Red (21 page)

“Are you kidding? It was
amazing
!” Felicity said. “I’ve never seen you dance like that.”

“You’ve got this in the bag, Hays,” Ivy agreed.

A volunteer rushed out onstage to reset the microphone, and then Cassie hurried by them, the lights glinting off her windswept cloud of hair. “What’s she doing for her talent?” Felicity whispered.

“I’d like to share with you a poem I wrote,” Cassie said, as if in response. “It’s called ‘Diva Power.’ ”

Ivy’s eyes widened. “Oh my God, I can’t
wait
to hear this.”

Cassie cleared her throat and began her recitation.

“Yeah, I’m a diva,

don’t try to pretend like I’m not.

You might not like my sassy attitude,

but you definitely think I’m hot.

“Yeah, I know I look good,

my makeup takes me an hour.

But that doesn’t mean I’m not tough and badass;

I am
totally
about girl power.”

Felicity turned to give Ivy an incredulous look and saw that her friend was doubled over, both hands clapped over her mouth as she giggled uncontrollably. The sight of her nearly undid Felicity as well, but she bit her tongue hard and tried to keep herself in check. Cassie continued reciting, a strange swagger creeping into her voice.

“Yeah, I’ve got mad skills, too.

You’ll see what I mean.

When you see me strut my stuff,

with jealousy you will turn green.

“Yeah, I’m the greatest one here.

I won’t go off on a tangent,

but I’m gonna crush my competition

and win this pa-pa-pageant.”

The audience was deathly silent for a minute, unsure whether Cassie was finished. Finally, she said, “Thank you,” which triggered tentative applause. Cassie strode offstage, looking pleased with herself. Much to Felicity’s relief, she headed straight to the dressing room without stopping to chat.

Ariel appeared in the doorway, decked out in a plaid skirt and argyle knee socks, and waited in the wings for the volunteer to remove the microphone. She was clutching her swords so tightly her knuckles were white. When Felicity walked over and put a reassuring hand on her shoulder, she jumped as if she’d been zapped with a Taser.

“You’re going to do great,” Felicity whispered.

“Go, Ariel,” Brenda told her. “You’re on deck, Felicity.”

The sword dance flew by in a flash, and before Felicity knew it, Brenda was saying, “Any time you’re ready, honey.” Then Haylie was squeezing her hand, and Ivy was massaging her shoulders as if she were a boxer. Felicity stood at the edge of the wings with her eyes closed, breathing deeply and centering herself.
You can do this,
she thought
. You are going to rock those judges’ worlds.

Her eyes flew open when Brenda gasped behind her. “Felicity,
what
did you do to your beautiful costume?”

It was time to go.

Before Brenda could grab her, Felicity ran out onto the stage. She smiled at the judges, then struck her first pose.

The opening chords of “Cookie-Cutter Girl” crashed through the speakers. And as Felicity danced to the song she loved, the rest of the world fell away, and all that mattered was the music pulsing through her body and the staccato rhythms of her feet on the floor. She flew over the stage, knowing every step was right, and she finally felt as if she were exactly where she was supposed to be. She didn’t even have to try to smile.

When the Sharks in Heaven song ended, the swell of applause pulled her back down to earth. There was no full-crowd standing ovation, but Felicity was pleased to see that many people were on their feet. Jonathan was one of them, a goofy grin plastered on his face. She smiled back in a way that she hoped said,
That was for you
. “Go, Lissy!” her brothers shrieked over and over, and she looked right at them as she took her bow. She glanced at the judges and tried to gauge their reactions, but their faces were unreadable as they scribbled in their notepads.

Finally, when she couldn’t avoid it any longer, she forced herself to look at her mom.

She had expected to see anger and confusion, but she wasn’t prepared for the look of pure devastation she saw. Ginger sat perfectly still as the crowd clapped and cheered around her, both hands pressed to her chest as if her heart were in danger of falling out. Her eyes were huge and uncomprehending, like a dog who had just been kicked by its loving owner.

It’s just a song,
Felicity wanted to tell her.
Don’t take it personally—I rejected Ella-Mae Finch, not you. And didn’t you see how much better I danced when I was actually proud of what I was doing? Can’t you tell how much everyone liked it?

But she couldn’t say any of that. Her three minutes were up, and it was time to get off the stage. Felicity turned and walked away, wondering how it was possible to feel defiant, proud, relieved, and heartbroken all at the same time.

Haylie embraced her the moment she was in the wings. “You were fabulous,” she whispered. “I couldn’t believe how fast your feet were going. How’d you get your mom to agree to that awesome new music? She was so set on that stupid jazz song.”

