Red(12)

Felicity hoped the brunettes would talk amongst themselves and leave her to talk to her own friends, and Marina and Sayuri did exactly that. But Gabby dug into her mini pizza, then looked at Felicity expectantly, clearly waiting for her to say something. “I like your sandals,” Felicity finally said, at a loss for any other common ground between them.

“Thanks,” Gabby said. “They were on sale at Flame Footwear. Pretty much everything in there right now is covered in glitter and rhinestones, what with prom and the pageant coming up. It’s absolutely vomit-inducing.” She wrinkled her nose as if she’d just found an unexpected anchovy on her pizza. “But I guess that’s all you guys are thinking about right now, huh?”

“Not really,” Felicity snapped, before she remembered the note.

Act like you want every brunette in this school to be your best friend.

She softened her tone. “I mean, there’s still a lot coming up before that, like the art show.”

“Right, you’re curating that. Must be nice to be in charge of something, huh?”

Felicity nodded, letting the irony of the statement sink in. She had never felt less in control than she felt right now.

Sometimes Felicity had dreams in which she was performing in a play but had forgotten all her lines, and that’s exactly what the rest of lunch felt like. Her stomach clenched into a tight knot that left no room for her sandwich, which she threw out after only two bites. When Amanda Westin passed their table on her way to the vending machines, Felicity complimented her new haircut, and Amanda stared at her as if she’d sprouted several additional heads. Gabby continued to make disparaging comments about the pageant, and Felicity couldn’t refute them, just in case her blackmailer was listening. She prayed she was getting credit for her self-sacrifice. It was possible her rival didn’t even have fifth-period lunch, in which case she was doing all this for nothing.

When the bell finally rang, it sounded sweet as a chorus of angels. Felicity finally allowed herself a sigh of relief after the three brunettes had gone.

“What was that about?” Haylie asked as soon as they were alone. “Since when are you all buddy-buddy with Gabby Vaughn and her weird friends?”

“I’m not,” Felicity said. “I just felt bad ’cause Lorelei was being so awful. She dumped her entire drink on Marina.”

“That stuff happens all the time,” Haylie said. “Since when is it our problem?”

“I guess it’s not. But they were standing right here being like, ‘Can we sit with you?’ What was I supposed to do, say, ‘No, please leave so I can talk to my friends?’ ”

“Well, yeah. That’s what anyone would have done. That’s what I was trying to do, before you were all, ‘Please sit down and be my BFF.’ ”

“Sorry,” Felicity said, a little desperate. “I didn’t know you would care that much. I was just trying to be a decent person.”

“It’s fine,” Ivy said. “It’s not a big deal. I think it’s nice that you stood up for them.”

Haylie tossed her bag over her shoulder. “Whatever. But if you want to be friends with brunette freaks, could you maybe do it on your own time?”

Ivy started laughing. “God, Hays, you’re such a jerk.”

“I am so not! I don’t see what’s so terrible about wanting to eat lunch alone with my own friends!”

Felicity followed Haylie and Ivy out of the cafeteria, only half listening to their bickering. Her head was starting to throb, and she closed her eyes and massaged her temples. She couldn’t let a simple conversation with a bunch of brunettes rattle her like this. After all, this was probably just the beginning of what was in store for her.

She was going to have to toughen up.

Felicity was exhausted by the end of the day, and she had to force herself not to skip the prom committee meeting after school. She had only joined the committee because they’d needed an artist to design the decorations, and it had seemed like the perfect compromise. Felicity could spend hours painting after school, and her mom never complained that she was wasting her time making art when she was surrounded by popular people, working for a “worthy cause.” She was always bored to tears by the meetings, but at least there were no brunettes on the committee, so she didn’t have to worry about being ambushed.

When she arrived, everyone except Madison Banks was grouped around Cassie, who was showing off something on her phone. Madison was perched on the teacher’s desk, sorting through a stack of papers and ignoring everyone. Their faculty adviser, Mr. Mulligan, was nowhere to be found. He had failed to show up so many times that most people had forgotten he had anything to do with the prom committee.

“Hey, Felicity,” Cassie called. “Come check out the pageant dress I’m ordering!”

Felicity squeezed into the huddle between Savannah King and Topher Gleason, the only boy on the committee, to get a look at the dress. It looked more like a large baby-blue shower loofah than an article of clothing. “Wow, Cassie,” she said. “That’s … pretty amazing.”

Cassie beamed. “I know, isn’t it? Have you gotten yours yet?”

“Not yet. I’m going shopping this weekend with Haylie and Ivy.”

Topher sighed dramatically. “Why can’t boys be in the pageant? I’d make a killer Miss Scarlet.” Felicity didn’t doubt it. Topher had better legs than most of the girls in the school, and he knew it. The majority of his pants were so tight, they looked as if they’d been spray-painted on.