Envy (Fury) (8 page)

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Authors: Elizabeth Miles

BOOK: Envy (Fury)
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And so they began poring over the book. Skylar turned the pages slowly, picking out Gabby and her friends among the candid shots at pep rallies and dances.

As she flipped through, trying to find the sports pages so she could show Meg a picture of Pierce, she passed the section that
highlighted Ascension’s artsy types. On the fine arts page she saw a charcoal drawing, heavy and dark, of an open eye surrounded by drooping flowers and bones. It was untitled, and done by someone named Sasha Bowlder. The picture startled her, and for a moment she couldn’t look away.

“That’s a beautiful piece,” Meg said, touching it lightly with a slender finger. “Too bad someone defaced it.”

Over the drawing someone had scrawled
Witch
in blue pen. The image, taken as a whole, made Skylar feel weird.

She was happy to find the sports section, and even more pleased to see a feature about Pierce:
Freshman Football Phenom
, it was called, and it described how last year Pierce was the first frosh to make it onto the varsity team in almost a decade.

“That’s the guy I have a crush on,” she said, feeling young and foolish. “He’s a football player. He’s really popular. Apparently he’s going to be Ascension’s starting quarterback next fall. He’d never notice me.”

“Um, the football player who
lent you his sweatshirt
?” Meg cried, running the brush through Skylar’s hair a few more times. “I’d say he’s already ripe for the picking. And,” she added as she finished, stood Skylar up, and spun her around, “if he didn’t notice you before, he’ll definitely notice you now.”

•  •  •

With newfound confidence, Skylar strutted through the doors of Ascension High on Thursday morning, sporting her new scarf
and freshly highlighted, blown-out blond hair. She’d paired the scarf with a black crewneck top and light-wash jeans.

She looked cool. Effortless. Not like the shy girl in the pretty pink cardigan she’d been on Monday.

Then she saw Gabby down the hall and stopped dead in her tracks. Blond, adorable, perfectly dressed Gabby—wearing the same scarf as Skylar.
Skulls and all.

Oh god. Skylar knew she was violating one of the top ten Rules of High School: Don’t wear the same thing as one of the most popular girls in school.

But when Gabby got closer, she smiled. “Hey—nice scarf,” she said, and winked.

Skylar cleared her throat. “Yeah, it’s—it’s new.” Was Gabby seriously giving her a break?

“I love how from far away the skulls look like tiny hearts,” Gabby mused, examining it. “But then up close it’s a little bit more hard-core.”

Gabby was wearing the scarf with a button up white shirt and jeans; wrapped around her neck, the scarf looked casual and cozy—not goth at all.

“So, how are things going?” Gabby asked. “You finding your way around okay?”

“Oh, sure,” Skylar said, as though she hadn’t spent every day this week compulsively checking the school map to make sure she was going in the right direction. “Everyone’s being really
nice.” Also a lie. But she was determined to appear confident right now.

The bell rang, and Skylar waited for Gabby to run back to her friends. But she didn’t. Instead, she asked, “Where’s your homeroom? Want to walk together?”

“It’s in the humanities wing,” Skylar said, her heart secretly exploding at the chance to walk through the halls with Gabby.

“Yay! Mine too.” As they started walking, Gabby pointed to a colorful poster taped to the wall. “Are you coming to the dance?”

Skylar looked at the poster, which was adorned with bright flowers. The Spring Fling. A little over three weeks away. Terrific. Now on top of adjusting to a new school, she had a dance to worry about. As though she wasn’t sufficiently aware of her loneliness. . . .

“I hadn’t really thought about it,” she said honestly.

“Neither has anyone else,” Gabby said, suddenly sounding despondent. “I’m chair of the planning committee for all the school dances, but we’ve barely made any progress. My own best friend doesn’t even remember the meetings.”

This was her opportunity. Meg’s voice sounded in her head:
Be seen. Be visible. Get involved.

“I like planning dances,” Skylar said, even though she’d never planned a dance in her life. “When’s the next meeting?”

Gabby grabbed her arm and the thousand-watt smile returned. “Oh my god! You should totally join the committee!
Everyone is great—totally the cream of Ascension’s crop—but we are desperate for some new blood. Come to the meeting tomorrow!”

Skylar McVoy. Planning dances. Friends with the most popular girl in school. She was liking the sound of this. And it was happening so fast!

