All I've Never Wanted(6)

Dr. Wollensky looked up, obviously startled. With her short silver hair and sleek black Prada suit, she looked astonishingly like Meryl Streep in Devil Wears Prada.

"Can I help you?" she asked, somewhat rudely. She obviously didn't appreciate Adriana just barging in like this.

Wow, she even has the same British accent, Adriana thought fleetingly, before she snapped back to the task at hand and gave Dr. Wollensky a polite but warning smile. "Of course," she said smoothly. "I would like the draft of this year's yearbook."

Now Dr. Wollensky looked at her like she was crazy. "A draft of this year's yearbook?" She let out a short laugh. "That's not going to happen."

"I think it will," Adriana countered, her voice saccharine-sweet.

The administrator narrowed her eyes. "Now listen here, young lady, I don't know who you think you are, barging into my office like this in the first place, and now you want me to hand over a confidential document? That's not going to happen on my watch."


Adriana almost laughed out loud. Confidential document? Jesus Christ, this was a yearbook they were talking about, and not even a finished version at that. It didn't exactly contain a threat to national security.

"What is your name?" Dr. Wollensky demanded, pen at the ready. To scribble out a detention notice, no doubt.

Adriana leaned casually against the doorway. "Adriana Perry," she replied, her tone conveying the idea she could not be more bored with the whole thing.

Panic immediately washed over Dr. Wollensky's Botoxed face.

"The daughter of David Perry?" she asked slowly, visibly gulping.

"Yes." Adriana couldn't help a note of smugness from creeping into her tone. She did not mind lording her 'power' over Dr. Wollensky at all, though she did feel a bit bad about the assistant.

"Oh, well." Dr. Wollensky hastily stood up. "Of course. I'll go get what you need right away," she promised.

Barely two minutes passed before she came back, a thick, bound stack of paper tucked discreetly under her arm. "Here's the copy," she said. "I'm so sorry about earlier. I had no idea…"

"Of course not." Adriana took the book and tucked it into her bag. "Well, I appreciate your help."

With that, she sauntered out of the office at the same moment the bell signaling the end of lunch rang.

"Dang," Adriana muttered under her breath. She'd been hoping to go over some of the pictures before fourth period, but that was obviously not happening. Unlike Zack, she tried to miss as little class as possible.

She would just have to continue her “mission” later.

* * *

"God, I love the food on the first day of school," Venice said, taking a huge bite of her gourmet burger. She closed her eyes in gastronomic delight. "If I ate like this every day, I'd be 300 pounds by now."

"You do eat like this every day," I pointed out, unscrewing the cap of my Voss. Trust Valesca to even have fancy water.

"I'm not talking about the quality, I'm talking about the quantity," Venice explained. "Not that my mom would let me eat so much anyways." She rolled her eyes.

Venice's mom is a former model, and even though she had retired over a decade ago, she was still super conscious about her—and her daughter's—appearance.

"Oh." I took a sip of my water and glanced around the DC. It had been spruced up over the summer, and looked more like a high-end restaurant than a cafeteria. It was also noticeably lacking one component.

The Scions' table, the closest to the slanted glass wall overlooking the campus' lushly landscaped grounds, was empty.

Their lack of presence was obviously felt by everyone else in the DC. The girls looked glum they couldn't throw themselves at the four's feet and the guys looked both relieved and disappointed that their idols weren't here for comparison.

"Oh, I almost forgot!" Venice leaned over the table excitedly, her gray eyes sparkling with excitement. "What are you doing this Saturday night?"

"Why?" I asked warily. Things never turned out well whenever she asked me that question with that look in her eyes.

"Just answer me," she insisted.

Definitely not a good sign. I was about to say I had promised my family I'd go to dinner with them when she added, "And don't bother using that tired old family dinner excuse. In case you've forgotten, you told me your dad's away on a business trip until next Monday."

Damn it! This is one of those moments when I definitely regret telling her so much. "I guess I'm not doing anything," I admitted grudgingly. I hadn't realized how hard it is to come up with a believable excuse on the spot until today.

"Good." Venice beamed. "Stan Hoffman's having a party at his house and you're coming with."

"What? No way!"

"Why not?" she pouted. "You already said you're not doing anything."

"Because…what if I have a lot of homework due or something?" I argued feebly. It sounded lame even to my ears.

Venice gave me a cross look. "Maya Lindberg, you are a healthy, 17-year-old teenage girl. You do not need to do homework on a Saturday night and miss the school year's first party!"

"But the Scions might be there," I pointed out a bit desperately. "Like you said, it's the first party, and they're bound to be there."