After delivering gourmet sandwiches for lunch (turkey and Havarti on croissants, portobello and goat cheese on flat bread), dining services must have needed an easy one since they announced that for dinner, they would be ordering a giant stack of pizza boxes. No one seemed to mind. In fact, pizza was Tinsley’s favorite meal before a big night of drinking. Nothing like carbs and cheese to prep the stomach for alcohol. All afternoon, the girls had left the doors to their rooms—and closets—open, and everyone roamed around the floors, pawing through racks of clothes that weren’t even their size, just in case they saw something spectacular. Tinsley had been through Benny and Sage and Celine’s closets, and she knew Callie’s like the back of her hand, but everything seemed boring. Dry. Conventional. Unsurprising. Her wardrobe had been picked clean by dozens of hands. She didn’t mind sharing, as long as she got outfits as good as she gave. Brett came storming into the room, an emerald green chiffon garment hanging over her arm.
