The “boosters,” I assumed, were the St. Sophia’s alumni who’d be donating a pretty penny so the juniors and seniors could have a luxe fall formal.
“Make the call,” John said. “And let us know.”
“Rest assured that I will,” Veronica said, then glanced at the clock on the wall behind her. “That didn’t take nearly as long as it should have. Anything else we should discuss right now, unless any of you are dorky enough to want to go back to history class?”
I guess I wasn’t supposed to be flattered that M.K. turned and looked at me.
“Drinks. Food. Transportation. Dress code,” Amie recited.
Veronica rattled off responses: “Drinks and food will depend on the location. The Field Museum probably has some kind of contract with a caterer. Limos for the transpo, and the dress code will be formal.”
“Looks like you have things well in hand,” John said.
“I always do. If there aren’t any more questions, let’s break into subcommittees and get into the details.”
We all just looked at each other. Even M.K. looked confused. “V, you haven’t assigned any subcommittees.”
“They’re DIY subcommittees,” she said. “And if you don’t DIY, we have to go back to class.”
She stood there for a few seconds to let the implication sink in.
“Subcommittees it is,” John said, pushing back his chair and standing up. “My subcommittee’s meeting over here.”
“And what’s your subcommittee?” Amie asked, pen in hand.
“That would be the subcommittee on rocking. Rocking hard.”
I bit back a snort.
The girls divvied up their committees—decorations, food, etc.—and then everyone began milling around. I walked over to the Montclare side of the table.
After all, how often did we get a daytime visit from the boys in blue?
John Creed smiled in his way: a lazy half smile. “Hello, Sagamore.”
“Hello, Chicago.”
“You and Jason became fast friends.” He slid a glance to Jason, who was talking to one of the other girls. Since I’d been in Adept-denial at the time, I’d pretended not to know Jason the day I met John Creed. (I know, I know. I’d apologized later.)
“We’ve gotten to know each other,” I said vaguely. “I’m surprised you’re into party planning.”
“I’m into skipping class and spending time with private school girls.”
Mm-hmm. “Well, good luck with that.”
“Are you two going to Sneak together?”
I tried for a casual tone. “I don’t know. We haven’t really talked about it.”
His thick eyebrows lifted. “Really? Weird.”
“Have you invited someone?”
He scanned the girls in the room. “I’m keeping my options open. One never knows when opportunity is going to come knocking.” When his gaze landed on M.K., I tried not to grimace. I also bet money that Veronica was not going to be happy with that.
With perfect timing, Jason interrupted further discussion of whatever brat-pack
“knocking” John was going to pretend to hear.
“So,” Jason said, “if you’re handing out rides on the yacht . . .”
“We can probably arrange something,” John said, then glanced at me. “Have you been out on the lake yet?”
“There’s a lake?”
It took him a second to realize I was joking. “Tell me they let you out more than that.”
“They let me out plenty.” Just not usually aboveground, and usually after the sun went down. “And no, I haven’t been on the lake yet. Or the river either, actually, now that I think about it.”
“We definitely need to remedy that. It won’t be long before winter’s here and the boat’s in dry dock. And then you’ll get to experience your first Chicago winter.”
“Winters in Sagamore were plenty wintry,” I pointed out.
“I’m sure. Add thirty-miles-per-hour wind to that, and you’ll get closer to Chicago.”
He watched M.K. brush her hair over her shoulder, and then he was off, heading right for St. Sophia’s least saintly girl.
I glanced over at Veronica, and watched her face tighten with the realization that her crush had picked a different victim.
“Hello, Sagamore.”
I glanced up at Jason, and his mocking of John Creed’s apparent nickname for me, and smiled. “Hello, Naperville.” I gestured toward Creed. “Are you two friends?
I can’t get a read on him.”
Jason shrugged. “We’re friends of a sort, I guess. We’ve known each other for a long time, but we’re not close like Michael and I are. Creed’s the kind of person who pretty much always has an agenda. That doesn’t exactly make for a strong friendship.”
“More like a business alliance,” I said.
John lifted M.K.’s wrist to take a look at her watch. Since he had his own undoubtedly expensive version, I figured it was just an excuse to touch her.
“Looks like he’s getting along with her pretty well,” Jason said.
I nodded. “That’s M.K. Problem is, I think her BFF has a thing for him.” I gestured toward Veronica, who was talking to one of the other Montclare boys while sliding secretive glances at Creed. She definitely had it bad. On the other hand, Garcia definitely seemed to be off the hook.
“Bummer,” Jason said. “Nobody likes to be the one left out.”