The Viscount's Daughter - [A Treadwell Academy - 03] by Caitlyn Duffy

Author:Caitlyn Duffy [Duffy, Caitlyn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2012-08-26T00:06:19+00:00

CHAPTER 10

“So, about the Fall Fling.”

Nicola stood at the end of our dining hall table at Colgate on Tuesday night, and the conversation I was having with Chloe came to an abrupt halt as we both turned our heads toward her. She held her tray of food and stared directly at me, completely ignoring Chloe as if she wasn’t even sitting right there.

“I think you’ll wear the beaded gown. You’ll come to my room after dinner on Friday and we’ll walk over to the Gaffin Center together,” Nicola informed me. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Chloe raising an eyebrow at me, humored by Nicola’s bossy tone.

“Sounds good,” I told Nicola.

She nodded, and left us to continue our dinner. Having spent more than twenty-four hours on campus at that point, it was already abundantly clear that the social rules of dinner time were unique to that meal. During breakfast and lunch, the cafeteria had been far less crowded, and the rules defining who sat at which tables were nonexistent.

“Fall Fling?” Chloe asked me dubiously. She stabbed a steak fry with her fork and dunked it in a dollop of ketchup. “You do realize that’s bunch of totally immature boys standing around in suits that don’t fit, while some cheesy DJ plays songs by All or Nothing, and Mr. Ferris, the band leader, tries to get people to mingle and dance, like a big goober?”

I cringed. I expected as much. Nicola had this notion that the Fall Fling was going to be the social event of the year. Like, as significant as the Expose Magazine Oscar after-party or something. In the brief amount of time I had spent with her, she had shared some sensationalized ideas about American culture. This dance on Friday night with the boys who attended St. John’s Academy, who would presumably be delivered to our campus via a big dorky yellow bus (not unlike prisoners being transported from one jail to another), had materialized in her head like some kind of wild night at a nightclub. Although I had seen on flyers promoting the dance around campus that indicated curfew would be extended until 11 P.M. on Friday, the extension hardly made the event qualify as a potential “wild” night, in my opinion.

“It might be fun,” I said. “Aren’t you going?”

“As if!” Chloe snorted, taking a giant swig of soda through her straw.

That night, I actually caught a quick glimpse of Kristijan online, but urged him to text chat with me instead of video chat since it was becoming painfully obvious that Kate rarely left the room. I put headphones on and listened to him tell me all the latest, but typed my replies. He was settling into his first week at his own new school, where unlike my situation, his classes were easier than they’d been in Croatia, and he had his own private room. Seeing him made me strangely homesick, only not for home, obviously, but for something else I couldn’t really put my finger on.

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