“She didn’t know. I went in the booth and swapped the CDs this morning. I just couldn’t go through with the other song. It was just so … not me.” Haylie’s eyes widened, and all the excitement drained from her face. “Hays, what’s the matter? Are you okay?”

“You didn’t get it approved?” Even at a whisper, Haylie’s voice was laden with anxiety.

“No. I know my mom’s probably going to throw a fit about it later, but it’s just a song, so I’m hoping she’ll get over it when—”

“Felicity, didn’t you read the pageant rule book? You’re not allowed to change anything about your routine after the last rehearsal unless you get it approved by the pageant committee.”

Felicity’s blood turned to ice. Her mom’s dire expression suddenly made sense. It wasn’t just a song; it was a punishable offense. The pageant rule book was Ginger’s bible, and she knew exactly how much trouble her daughter was in.

“What are they going to do to me? Will they dock points?”

“Maybe, but … Felicity, they could vote to disqualify you.”

As if from a very great distance, Felicity heard Ivy start playing “You’re a Grand Old Flag” on the kazoo.

And that was the last thing she heard before she fled.

F
elicity sat on the bathroom floor, her back against the locked door and her tearstained face buried in her hands. Her mascara was rubbing off all over the place, but it didn’t matter now. It was hard to believe she’d been in here less than two hours ago, blacking out the jewels on her jacket and feeling optimistic.

If she really was disqualified, she had just traded a lifetime of pursuing her dreams for three minutes of defiant individuality. Maybe there was a reason she had spent her whole life letting other people tell her what to do, how to look, and who to be. She clearly couldn’t be trusted to make good decisions for herself.

Haylie had been knocking on the door unrelentingly for the past five minutes. “Come on, Felicity, let us in,” she called for the thousandth time. “I know you’re upset, but you can’t cry now. You’ll have to totally redo your eye makeup.”

“Too late,” Felicity called back. Her voice sounded wet and choked, as if she had a goldfish in her throat.

“Then let me in so I can help you. We’ve got twenty minutes. But you have to stop crying now, or you’ll look all red and puffy.”

Felicity grabbed a wad of toilet paper and blew her nose. She wanted to spend the rest of the day locked in this bathroom, where she couldn’t make any more stupid mistakes. But Gabby was in the audience, watching her every move and waiting for her to slip up. If Felicity didn’t stand up on that stage and take her enemy down today, she might never get another chance. Maybe the mayor could even convince the pageant judges to go easy on her in exchange for the juicy information about the salon. Maybe it wasn’t too late to redeem herself.

She stood up and unlocked the door.

Haylie and Ivy pushed inside carrying Felicity’s makeup bag, shoes, and gown. “Wash your face,” Haylie ordered, shoving a towel and a tube of face wash into her hands.

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.

She gripped the microphone tightly.

“I think it’s incredibly important to have people with other hair colors in Scarletville,” she said, speaking the words Gabby had written. “It’s small-minded and irresponsible to have a community that’s entirely made up of one type of person. That kind of environment promotes intolerance and stereotyping.”

Gabby’s lips curled into a smile—everything was going according to her plan.

And then Felicity deviated from the script.

“People in this town are terrified no one will respect them if they don’t have red hair, that no one will even see them. And I know that firsthand, because I’ve had those same fears my whole life.”

Gabby’s smile faltered, and Felicity stared right into her adversary’s eyes as she said the words she had been holding back for seventeen years.

“I’m a strawbie,” she said. “My hair is dyed, and it has been since I was two years old. My mom knew I wouldn’t have the opportunities I deserved unless I altered the way I looked. Every single day, I’ve lived in fear that someone would find out what I really was. And when someone did discover my secret, I let her blackmail me. I lied to my best friends for her. I lied to my boyfriend, and I lost him because of it. I did everything she told me to do because I was so afraid she’d expose me and I’d lose everything I had. But I hurt people I loved to protect my secret, and it wasn’t worth it. It’s just hair.” She grabbed a handful of perfect coppery curls and held them up for everyone to see. “This is not who I am, and I’m done hiding behind it.”

Felicity turned back to Donna Marie, whose mouth was hanging open. “That’s all I have to say,” she finished. And then she turned around and got back in line.

For a moment, the auditorium was so quiet Felicity could hear her own heartbeat. And then everyone started whispering at once, including the girls on the stage. All five judges stared wide-eyed at Felicity, their notepads forgotten in their limp hands. Ginger was doubled over in her chair, hyperventilating, while another former Miss Scarlet rubbed her back. Brent was slack-jawed, thoroughly horrified by the thought of all the intimate things he’d unwittingly done with a strawbie. Even under all her makeup, Haylie’s face looked ashen, and she stared at Felicity as if she had never seen her before.

