Hometown Happenings: The Bumble Party

The door to the billiards room opened as two balls clanked together. An elegant ivory-white dress appeared as a woman with long, light brown hair and large breasts stepped into the room, her dark brown eyes scanning the room's occupants. Her arms raised slightly in frustration as she realized the room only held one man: her husband.

“Quillan,” Flavia Falkenburg hissed. Immediately, the brown-haired beauty glanced in concern behind her before closing the door in discretion. With the barrier in place, her voice raised in volume. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” the man with short auburn replied with his own question before taking a sip from his glass. To his wife’s abject horror, Quillan placed the glass back down on the edge of the pool table.

“Don’t do—Are you insane? That will leave a ring!” Flavia exclaimed, rushing over on her high heels to snatch the glass off the wood.

Placing the sweating glass on the nearby bartop, the only reply to her point came from two more balls clanking together. Turning around, Flavia saw her husband lining up yet another shot in his solo game.

“What are you doing in here? Sulking? This is our party, Quillan. You need to be presenting yourself as a good host. Think of how it looks if no one has talked to their host. Appearances matter!”

"Yes, I know they do, Flave. That's why my appearance should be downtown at the ball," Quillan stated bitterly while slamming the cue stick into the ball. The added **** sent the Number 7 ball careening over the table's edge and onto the floor.

Flavia's gaze followed long enough to ensure the off-the-table ball didn't cause any damage. Once satisfied, she turned her attention back to her husband.

“So it’s acting like a temper tantrum-throwing child because you didn’t get your way, is it?” she asked sternly.

“I should be at the ball,” Quillan declared heatedly before losing steam. “I liked Cassie.”

“Yes, I know. However, you have–”

“No, you really don’t know. You didn’t go to school with us, Flave,” Quillan pointed out wistfully. “Being away at Thornapple Academy meant you never saw all the little things Cass did for everybody. That’s why tonight matters.”

“Fine,” Flavia sighed. “I might not quite get what she meant to everyone. However, I do know what this party means to our family. That means you have responsibilities here tonight.”

Located on the southwest side of Honey Hollow, Bumble Boulevard has been the wealthiest neighborhood since its construction. Over time, its inhabitants came to represent the city's blue-blooded society. And within its privileged society, a pecking order of prestige and wealth developed.

Nearly all of the first-tier families lived on the main boulevard, with second and third-tier families residing on the blocks on either side of Bumble. Long viewed as the most prominent second-tier family, the Falkenburgs lived in a mansion facing the side street on the corner of Bumble and Larva Lane. The Falkenburg family position wasn't a matter that ever concerned Quillan. However, it deeply affected his wife.

One of the oldest Bumble families, the Le Leys owned a mansion in a desired location on the boulevard. Location seemed to be all that Flavia’s family still had going for it these days. Once a prominent first-tier family, the Le Ley’s had dropped to the bottom of the third tier during her lifetime. A series of financial misfortunes and personal scandals led to their humiliating downfall.

So, while her sister, Narcissa, married into the first-tier Seckler family, Flavia strived to elevate her husband's family to the highest level for the sake of her children and future grandchildren. And if the Falkenburgs became the premier family, then that could only help the Le Leys rise again. One failure in Flavia's plan occurred when Olena Olesky bested Quilla in the vote as leader for this year's Bumble Girls. Any more setbacks wouldn't be tolerated.

“Responsibilities? Ha!” Quillan scoffed. He moved in preparation for another shot, but Flavia’s hand, grabbing the cue stick, stopped his distraction.

“Yes, you have them! Not to mention setting an example for your children,” Flavia proclaimed before bringing up a topic that had vexed her for weeks. “It’s bad enough that Quilla isn’t even here to learn how to be the future hostess of these events.”

“She wanted to honor Cassandra,” Quillan replied, showing that was enough in his mind for her to skip their annual holiday party. His overriding his wife to allow Quilla to attend the ball had been a contentious issue around the house.

“She wasn’t even her teacher,” Flavia responded.

"As if Quilla would ever let us forget that. Remember when she enlisted Paige Noble to write a petition to get her transferred from Mrs. Putnam's first-grade class into Cassie's?"

“I remember the week-long tantrum because she couldn’t be in that damn nutrition play,” Flavia recalled, bringing her hand up to her face. “She refused to eat ice cream for months because Lux played the part.”

