Red(35)

“That’s enough for now,” Ginger finally said. “Let’s take a quick break, and then we’ll work on your walks and poses and your personal introduction. Go get the rest of your competition shoes.” She handed Felicity a water bottle and a towel, then patted her sweaty back. “You really pulled it together, baby. I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks,” Felicity said. Much as she hated to admit it, her mom’s approval made her feel better.

While Ginger checked on the twins, Felicity went up to her room to retrieve her heels—black ones for her personal introduction, red ones to go with her swimsuit, and silver ones to match her evening gown. She also checked her voice mail, but there were no messages, and her email in-box was empty, too. She tried not to let it bother her too much; Haylie probably just needed some time to cool down. But Felicity couldn’t help feeling as if she had done permanent damage to their friendship.

She returned to the basement, buckled her first pair of shoes, and spent the next hour practicing her poses and pageant walks—bouncy and energetic for the swimsuit portion, smooth and elegant for the evening wear competition. Ginger hovered and buzzed around her like an annoying dragonfly, adjusting Felicity’s body by millimeters and saying, “Feel that? See how that tiny head tilt makes such a difference?” It all felt pretty much the same to Felicity, but she tried her best to remember each angle and posture. Then she practiced her thirty-second introduction over and over as her mom corrected her inflection and pacing, told her when to pause and smile, and reminded her over and over how important first impressions were. She didn’t seem to remember that several of the judges had known Felicity since her birth.

Finally, Ginger nodded with satisfaction. “Good job. I just want to do one last thing, and then we’ll be done. Can you put your tailcoat on and try your tap routine one more time? I brought it down for you.”

Felicity was exhausted, and the last thing she wanted to do was repeat her routine. “Why? It’s not like it’s any different with the jacket.”

“Just put it on, baby.” Ginger pointed at a chair in the corner, and Felicity noticed for the first time that her costume was draped over the back.

“Why is it in plastic?” she asked, suddenly suspicious.

“It’s just a little surprise for you. Go on, take a look!”

Felicity approached the chair with apprehension. She had chosen her tap costume because it was simple and classic: a short black jacket with tails, a black sequined tank top, black pants with tuxedo stripes, and a silver belt. It wasn’t nearly flashy enough for Ginger’s taste, and Felicity was terrified of what her mom might have done to it. But when she peered down at the jacket, it looked exactly the same as it always had. What was her mom so excited about?

“Look at the back!” Ginger urged.

Felicity picked up the jacket and flipped it over.

The back of her simple, no-frills tailcoat was now decorated with an enormous red heart made of tiny, sparkly jewels. It looked like something Topher Gleason might wear to a Valentine’s Day dance. Felicity was speechless with dismay. “Wow,” she choked out.

“Isn’t it amazing? Linda at the tailor did such a wonderful job. I knew you would love it. It spices up the outfit so much, don’t you think? This’ll really make you stand out to the judges, especially because it matches your music. Try it on!”

There was no use resisting. Felicity freed the costume from its plastic sheath and slipped it on over her tank top. Her mom squealed with delight when she turned around and displayed her bejeweled back.

“It’s perfect,” Ginger declared, squeezing her. “Perfect for my winner.”

Felicity submitted to the hug. “Thanks, Mom,” she said with as much enthusiasm as she could muster. “It was really nice of you to do this.” She tried not to think about how much money her mom had probably spent on this jacket.

“It was my pleasure. Now do the routine for me one more time. I want to see how the jacket looks when you dance.”

So Felicity sighed, laced her tap shoes back up, and did the routine again, the heart on her back winking and sparkling in the light.





10


     MONDAY, MAY 17


When Felicity got to school, Ivy was waiting at her locker alone. Felicity held out her coffee cup to see if the morning routine was still intact, and she was relieved when Ivy reached for it with no hesitation. Her friend took her customary gulp and handed the cup back with a sigh. “Felicity, this has to stop.”

“What, the coffee? I only have one cup a day.”

Ivy frowned. “No, not the coffee. You and Haylie have to make up. All she did the entire weekend was obsess over why you didn’t nominate her for prom queen. I can’t listen to it for one more second or I’m going to puncture my own eardrums with a fork.”

So Haylie’s fury was subsiding—that was good news. Angry Haylie was impossible to reason with, but hurt Haylie just needed love and validation, things Felicity could easily provide. “I tried calling her seven or eight times to apologize, but she never got back to me,” Felicity said. “I assumed she was still too pissed to talk.”

“She is. But she also keeps saying she thinks we’re losing you and that you don’t like us anymore. She’s afraid you’re still going to be fighting by prom and that ‘everything will be ruined.’ And she made me go shopping for pageant shoes with her for three hours. Seriously, Felicity, you have to do something.”