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Authors: Lisi Harrison

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BOOK: Belle of the Brawl
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“Allie,” Darwin sighed, staring down at the phosphorescent moss covering the ground, glowing patches of neon green and yellow. He shook his head slightly. “We need to talk.”

Allie cut him off, her heart soaring, wanting to skip over any awkward, tortured conversations about their breakup. That was old news. “Yeah, I know we do. I am so sorry about what I did. Pretending to be AJ, lying, everything. But I’m so happy you’ve decided to forgive me. Now we can really get to know—”

“Allie—”

“Sorry. Go ahead.” Allie smiled, hoping this awkward phase of their relationship wouldn’t last long. She was already imagining taking pictures with Shira’s cutest progeny,
and somehow breaking through the firewall so they’d end up in her ex-boyfriend Fletcher’s inbox.

Darwin’s eyes made contact with hers, but instead of mirroring her excitement, they projected uncertainty. What was going on?

“Listen,” he said. “We’re not going to start fresh. Things between us are over.”

Over?
Allie’s blue eyes filled with tears. Her heart ached beneath her metallic clothing. She looked down uncomprehendingly at the flowers. “What?”

“I’m sorry.” Darwin’s voice was firm. Allie’s overworked brain tried to process what was going on. Why the flowers? Why was he here?

“You came all the way here… for nothing?” She waved the vase around and one of the flowers tipped out, falling to the ground. A ball of pain began to form in her stomach, like that time the Jamba Juice at her mall got a shipment of bad berries. And suddenly she realized. “Ohmuhgud,
of course
,” she hissed. “I guess now that your mom’s loosened up the rules, you plan on pulling a
Bachelor
and giving a flower to every girl in school!”

“That’s not it. You don’t underst—”

“I understand plenty,” Allie cut him off. Suddenly her head was swimming, and the sweet smell of cotton candy flowers made her nauseous. Her dinner was rising in her stomach.

Before Darwin could say another word, Allie shoved the vase into his chest and let go, turning to push her way out of the crowded garden. Through a veil of tears, the colors of all the plants looked like a circus, and she was the star sideshow attraction.
Allie Abbott! Come one, come all, and watch as her heart breaks into a million pieces!

6

JACKIE O
CHARLIE’S BED

SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 26TH
11:29 P.M.

Wrapped tighter than a Thai spring roll in her pearl-white comforter, Charlie watched the minutes tick by on the illuminated digits of her aPod. She slept in the exact center of the room’s horseshoe arrangement of beds. To her right lay Triple Threat, snoring lightly, and to her left were Allie and Skye, both passed out on their stomachs, their backs rising slightly with each inhalation. On the other side of Triple, AJ lay in her bed surrounded by pens and notebooks, curled into a tiny ball on her side. Charlie clutched her aPod tightly in her hand, letting out a silent sigh when the digits turned to 11:29 p.m. Every year, for as long as Charlie could remember, she’d celebrated this moment. Because September 26 at 11:29 p.m. was when Darwin was born.

In the past, they’d celebrated it together, making a wish, just as they did on Charlie’s birthday. But now everything
involving Darwin contained seeds of trouble, about to sprout up and devour Charlie like a carnivorous plant.

Even so, just because Charlie wasn’t with Darwin now didn’t mean she couldn’t make a wish. She gazed up at the constellations visible through the glass ceiling of the Jackie O bedroom and wondered what she should wish for: that Darwin would stop loving her? That Allie would stop liking him? That Darwin would love her but not show it until Allie had moved on to someone who loved her back? Yeah, that was it!

“Please make Darwin stop loving me until…” She whispered, but before she could finish her wish, the numbers changed. Did that mean that Darwin was going to stop loving her?

The thought of Darwin giving up on her simultaneously turned Charlie’s stomach and cleared her head. She’d gotten used to being without Darwin, to concentrating on herself and her projects at the lab. After all, if Allie found out Darwin had chosen Charlie over her, she’d suffer from PTSD—Post Trina Stress Disorder. And Charlie would lose her best friend.

Bzzzz!

Another text arrived on Charlie’s muted aPod.

Darwin:
I’m waiting.