“Oh, Lux loved to dig that needle in, too. She’d go on and on about how delicious each flavor could be,” Quillan chuckled.

“Still, Quilla should be here tonight with her friends,” Flavia stated.

Left unsaid was the generous donation they gave to the new charity. One far more generous than Flavia felt was necessary. The whole ball and charity had drawn battle lines in the family, with her husband taking some small comfort in their daughter being able to attend. Quillan's favorite comment of the month was that their donation needed to be hand-delivered.

"What friends? Cheyenne and Lux are at the ball," her father pointed out. Then, he added wistfully, "So are my friends."

"Don't get started again, Quill," Flavia warned, glancing at the wall clock. "We fought hard to get the annual New Year's Eve party after the Thirlbys gave it up."

“Sela didn’t give it up for nothing, Flave. She finally realized why her mom hated hosting seasonal Bumble parties, and Serena loved to play hostess.”

“It’s a tradition dating back to the earliest days of this neighborhood,” Flavia reminded. “And we’re damn lucky that Basil hates socializing. He could’ve made a fuss about it being his right as a Thirlby.

“Ian and Bailey got smart young and never seemed big on Bumble bullshit.”

“Watch what you say!” Flavia scolded, glancing to make sure the doors were still shut tight.

“Hey, we could always insist on giving the party to Cillian. I’m sure he’d take it off our hands for one year,” Quillan cracked. “Who wouldn’t want to allow our former district attorney back into the Bumble lifestyle?”

“Yes, I’m sure he’d love to make his grand return. And there would be a bowl for keys on the table, no doubt,” Flavia replied, glowering at her husband. Everyone in town knew about the ex-district attorney’s past wife-swapping and key parties. “The party is ours, and we’re not giving it up.”

“Gawd, I hate this party! It’s got to be the worst New Year’s Eve party in the city. Don’t give me that look. It is the worst party, and I know a thing or two about parties.”

“Ah, yes, Partyburg, wasn’t it?” Flavia asked sarcastically.

"Don't mock me, dear. You only got this precious party because of the reputation I earned…well, Tessa helped, too. My parties were legendary," Quillan boasted.

“Yes, I know. You grabbed that high-school house-party mantle from the Penfolds and never gave it up. Or at least until you were off at college.”

“Laugh it up, prep school skirt,” Quillan responded. “Weren’t my social skills part of your attraction to me?”

"It did have a certain charm," Flavia admitted, patting her husband's cheek. "Yet, you tend to overexaggerate about those high school parties. I did attend a few."

“Summer break ones don’t count. Hold up! I know you were around during my junior year for New Year's Eve party. You were the naughty princess sneaking out of the Bumble party to hang out with the riffraff. People still say that was the craziest New Year’s Eve party ever in town.”

“You say riffraff with far too much pride, honey,” Flava said, shaking her head.

“Let me throw the party I want and then see how your standing with the neighborhood shoots up,” Quillan reminded her.

"Yes, call up Danilo Carrillo and have him set up his booth again. What creative moniker did he call himself? DJ Rillo? Shall we use your old jerry-rigged sound system as well?"

“Jerry-rigged my ass! That was top-notch work by Danny and me,” Quillan defended. “Besides, you know that’s not in this house. It’s in the one by the harbor. Say…maybe Tessa can let us borrow her–”

“No!” Flavia interrupted. “You’re not a teenager hosting keggers anymore.”

“Like you’ve seen a true kegger,” Quillan mumbled, and his wife ignored him.

“We’re adults and will host a respectable gathering.”

"You mean boring. You know this party sucks, right? Well, it does, Flave! Almost half of our guests are older than our parents. And you notice my parents aren't here, right? They rightly know to get the hell out of town as an excuse for not showing up. Tessa, too!"

“First off, Quillan, half of our guests are not older than our parents. Second, your parents have always traveled. And finally, Quintessa didn’t skip this party. She’s banned from Bumble events, and you know that.”

“It should be The Narcissist who’s banned,” her husband responded.

“Don’t call my sister that,” Flavia replied.

“If the shoe fits.”

“Enough. Stop sulking and get back to your party. You need to entertain our guests,” Flavia ordered.

“The only entertainment at these parties is when Gassy Golphin gets liquored up enough to start running his mouth. The man knows where the skeletons are buried,” Quillan chuckled.

