Red(28)
If Gabby turned Rose against her, it would all be over. Felicity opened her mouth but found she had nothing more to say.
Gabby gave her a toxic little smile. “That’s what I thought.” She turned to go.
“Nobody’s going to vote for you for prom queen, you know,” Felicity called after her. “I don’t understand why you’d even want to be nominated. SHS has never had a brunette prom queen, not even once. People are just going to laugh at you.”
Gabby’s eyebrows jumped up in surprise. “I don’t think I’m going to win. I’m not delusional. This isn’t about winning.”
“Then what’s it about? Making my life miserable? Can’t you at least tell me what I did to deserve this? I mean, I’ve never bullied you or teased you or anything, and there are plenty of other people who have. So why are you taking it out on me? I’m sorry for whatever I did, if that’s what you need to hear.”
“You didn’t do anything.” As Gabby pushed the door open, Felicity could have sworn an expression of pity flickered across her face. “This isn’t about you, either.”
The door swung shut, and Felicity stood alone in the gloomy bathroom, wondering what Gabby could possibly mean. How could this not be about her? The whole point of blackmail was to control people and extort things from them. Gabby had the control thing down, but why would she bother to extort things that didn’t even benefit her? Her chances of being prom queen were lower than her chances of spontaneously combusting. There had to be an ulterior motive, and Felicity had no idea what it could be.
Her hands balled into fists as a wave of fury swept through her. She was sick of letting Gabby walk all over her for reasons she didn’t understand. If Gabby’s vendetta wasn’t personal, that made things even worse. It was one thing to pay for your mistakes and quite another to suffer when you were totally innocent.
She had to fight back somehow. Maybe she could counter with blackmail of her own. Gabby had to have a secret—everyone had something to hide. But there was nothing she could do before first period tomorrow. If Felicity didn’t cooperate at the assembly, Gabby would tell everyone she was a strawbie, and her life would be over. It was as simple as that.
For now, there was a more pressing issue at hand: what was she going to tell Haylie? Could she concoct a story about how prom committee members weren’t allowed to make nominations? No, her lie would be exposed the moment Madison Banks nominated one of her fellow cheerleaders. Should she go straight to Ivy and ask her to nominate Haylie instead? Ivy was less likely to get angry, but she’d probably ask a lot of unanswerable questions.
Felicity knew that if she didn’t leave the bathroom soon, her mom would start to worry and come looking for her. She’d have to think of a solution while circulating through the art show. So she put on her pageant smile and made her way back out into the crowd, her head spinning with questions.
When she returned to the squash courts, Felicity was greeted with the strange sight of her teacher talking to her mom. Ginger’s eyes looked a little glazed, and she was gazing slightly past Ms. Kellogg, as if she were searching for a more interesting focal point. Felicity paused just outside the door, where she could listen to their conversation without being spotted. “I hope you know how talented she is,” she heard her teacher say. “Her sculpture shows so much artistic promise.”
“Mm-hmm.” Ginger leaned down and busied herself with brushing cookie crumbs off of Tyler’s face.
“She should definitely think about pursuing art as a career. She seems interested, and I’d be happy to help with her art school applications when—”
“Thanks,” Ginger said, cutting her off. “We really have to be going.”
“Oh. Of course. Well, if you and Felicity would like to meet with me sometime and discuss options, just let me know. Here’s my card.”
Ginger walked away with a sour look on her face, both twins trailing behind her. “Oh, there you are, baby. I was just coming to look for you. I need to get the boys home.”
“Sure,” Felicity said. “Were you talking to Ms. Kellogg in there?”
Ginger rolled her eyes. “That woman has a lot of nerve, telling me what you should do with your future. I’m your mother. I’m the one who knows what’s best for you, not some strawbie from God-knows-where.”
Felicity swallowed hard. She hated contradicting her mom, but the topic had already been broached—she might as well go all in. “Actually … I think I might be interested in art school.”
“Baby, that’s totally impractical. You need to study something that will prepare you for a real job. And even if it made sense, you know we could never afford it. Scarletville Community College is a very respectable school, and that beautiful hair will get you in tuition-free.”
“But that’s what financial aid is for. Lots of people can’t afford school and still manage to go.”
Ginger’s look darkened. “Felicity St. John, this family does not accept charity from anyone. If you want to move up in the world, you have to do it yourself. I grew up with practically nothing, but I worked my fingers to the bone, and I bettered myself, and I made sure I could provide my children with a good life. So don’t you dare throw it all back in my face by acting like a spoiled brat who expects everything to be handed to her on a silver platter.”