* * *
—
“You’ll get used to the lights,” Kim says, taking a seat across from me, not that I can really see her. She’s haloed in light, a ghostly figure in the darkness.
The lights burn hot, but the hotel conference room is bone cold, AC blasting even in March.
“We’ll backtrack in a later interview, go over basic biographical information. But tonight, let’s focus on the trial. How are you feeling after the last few days? With questions leading back to you?”
Indeed, Tyler’s lawyer has found a way to bring me up in nearly every cross-examination. More than once I’ve almost had to leave the courtroom. Before I respond, I think about how my answers will be used, chopped up as sound bites. “I’m an easy target. Not like the rest of them. The scholarship student. Emma used me so she could run her test-taking scam. I’ll always have to live with that betrayal.” I look down at my hands, think to chew my lip a bit. “The defense is scrambling to cast attention away from Tyler the sociopath. But the truth will out.”
“Will it? In these cases, so often the wealthy, the privileged, get away with murder. Often literally. After Claflin expelled you without cause, you really believe in the system?”
We lock eyes. Hers dance between cocksureness and assessment. I work to project confidence. I’m a better actress than I used to be.
“Technically, I wasn’t expelled,” I say with a smirk.
“Right. You’re on a forced gap year. A very different outcome from the actual cheaters.”
“Oh, a bunch of them were forced to take gap years, too. To places like Rome, Seoul, London, Tokyo. Someone has to intern with the titans of industry, you know?”
That one makes Kim laugh. “It’s good you have a sense of humor about it.”
“Laugh so you don’t cry.” I shrug. “Anyway, I got my own good news the other day. I’m going to Smith.” Saying it out loud to a stranger makes it feel even more real. I did it. This is what it was all for.
“Congratulations! I went to Amherst.” I feel Kim seeing me with new eyes. I’m like her now, they say. A thrill of satisfaction runs through me. I’ve proven I belong. One more rung up the ladder.
“Was it all worth it?” Kim turns serious, her gaze a thousand-yard stare. Between her dark brown eyes and the black of the camera lens, I stare, losing myself to an abyss. A chasm of what-ifs.
What if Ethan had stood up for me.
What if Emma hadn’t died.
What if she hadn’t betrayed me, or anyone else, in the first place.
What if I’d never done anything underhanded in pursuit of college.
What if I’d never joined the Ivies.
But I know that if I went back, I would do it all over again. I would have accepted the Ivies’ invitation in every possible scenario. I needed their approval like oxygen.
In the present, I take a deep breath. I smile for the camera.
And I lie.
Because this is the game. The long game. Play the part, try to fit in. Earn their trust. Take their shit. Claw my way up, up, up.
The bright lights burn my eyes. I stare, straight ahead, and don’t blink.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Every book is a deeply personal endeavor that forever marks for the author a particular span of time, but The Ivies holds a particularly bittersweet significance for me. I can mark the stages of drafting and editing this book by before my mother died and after my mother died. It’s quite a thing to write a “murder book” in the midst of real-life death and grieving; The Ivies was alternately a distraction when I needed it and an outlet to process my feelings after she was gone. Quite morbid to share with perfect strangers, I know, but necessary for context. Though my mother died before she could read The Ivies, I did get to tell her about it before she got sick, and know she believed in me and it so much. She was the first person I thought of when it sold. And she is the first person I must think of here. Two books in a row I thanked her last, when she should have been and always will be first. So, first of all and always, thank you to my mother, Dorothy.
To my agent, Elana Roth Parker, for being the best human, business partner, and friend. I couldn’t do any of it without your immense support.
To my editor, Elizabeth Stranahan—thank you for your brilliant guidance, detailed and thoughtful edits, and helping me to make this book better than I could have ever imagined. To the entire team at Crown and Random House for your support in making The Ivies sharper and helping to get it out in the world: Phoebe Yeh, Melinda Ackell, Barbara Bakowski, Alexandra Hess, Caitlin Whalen, Jenn Inzetta, Emily DuVal, and many more I’ve yet to meet. And thank you so much to photographer Christine Blackburne and designer Casey Moses for a cover that blew me away and made all my dreams come true!
To my lovely, wonderful, amazing friends who listened to me blather and brainstorm this book, who read drafts (often multiple!) and encouraged me every step of the way: I love you. Basically anyone who ever talked to me about or read this book: Rosiee Thor, June Tan, Gretchen Schreibner, Dana Mele, Emmy Neal, Lainey Kress, Kat O’Keeffe, Heather Kaczynski, Rebecca Schaeffer, Adrienne Kisner, Mary Elizabeth Summer, Kristin Dwyer, Tabatha Duckworth, Courtney Gould, Lindsey Meredith, Austin Siegemund-Broka, Alyssa Colman, Emily Skrutskie, Farrah Penn, Emily Duncan, Rory Power, Christine Lynn Herman, and so many more I am sure I have missed.
To the CPs and friends who did targeted beta reads, sensitivity reads, and multiple reads: I owe you all the things. Particularly: Natalie Simpson, Kevin van Whye, Emily Lloyd Jones, Emily Wibberley, Elly Blake, Deeba Zargarpur, Casey Fiesler, Jessica van Allen, and J. Elle.
To Tillabook, already thanked above but thanked here again. You got me through act two and are the best! Also, CHEESE!
Thank you as always to my WriteGirls: Joy, Taya, Sophia, and especially Miranda for her Yale connects. To Kevin Z for sharing your experience of elite Northeastern boarding schools. To every student who let me share a bit of their college admissions experience. Brainstorming, guiding, editing, and helping you is a joy. I’m proud of every single one of you, you brilliant diamonds. Also at WriteGirl, thank you to Alison Deegan and Leslie Awender, who run the college program. You do incredible work, and thank you for making me a part of it.
Thank you, Stacey Brook at College Essay Advisors, for your generosity, wisdom, and top-notch organizational skills. You made my time in private consulting a delight.
To Boston University, thank you for accepting me even though I quoted a Fiona Apple lyric in my admissions essay. I was a teenager with a lot of Feelings.
To my California family who are basically my actual family at this point: the Hannas. Thank you for always opening your home, sharing your holidays, letting me draft during football, and taking me to Disneyland, and for the cheeseballs. Patty, especially: love you forever.