“Elyse promised to have a word with Dashiell about his uncle,” his wife revealed, walking toward the door.

“Like that’s going to stop Gaston,” Quillan muttered, placing the cue on the rack.

“Have you seen Quade?”Flavia asked before opening the door.

“Not since dinner.”

"Hmm, that's the last time I saw him," Flavia said, frowning.

“Don’t tell me that your little angel escaped from this prison?” Quillan questioned in mock horror.

“Quade wouldn’t embarrass me like your daughter.”

“My daughter? Oh, you really must be mad at her for going to the ball,” Quillan said as a new thought formed. “Let’s see if she really takes after me. Or have you forgotten that Quilla has a whole penthouse suite to herself at the Witzler?”

“She better not,” Flavia growled about the possibilities before opening the door.

---

“Such a shameful turnout this year,” Alma Noble stated, her voice dripping with layers of disappointment, disgust, and accusation. “Perhaps granting this event to the Falkenburgs was a mistake.”

“Too much responsibility for such a minor family,” Cressida Primrose declared. “New Year’s Eve is an important Bumble tradition that should’ve stayed within the Wynwick branches if the Thirlbys wanted to give it away. My family would’ve proudly accepted the honor and responsibility.”

“But you’re not a Wynwick, Cressy,” Tilda Tuppence pointed out, her squeaky voice shouting to the world about her ditziness.

“I meant Paris,” Cressida reminded. Her daughter-in-law may have been born a Burnett, but Paris Primrose was the granddaughter of a Wynwick. “She and Carter would’ve made fine hosts.”

The three women and a distracted Mavis Milligan stood in a corner in the Falkenburg sitting room. All were in their mid-to-late sixties and had once been great beauties nearly a half-century ago. Of the four, only Tilda Tuppence didn't care for the Bumble hierarchy or the Bumble Girls, even if she had once been one.

"Flavia was granted this honor, not Quillan," Alma recounted. "Some among the older families wish the Le Leys could reverse their downfall."

“Why? The Le Leys have only themselves to blame. Perhaps no one will say it to her face, but Narcissa may be the worst Bumble Girl leader in our history,” Cressida whispered.

“Did Flavia ever get in trouble?” Tilda asked. She was ignored.

“There have been worse,” Alma declared, drawing on her vast knowledge of the social club’s history.

"That's up for a debate. What isn't is that Narcissa acted like an empress on her faraway throne in Regal Crest. Because of her, the unofficial ban on Bumble Girls leading while attending out-of-town schools was imposed. And it was made official after that series of scandals with her younger cousins," Cressida argued.

“The Miss Naughty stuff?” Tilda queried.

“It’s Miss Nosy, Tillie,” Cressida corrected.

“Spending time reading gossip trash, Cressida?” Alma mocked.

“That Nosy Nectar made up vicious lies about my grandson. It seemed to have a grudge against Chase.”

A cold, calculating woman, Cressida shifted the topic to press the issue of hosting the annual party once again. She tried to casually mention the possibility of changing the hosting duties. That’s when Mavis returned to the conversation after sending off her granddaughter, Mercedes Melrose, with instructions about proper etiquette.

“Indeed. Hosting the seasonal parties is such an honor. Midge turned pink with delight when I passed off the spring party to her several years ago. I felt it was the appropriate time and that it could help the girls. Regan’s selection showed it to be the proper decision. Now it’s Melrose’s turn soon.”

“Yes, Regan in charge last year must have been wonderful. It’s just unfortunate that she didn’t pass the reins over to a proper successor,” Cressida needled. The ashen look on Mavis’s face proved that she’d struck a nerve.

“Well, I don’t think the Olesky girl’s selection has anything to do with Regan,” Mavis insisted.

“Doesn’t the current leader’s views help in the selection?” Tilda asked. She wasn’t pushing some agenda or seeking to score points. The elder Tuppence was actually a bit confused.

“They should. However, an Olesky victory shouldn’t have even been allowed. That family has barely been active in our society for decades. They should’ve been banished like the–”

“The Oleskys are an original Bumble family by way of the Huguets. You know that Cressida,” Alma stated, a stickler for adhering to the oldest ways of the blue-blooded society. “No, I think the issue lies with these girls’ mothers. Look around and tell me who’s not in attendance.”

“The Ammings, but as if that’s a surprise. No Thirlbys, Hollisters, or Wynwicks,” Mavis listed.

