Chapter 3

Page Six
Last seen: Emma Graham and Amanda Peters, the top seniors of the Patricia Loyalton School for Girls, trying on Marc Jacobs and Gucci dresses at Bendel's. After their dresses were picked, the two girls and their posse proceeded to head downtown to one of the most random newest hot clubs to waste away the night with their fake IDs.

Emma perfected her make up: eye shadow, eye liner and mascara, blush, lip gloss. She ran a brush through her hair several times, and swirled Scope through her mouth. She slipped her arms into her new Marc Jacobs dress, and quickly tied and bowed the ties. The dress was a soft silk, a perfect sapphire color. Her Manolo Blahniks were black, with a four inch heel. She slipped a few things into her tiny Dior clutch.

Amanda appeared out of her bathroom, straightening her thong. Best friends since kindergarten, it wasn't like they hadn't seen each other's bare breasts before.

"Help?"

Emma fastened the gold chain around her neck.

"When are the guys coming?"

"Eight."

"It's seven forty."

"We'll keep them waiting..." Emma walked out into the hallway, as her mother hurried past in a flurry of fur, perfume, and glittering jewels.

"Don't stay out too late," her mother said, as she was supposed to, kissing both of her daughter's cheeks and snaking her arms around her in some sort of hug, the best she could do with her stomach.

"Okay Mom ... actually I should be saying the same to you..."

They both laughed, and Emma continued on to the kitchen, where she grabbed two diet Cokes from the fridges, and returned to her room.

She had taken two Midol before they left, hoping to return herself to her normal size before she tried on clothes. And it had worked.

She put a few more into a little pill case, and stuck it into her clutch.

"Almost ready?"

Amanda nodded.

The two girls lay out on her bed, comparing their dresses, shoes, and waist sizes. The boys buzzed.

"Be right down," Amanda chirped into the phone to the doorman.

They giggled, slipping into cashmere tie sweaters/coats. Emma's was off white, and Amanda's was tan.

They slipped their arms into each other's, and headed downstairs.

Enter: gorgeous boyfriends...

Luke and Chris were standing to the side of the building, smoking cigarettes.

Luke paused to hug and kiss Emma, and then offered her a puff. She took the cigarette and took a long drag as slipped her hand into Luke's. He twined his fingers around hers, and stuck his arm out into the autumn air.

"We should get going."

"Agreed," Amanda put out Chris' cigarette with the pointed toe of her knee high light blue suede boots, and followed him in as all four of them piled into the back of the cab.

Once downtown, getting into the club was simple, finding their friends was another story.

Eventually, after they had done two lines of shots, Elizabeth finally found them, collapsing into the circular overstuffed booth, and promptly whipping off her almost five inch stilettos. She needed them, being only five four, and having to keep up with her six three boyfriend. She and Nicky were best friends, and Dan and Jake were best friends. Together, the eight were unstoppable, separated it fell apart into the two groups of Emma, etc. and Elizabeth, etc. The girls were still all best friends, but Amanda-and-Emma and Elizabeth-and-Nicky were even closer best friends. You know how these things go.