Red(65)

Ivy found her as she was digging through a costume rack for her personal introduction outfit. “It’s completely insane out there,” her friend said, eyes wide. “Is it like this every year?”

“Pretty much.” Felicity found her outfit and extracted it. “Are you nervous?”

“I wasn’t before, but I am now. I’m kind of afraid people are going to mob the stage and start speaking in tongues or something.”

“Is Darren coming?”

“Are you kidding? I’d never subject him to a pageant.”

“Hey, Ives?” Felicity said. “Thanks for going through with this. I know how much you hate being here.”

Ivy shrugged. “It’s okay—it’s not that big a deal. I know how important it is to you and Haylie. And it might be fun for the audience to see something a little different up there for once.”

Cassie bounded over to retrieve her costume. She looked as if she’d had a play date with a jet engine and then dipped her head in shellac. “Wow, Cass,” Felicity said. “Your hair is … really something.”

“Isn’t it?” Cassie spun around to show off the back, which resembled a mound of cotton batting that had been gnawed by rats. “My stylist said messy was all the rage this year.”

“Is her stylist a category-five hurricane?” Ivy muttered under her breath, and Felicity tried to cover her giggles with a coughing fit.

They were headed back toward the mirrors when Felicity noticed Ariel, the pageant’s token strawbie, sitting across the room and roughing up the bottoms of her new heels with sandpaper. Her long straight hair fell around her shoulders like a curtain as she leaned forward over the shoes, and Felicity was surprised by how beautiful it looked. All the other girls were mingling and chatting, but everyone looked right through Ariel as if she were invisible. When she thought back, Felicity realized she hadn’t seen anyone speak to Ariel during the rehearsals, either. She certainly hadn’t made any effort to do so herself, despite the fact that underneath a coat of dye, they were exactly the same.

She was no better than the rest of Scarletville. No matter what Felicity’s new music said, she would be a cookie-cutter girl until she stopped acting like one.

“Go ahead,” Felicity told Ivy. “I’ll be right there.” And before she could think too much about it, she marched over and sat down next to her fellow strawbie.

“Hey,” she said.

Ariel looked up, surprised, and glanced over her shoulder. When she finally determined that the greeting was intended for her, she gave Felicity a tiny, puzzled smile. “Hi?”

Felicity realized too late that she had nothing to say, and a long, awkward silence stretched between them. Finally, she blurted out, “So … how’re you feeling about this whole … thing?”

“I’m so excited, but I’m really, really nervous. You have any tips? You were so great in Miss Ruby Red—I still remember that dance you did, with the feathers on your costume? You totally should have won over Madison.”

Felicity smiled. “Thanks. Don’t worry, you’re going to be fine out there. It’s all about confidence. Even if you have no idea what you’re doing, just act like you do, and everyone will believe it.” That’s what I do every day of my life. “What’s your talent? I didn’t get to see yesterday.”

“Scottish Highland dancing. I’m doing a sword dance.”

“A sword dance? Like, with real swords?”

“Yup.” Ariel reached into her duffel bag and pulled out two long blades, and Felicity recoiled. “It’s okay, they’re not sharp. And I don’t swing them around like a ninja or anything. I just put them on the floor and jump over them a lot.”

Across the room, Haylie finished her meditation and flickered back to life, and she beamed and waved when she spotted Felicity. “I should go get ready,” Felicity told Ariel. “But break a leg today.”

“Thanks.” Ariel flashed her first genuine smile, and it lit up her whole face. “Kick Madison’s butt this time, okay?”

Felicity returned to her table, and Haylie jumped up to hug her. “I am so ready for this,” she squealed. “I feel like I’m totally in the zone, you know?”

Before Felicity could respond, Madison brushed by. “Hey, Felicity, I meant to tell you yesterday that your dance costume is super cute. I used to have a jacket just like that, with a big sparkly heart on it. I think I was in … second grade?” She gave a simpering smile and flounced away, her curls bobbing in an excellent imitation of Georgia Kellerman’s.

“Don’t let her get to you,” Haylie said. “Your tap costume is cute.”

Felicity sighed; her stupid costume was the only thing she hadn’t been able to fix at the last minute. “No, she’s right. That heart is hideous.”

“There’s nothing you can do about it now, so just try to forget about it,” Ivy said. “You only have to wear it for three minutes.”

“Hey, can I use this?” Haylie asked, reaching for Felicity’s lint brush. She bumped the black Sharpie, which fell off the table and rolled across the linoleum. As Felicity bent to pick it up, she froze, suddenly struck by a flash of inspiration.

There was something she could do about the jacket.