“Excuse me?” Cressida challenged.

“Yes, yes, my mistake. Several Wynwicks were in attendance. Bernard, Mamie, and their children are still here. Kingsley and Petunia left after dinner. Not that I blame them at their age,” Mavis said. “Yet, it must have also been embarrassing that neither of their children came. I’m not surprised about Kathleen, but Kermit is a shock.”

“That is not who I meant. Paris and Boston are here with their families,” Cressida reminded.

“Oh, I didn’t mean to offend you, Cressy. I just meant none of the real Wynwicks are here.”

“My daughter-in-law and her brother are real Wynwicks!”

“Yes, dear. We all know that family tree,” Alma said, laying a hand on her old friend’s arm.

“Not only did Sela toss aside this party several years ago, but she also skipped it,” Mavis noted. She felt pleased to bring up Sela’s failure to attend. Midge’s predecessor as lead Bumble Girl wasn’t popular in the Milligan home.

“Ooh! Fiona isn’t here either,” Tilda added, pleased to remember Sela’s missing sister.

“Tillie, I don’t know if you’re still merely daft or growing senile, but that trollop has not been welcome at these parties since she was a teenager,” Cressida responded.

“Oh, right. I guess I just see her all the time that I forget,” Tilda replied brightly. “She’s very popular around town, you know.”

“None of the Vandermeers decided to show up. Although I heard that Giles flew to France for the second part of the holidays,” Mavis relayed. “Amelia and Cordelia appeared to have also decided our families don’t matter.”

“The Vandermeer girls went to the charity ball at the Witzler,” Tilda revealed needlessly.

“That’s what I said,” Mavis replied.

“No, you didn’t. So many people in town are there. Amelia’s husband grew up across the street from Cassandra Singer, and Cordelia knew her, too. It’s such a sad story,” Tilda said, carrying on as if any of the other women cared. “Oh, is your nephew there, Alma?”

“Yes, did Randolph also skip to attend this seemingly more important event?” Cressida asked, knowing the truth already.

Alma glared daggers at her friend before continuing with her point.

“This all is precisely my point. Look at all the missing Bumble Girls from your children’s generation. We also have several missing leaders in Kathleen Francy, Amelia Ridge, and Sela Thirlby. All these women set poor examples for their daughters. Sela is the worst by far. Her daughter, Sienna, refused even to be a Bumble Girl. A past leader’s daughter showing that level of disrespect is unacceptable.”

“Amelia’s two girls never joined either,” Tilda mentioned. She was ignored again.

"To further my point, look at this year's senior crop of Bumble Girls. Quilla Falkenburg, Lux Chaumont, Cheyenne Tissle, Veronica Klass, and their leader, Olena Olesky, are all at that charity ball," Alma listed.

“Zelia Amming is missing too,” Tilda added.

“Zelia’s always missing,” Mavis whispered.

"Lack of loyalty and participation allowed the Olesky girl to win the election. Not only did Sela allow Sienna to go astray, her whorish sister did the same to my great-niece." Gasps erupted from Alma's friends at her description of Fiona. "I should have stepped in and taken a firmer hand when Randolph's wife died. Instead, he allowed that harlot to step in to play the mother role."

“I’m confused. Are we now talking about Charm?” Tilda asked, referring to Randolph’s second wife.

“No! I’m talking about that…that woman who managed to become Paige’s mentor. She’s ruined my niece’s potential,” Alma declared, her voice dripping with hate. “Paige is an intelligent go-getter. She wouldn’t have been fooled by Cyril Olesky’s spawn. No, Paige would’ve seen her manipulations coming a mile away. A Noble should’ve been in charge of the Bumble Girls and the school. It’s their rightful place. But that Wynwick held Paige back so that we have an Olesky in charge of our thing and a damn Diamond as the most popular girl in town. And don’t get me started about the Wynwick bastard. That boy forces Paige to tag along behind him as if she were–”

“Why don’t you just lighten up, Alma?”

“Oh, gawd. Not us this time,” Mavis gasped in horror as a drunk Gaston Golphin staggered toward her group.

Despite decades of heavy drinking, the silver-haired Gaston still had a dashingly handsome face as he approached seventy. Almost a throwback to the showman days of his family, Gaston’s love of a good time also meant he’d heard plenty of late-night tales. Stories he’d never forget about his fellow Honey Hollowans.

