Red(45)

Felicity took a deep breath. “He got matched with Gabby Vaughn.”

Haylie and Ivy exchanged a long look, and Felicity’s heart began to race. Her friends were clearly aware that something didn’t quite add up. “Does this have to do with the trouble you were in before?” Haylie finally asked.

“What?”

“I mean, something’s obviously going on with you and Gabby. I’d never even seen you speak to her before this month, and then she’s suddenly at our lunch table, and her painting’s in the art show, and then you nominated her for prom queen, and now this. Is she, like, blackmailing you or something?”

Felicity’s heart was pounding so hard now that she felt slightly dizzy. She grabbed the edge of the sink for support and forced a laugh. “What? Blackmailing me? Of course not. And no, this doesn’t have to do with any of that stuff. It’s just a coincidence.” She could tell her friends weren’t buying her story. “Guys, come on. Don’t look at me like that. I’m already having the suckiest prom night ever, and now you’re making me feel like it’s my fault.”

Haylie slipped an arm around her waist. “Nobody thinks it’s your fault. I’m so sorry this is happening to you, and we’ll do everything we can to make sure you have fun tonight. Okay?”

“I’ll punch Gabby in the face if it’ll make you feel better,” Ivy offered. “I’m small, but I’m scrappy. I could totally take her.” She held up her tiny fists, and Felicity finally managed a weak smile.

“You ready to go back out?” Haylie asked. “I’m starving, and the pesto tortellini here is so good.”

Felicity nodded and followed her friends back to the table. When the waiter came, she asked him to remove the sixth place setting.

Dinner was a blur. The threads of various conversations wove lazily around each other, but Felicity had trouble following any of them. She sat quietly at the table, mechanically moving her fork to her mouth, but her mind was a cyclone. What would happen when they got to prom and everyone saw Brent with Gabby? Would her classmates point and laugh at her, like they always did in The Dream? What if someone figured out this was a setup and there was no athletic scholarship? Was taking the blackmail lying down really the best way to protect her secret and her family? What if her mom was wrong? What if Felicity could make this all go away by landing one good strike on Gabby’s weak point? But what was Gabby’s weak point?

By the time the check had been paid and everyone was ready to go, Felicity felt queasy and exhausted and headachy, and she wasn’t sure she could go through with prom after all. Maybe she should just go home and hide under the covers. She closed her eyes and massaged her aching temples.

“Felicity?” Ivy said, gently shaking her shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“I don’t feel very good,” she said.

Ivy rubbed her back, a distinctly un-Ivy-like gesture, and Felicity realized she must look pretty terrible. “Are you going to throw up?”

“No, I don’t think so. Just … I don’t know. My head hurts and I’m kind of dizzy.” She hoped Ivy would suggest she go home—if someone else said it first, it wouldn’t count as chickening out.

“Tonight really isn’t working out for you, huh? You probably shouldn’t drive if you feel dizzy. Why don’t you come with us, and someone can drop you back here to pick up your car after the party. If you’re feeling really awful, I’ll take you home sooner, okay?”

Felicity nodded and let Ivy lead her to the car, but even her friend’s steady hand on her back couldn’t chase away her dread.

Darren and Ivy kept up a steady stream of chatter all the way to the school, but the ride wasn’t nearly long enough for Felicity to steel her nerves. Before she knew it, she was ordering her body to follow her friends across the parking lot, one red-heeled foot in front of the other. In moments, she was swept up into a flash flood of rainbow-colored prom-goers. There was no escape now.

Felicity put on her most convincing smile and let herself be funneled through the door of the school. She produced her ticket, had her hand stamped, and then she was back in the gym. Her friends gasped and congratulated her on how beautiful the decorations looked, but she hardly heard the praise. All she could do was watch the door, waiting for Brent and Gabby to arrive.

That was hardly necessary—their entrance a few minutes later was impossible to miss. It affected the crowd like a lightning bolt, spreading crackles of electricity through the room. Every coiffed head snapped to attention as the couple glided through the doorway arm in arm. Brent was gorgeous and regal in his tux, and Gabby was resplendent in a backless satin gown the color of fresh blood. They left a trail of whispered fragments in their wake as they crossed the floor: “Did you see … ? But why are they … ? Isn’t he supposed to be with … ?”

And then came the ubiquitous, “Where’s Felicity? Does she know?”

Even with her advance knowledge of what was going to happen, Felicity was totally unprepared to see Brent and Gabby together in person. Watching her boyfriend with her nemesis was like having an open chest wound sprinkled with lemon juice and salt. The fact that they looked good together made things even worse. When Brent located Felicity in the crowd, his eyes were full of hurt and longing. Felicity’s hand flew to her mouth, trying to trap her emotions before they turned into words.