Authors: Elizabeth Miles
After a few moments of looking bewildered, one store employee finally started shooing people out of the store. “Sorry for the inconvenience, folks,” she said roughly, herding the customers toward the entryway and out of the store. “We’ll have this all sorted out in a few moments.”
Amid the hubbub, no one noticed that Skylar had stuffed the sweaterdress—and a headband, no less—into her bag.
• • •
“That was so amazing, what you pulled yesterday.” Meg was still gushing the next day, when she, Ty, and Ali showed up to help
Skylar party-prep. (They’d snuck in through the back door, not wanting to elicit another weird reaction from Aunt Nora.)
“Totally badass,” Ali agreed. Everything Ali said seemed somehow seductive, as though the words rolled over her curvy body as they left her mouth.
Skylar smiled sheepishly. “Anything is possible if you want it bad enough,” she said, parroting back words that Lucy used to say to her. “Plus, Gabby’s going to die when she sees this dress!”
Again that tiny twinge of guilt wriggled in her stomach. Gabby had been nothing but nice to her since she’d started at Ascension. But this was a special day, and Skylar felt like she finally had some guts. Not to mention . . . she’d never had a group of girlfriends before. Hanging out with Meg, Ty, and Ali was exhilarating, like being on a sugar high. Now, if only she could be this popular at school . . .
“So, hair?” Meg tapped Skylar’s silver watch, sending shivers up her spine. “We’re on a tight schedule, party girl.”
While Meg wrapped Skylar’s hair in curlers, Ali brushed foundation onto her face, blush onto her cheeks, and shadow onto her lids. Skylar felt like she was at a beauty salon, or on one of those before-and-after makeover shows. Ty hovered in the background—making Skylar a little nervous, to be honest. Ty seemed to have this balled-up dark energy inside her, even when she was smiling. It reminded Skylar, frankly, of Em.
“You’ve inspired me!” Ty exclaimed all of a sudden. “Watching you get this mini-makeover has given me an idea.” She grabbed her purse and disappeared into the bathroom mysteriously as the other girls watched her go.
“Ty and her ideas . . . ,” Ali said with a smile. “Can’t wait to see what she’s come up with this time.”
Meanwhile, the girls pulled out patterned gray tights and heeled charcoal boots to go with Skylar’s new dress.
“This scarf will look perfect too, especially with your watch,” Ali said, holding a silvery one against Skylar’s arm, where the glinting threads highlighted the delicate weave of the watch from her mom. Ali was right. It really was a perfect ensemble—and understated, for a change.
She was twirling around, trying to catch her butt in the mirror, when Ty reemerged from the bathroom. “Ta-da!” Ty struck a pose.
Skylar gasped. In twenty minutes Ty had completely transformed herself—she’d dyed her gorgeous, wavy red hair a deep chestnut brown, and she’d straightened it. Skylar hadn’t even heard the blow-dryer. She couldn’t believe how quickly Ty had reinvented herself.
“You like?” Ty asked, modeling for the others. “I figured since Meg changed her hair, I should change mine. Ali, you’re next.”
“I only grew mine out,” Meg said. “You’re like a whole new person.”
Skylar stopped herself from confessing she preferred Ty before. “It’s great,” she said. The other cousins agreed, nodding vigorously.
But the truth was, with her newly darkened locks against her already pale skin, Ty looked almost like a corpse.
They were about to head out to the party when Meg got a phone call. She retreated into the hallway for a minute, and when she came back, she looked at Skylar apologetically.
“Family drama,” she said with a grimace, and then, to Ali and Ty, “We have to bail pretty soon.”
A small part of Skylar was relieved. Her new friends at Ascension didn’t know Meg and her cousins, and Skylar didn’t want to rock the boat. What if they all didn’t get along and her party was ruined? It was better this way, really. Not to mention that she didn’t need any
more
gorgeous friends to steal the attention away from her. But still—being around Meg and the girls made her feel almost powerful. How was she going to fake it without them?
“You’re not going to come to the party at all?” Skylar pouted.
“Don’t worry,” Meg said, kissing Skylar on the forehead. “We’ll go with you right now and help you set up. After that, we’ll be there in spirit.”
Ty winked at her. “You’ll feel like we’re right there with you. Oh! What’s this?” She pointed to the red orchid Meg had given Skylar on the first day they’d met, which was still blooming as well as ever.
