Red(70)

Felicity took them—there was no resisting tough-love Haylie. “Sorry I didn’t get to see your talent,” she told Ivy. “I totally freaked out up there.”

“It’s fine. You really didn’t miss much. But I’m happy to play you a medley of patriotic tunes on the kazoo while walking on my hands any time, if you feel deprived.”

“I should have been there to support you, though. I’m screwing everything up.” A fresh flood of tears threatened to spill over, and Haylie pointed sternly at the sink.

“If you don’t wash your face, I’m going to have to do it for you,” she said.

Felicity obediently scrubbed off her makeup, then sat slumped on the closed toilet lid as Haylie applied a new layer of foundation. “This is hardly even worth it now,” she complained. “You guys should just go get yourselves ready. At least you’re still in the running.”

“It’ll take me two minutes to get dressed,” Haylie said. “Keep your eyes closed. Besides, it is worth it. They might not disqualify you. And if all they do is dock points, you have to pull yourself together and rock the interview section. Which is fine, ’cause you’re great at this part. You never get tongue-tied or say stupid stuff.”

“God, what do you think Cassie will say?” mused Ivy. “Do you think she’ll go off on a tangent? ’Cause then she’ll never win this pa-pa-pageant.” Felicity smiled despite herself.

Haylie expertly blended Felicity’s eye shadow with quick, gentle strokes. “It would be worth it even if you were disqualified. We’re all in this together, remember? We’ve got your back, even when you mess up. No, don’t you dare cry again.”

Felicity sniffled, then laughed. “Okay. Thanks.”

By the time she was fully made up and dressed, it was impossible to tell she had ever been crying. “There,” Haylie said, pleased with her handiwork. She gripped Felicity firmly by the shoulders. “Now, you’re going to go out there and finish this thing with your head held high, like nothing ever happened, okay? The judges want to see confidence and composure, and that’s what you’re going to show them. Right?”

Felicity nodded, feeling a little stronger. “Right.”

“And you look bitchin’,” Ivy chimed in. “You have the best dress out of everyone. No offense, Haylie.”

Felicity laughed. “Did you seriously just say ‘bitchin’ ’?”

“Seven minutes!” shouted Brenda from the other side of the bathroom door.

“We have to go get ready.” Haylie grabbed Ivy and dragged her out of the bathroom.

“That’s right,” Ivy called over her shoulder. “Bitchin’.”

Felicity glided through the evening-wear portion in a daze. She beamed at the judges as she floated around the stage in her perfect gown, but Gabby was the only thing on her mind. She might have lost the Miss Scarlet prize money, but in five minutes she would have an even better reward: her secret would be safe.

When the girls formed a semicircle around the microphone for the interview portion, Felicity’s heart began to pound so hard she feared it might climb up her throat and fly out of her mouth. Haylie went first, chic and glittering in her backless gown. She was eloquent and composed as she answered a question about the role of social networking in society. Cassie’s question dealt with whether the pageant’s swimsuit competition was becoming archaic, and she stumbled through a disjointed response, obviously unclear on the meaning of the pivotal adjective. Ariel gave a heartfelt speech about how her older sister was the most influential person in her life.

And then it was Felicity’s turn.

She stepped up to the microphone. Donna Marie opened envelope number four and smiled at her, blissfully unaware that the question she held was a fake. “Felicity, Scarletville was founded as a sanctuary for redheads. How do you think having non-redheads living in our town enriches or detracts from our community?”

Felicity met Gabby’s expectant eyes, and suddenly, she wasn’t afraid. This ends now, she thought. But just as she was about to speak, she heard a little voice yell, “Go, Felicity!”

On the far left side of the auditorium, Felicity spotted tiny Katie Vaughn, who was being violently shushed by everyone around her. She was wearing a brilliant red party dress and bouncing up and down in her seat. Gabby’s two middle sisters sat on her right, and Rose was on her left. All four pairs of chocolate-brown eyes shone with admiration as they looked up at Felicity. The Vaughns were rooting for her, and here she was, about to destroy them.

Felicity felt as if she’d been punched in the stomach, and her breath caught in her throat. She closed her eyes and struggled to regain the impassive determination she’d felt just a moment before. She concentrated on how much she hated Gabby, how horrible it had felt to be manipulated, and she opened her mouth and tried again to speak.

But it was no use. She couldn’t go through with it.

Gabby had no qualms about ruining an innocent life to better her own chances. But Felicity wasn’t like her, and she couldn’t stoop to that level. No matter how furious she was, it just wasn’t in her to take someone else down so that she could keep standing.

She opened her eyes and looked at Jonathan, who respected her for being herself. She looked at Ms. Kellogg, who had told her there were places in the world where strawberry-blond wasn’t less than red. And she realized there was another way to end this.