“I just had the best idea,” Gabby went on. “Are you free after school? Why don’t we go to the mall and look around, brainstorm, see if we can come up with any great ideas for the dance—or for our outfits.”

“I’m not booked yet,” she said, dying to tell Meg about this fantastic turn of events. “That sounds great.”

“Plus, I’m thinking of having a pajama party really soon. Maybe next weekend. Isn’t that a great idea? So we can totally go to Victoria’s Secret and look for some cute pj’s.”

Skylar could have broken into a happy dance. Had Gabby just invited her to go shopping
and
to a party? Skylar could only grin and nod.

In homeroom she pulled out her phone below the desk.
You were right about the scarf—and my hair,
she texted Meg.
I think I made my first friend (besides you)! Headed to the mall after school.

•  •  •

On the way to the “old mall” that afternoon, the cold winter sunshine blazing through Gabby’s windshield, Gabby went on about how excited she was for the day when all the best stores
transferred over to the new mall, the Behemoth. “I just love shopping in brand-new stores. Everything’s so clean and shiny,” she chirped.

Skylar smiled.

When they got to the mall, Skylar trailed Gabby through several stores, fingering the same fabrics, smelling the same lotions, trying not to get too nervous.

Don’t mess this up!
she kept thinking.

“I want something girly and lacy,” Gabby said as they walked into Victoria’s Secret. “But also something that has coverage, you know? There will be boys there, after all.”

A coed pajama party? Skylar bet Lucy had never attended one of those.

“How about this for you?” Skylar held up an orange-and-pink shorts set.

“That’s the right idea,” Gabby said, nodding encouragingly. “But I’m not a big fan of orange. Ooooooh, what about this one!” She was holding another set, this one with purple polka dots.

Skylar shivered involuntarily. “I’m not into polka dots,” she said. “But I bet it would look cute on you.”

As she made her way through the racks Skylar wondered whether Pierce would be at Gabby’s pajama party. She imagined walking up to him, poised, smiling. It would be obvious that she was friends with Gabby and therefore one of the in crowd. She would
giggle at the right moments and know what to say. And she’d be wearing . . . this. Her eyes fell on pink silk shorts lined in lime green. On the hanger they were paired with a lime-green silk tank top with a deep V-neck. Both pieces were edge with pink lace.

It was perfect—playful and sexy at the same time. Pierce would love it.

Gabby had already paid for a light blue nightie and blue capri leggings to match. She was standing at the doorway texting. So, with a deep breath and a promise to herself that she would look for a babysitting job this weekend, Skylar bought the pink-and-green pajamas, choosing to ignore the fact that they cost most of her weekly allowance from Aunt Nora.

Armed with their shopping bags, they made their way toward Macy’s.

“I just want to take a quick spin through their dress department,” Gabby said. “Not that I can even
plan
what to wear without knowing what the theme is going to be.”

Skylar panicked slightly. The Spring Fling had to have a theme? Wasn’t the theme, like, spring?

“Gabs!”

Gabby spun around. “Oh! It’s Fiona and Lauren—have you met them?” Gabby tugged on Skylar’s arm as she skipped over to her friends, who were standing by the indoor fountain. “They’re the best. Other than Em. She’s
actually
the best. But they’re the other best.”

Both girls were pretty brunettes. One wore black-framed, trendy glasses and the other had a bob with bangs. And then Skylar almost gasped out loud. Because standing right behind Glasses Girl were a few football players—including Pierce.

“Hi, sweetie.” Gabby hugged one of the girls and pointed to Skylar. “Everyone, this is Skylar. Skylar, this is everyone. Fiona,” she said, pointing to the girl in the glasses, “Lauren, Pierce, Sean, Adam, Andy.” Skylar couldn’t tell who was who, and none of the boys stepped forward to introduce himself. So she just kind of smiled and waved, hanging back, waiting for a cue about what to do next.

Gabby was pulling her blue pj set out of its bag and showing it to Fiona and Lauren while the guys whooped and hollered, trying to grab it out of her hands.

“You guys are pigs,” Gabby said, laughing and shielding her purchase from them with her tiny body.

“That’s hot, Gabs,” one of them—Andy or Adam?—said. Skylar was relieved that Pierce hadn’t said it. She watched Gabby blush just the right amount—enough to turn her cheeks pink. Not beet red, like Skylar used to get onstage.