“Aw, you kept it,” Meg said.
“I think it’s the dream accessory,” Ali piped up.
“You should wear it.” Ty reached over and pinned the red orchid to Skylar’s dress. “You know, for good luck!”
Impulsively, Skylar hugged her as the other girls squealed. It was time.
“I really didn’t know,” Gabby told Em for the thousandth time, holding a gold dangly earring to her ear in front of Em’s bedroom mirror. “I mean, he’s a
sophomore
. He can’t really think it would work out between us.”
Em nodded. She was standing in her closet doorway, staring at her belt collection.
“I did think they’d be good together. I still do!” Gabby continued, fishing out a different dangly earring from Em’s collection, this one full of bright red beads. She was wearing her hair up tonight and wanted to balance the look with some big jewelry.
“Do you think she has any idea?” Em asked, holding a black belt up to her jeans.
“I hope not,” Gabby said. “I mean, she knows that I’m just
trying to be single for now, not date anyone, just focus on myself. You know? Which is exactly what I told Pierce, too. I’d go with the brown belt, by the way. The woven one.”
“Thanks, Gabs.” Em threaded it through her belt loops, noting distractedly that she had to buckle it into the tightest hole. She was thinking about how Skylar would feel if she knew her crush-object had fallen for Gabby. On one hand, the girl obviously worshipped Gabs. But Skylar was probably a bit jealous, too. Hell, Em knew
exactly
what it felt like to be overshadowed by Gabby. She recalled moments spent yearning for what Gabby had: the supposedly perfect life, the supposedly perfect boyfriend. Of course, memories of Zach made her think of Chase, and how for him, the desire for so-called perfection had been even more consuming. Bad enough for him to do terrible things. And then to have terrible things done to him. . . .
And while Gabby was stressing about stuff with Skylar, Em was equally remorseful about how things had gone down with Drea the other night. Now that she had some distance, Em was embarrassed and even a little scared by how she’d behaved on JD’s stoop. That wasn’t her. That was someone darker, someone worse.
She wanted to apologize, to explain herself. But so far, she hadn’t found the words.
Gabby nudged her out of her thoughts with her elbow. “If you were Skylar, would you totally hate me right now?”
Em finished putting on her mascara. “I think you should just let it go,” she said. “Skylar will get over it.”
“But I want her to know,” Gabby insisted, “that I would never do that to a friend. Especially not after . . .” She trailed off. Em’s betrayal fell between them like a shade. “Anyway. Can I borrow these?” She held up a pair of long silver earrings.
“Of course,” Em said.
“I wonder if the Dusters will be hot,” Gabby mused as she put on the earrings. “Bass players are always hot, aren’t they?”
“Sorry, who are the Dusters?” Em looked up distractedly from the pile of boots she was contemplating on her closet floor.
“Emmmmmmmm,” Gabby whined. “They’re
just
the semifamous band I’ve been telling you about for a week. It was a total coup that we got them for the Fling. They, like, never do high school shows. But we had a connection through that senior, Angela something-or-other. Isn’t it too perfect?”
“Too perfect,” Em echoed. “Maybe I could interview them for the yearbook spread about the dance.” She felt a glimmer of her old self.
Gabby flopped onto the bed and sighed. “I guess. The whole thing is going to be a mortifying disaster, of course.” She looked at Em for a reaction.
“Um, why’s that?” Em couldn’t help but smirk at Gabby’s flip-flopping between exhilaration and despair.
“Only because we don’t have a theme and the dance is a week away!” Gabby groaned.
Em felt guilty that she didn’t know. “We don’t?”
“God, Em, no! Where have you been? Well, I know where you
haven’t
been—at the planning committee meetings.” All of a sudden, Gabby got quiet. “Seriously, Em, where have you been recently? Where has your head been? I can’t shake the feeling that . . . Are you still hiding something from me?”
The question was so straightforward that it threw Em off. She tried to focus on lacing her boots, but her hands began to shake a little. She wished, desperately, that she could talk to Gabby—that she could tell her everything. Then she realized: There
was
something she could come clean about. She cleared her throat and stood up with one chocolate-brown boot in her hand.
“You’re right, Gabs,” she said slowly. “There is something I’m hiding from you.”
Gabby stared at her, eyebrows raised, chewing on her lip. “I knew it.”
“I haven’t told you . . . the fact that . . . Well, this is going to sound weird, but . . .”