“Don’t even start, Gaston,” Cressida warned.

“Ah, still got that broomstick lodged up your fanny, Cressy? But you never could compete with Alma for Bitch Girl leader in that department. Your ass was always too tight to shove it up any further. Not that Alma didn’t mind having things shoved up–”

"Not tonight, Gaston. Don't trifle with me," Alma warned.

“Why not?” the younger of the two Golphin brothers replied, sloshing his drink in the air. “Weren’t you about finished trashing the lovely Fiona? That girl puts you all to shame. So what if she had a kid as a kid? Maybe Cressy can tell us about that vacation to see her aunt in Sweet Creek back in ‘69. Or was it ‘70?”

“How dare you?!” Cressida screeched. “I…I’m going to find Flavia.”

Mavis opened her mouth before immediately closing it. She feared what Gassy might know about the skeletons in her closet.

“It’s been a few years since we voted on banning a member. Care to be the next?” Alma threatened.

“Ah, who cares? I’ve heard your regular rant about Demi Diamond more times to care. Or weren’t you about to start up on that in a second? Still bitter that Demi almost beat you for Bitch Girl leader?” Gaston asked with a smirk.

"The Diamonds are not Bumbles! Demi had no right even getting a single vote," Alma declared; her rising voice showed that Gaston hit a particular nerve.

“Shows how all your ‘friends’ really thought about you. Voting for a Diamond is the ultimate insult,” Gaston chuckled, recalling a missed beauty from his teenage years. “Damn shame she never comes back to town anymore.”

“And she won’t! Demi knows better than to cross me,” Alma proclaimed.

“It has nothing to do with you, and you know it,” the sober-sounding drunk replied. “Now, if you want to talk about people that will never be seen again, let’s talk about your husband. Isn’t it strange for a grieving widow to change back to her maiden name so quickly? It certainly wasn’t proper back in the 70s.”

“Dash, I thought you promised to watch your uncle!” Flavia yelled over her shoulder while rushing into the sitting room.

---

“Olena threatened you? No way!”

The older of the two cute sisters shook her head at her younger sister. The pair of brunettes stood huddled together just outside the mansion's conservatory. Mainly speaking in whispers until now, Temple's raised voice alarmed her older sister.

“Hush!” Teagan Tuppence ordered before continuing. “That’s not what I said.”

“Let me see,” the younger brunette with a golden hue to her hair demanded. Her blue eyes searched for the message on the phone.

“No,” the darker brunette responded, clutching her phone to her chest. “It’s my message.”

“As if I don’t read your messages to Berry all the time,” the little sister revealed in exasperation.

Despite being well-liked and having numerous close friends, Temple often envied her older sister's close friendship with Berry Thirlby. The two seventeen-year-olds seemed almost close enough to converse without words. Not that they were on the Sienna-Rylee level in that area, but they were the next closest that Temple had ever witnessed.

“You better not!” Teagan exclaimed, then caught herself for making too much noise. “Berry only said that Olena had threatened her. She didn’t hear it firsthand, but Olena threatened Sienna’s family and mentioned the Bumble Girls and elections. Kennedy’s name was also mentioned.”

“Ooh! Olena definitely threatened you,” Temple cooed. She sounded almost impressed that her older sister had earned the wrath of Olena.

Neither Tuppence sister nor Berry at the ball knew that Olena had never made such an explicit threat. The fake threat was part of Sienna’s move against Olena for annoying her.

“No, she didn’t.”

“Duh, Teagan, it has to be about you and next year’s election if she mentioned Kennedy Klass. Everyone knows that the election is up for grabs, as there are barely any candidates in your class. You and Kennedy are the most likely options, and nobody can stand Kennedy. Her only shot is if Olena gets involved.”

"I haven't decided if I even want to be a leader. Sure, it might be cool, but I'm not sacrificing my social life for all the Bumble events," Teagan vowed. "I prefer to have fun."

“Well, you'd better just do it. Mom’s expecting at least one of us to be elected leader. Talia refused to give up dancing and boys for the position.”

“Hey, what’s wrong with preferring boys to some dumb role?” Teagan challenged.

“Nothing! But, if you don’t win, then Mom’s going to put pressure on me,” Temple complained. “And I have Jackie and Mercedes in my grade. We both know they want to be Bumble queen.”

“That’s not my problem,” Teagan shot back.

