The Best Laid Plans(87)

“Can you guys hear me?” Mr. Harrison asks. There’s an unenthusiastic murmuring from the crowd.

“Oh, just get on with it,” Danielle hisses, taking a sip of her soda. She sets it down on the table and brings a hand up to smooth down her hair. She doesn’t need to. She still looks perfect.

“You seem pretty confident,” Ava whispers in the loud way people do when they’re tipsy.

“I am,” Danielle says. “I mean, it’s kind of obvious.” She pauses for a second and then looks around at all of us. “No offense.”

“Oh, it’s obvious?” Ava asks, her voice rising a few decibels. Ava has never been good at keeping quiet, and now that she’s had a few glasses of champagne, she’s projecting in her full musical theater voice. She folds her arms in front of her, raising her boobs up in the process, so they’re dangerously close to spilling out of her strapless gown. “I’m glad it’s so obvious to you. Wouldn’t want any of the rest of us to get our hopes up.”

Mr. Harrison’s voice comes again, amplified across the ballroom. “All right, so prom court is only open to senior Prescott students. Apologies to all of you underclassmen. You’ll get your shot later.”

“Oh please, Ava,” Danielle says. She motions a hand toward Ava’s cleavage. “You shouldn’t go up onstage anyway, because you’ll just flash everyone. I’m saving you the humiliation. Like usual.”

“Come on, guys,” Hannah whispers. “It’s just stupid prom. This isn’t the Nobel Peace Prize.”

Ava’s face remains stony, her gaze fixed on Danielle across the table. Her eyes are glistening slightly in the corners, matching the sparkling glitter on her eyelids. She takes a quick breath, and when she speaks, her voice is high and strained.

“Well, I don’t think they’d give Prom Queen to someone who tastes like rotten fish.”

Danielle’s head snaps around and her eyes bulge. “What did you just say to me?”

Ava’s bottom lip quivers, but she stares unblinkingly back at Danielle. Andrew is looking straight ahead, back rigid, eyes on the stage. His ears are pink.

Mr. Harrison speaks again. “Can I get a big round of applause for the folks at the Walcott for helping out with this event?” There’s a smattering of weak applause. “And for the prom committee for all their dedicated work. You guys rock! It really does look like we’re under the sea.”

Dean leans close to me, nudging his shoulder against mine, and whispers in my ear. “Now do you get why it’s so high school?” He laughs. “What do you think—Heathers or Mean Girls? I guess it depends what decade you’re into.”

“Not everything has to be a movie reference,” I spit, more aggressively than I mean to. I love movie references. But sometimes it feels like they’re all Dean has.

“I said,” Ava starts, “I don’t think they’d give Prom Queen to someone who—”

“I heard what you said,” Danielle snaps. “I just want to know why you said it. Why the fuck would you say that to me?” Her voice is rising in volume, and at the curse word a few people at the next table look over. She sighs and lowers her voice. “I think you’ve had too much to drink.”

“Oh look, you’re telling me what to do again,” Ava says. “Surprise, surprise, surprise.”

“Can you just cool it?” Danielle hisses. “You’re totally out of line.”

Ava raises her hand up in a salute. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

Dean snorts next to me and covers his mouth, fighting off a laugh.

Mr. Harrison speaks again, and I turn back to the stage. “All right, so let me bring up the head of your prom committee. She’s got a few announcements to make for you guys, so hold tight. Sophie Piznarski!”

As Sophie walks up the steps and takes the microphone, I can’t help flashing back to what she told us earlier. I can’t believe I didn’t know Sophie is a virgin too.

Ava is speaking again. “Am I allowed to take another sip of my drink?” She holds up her glass, tilting it forward so some of the liquid threatens to spill out and onto the table. “Or is that against your rules?”

“Do what you want,” Danielle snaps. “You’re already a train wreck.”

Ava sets her glass down with a thunk. Her expression looks hurt, eyes big and droopy like a puppy that’s just been kicked. Her bottom lip quivers again, like she’s holding back tears. And then she takes a breath, pressing her lips together in a hard line. Her eyes narrow, hurt flashing into anger. “I wrote everything.”

Danielle doesn’t move, doesn’t give any indication she’s heard Ava at all. But then I see her hand, the one resting on the table, clench into a fist. She turns to Ava slowly. “I need to talk to you. I need to talk to you outside so there won’t be any witnesses when I kill you.” She stands up, her knees knocking against the table, and grabs Ava by the arm.

“Ow!” Ava whines, trying to shake off Danielle’s hand, which has settled clawlike into the skin of her arm. They disappear through the side door. I look up at Hannah, hoping she’ll know what to do.

“I think she might really kill her,” I say. “Should we . . .”

She follows my gaze over to the door and then we both jump up and follow them. When we get outside, we almost run over Susie Palmer, who’s leaning against the wall, smoking. I know she’s probably hiding—from Ryder and Ava; from the fact that she was his first choice last night and now she’s not. It’s easier to hide than to act like you don’t care.