Red(55)

“Oh God, did he find out about your hair? Did Gabby tell him?”

“No, Mom. This isn’t about my hair. Not everything is about my hair.”

Ginger’s face relaxed, and she reached out to embrace Felicity. “Oh, sweet thing, I’m so sorry you broke up. Do you want to tell me what happened? Do you think you might get back together?”

Felicity shook her head and tried to ignore the desperate hope in her mom’s voice. “It’s definitely over. He accused me of cheating.”

“But you didn’t really cheat, did you?”

“No! God, Mom! Of course not!” She squirmed out of her mother’s grasp.

“I’m sorry, baby. I know you’d never do that. I’m just trying to get the facts straight.”

Felicity was about to answer when her phone rang and Haylie’s picture appeared on the screen. “I’m going to take this, okay? I’m fine, Mom, seriously.”

“We’ll talk about it when you get off the phone.” Ginger backed out of the room slowly, clearly unable to process the fact that Felicity wasn’t melting into a puddle of anguish. “I’ll be right downstairs whenever you need me.”

Felicity answered the phone, and it was a relief to hear Haylie’s voice. “Hey, are you okay? Where have you been? I called your phone a bunch of times last night, but it just went straight to voice mail.”

“Yeah, sorry. My phone’s been acting weird.” To deflect attention from her prom night activities, she said, “I just broke up with Brent. He accused me of cheating.”

“What? He accused you of cheating after he took someone else to prom? God, what a loser! Hang on, Ivy wants to say something. I’m putting her on speaker.”

There was a beeping sound, and then Ivy announced, “Brent’s a douche canoe. I’ll punch him in the teeth for you, if you want.”

“I can’t believe he called you a cheater,” Haylie said. “Seriously, does he think anybody’s going to believe that? You’re, like, the most honest person ever.”

A bolt of guilt shot through Felicity. “I don’t really want to talk about it. There’s nothing to say anyway. It’s just over, and it sucks. Tell me about the rest of prom. How was the party?”

“It was great, but we really missed you,” Haylie said. “Well, I did, anyway. Ivy wasn’t really aware of anything except Darren’s tongue down her throat.”

“You hooked up with Darren?” Felicity said. “That’s awesome, Ives! He’s liked you forever!”

“His tongue was not down my throat,” Ivy protested. “And can we please discuss the fact that Haylie’s delightful date found a butternut squash in the pantry and made a bong out of it?”

“He’s really not that bad,” Haylie said. “He’s just creative.”

“He’s the poster child for why people shouldn’t have babies,” Ivy said, and Felicity let out a genuine laugh for the first time all day. A surge of love for her friends welled up in her.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there last night, guys,” she said. “Everyone was staring at me and making me feel like a freak, and I couldn’t handle it. I just had to get out of there.”

“It’s fine,” Ivy said. “Seriously, don’t worry about it. You did what you had to do. You should never have to be miserable if there’s another option.”

Felicity eyed Jonathan’s jacket hanging on the back of her chair. Last night she’d taken the other option, and it had only gotten her into trouble.

But then she remembered what Jonathan had said as they’d left the restaurant: Don’t even try to pretend it wasn’t worth it.

And even now, it was. Every single moment.





    It takes a red-headed woman to get a dirty job done.

    —Bruce Springsteen, “Red-Headed Woman”





15


     MONDAY, MAY 24–THURSDAY, MAY 27


The first Miss Scarlet rehearsal was scheduled for Monday afternoon, and Felicity drove to school that morning in a car full of garment bags. All her outfits needed to be approved by the pageant committee before she wore them onstage on Saturday. Her shoes, her accessories, and a CD of “Red Is the Color of My Heart” were neatly packed in her duffel bag, which sat in the trunk next to Jonathan’s tux jacket. Lugging all her pageant gear around made the competition seem real, and it also awakened Felicity’s anxiety. For the first time, the daunting task before her seemed frightening rather than just distasteful. All her mom’s hopes and dreams were riding on her success, and for a completely different reason, so were hers.

Jonathan was waiting by her locker when she arrived at Scarletville High, wearing his school uniform of dorky glasses and a paint-spattered T-shirt and holding a CD in a plastic sleeve. “Is that for me?” Felicity called brightly.

He looked up and gave her a bashful smile. “Hey. Yeah. Here you go.” There was a piece of notebook paper sticking out of the top, but when Felicity tried to pull it out, Jonathan stopped her. “Um, that’s just the track list. Let me know what you think of the rest of the album?”

“Of course. Thanks so much. Oh, hey, I just remembered.” She lowered her voice and glanced around to make sure nobody was listening. “I still have your tux jacket in my car. Sorry I forgot to give it back to you after … the other day.”