Darwin had been texting Charlie all night, saying he’d wait for her in the hybrid garden’s greenhouse for as long as it took. Charlie sat up a tiny bit in her mummy-wrap and looked around the room. Everyone seemed to be sleeping soundly now, so there was no excuse left. She had to go and meet him.

Charlie silently slipped a hoodie over her pj’s, grabbed a pair of clear gladiator sandals, and padded cautiously down the spiral staircase. When she reached the door to Jackie O, she gasped for air, her heart doing a soft-shoe shuffle of excitement and trepidation. Her resolution in the belly of the Buddha still held—she couldn’t sell out Allie right now, not even for Darwin. But there was no way she could stand in front of him and actually say it. His hazel eyes and gorgeous smile—adorably dimpled on just one cheek—still had the power to melt her into a puddle. How could a puddle tell Darwin no?

“Be strong,” she whispered to herself as she walked down the gravel path under a bright midnight moon. “Do it for Allie.” Pressing her lips together in a determined line, Charlie pushed open the iron gate of the hybrid garden and headed for the glass structure at its center.

The greenhouse flickered from the outside, and when Charlie walked through the door, she saw something written in red, pink, white, and orange peony petals. She squinted down at it in the dim glow of the candles, reminding herself to be strong and stick to her plan.

Darwin stepped out of the shadows. “Like it?”

Charlie grinned, her coffee-brown eyes locked with Darwin’s hazel ones in an eye-embrace that felt as comfortable as flannel sheets. She curled her toes and kept her feet planted, fighting her instinct to run over to him and wrap her arms around his ropy shoulders. Suddenly, a wave of paranoia washed over her, and she shook her head slightly to try to flick it away. What if Allie had heard her and was lurking in the garden somewhere, spying on them?

Charlie’s throat felt like it was stuffed with tube socks.
Now or never.
Resolved to put the brakes on Darwin’s speeding car, she rushed over to the rose petal heart and scraped her feet across it, scattering the petals in the dirt.

Darwin looked at her confused.

“I’m sorry, Darwin, but…” She paused, looking at the petal-strewn grass. “I can’t.”

“What? I don’t understand….” Darwin’s voice was husky, strangled with hurt. “You heard my mom tonight. We don’t have to hide anymore.” He walked over to Charlie and pushed a sun-bleached thatch of hair out of his face, then moved to grab her hand in his.

But Charlie twisted her hand out of his grasp. “We can’t.
I
can’t.” Charlie couldn’t bring herself to look him in the eye after getting the words out, so she stared miserably at the burgundy tips of his Pumas and swallowed hard. “I can’t risk hurting Allie.”

Darwin reached out and cupped Charlie’s chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. His eyes, normally calmer than the Caribbean Sea, were glassy with emotion. “You’re telling me you’re choosing Allie’s feelings over mine? After everything that’s happened—”

“I’ve never had a real friend before, Darwin,” she said, as if that explained everything. Because in a way, it did.

Charlie was practically shaking now, just like the flames of the candles, their reflection dancing on the glass walls of the greenhouse. She took a rose-filled breath and went on. “She was so upset tonight, Darwin. You should have seen her.”

“Charlie, the girl impersonated a celebrity and lied to the whole school for three weeks! How deep can her feelings be? She’ll get over this. Remember when Mel had a
crush on that bossa nova singer in Sao Paulo? He still can’t listen to jazz, but he discovered country and fell for Taylor Swift. Allie will discover… country, too,” he finished lamely, probably realizing his analogy made no sense.

Or did it?

Charlie was about to tell him this wasn’t the same thing at all… that Allie was different… that she couldn’t just distract her with someone else… when she realized: Maybe she
could
.

“That’s it.” A smile broke across her face like a lightning bolt.

“What?”

