Is Bridgeport big enough for Kae, Robyn, Alex and Jasmine? They're all beautiful, captivating, and a little bit crazy... but there can be only one It Girl.
[ Based on the It Girl series by Cecily Von Ziegesar ]
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Of all the things Jasmine had done at Bridgeport (many involving alcohol, some involving drugs, almost all involving boys) she had not once sneaked into a boy's dorm room—or, at least, not alone. And certainly not a freshman's dorm room, not even as a freshman. But desperate times called for desperate measures. Around nine o'clock, just as the carpet-munching meeting was winding down, Jasmine slipped into a pair of dark jeans and pulled on her thick black fleece over her tissue-thin white T-shirt, zipping it up all the way so that she could sort of disappear in the dark—her cloak of invisibility. As she dropped out her window, her rarely used vegan hiking boots (a Christmas gift from her vegetarian father) sinking softly into the mulchy dirt, she felt a thrill of excitement. All right, so she didn't exactly need to sneak out her window, since it wasn't curfew yet...but it made things so much more exciting if she felt like she was being devious.
Wolcott, the freshman boys' dorm, was on the far side of Richardson, and Jasmine felt doubly amused at herself for not only sneaking into a boys' dorm room, but for choosing a freshman over all the other able-bodied upperclassmen who would certainly be more than willing to open their windows for her. Which is kind of why she was even more excited by the fact that she was sneaking over to see Rakim when, for whatever reason, he hadn't come to her the past two times. She felt like he kind of, well, understood her. Knew that she got bored easily, and was presenting her with a challenge.
She stood outside his window and tried to peek in, unable to peer over the windowsill. A light was on and the shade was half pulled down. Jasmine broke a thin branch off a nearby tree and stood on her tiptoes, tapping it gently against the glass. A face appeared and the window flew open—but it wasn't Rakim. Instead, it was some greasy-haired punk kid who was clearly trying to look more grown up than he was by letting a beard grow in. Unfortunately, his face wasn't really up for the challenge, and his growth was patchy at best. His jaw dropped at the sight of her. "What the?" Then his eyes lit up. "Hey? Are you—heyyyyyyyyy!" He was abruptly cut off as Rakim shoved him aside and looked out the window. He looked flustered, to say the least.
"Hey. What's up? What're you...doing here?"
Not exactly the reaction she'd expected. Jasmine straightened, feeling a little insulted. Maybe he should bring back his roommate—dork that he was, at least he was excited to see her. Jasmine took a step backward. "I thought I'd drop by," she responded icily. "But if you're busy, don't worry about it. I'll see you some other time."
A smile broke across Rakim's face. "I didn't mean it like that." He glanced over his shoulder then leaned forward. "Look, go down to the corner window, okay? Some kid on the floor left this week, and the room's empty. I'll meet you there in, like, twenty seconds, okay?"
Jasmine smiled weakly. "Kay." He was definitely going to have to do some kissing and making up after that reception. But she couldn't help feeling excited as she stealthily walked along the wall and counted down four windows. Almost immediately, the window opened, and Rakim stretched out his hand to help pull her in.
