The Ivy: Secrets Read Online Free PDF Page B

break?”
    Translation: Make any more sex tapes I should know about?
    “No,” said Callie. “Nothing too exciting other than eating and sleeping and—”
    “That’s nice,” Lexi interrupted. “So,” she continued, “you’re probably wondering why I called you here today.”
    To . . . murder me?
    “Yes,” said Callie, eyes darting around the room looking for a weapon—ahem—reason.
    “In addition to congratulating you on defying all of our expectations by making it to the final round, I wanted to give you some advice. From someone older and wiser to someone younger and . . . well, like you. Please—sit,” she added, gesturing to a nearby chair.
    Callie obeyed. She leaned forward, unaware that she was gripping the edge of her seat so hard that her knuckles were turning white.
    “Now, let’s see,” said Lexi, picking up a pile of papers resting near her computer. “I have a list of your new assignments—for COMP, of course—right here,” she said, selecting a sheet from the stack. “Before I give it to you, however, I want to emphasize the importance of completing these assignments without deviating from the instructions.”
    Callie nodded. So this was it: Lexi was going to keep her off the magazine by forcing her to write on the most ridiculous subject matter possible. These new assignments would probably be even worse than her topics from the previous months, which included Vaseline: Friend or Foe? and Foot Fungus in the Freshman Showers: Alert Level ORANGE . Callie had tried to make the most of those pieces, tweaking the guidelines to write something more substantial (“while we’re on the topic of alert levels, are they really a successful barometer of an imminent threat?”) or attempting an ironic spin (“Vaseline is the twenty-first century’s cure-all answer to even the toughest problems: Squeaky door? Vaseline. Low on mousse? Vaseline. Out of Mayo? Vaseline!”).
    Callie sighed. Of course Lexi would never do something so sordid as to release the tape; she was just making sure Callie had an incentive to follow instructions. Still, thought Callie, why bother? Why not just get rid of me now?
    As if she could read Callie’s mind, Lexi, toying a finger through the gold chain around her neck, said, “Now, I know we’ve had our differences, but your—er—talent is clear, and I’ve come around to the idea that you could be very useful . To the magazine, of course.”
    Callie gulped.
    “It is crucial, however,” Lexi continued, “that we, the editors, get a chance to see your commitment, dedication, and above all, obedience. If you should fail or refuse to complete any of these new assignments, I’m afraid that you would be in danger of . . . exposing yourself as someone who has a problem with authority. Is this making sense to you?”
    “Yes,” said Callie through gritted teeth. “I get it.” If I don’t write your stupid pieces and make myself look like an idiot, then you’ll “expose” the tape. “Are you going to give me the list?” Callie asked, eyeing the paper that Lexi still held just out of arm’s reach.
    “Silly me—of course,” said Lexi, handing it to Callie.
    Callie barely glanced at it before looking back up at her. “So are we—” She paused. Slowly her eyes fell back toward the sheet of paper she held in her hands. They grew wide. You can’t be serious. “You can’t be . . .”
    “Can’t be what?”
    “Um—nothing, sorry, I just . . . I mean . . .”
    Lexi gasped suddenly with apparent concern. “Look at the time,” she said. “Please forgive me for keeping you; with so much work to do, you must be anxious to get started!”
    “Yes,” said Callie, clutching her “new assignments” list in her fist. “Lots of work,” she muttered, standing and heading toward the door. Her cheeks were on fire, and she knew she was minutes, if not seconds, away from the same helpless hysteria that had set in once during her senior year in high school when an