Private School Playboys novel · Chapter 8 of 24

Chapter 8: Dinner with the Playboys

I asked him about the text twice that week.

The first time he kissed me instead of answering.

The second time he said, "After the hearing. I'll tell you everything after the hearing."

I let it go.

It was easier than I wanted to admit.

On Thursday night he took me to the boathouse for the Playboys' monthly dinner.

"They'll want to see you," Jude said, as we walked down the frozen path. "If I skip, they'll think you changed me."

"Did I?"

"Absolutely."

He said it so flatly I couldn't tell if he was joking.

The boathouse was the old brick one at the north end of the lake, with a banner hung over the door.

THE PLAYBOYS, it said, in gold thread.

Somebody had stitched a little crown over the P.

Inside there was a long wooden table lit by candles, a fireplace, and a pool table in the corner under a stained-glass lamp.

Three boys sat around the table.

Two of them I'd only ever seen across the quad.

The tall one wore a gold signet ring.

The other had a shaved head and a laugh.

And Brooks sat at the far end, in his lacrosse jacket, stiff as a board.

When he saw me his jaw clenched.

"Look who it is," said the boy with the signet ring. "Rafferty brought a date."

"Whittredge," I said. "Roberta Whittredge."

"We know," said the bald one, grinning. "You're the girl with the punch."

Brooks stared at his plate.

Jude pulled out a chair for me and sat beside me.

For a while it was almost fun.

They told stories about the headmaster's dog and a stolen boat and a teacher who cried at funerals on TV.

I laughed more than I meant to.

The bald one kept refilling my water glass like a waiter.

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