The Mall - Megan McCafferty Page 0,66

it did little to ease the tension.

“Um, I’m Cassie?” I said, as if I were in doubt of that fact. “I’ve worked here all summer?”

Mona couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

“Cassie?” She blinked her spidery lashes. “Cassie?”

I couldn’t blame Mona for not recognizing me.

“I can’t believe this is Cassie!”

I have to 20/20 vision but, I could hardly recognize my own reflection in the mirror. Based on the blurry blobs of color I could make out, it was probably better that way.

“It’s me,” I said, “in the flesh.”

“You better watch out, Drea! You’ve got some competition!”

Drea and I gawked at Mona with incredulity. No one had ever said I was in the same league as Drea looks-wise. Makeover or not, her position as “the hot one” was undisputed. It would’ve been equally absurd to suggest Drea was “the smart one.” Mona obviously consumed too much vodka and not enough lettuce for breakfast that morning.

“We already pulled perfect looks that have your name all over them,” Drea said. “You’ll find them waiting for you in dressing room number one.”

I, of course, had no part in this.

“Perfect,” I repeated.

I threw a panicked look at Drea, but she just shrugged and used my own words against me.

“How hard can it be?”

I had a few minutes to center myself as Mona tried on her first outfit.

“Taaa-daaa!”

Mona struck a pose in a yellow drop-waist off-the-shoulder sweater and graffiti-print stirrup pants. It was an obnoxious outfit in every way.

“Whaddya think?”

It suited her perfectly. But then I remembered, Every third look.

“Hmm. It doesn’t do much for you,” I said as tactfully as possible. “Let me see you in something else.”

Mona smiled and went back behind the pink curtain. Gia claimed the color threw off a creamy glow that complemented all shoppers’ skin tones, though Mona’s charred complexion was more challenging than most. Fortunately, Gia also insisted on installing top-notch lighting all around the store, especially in the dressing area. The investment had paid off. Customers were always saying they felt more beautiful at Bellarosa than anywhere else in the whole mall, which in this tiny corner of New Jersey meant the whole friggin’ world. That’s what I was thinking about when Mona asked the fateful question.

“Working here full-time now, sweetheart?”

“No! NO! NO! I leave for college next week!”

The horrified escalation of each “no” was as true-to-heart-and-soul as anything that had ever come out of my mouth. It was one thing to look like a lifer at the mall, but to actually be one was an entirely different matter. I was insulted by the assumption.

And by the ferocious look on Drea’s face, I wasn’t the only one who was insulted.

With a sudden, stomach-turning clarity, I realized how I must have sounded to Drea. Her ample chest visibly heaved beneath her leopard-print bustier. Appropriately enough, her eyes flashed white like a jungle cat before it lunged for the kill. I’d seen Drea lash out with animal rage countless times before. But never, ever at me. It was terrifying.

“I can’t take it anymore!” Drea roared. “You’re fired!”

“Fired? You can’t fire me! I’ve only got…”

“Six days left! We know! Everyone knows you can’t wait to get the hell out of here. I’m just making it easy for you!”

“Drea, calm down,” I said. “You’re being overdramatic.”

“And you’re being an asshole,” Drea shot back.

This rejoinder thrilled her audience. Mona and Madame Plastic applauded, and I swear Drea took a bow because she thrived on this kind of attention. She wanted me to skitter away timidly, to wait until she decided she wasn’t mad anymore. But what would happen if I didn’t play along like she wanted me to? What if I decided to call the shots in this drama? I was dressed and made-up to look like Drea. Maybe I’d take a cue from my makeover and act like her too. Let her be on the receiving end of over-the-top histrionics for a change.

“Fine! Fire me!” I shouted back. “Good luck balancing the books without me!”

I didn’t really mean it. But I must have been convincing enough because Drea’s expression went unnervingly calm. Cool. And when she spoke, it was in a low rasp that was all the more chilling for its utter lack of heat.

“We were just fine for seven years, we’ll be fine now,” she said icily. “And we’ll be fine after you leave.”

Then she turned her back on me to receive hugs from Mona and Madame Plastic. This wasn’t really happening, was it?

“Drea…”

“Just go!”

Now it was my turn for guilt-free bad