Jet Set by Carrie Karasyov Page B

place is probably pretty feeble,” he said.
    I smiled. I liked that he had a sense of humor. “Totally. I mean, the fact that they only have one maid per room? What kind of a school is this?”
    Antony looked at me, at first surprised, but then he smiled. “Right. Never thought of that.”
    â€œI mean, what am I supposed to do when it’s her break? Pick up my clothes myself?” I said, continuing to joke. The absurdityof this place was now hitting me.
    â€œI know, right? I am the biggest slob. I need someone to look after me at all times!”
    â€œAnd what’s up with the heavy textbooks? Couldn’t they find someone to carry them for us? And the sheets! They may say the thread count is four hundred, but it feels like two hundred to me.”
    â€œI’m astonished! Really?” said Antony, looking mock horrified.
    I clucked my tongue dramatically. “Yup, there’s no place like home, I tell you. No place like home.”
    â€œWell, your home must be pretty spectacular,” he said, taking my hand. He rubbed his thumb against my palm and squeezed, sending shivers to the tips of my toes. We were in front of my dorm now, and I knew that there might be people in the lounge who would be witness to this, but I didn’t care.
    â€œIt is,” I almost whispered, caught up by the intense look in his eyes.
    â€œI’d love to see it sometime,” he said softly, leaning in close. I felt woozy.
    â€œSure” was all I could squeak out.
    â€œWell, bye now,” he said gently, with a final hand squeeze.
    â€œBye,” I said.
    I watched him walk away down the path. He turned around once and waved, and I blushed, embarrassed that he knew I was watching him go. It was so surreal for me to have this cute guy in a tweed blazer and gray flannels, the picture of elegance, be into me. I couldn’t believe my luck.

Chapter Nineteen
    â€œS o are you with Antony now?” asked Iman, her arms folded in a huff and her eyebrows raised. I knew I had felt someone’s eyes on me through the curtains.
    â€œNo, um, I mean, we’re friends.”
    â€œFirst you go for Oliver, and now his arch nemesis? You really try to get around,” she said snidely.
    What was she implying? So many girls and guys here were hooking up, why was I being singled out for “getting around”? Pathetic.
    â€œThat’s so not the case, but whatever. And what’s your problem, anyway?” I asked, feeling quite brave.
    Iman seemed genuinely shocked that I dared question her. “No problem,” she said evenly. “Just noticing.”
    I was dying to ask her about the background of Oliver and Antony being enemies, but I didn’t want to engage her with any more conversation. Instead I stomped up the steps toward Sofia’s room and knocked on the door.
    â€œCome in,” she called.
    â€œI’m fed up with those Diamonds! They know how to ruin every good moment!” I practically yelled as I slammed the door. Sofia’s mouth curled into a smile.
    â€œWhat’ve they done now, love?”
    â€œIman is implying I’m a slut. She says I am flirting with Oliver and Antony, which is a total lie!”
    â€œWhy, are you into Oliver? Or Antony? Or both?”
    â€œNo! How could I be? Oliver’s a friggin’ prince, and he’s totally unavailable—it’s not like I’d ever go for him. And Antony—I’m not sure yet. But why do they even care?”
    â€œBecause they’re bored, sad girls who have nothing better to do. I told you, they’re awful!”
    â€œMeanwhile,” I probed, “do you know anything about Oliver and Antony? Some kind of falling-out?”
    She whipped around. “No. What is it?”
    I immediately regretted that I’d said anything. Now I never knew when I was talking to Sofia as a friend or as a spy for Gab! “I don’t know,” I said lamely. “Iman