Red(7)

“Bye, Lissy,” they chorused.

Felicity walked out into the breezy spring air and headed for their car. The unwieldy Chevy was a hand-me-down from their neighbor Victor, who lived in the other half of their duplex. When he had upgraded to a hybrid last year, he had given his old car to Felicity. It was lime green, and it had multicolored peace signs stenciled on the trunk, the hood, and the driver’s-side door. Victor called the car Yoko, a tradition Felicity faithfully maintained. Although Ginger was always on her case about getting Yoko a new paint job, Felicity liked the absurdity of the peace signs. She had worried at first that she would be ridiculed for driving such a flamboyant car, but it had only made people consider her delightfully quirky. A non-redhead never could have gotten away with it.

Felicity stopped for her daily double-mocha latte, then pulled into the student parking lot at Scarletville High. She parked in the row closest to the doors—the best spots were unofficially reserved for the students with the reddest hair. When she entered the school, everyone looked up at her and started murmuring amongst themselves, and for a horrible moment Felicity thought she was back in The Dream. But there was no jeering, only broad, warm smiles. School was always like this the day after the Miss Scarlet competitors were announced—Felicity had just never been on this side of the equation before. The pageant would be everyone’s main topic of conversation for the next month, which meant she’d be in the spotlight even more than usual. She tried to follow her mom’s advice and hold her head high as people cleared a path for her, but she had no control over the squirmy feeling in her stomach.

Haylie and Ivy were waiting by her locker. As she got closer, Felicity noticed the homemade sign taped to the door that read congratulations, felicity! go miss scarlet! in glitter. It was signed from SASH, the Spirit Association of Scarletville High. When she glanced down the hall, she saw that there were signs taped to the other contestants’ lockers as well. Ivy carried the remains of her sign, folded into quarters and leaking a steady stream of glitter onto the floor.

“So, we need to go dress shopping,” Haylie said in lieu of a greeting. “Which weekend are you free? Can we take Yoko? All the good dresses in Scarletville are going to get snapped up right away, so we’ll probably have to drive down to Iowa City or Cedar Rapids. My mom’s college roommate owns this boutique in Iowa City called Lulu Levine, so we can probably get discounts there. And she’s a redhead, so I trust her to show us good stuff.”

“Good morning to you, too,” Felicity said. “I have to ask my mom. And I have a bunch of stuff to do for the art show and the prom committee.”

“Seriously? Dress shopping?” Ivy gave her sign another twist. “I didn’t realize I’d have to spend money on this stupid pageant. Can’t I just wear one of your old gowns, Hays?”

Haylie looked at Ivy as if she had just suggested wearing a dress made of dead weasels. “Are you kidding? You can’t wear a hand-me-down for Miss Scarlet! And stop mutilating your sign. You’re getting glitter all over your shoes.”

A pair of strong freckled arms locked around Felicity’s waist from behind, followed by a nose nuzzling her neck. “Hey, Lissy,” Brent’s voice said close to her ear. “You smell awesome.”

Felicity had repeatedly asked Brent not to call her “Lissy,” a nickname that was reserved for her brothers. She thought about reminding him again, but really, what was the point? He’d be genuinely sorry, and his wide-eyed, penitent look would make her forgive him. But he’d do the exact same thing tomorrow. It was less work to just swallow her annoyance. Besides, the nuzzling was sending a rather pleasant shiver down her spine. So she just smiled and said, “Thanks. How’re you?”

“Better now.” He kissed her neck. “We had a solid practice this morning. Coach says I have great hustle.”

Felicity didn’t have the slightest idea what that meant. “That’s great, babe.” He nuzzled her again in response.

“Get a room, people.” Haylie wrinkled her tiny nose. Felicity knew her friend was jealous that she had such a cute redheaded jock for a boyfriend. She wished she could explain that dating Brent was usually more like caring for a puppy than having a relationship, but Haylie would just think she was playing things down to be nice. Plus, her friends could never know she felt ambivalent toward Brent, or they would wonder why she stayed with him. The truth was that in addition to having some genuinely good qualities, Brent was insurance for Felicity—he added to her redhead credibility, or her “red cred,” as she secretly thought of it. People were less likely to suspect her hair color wasn’t natural when she was dating one of the most popular guys on the football team.

“Hey, do you guys want to come over after school and look at pageant dresses online?” Haylie asked.

“Oooh, I’d hate to miss that, but I have swim practice,” said Ivy. “Thanks anyway.”

“Sorry, Hays, I’ve got to pick up the twins,” Felicity said. Her supposed babysitting duties were very convenient excuses whenever she had appointments at the salon. “We’ll do it soon, though.”

The first bell rang, and Haylie and Ivy took off down the hall. Felicity’s first class, History of Redheadedness, was just around the corner, and she gently unlatched Brent’s arms so she could dig through her locker for her textbook. “Can I come over and see you tonight?” Brent asked. “We could watch a movie. Or not watch one.” He wiggled his eyebrows.