“Don’t ruin my chance at having fun with boys, too!” the sixteen-year-old whined. “Ooh! You'd better watch your back. Kennedy might already be plotting against you tonight. Don’t drink from any open drinks. You haven’t already, have you?”

“Tem, this isn’t some movie where I get poisoned.”

“Don’t be naive. Look at them. I bet they’re all plotting against somebody right this minute,” Temple speculated, motioning toward inside the conservatory.

Inside the glass-paned room, the Tuppences saw Temple's friend, Jacqueline Burnett, huddled similarly with her best friend, Emerald Foss. The two girls whispered, with an occasional glare sent toward a pair of cheerleaders at another small table. Jacqueline's eyes held a particularly hard edge in them as she watched her perceived rival, Mercedes Melrose, chat with the more affable Saylor Waterhouse.

“Jackie’s definitely having bad thoughts about Mercedes,” Temple said, knowing from experience. “And based on Saylor’s bored face, I bet Mercedes is doing the same.”

"Are you sure you don't want to be the leader in two years? You seem awfully into all the intrigue," Teagan commented.

“All I care about is how their plans affect which guys are available,” the younger boy-crazy girl admitted. “I figure Mercedes probably wants a star athlete like Dawson Fox down the line. She can have him. Jackie’s a bigger problem. As my friend, I have to be careful about not mixing friendships with lust.”

“You know, you’re sounding more and more like Talia,” Teagan remarked, referring to their older, sex-obsessed sister. Not that she didn’t also think about sex all the time.

“Ooh! I know who can help you,” Temple cooed. Quickly, she motioned for a rarely-seen Bumble Girl to come over to them. “Giselle, over here!”

With mid-length honey blonde hair (currently braided), gray eyes, medium-to-large breasts, and a toned ass, Giselle Golphin’s gorgeous looks often frustrated the guys in Honey Hollow. It wasn’t her personality that caused them to gripe, but her availability. The Golphins were one of the Bumble families that sent their children halfway across the country to Thornapple Academy for their schooling. Her experience in the den of wealth, privilege, and influence was precisely what Temple wanted to tap for her older sister.

“I already heard,” Giselle said before either sister could speak.

“Huh?” Temple sounded.

“I already heard about what happened between Lana Stratton and Teresa Zuccaro at the charity ball,” Giselle continued. “And about Lacey and Austin.”

“What happened?” the younger Tuppence pressed.

“They lost the tops of their dresses while fighting on the dance floor,” Teagan supplied, rather than Giselle.

“What? You knew? Why didn’t you tell me?!” Temple squealed, slapping her sister’s arm.

“Berry told me. I thought you knew. It’s all over Nosy Nectar,” Teagan replied.

"Wait, what about Lacey and Austin?" Temple listened with widening eyes about Lacey and Austin's breakup and Bianca's cold rejection of the star quarterback. "No way! School is going to be crazy this week."

"So what did you want?" Giselle inquired once she realized it was about something other than the events happening elsewhere.

“Oh! Teagan needs your advice. Daggers are being pulled, and poisons mixed. So she needs your knowledge of how to survive backstabbing bitches and scheming cunts,” Temple embellished. “I mean, Thornapple is filled with them.”

“Very true. I assume this is about Bumble Girl shenanigans. I’d think so with Olena in charge,” Giselle guessed.

“Kennedy might be making her move against my sister already.”

“Ignore her. Temple’s taken one little comment and run wild with it,” Teagan said dismissively.

“Olena threatened you!”

“No, she didn’t!”

"I wouldn't worry, Teagan. Kennedy doesn't have a chance. Her high and mighty attitude will lose her more votes than she gains," Giselle reassured. "If anything, Olena's support would hurt. I know she manipulated people to get elected, but they're pissed about it, too. Just talk to Quilla. She'll help marshal the outgoing senior votes for you."

“Are you talking about my cousin?” an attractive but condescending blonde asked, appearing out of nowhere.

Teagan and Temple glanced at each other in concern while Giselle **** herself not to frown. A schemer who rivaled Olena, Nicolette “Nita” Seckler, happened to be one of Giselle’s biggest problems at Thornapple Academy. Upset about the ban her mother’s Le Ley side of the family caused, Nita chose to make lemonade out of lemons. If she couldn’t run the Bumble Girls from Regal Crest, then she’d create her own version at the prep school. And as Giselle came from an old Bumble family, she’d been expected to help. She’d done so with a fake smile merely to shut up her hometown classmate.