Any confidence Skylar had felt during her one-on-one time with Gabby had dissipated, and now she didn’t know what to say. Everyone ignored her; she obviously wasn’t part of the group. Her breathing got shallower.

And then, just as in the ice cream shop, Lucy was there, next
to her by the fountain. Only this time it wasn’t a vision. It was a memory, vivid in Skylar’s mind, like she was reliving it. Their mother was off looking for accessories for Lucy’s summer pageant gown. Lucy, about to start her junior year, flirting with a bunch of gorgeous senior guys from their school. Skylar, a pre-frosh, hoping one of them would notice her.

Lucy taking one glance over her shoulder, rolling her eyes, and saying,
Her? That’s my sister. She’s
special,
if you know what I mean.
Lucy laughing and Skylar’s face getting hot.
She’s supposed to start high school this fall . . . but my mom and I don’t know if she’s ready to go to school with
normal
kids.

Skylar backing away, turning to go, to get away from this. Tripping on a shopping bag handle. Face-planting. And then Lucy helping her up, whispering in her ear,
I was just teasing, Sky. You have to learn how to take a joke. Those guys are jerks, and I didn’t want them flirting with my baby sis.
Brushing her off. Skylar standing motionless, burning with embarrassment, the sound of the boys’ laughter echoing in her ears.

“Want a sip?” All of a sudden Pierce was next to her, offering her a sip of his milk shake. “It’s vanilla. Might put a smile on your face, Skylar.”

Skylar’s heart leaped and the corners of her mouth turned up into a smile—but not because he had shared the milk shake, or even because it was her favorite flavor. Pierce knew her name!

•  •  •

“Yeah, pageants are big in the South,” Skylar told Gabby on the ride home. Gabby had asked about her old life in Alabama. “We grow up with them.” She rubbed her temples. She didn’t want to talk about her past, but Gabby had pressed her for details.

“That is so crazy,” Gabby said, eyes wide. “I mean, I’ve only seen them on reality TV. Did you ever, like, win anything?”

“I won three crowns,” Skylar heard herself say. And at that moment she knew she would keep lying. She would lie about the pageants and she would lie about her sister and she would lie about her whole damn life if it made her sound more like someone Gabby would be friends with.

“Really?” Gabby whipped her face toward Skylar, her curls bouncing as she did. “You’ll have to teach me the walk. I’ve always wanted to walk like I’m on a runway.”

Skylar knew Gabby was just being nice. She was clearly comfortable walking everywhere in three-inch heels—obviously the girl knew how to carry herself. But the idea of being able to teach Gabby anything—even a useless skill like pageant marching—was intoxicating. Skylar kept talking.

“My mom taught me the basics,” she said, “before she got sick.” In reality, her mom taught Lucy the basics before she got drunk and yelled at Skylar. But this version was so much nicer.

Gabby looked concerned. “So that’s why you moved to Ascension? Your mom got sick?”

“Yeah . . . ,” Skylar said, biting her lip. “She’s off at some
spa-rehabilitation place in Europe. It’s recommended by all the best doctors.” It’s not like Gabby would ever check up on her story. She could say whatever she wanted. That her mom loved her. That she won pageants—even though the most memorable competition she ever attended was one in which she split her supertight pants during a performance of “Let Me Entertain You,” revealing polka-dot underwear and earning her the nickname Dot-Crotch.

“Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

“No.” Skylar said it firmly, looking out the window and fidgeting with the tassel at the end of the skull scarf.

“Wow,” Gabby whispered. “I’m so sorry that you had to move. But you know what?” Keeping one hand on the steering wheel, Gabby used the other to pat Skylar’s shoulder. “I’m really happy you’re here.”

Skylar’s body tingled with pride . . . with the beginnings of transformation.

•  •  •

She hadn’t been home from the mall for long before her phone dinged. As she walked to pick it up her skin prickled with anxiety. Back in Alabama she’d been used to getting “check-ins” from her mom right around this time of night, curt messages to the tune of:
Won’t be home tonight.
For a moment Skylar’s stomach ached with a familiar, sharp loneliness. Then she remembered that she wouldn’t be getting any texts from her mom in jail.

The message turned out to be from Meg:
How did it go???
Wow. Meg really was an amazing friend to remember Skylar’s “date” with Gabby—and to realize how important it was to her.

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