Oh yeah, what?" Schuyler raised an eyebrow. She stuffed her sweatshirt in her locker.

"Well, that he was involved in some accident with some girl in Connecticut this summer—"

"I haven't heard anything about that," Schuyler said, cutting her off. "But people around here talk about everybody. Do you really believe that story?"

Bliss looked shocked. "Not at all! I don't believe it one bit."

“Look, I should go," Schuyler said brusquely, shouldering her tennis racket and walking away.

"Hold on," Bliss called, walking next to Schuyler and hurrying to keep up as Schuyler loped up the stairs.

"What?"

"I just … I mean …" Bliss shrugged. "I'm sorry we got off on the wrong foot. My bad, okay? Can we start over? Please?"

Schuyler narrowed her eyes. The second bell rang. "I'm late," she said flatly.

"It's just, we went to the Met the other day and I thought we had a really nice time, but I don't know, he hasn't spoken to me since," Bliss explained. "Do you know if he has a girlfriend or anything?"

Schuyler sighed. If she was late for class her grandmother would get a note. Duchesne didn't have anything like «detention»; the only punishments it meted out were tattletale notes home to overly involved parents who would commit hara-kiri if their kids didn't get into Harvard. She looked at Bliss, taking in her nervous demeanor and hopeful smile.

Reluctantly, Schuyler came to the conclusion that maybe Bliss wasn't one of those Mimi clones after all. She didn't have pin-straight blond hair or sport an obnoxious "Team Force" insignia on her gym hoodie like the rest of Mimi's gang, for one. "As far as I know, he isn't dating anybody. He did mention meeting someone the other night at a club…" Schuyler allowed finally, watching Bliss's reaction.

Bliss blushed.

"I thought so." Schuyler nodded. Against her better judgment, she found herself relenting. If Dylan had taken her to the Met, Bliss really couldn't be all bad. Schuyler wasn't sure Mimi would even know what the Met was. Mimi's life revolved around shopping and getting into VIP rooms. She probably thought "the Met" was some kind of nightclub.

"If you want my advice, take it easy on him. I think he really likes you," she said, giving Bliss a sympathetic smirk.

"He does? I mean, he's talked about me?"

Schuyler rolled her shoulders. "It's really none of my business," she said, hesitating.

"What?"

"Well, I doubt he'd mind if you asked him to the fall dance. He probably would never even think of going himself, but he might go if you asked."

Bliss smiled. The dance was tomorrow night. She could do that. Her parents would have to let her go—it was a school event, and there were bound to be tons of chaperones there to appease their anxiety. "Thanks."

"No problem," Schuyler said, running up the stairs without giving Bliss a backward glance.

Struck by the idea, Bliss scribbled a quick note and tore off the paper from her binder. She carefully removed all the broken bits on the side, spritzed it with her perfume, and stuffed it in Dylan's locker.

She was shocked at her brazenness. She had never needed to pursue a boy before. But there's always a first time for everything.