"Yes, we were," Giselle answered first. "Quilla proved smarter than all of us."

“How so?” Nita questioned, a frown forming.

“She picked the better party for available guys. It’s slim pickings here,” Giselle replied, flickering her eyes at the Tuppence sisters. They immediately picked up on the excuse.

“Oh, yeah! All the hottest guys are at the charity ball. I hear Fletcher’s striking out because of all the competition,” Temple chimed in.

"Please. Don't mention the bastard's name around me," Nita declared haughtily. "Still, I expected more of Quade's college friends to be here tonight. Whatever. If my cousin wishes to lose her standing over a dumb charity, that's her problem. All the right people are here tonight."

“I hear the Rogers triplets are in town for the ball,” Giselle added.

“I don’t know why you insist on liking them. They have nothing to do with us.”

“Their mom is from Honey Hollow,” Giselle reminded, tired of this years-long argument. “Besides Lex being cute, Loren and Rowan are in a lot of our classes.”

“What?!”

Mercedes's outraged scream turned everyone’s attention to her. Holding her phone in one hand, Saylor attempted to calm down her friend.

“No, it’s not okay!” Mercedes responded to an unheard comment. “I am not playing nursemaid to some guy that I never heard of before.”

“It’s Whitney’s order,” Saylor stressed. “All of us have to lend a hand. Well, I think Kizzy said Fern wouldn’t be allowed. And you know who Sean is. His sister is best friends with Lana Stratton.”

“No, no, no! I’m taking care of some cripple.”

“Sean Tarver’s not a cripple. He broke some bones in his leg or foot while saving Whitney’s life,” Saylor relayed. “And we’re not nursemaids. I guess the rest of the squad is calling themselves his candy-stripers. You know, like the girls that volunteer at hospitals.”

“I do not volunteer for sick people,” Mercedes proclaimed. “I don’t care what Whitney says. Margo won’t allow me to be **** into this crap.”

"I don't know. It sounds like the girls are having fun whisking him around in his wheelchair. Although I guess Cadence refuses to help."

“That’s because Cadence is smart,” Mercedes remarked about the other member of their trio. “She said the charity ball is horrible.”

“Horrible? Why? Because she got dragged into Lacey and Bianca’s fight?” Saylor asked.

“What? She didn’t tell me anything about that? She told you?”

“No, Kizzy has been sending updates to those of us not there,” Saylor revealed. “YoYo too, but most of hers are about which hot guys she’d get on her knees for.”

“Why are you messaging Kizzy and Yolanda? They aren’t your friends. You should only be talking to Cadence,” Mercedes declared.

"They're our cheermates. Besides, the party at the Witzler sounds awesome. Way better than this one," Saylor commented, feeling slightly disappointed about missing the cooler event.

“Don’t say that so loud!” Mercedes scolded loudly. “You won’t ever be elected head Bumble Girl with that attitude.”

Saylor didn’t reply. However, she didn’t care about getting elected in two years. Everyone thought Mercedes had that role in mind, but they didn’t know about the grand plan concocted by her and Cadence for their senior year. The two friends planned for Cadence to be cheerleader captain, Saylor as head Bumble Girl, and Mercedes to rule the school as Queen Bee.

Preferring to enjoy life without all the crazy ambitions, Saylor thought up a way to keep her friend from causing a ruckus over their new cheerleader chore.

“You know, Sean Tarver is pretty good-looking. Kizzy said girls have been all over him tonight. Apparently, he’s got a big tower. Even the Sugarbees gave him a group lap dance.”

“How tacky,” Mercedes remarked.

“I’m just saying that helping Sean until he’s better might have its benefits. He saved the life of the most popular girl in town. So doesn’t that mean he’s currently the most popular guy?” Saylor watched as the wheels began to turn in her friend’s mind. “I’d think being seen helping Sean would be a good thing.”

“Ah, yes. What future monarch wouldn’t show some compassion to such a fine hero? Especially one so close to Cadence’s family. I think we shall help Whitney’s injured knight for the time being,” Mercedes declared, pulling out her phone.

“Who are you messaging?” Saylor asked, already knowing she was texting Cadence to be nicer to Sean.

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Note: I know these side chapters aren't for everyone. If you didn't like this, then we'll be back at the ball with the next chapter.