But Jonathan and Ms. Kellogg were still smiling at her, and Gabby’s eyes were wide with dismay as she watched her powerful hold on Felicity slip away. Ariel gave Felicity’s shoulder a quick, reassuring squeeze. And when Felicity turned and searched Ivy’s face for signs of disgust, she found nothing but genuine surprise.

“Way to go out with a bang,” her friend whispered. “Now, excuse me, I have to think of something really shocking to say. I can’t let you outdo me like that.”

Ivy strode toward the whispering crowd, her green Converse sneakers peeking out from under the hem of her gown, and adjusted the microphone as if nothing were out of the ordinary. She looked at Donna Marie expectantly. The emcee stared back, uncomprehending, and fanned herself with the stack of interview envelopes.

“Hi,” Ivy finally said. “Do you have a question for me, or are we done here? Because I’ve got a pint of Coffee Heath Bar Crunch and last week’s episode of
Granny Smackdown
waiting for me at home.”

Somehow, the interview portion of the pageant finally came to an end. “Now we’ll take a break while the judges tally the scores,” Donna Marie said, obvious relief on her face. “When we return, we’ll crown our new Miss Scarlet!”

Ivy attached herself to Felicity’s side like a barnacle the moment they were offstage. “If people want to mess with you, they’ll have to mess with me first,” she said in answer to Felicity’s questioning look.

Felicity was so grateful she almost cried. “Where’s Haylie?” she asked.

“She’s probably already downstairs. That girl moves like a—”

Ivy broke off when Felicity went flying into her, propelled by an accidentally-on-purpose shoulder shove from Madison. “Oh, sorry,
strawbie,
” Madison sneered. “I didn’t notice you there. You people really
are
harder to see.” She brushed past and flounced down the stairs.

Felicity stared after her. “Way to defend me, Ives.”

“Not even worth it,” Ivy said. “She’s a stupid cow.”

When they reached the dressing room, Felicity paused. Her adrenaline was wearing off, and she didn’t think she could put on a brave face for one more second. “Ives, I can’t go in there right now. I just—I need a minute, okay?” She eyed the small, empty hallway that ran along the side of the dressing room.

Ivy straightened up to her unimpressive full height. “I’ll cover you if you want to hang out over there for a while.”

“Great.” She hugged Ivy tightly. “Thanks for not freaking out.”

“About what? Your hair? Do you seriously think I care what color your
hair
is? Hey, listen, if you want to shave your head, I’ll totally do it with you. I’ve been looking for an excuse anyway. It makes you so aerodynamic.”

“Thanks, but no thanks. Tell Haylie I’m out here, okay?”

Felicity took off her heels and spent a few minutes pacing up and down the cold, empty hallway in her bare feet, thinking about what she had just done. Her whole life teetered precariously like a building after an earthquake, not quite sure whether to collapse. She no longer had any idea who her friends were, how she should expect to be treated, where she fell on the social ladder. She had never had to think about things like that before. Nobody did when they were at the top.

But even amid all that uncertainty, there was a part of her that felt gloriously free. The thing she had always feared most had happened, and she was still standing. For the first time in her entire life, she had nothing to hide.

When she heard footsteps behind her, Felicity whirled around, hoping it was Haylie. But it was only Brenda, her mouth pressed tight into a thin line of displeasure. “The judges want to see you in conference room C,” she said. “It’s just down the hall from your mom’s office. Do you think you can find it on your own?”

Felicity hadn’t expected the judges to call her in. Were they going to let her plead her case? It seemed unlikely after the stunt she had just pulled. But maybe they had appreciated her boldness and honesty. Maybe she had earned their respect.

Or maybe they knew she had swapped the interview questions, in which case she was in even bigger trouble than she’d thought. Was it possible to go to jail for tampering with pageant materials?

Brenda was still staring at her, and Felicity nodded. “I can find it.”

When she tapped lightly on the conference room door, a stern female voice called, “Come in.” All five judges were seated on one side of the conference table, as if Felicity were there for a job interview. None of them smiled. Ginger sat at the head of the table with a defeated expression on her face and several used tissues balled in her fist. Felicity took a step toward her, but her mom shot her such a hostile look that she retreated, chastened. Nobody offered her a seat. She stood with her hands clasped penitently in front of her and waited for her sentence.