and Stella swooping in to comfort me with ice cream and DVDs —
There’s a flash of pale dresses in front of me, two girls rushing into the road. My heart stops. I slam on the brakes.
Silence.
Wrenching open the door, I struggle out of my seat belt and rush around the front of the car. A faint alarm is wailing somewhere, but we’re all alone in the far end of the lot, next to a cluster of huge trash cans and empty boxes.
“Oh God, did I hit you?” I gasp for breath, looking in horror at the girl collapsed in a tangle of tanned limbs and white silk on the asphalt. “Oh God! I wasn’t going fast, but you just came out of nowhere and —”
“It’s OK!” The other girl pulls her friend up. “You didn’t hit us, she tripped. That’s what you get for wearing those freaking ridiculous heels,” she adds with a note of disdain.
“You were the one yanking my arm!”
“Yeah, well, when I say run, I don’t mean that beauty-pageant strut of yours!”
As I look back and forth between them, my panic gradually subsides. Then I realize who they are.
The girl in pink looks over, as if seeing me properly for the first time. “You go to East Midlands, right?” She frowns. “I’m Jolene.”
I take a tiny step back. I know who she is. Everybody knows. Half the graffiti in the girls’ bathroom is devoted to Jolene Nelson and her multitude of sins. And most of it has probably been scrawled there by Bliss Merino’s closest friends. “Meg,” I tell her, nervous. If even a couple of the stories I’ve heard about her are true . . .
“So you’re here for prom?” Bliss is on her feet again now, smiling at me without a hint of recognition. “Cute dress.”
I glance down at the folds of black I thought would make all the difference. “Thanks,” I mutter, embarrassed. When I tried the dress on, it made me feel . . . special. Graceful. Like a waltzing starlet in all those classic movies. Now I know it’s just a length of satin. “I, umm, like yours, too.”
As if in response, Bliss begins to fluff out the floaty layers of her skirt and hitch the bodice back up, preening. It’s an outfit made for the spotlight, dazzling even in the dusk light.
“What’s that noise?” I ask, turning in the direction of the alarm. “Is there a fire or something?”
“No idea,” Jolene replies quickly. She nods behind me at the Honda. “Is that yours?”
I nod again. “For tonight, anyway.”
“Could we sit inside a minute? It’s getting kind of cold out,” she adds. As if to illustrate, she wraps her arms around herself and shivers.
Even though it’s at least sixty degrees out, I agree. You don’t refuse Jolene Nelson — not if you want to stay out of the emergency room, anyway. They bundle into the car and I follow slowly, still wondering what Bliss is doing with her. And how anybody managed to force Jolene into that dizzying waterfall of ruffles.
When we’re all in the car, Bliss leans forward from the backseat. “So what now?”
“Now we chill,” Jolene tells her, almost like an order. She flips down the mirror and begins to mess with her short, spiky hair. Bliss reaches between us and starts playing with the radio settings, searching for a new station. Jolene slaps her hand away.
“Manners!”
“Oh! Sorry!” She blinks at me, wide-eyed. “You mind if I . . . ?”
I shake my head quickly. “No, go ahead.”
She finally settles on a pop station and sits back, humming along with the song. I wait, trying to decipher what’s going on. Bliss seems breathless and excited, and even Jolene keeps glancing back toward the building. She notices me watching her.
“What are you doing out here, anyway?” Her eyes narrow, assessing me. “The party started ages ago.”
“I, ummm, my date couldn’t make it.” My voice comes out almost a whisper. It hurts to admit, especially to these two. They’ve probably never been left waiting more than a minute in their entire lives. Some people, you don’t even dare.
“You got stood up?” Bliss exclaims, her head popping up next to me again. “That’s awful.”
I try to shrug, like I don’t care. “It’s cool. I mean, it’s only prom.”
The words sit, hollow between us. I want to slap myself. Who am I fooling? Only prom?
“So, what — are you going home?” Jolene is still watching me carefully, her blue eyes cool and unblinking. It’s