Love the One You're With by Cecily von Ziegesar Page B

For as long as he remembered, it had always been the triplets and their mom.
     Now, all of a sudden, this guy was telling them where to vacation and how to get there. What the fuck?. “It’s just, they just
     started dating, and all of a sudden, we’re going on a family vacation. I feel like the next thing they’ll do is get married.”
     A shiver ran down Owen’s spine.
Would
they get married?
    What happens in the Bahamas, stays in the Bahamas….
    Rhys shrugged. “Dude, I know, it sucks. But maybe he’ll be cool once you get to know him,” he offered lamely.
    “Yeah.” Owen didn’t want to talk about Remington anymore. “Anyway, who cares, right? Fuck it,” he said with false conviction.
     “We’ll just do our own thing this weekend. Aka getting
laid
,” Owen finished.
    The spiky-haired steward who’d refused to serve them alcohol stopped mid-step and glared at them. “Please keep your voices
     down—some of our passengers are trying to sleep,” he hissed as he pushed his beverage cart further down the aisle.
    “Sorry.” Owen shrugged.
    “I can’t wait to meet some new girls,” Rhys said a little unconvincingly. He couldn’t stop sneaking glances toward Avery,
     who looked hot even when she was smushed into the middle seat, in coach.
    “Yeah, man. It’s going to be legendary!” Owen nodded. He needed to forget about his mom and her freaky-ass boyfriend. There
     was work to be done: His buddy
needed
to lose his V card.
    Ever since Owen and Kelsey had broken up, things had been
almost
back to normal between him and Rhys. But there were still tense moments, like when the topic of sex came up in the locker
     room, or Hugh Moore made some inappropriate comment about the time Rhys had walked in on Owen and Kelsey together. But if
     Owen helped Rhys find someone to lose it to, they could put it all behind them. They’d be on the same page, ready to go back
     to New York as equals. It was the perfect plan.
    As long as it doesn’t become a
family
plan.

j needs a challenge
    Jack strode into Barneys later that morning, her brand-new only-available-in-France five-inch black suede Christian Louboutin
     ankle booties—which her mother had shipped to her in a fit of obvious maternal guilt—clacking loudly against the ultra-polished
     floor. Even though it was only 11 a.m., the aisles around the handbag displays surrounding the entrance were already buzzing
     with Eurotrashy tourists.
    She ignored the Balenciaga and Marc Jacobs displays and confidently made a left toward the elevator bank. She was on a mission,
     and that mission was to get ready for Operation:
Do It
, tomorrow night.
    Jack pushed the button firmly with her petal-polished finger. Now that she’d finally gotten her credit cards back from her
     father, after an embarrassing three months of being cut off, she had to make up for lost time. And of course, she’d come to
     Barneys, her favorite place on earth. When Jack was in fourth grade, she’d written a report on the children’s book
From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler
, which was all about two kids who stay overnight in the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Jack had written about how much
better
it would have been if the kids had spent the night in Barneys. The fourth-grade teacher, Mrs. Gherke, whom everyone called
     Mrs. Jerk and whose hair was always styled in a dykey bowl cut, had made her redo the report. But sometimes Jack still wished
     she could get trapped at Barneys overnight.
    The door to the elevator opened and Jack stepped on, squeezing between several women wearing fur coats that doubled their
     body mass. Just as she pressed the door-closed button, two girls run-walked up to the elevator and shoved on.
    “Hey! You’re here. Why didn’t you tell us where you were?” Genevieve demanded. Jack could smell smoke on her breath.
    “I thought we were meeting outside,” Jiffy seconded. “Even though it’s freezing.” She theatrically pulled off her purple