Lovely Girls(39)

Alex stilled, and her expression became somber.

In econ class today, I gave Callie a thumb drive with the video of Coach and Daphne on it. I slipped it into her hand, and she winked at me. Like it was all just a joke, when really . . . there’s absolutely nothing funny about it. I don’t even know why I gave it to her. I don’t trust Callie at all. Maybe I’m tired of being passive. Or maybe I’m just a bad person and I don’t care what happens . . . as long as something happens.

That’s what got me thinking about unintended consequences. Because I’m not sure what Callie’s going to do with that video. But I have a feeling everything is about to blow up.

Alex held up her hands and spread her fingers out, mimicking fireworks.

Boom.





CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE




* * *





KATE

The homecoming meeting at Emma’s house was strained from the beginning. Genevieve hadn’t shown up. No one knew why. She hadn’t called or even texted to let us know she’d be late. And I could tell that something was going on between Ingrid and Emma. They sat across from one another at Emma’s long kitchen table but were avoiding eye contact.

Ingrid was on her laptop, placing an order for party decorations.

“I think we should get a Mylar balloon display.” She typed as she spoke, her fingers clicking quickly against the keyboard. “The kids can get their photos taken in front of it.”

“Sounds good,” Emma said, not looking up from the piles of tickets she was organizing.

“Is everything okay with you two?” I finally asked, looking up from the to-do list I’d somehow been put in charge of.

“Fine,” Ingrid said tersely.

Emma glanced at her and then smiled apologetically at me. “Our girls are in a fight. We’re not sure what’s going on exactly, because none of them will tell us.”

And when their daughters don’t get along, the mothers have to fight too? I wondered. But maybe it wasn’t that strange. Conflict was inevitable, and parents tended to stick up for their kids.

“Speaking of which.” Ingrid looked up from her laptop. “Genevieve is pissed off at you.”

“Me?” I asked, surprised. I had been trying to figure out what to say to Genevieve about Daphne bullying Alex, or whether I even should, after both Alex and Emma had insisted that would only make things worse. But what could I have done to anger her? I hadn’t seen or spoken to Genevieve in days. “Why would Genevieve be angry at me?”

“Why do you think?” Ingrid asked. “Alex took Daphne’s spot on the tennis lineup.”

I smiled, thinking that she must be joking. But Ingrid and Emma stared back at me, neither one smiling.

“It’s a school sports team,” I said. “All the kids should get a chance to play.”

“But it’s Daphne’s spot,” Emma explained. She snapped a rubber band around a stack of tickets and set them to one side. “She earned it.”

“That’s the first time Alex has been on the lineup all year.” I tried to keep my tone calm and measured. “And she won, so doesn’t that prove she deserves a chance to play?”

“It’s just not how things are done here,” Emma said.

“The girls are supposed to challenge for spots on the lineup. Alex just skipped ahead,” Ingrid added. “And really, if Coach was going to make changes to the lineup, he should have moved Callie to first court and put Alex on second. It’s not fair that Alex got the top spot the first time she played.”

“But she won,” I said again.

Anger pressed in my chest. Alex had been through a tough past year. When she won her first match for Shoreham High, it was the happiest I’d seen her look since before Ed died. Her face had been bright and her smile genuine as she waited at the net to shake hands with her opponent. As I watched her, the usual clenching in my shoulders and stomach had softened. And these women, my supposed friends, didn’t think she deserved that sliver of joy, that one moment of victory?

“I mean, we get it. You’re new,” Emma continued with a tight smile. “You don’t know how things work yet. But you’ll figure it out.”

“I don’t want to figure it out.” I could feel my cheeks flushing hot. My anger made me bolder than I would normally be. I stood, setting the list on the table. “I think I’m done.”

“I don’t know how much we’re going to accomplish without Genevieve here anyway,” Ingrid said.

“I can’t believe she just blew off the meeting. She’s the one who scheduled it.” Emma checked her phone. “She hasn’t responded to my texts, which isn’t normal for Gen.”

Emma and Ingrid didn’t seem to notice that I was upset. Or maybe they just didn’t care. I picked up my leather tote bag and stood, suddenly wanting to put as much distance as possible between us. Neither Emma nor Ingrid said a word to me as I headed toward Emma’s front door.

“I’m sure she’s fine,” Ingrid said. “I talked to her yesterday.”

“It’s just not like Gen to ignore texts,” Emma said.

“True.”

I opened the front door. Genevieve was standing there on the front porch, about to ring the doorbell. She looked flawless, as always. Her hair was blown out in a sleek blonde bob, and she wore a ribbed white tank dress. A chunky gold bracelet encircled her narrow wrist. She also looked furious. Her eyes were flashing dangerously, and her lips were drawn tightly together. I took a step back.