Trouble is a Friend of Mine

‘I don’t get it. Marina’s father’s running too? Is everyone here running a political campaign?’ I said.

‘Just everyone rich. Look, Princeton, River Heights is lousy with old money … like, old before-George-Washington Dutch New York money … when it was Breukelen and Bronck, not Brooklyn and Bronx. Like Sloane’s last name is actually van der Bloom. They dropped the van der part when Sloane’s grandfather ran for senator. They didn’t want people knowing how blue their blood was.’

‘Marina’s family too?

‘No, they’re run-of-the-mill twentieth-century rich. They subcontract to the defense facilities.’

‘Ugh … these people run this country …’

‘You know, Princeton, you were actually winning until the whole finger thing. It’s only going to get worse if you let her see she’s getting to you.’

‘Why does she keep coming after me, anyway?’

‘Well, number one, she goes after everyone. Mean-girling’s her hobby. You’re not that special. Well, except maybe, number two, she hates you because she can’t get Henry to stop hanging around you. That makes her look bad,’ Digby said.

That made me feel good. ‘So what am I supposed to do?’

‘Well, are you willing to curl up and die or get out of town? No? Then you’ll just have to win a few and lose a few until she gets tired of you and moves on.’

‘That’s some plan.’

‘By the way, not to burst your bubble or anything, but I should tell you that Henry isn’t doing what you hope he’s doing and what Sloane’s afraid he’s doing.’

‘Which is what?’

‘I mean, you’re probably thinking, Henry chooses me in some kissy-kissy Beauty and the Beast way.’

‘Beauty and the Beast? Am I supposed to be the Beast in this scenario? I don’t understand your reference.’

‘Beauty and the Beast. Wasn’t there a rose in that?’

‘Um, yeah …’

‘And he had to get a kiss from a rose by the grave?’

‘Wow … the Seal song? Were we even born when that song came out?’

‘And then he had to give the rose to the woman he picked, which, in this case, you’re hoping is you.’

‘Okay, now, that is The Bachelor,’ I said. ‘Seriously, you need to pick one channel and just watch something all the way through.’

‘The point is, that isn’t what’s going on here. This is more like bros before hos,’ he said.

‘I hate that saying on so many levels.’

‘Because Henry’s going out with Sloane.’

‘I know. I don’t care.’

‘You don’t care. You’re not crying into your pillow at night?’ he said.

‘Shut up.’

‘Because if us three are going to hang out –’

‘Really.’ I hoped I was telling the truth, because he was right. There’s nothing sadder than hanging out with someone who doesn’t care you’re dying of a crush on them the whole time.

‘I want to believe you …’ he said.

‘Seriously. I’m over it,’ I said. ‘Can we move on now?’

Digby still looked dubious, so I moved on first.

‘Now what?’ I said.

In the parking lot were four limousines with drivers sitting in them.

‘Those two are rentals,’ Digby said. ‘Leaving us those two …’

‘May I contribute?’ I said. ‘That driver’s way too young and good-looking. No way Sloane’s parents let that guy drive her around.’

By process of elimination, we landed on the limo with the tired middle-aged driver reading the paper.

Digby dumped the taco bag on his way to the limo. I tried to copy the confident swagger-y way he opened the door and slipped into the seat, still licking his fingers.

‘Hi. Sloane said you’d take us home,’ Digby said. ‘She’ll ride with Mrs Bloom.’

The driver snapped his paper shut and eyed us in the mirror.

‘But Mrs Bloom’s going straight to the benefit and Miss Bloom specifically said she wasn’t attending,’ the driver said. ‘She was very clear.’

‘That’s what I said, but she told me to shut up and butt out,’ Digby said.

The driver put the car in gear. ‘Sounds like her …’

After we pulled out onto the interstate and relaxed into the drive, Digby started his spiel.

‘I’m Digby. Sloane didn’t tell us your name.’

‘Doubt she knows it. John.’

‘Nice to meet you, John,’ Digby said. ‘I hope this isn’t rude, but I got to ask. Is it weird working for a kid? “Miss Bloom”? Seriously?’

John laughed. ‘Yeah, my daughter’s just two years older than Miss Bloom. Ashley lives with her mom in Chicago.’

‘That’s too bad,’ Digby said. ‘You must miss her.’

‘Yeah, she’s a good kid. Works two part-time jobs and still finds time to volunteer at the shelter,’ John said. ‘I don’t get to see her as much as I want, but me and her mom are putting away what we can for college.’