“Just say it!” Gabby made frantic whirring motions with her hands.
Em took a deep breath. “Okay. Well. I’m falling in love with—I’m
in
love with JD. Like, totally. Head over heels.” She
blushed, unable to believe that she’d said the words aloud. It actually felt . . . good.
Gabby was confused. “JD . . . Like, JD the chauffeur?”
“We really shouldn’t call him that, Gabby,” Em said. “He’s more than that.” But Gabby’s reaction was no surprise. In public, Em had never treated JD as anything more than her personal driver. No wonder he thought she was a stuck-up bitch.
Gabby pressed for details. “So, when did you know? And doesn’t he, like, totally love you back? He’s always been pretty obsessed with you, hasn’t he?”
Em threw her a small smile. “I think part of me has always known,” she said. “Way down somewhere. But . . . I also think I lost my chance. I don’t think he trusts me anymore. We kind of . . . we had a falling-out. And now he’s more into fixing cars than hanging out with me.”
“I can’t believe you haven’t told me about this,” Gabby said. Em was relieved that Gabby sounded more exasperated than angry. Gabby swung her legs over the side of the bed, and in typical Gabby fashion, barked an order. “Come here, then. Is he going to be at the party tonight? If you want to make up with JD, you
have
to do something with your hair.”
Em smiled sheepishly. “I was late for school this morning. I didn’t have a chance . . .” She wondered if JD would be there tonight, and if so, whether the woods would be a good place to corner him and at least talk—about something, anything. Find
some neutral territory. Some way to start things over between them. If she couldn’t explain herself to him, explain what had happened that night at the Behemoth, well, at least she could apologize. Try to make him remember their chemistry. All the fun they used to have. Maybe she could at least get him to crack a small smile again like he had in the driveway the other day. . . .
Gabby grabbed a comb from the dresser and motioned for Em to sit down on the bed. As she started working the knots out of Em’s hair, it dawned on Em that JD really only went to parties with
her
—when she needed a ride. It was pretty doubtful that he’d make an appearance tonight.
Truth be told, as much as she was dying to talk to him, it was probably safer that things between them were so strained. She was having a hard enough time not telling him all the secrets the Furies had insisted she keep.
“There,” Gabby said with satisfaction after a few moments. “Your hair is so dark these days, Em. It looks good with your coloring. I swear, you could be a Lancôme model or something.”
Gabby grabbed some eye shadow from the dresser.
“I don’t want—” Em started to protest.
Gabby cut her off. “Don’t argue. I’m going to put some of this on your eyelids. That’s it. You clearly don’t need any other makeup.”
Em felt a rush of gratitude. “Do you think I should wear my hair up or down?” she asked, smiling for what felt like the first time in months as she caught Gabby’s eyes in the mirror.
• • •
The bonfire was blazing by the time they got to the Haunted Woods, and between the hot flames and the balmy night, spring fever had definitely struck early. People who had already arrived were running around in jeans and sweaters. Under the shimmering half-moon and against the flickering fire, the partygoers looked like they were moving in leaps and jumps—like characters in a flip book or dancers under a disco ball. The wood smoke was thick and smelled of pine needles. Em saw Skylar at the far side of the fire, struggling with a shiny metal keg. Had she set this up all by herself?
“Want help with that?” Andy Barton and a group of other jocks barreled past them, heading toward Skylar. Em noticed that Pierce was part of the group—he tried to say hi to Gabby, but she was distracted by Fiona and Jenna, who had just arrived with a portable iPod dock.
“Music!” Fiona shouted.
“Did you hear that Lauren is totally coming
with
Nick?” Jenna huddled into Gabby and Em. “I bet they’re going to hook up again.”
Gabby shrieked and Em smiled. The saga of Lauren and Nick was reaching legendary proportions.
“Let’s go get something to drink,” Gabby said. “There’s spiked cider and beer. I think Skylar was planning on getting some mulled wine, too.”
“Get me whatever, okay? I’ll keep watch for Lauren,” Em said, not quite ready to enter the group. There was raucous laughter coming from a group of sophomore and junior boys by the kegs.
“Remember freshman year? The Haunted Woods party? When Zach and Chase were doing keg stands?” Gabby laughed and Em realized, with a start, that she and Gabby had barely said Zach’s name out loud since . . . the incident. She reached out and squeezed Gabby’s hand.