“Mel! Allie should hook up with Mel!” Charlie paced around one of the rosebud-covered tables, twirling a mahogany curl around her finger the way she always did when she needed to concentrate. A smile began to spread across her lips. Allie looked a whole lot like Mel’s Brazilian crush. Same dark blond waves, same tan, same dramatic blue eyes. And from everything Allie had told her about Fletcher, Mel was
exactly
her type. He was into clothes and shopping, he was objectively adorable by anyone’s standards, and he was just unattainable enough to keep Allie’s interest. If Allie fell for Mel, she wouldn’t care that Charlie and Darwin were an item again. And maybe, just maybe, Mel would prove to be Allie’s soul mate the way Darwin was Charlie’s. It was a win-win-win-win!

Charlie relayed all this to Darwin, but after he’d heard her out, he rocked back on his heels and shook his head, crossing his arms protectively over his sweatshirt. “You know who you sound like?”

“A super-smart girl who has just solved everyone’s problems?” Charlie grinned.

“No. You sound like my mom. Manipulative. Controlling. Scheming.” Darwin sighed and shook his head again.

“Your mom’s not all bad. She did manage to build this whole island, after all. Not to mention an empire. And you.” Charlie blush-grinned and saw that Darwin would let himself be convinced. She just had to push the right buttons. “Just trust me, Darwin. I want us to be together. This is the only way.”

Darwin’s kissable lips lifted in a genuine smile, and Charlie felt her heart lifting, too.

After all, Darwin was a practical guy. Charlie knew he couldn’t resist a good investment. Especially since theirs was a future worth waiting for.

7

NORTH SHORE
NARCISSUS DAY SPA

MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 27TH
4:09 P.M.

Skye settled her tired back against the massage bench of the day spa steam room, her posture relaxing as the steam soothed her aching calves. Like Tweety and Ophelia, who lay on either side of her, each on her own massage table. A heat-activated towel wrapped tightly around her torso sent targeted tea-tree gel deep into her pores. She took a deep breath as the bench’s auto-shiatsu targeted her neck, and closed her Tiffany box–blue eyes. Sighing deeply, Skye swept first one taut leg and then the other in a wide circle through the opaque air, wiggling her freshly pedi’d toes.

This should have been the perfect end to her day. She’d had a great dance class: Triple was still their instructor Mimi’s favorite dancer, but Mimi hadn’t stopped to humiliate or yell at Skye during class this time. It was a glissade in the right direction. But Skye was drowning in
other worries, and her ocean of anxiety was so turbulent that even a change of heart from Mimi couldn’t calm the waters.

“So now that we’re finally alone,” trilled Tweety, a petite olive-skinned brunette with a birdlike voice. “We’re waiting for the dirt on you and Syd.”

Skye sighed, unfastening her platinum wavelets from their coil on the top of her head and letting her hair fall around her shoulders. Now that her hair was free, maybe she’d finally be able to confess her real feelings. “The truth?”

“Don’t leave anything out!” Ophelia grunted from the other bench. Skye could see her flame-red bun wiggling through the white of the steam as she executed an endless series of Pilates crunches.

Skye closed her eyes again and tried to organize her crazy thoughts into something coherent. If she told the bun-heads, would it get back to Shira? Could Skye afford to take the risk?

“Syd must be super-intense, like Altoids after a week of Doublemint,” purred Tweety, flipping over on her massage table to do a quick cow-cat yoga sequence.

“He’s intense, all right,” Skye spat bitterly, then continued in a flat voice. “Intensely annoying!”

Both bun-heads sat up in the thick steam, sensing they’d hit more dirt than they’d known to dig for.

Skye wrapped her slender, toned arms around her
own shoulders and gave herself a pity-hug. “I’m totally into Taz. But Shira caught me on camera breaking things off with Syd. The camera showed us together, and Syd was acting happy, so Shira put two and two together and came up with five! She thinks Syd and I are a perfect couple, and she said that if I ever hurt her son, she’d send me home.”

Once a chunk of Skye’s internal dam was chipped away, the whole river of truth came rushing out. Skye took a deep breath of hot steam after spilling her guts, and noticed that she already felt better. She still had Syd hanging over her like a cement cardigan, but now at least she wasn’t hiding it from everyone. Tweety and Ophelia weren’t the sharpest knives in the drawer, but maybe they’d be able to help Skye devise a solution, or at least provide an umbrella during the storm.

BOOK: Belle of the Brawl
8.92Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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