Winter White (34 page)

Izzie didn’t say anything, but she leaned her head on Brayden’s shoulder as if it were too heavy to hold up. Mira thought she looked completely lost.

Mira sat down on the porch in front of her. “Are you… all right?” she asked, knowing the question was lame. Of course she wasn’t all right.

Izzie’s chignon had fallen out, and her makeup was streaky. She shook her head. “Are you?”

“No.” Mira stared at the beat-up porch floor. “I can’t believe my dad is your…”

“Dad,” Izzie finished. “I know.” She wiped her nose with the back of her hand before Mira could offer her a tissue.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the community center,” Mira said, her lip quivering. “I keep screwing up with you even though I don’t mean to.”

Izzie felt mixed up inside. She knew she should be mad at Mira, but yelling at her about the community center seemed ridiculous in light of everything else going on. She would find a way to save the center later, even if she had to fight Savannah’s family herself. “I’m not mad at you,” she said. “I’m mad at myself for believing all the lies
he
told me. All
he
cared about was keeping me quiet so it didn’t ruin his chances in Washington.” She knew she sounded bitter. She couldn’t bring herself to say his name.

“What Dad did was crappy,” Hayden agreed, “and I’m not defending him, but he told us everything, and he definitely knows how badly he screwed up. Apparently Lucas pushed him to keep the truth quiet till after the campaign.”

Just hearing Lucas’s name made Izzie have heart palpitations.

“When he found out Lucas was blackmailing you, he fired him on the spot,” Hayden added.

Good riddance.
“That doesn’t change what your dad did,” Izzie reminded them. “He was embarrassed of me.”

She thought back to the few times she felt they had really connected. The night he tried to talk to her after she came home from the boardwalk, the corsage he gave her at her first event, how proud he was when she made the swim team. Maybe he
did
care, but it was too little, too late. Her eyes welled up with tears again. “He never wanted to be my dad. If he did, he would have shown up long before he had to by law.”

“He only found out about you last winter,” Mira said quietly. She hated that her dad had put her in the position of defending him. But she wasn’t. She was trying to help Izzie cope. “Before your grandmother got sick, she found your mom’s journal, and it said my dad was your father. Dad spent all summer waiting to hear about your paternity. When they knew for sure, he got Grams in the home and had you brought to us. He wanted you to have a better life.”

So that’s why the story of how we’re related never added up
, Izzie thought. Grams knew who Izzie’s dad was. She knew, and she tried to bring him to her. Izzie wanted to be mad at Grams for keeping it from her, but that was pointless. Her grandmother was like a ghost now.

Izzie chose her next words carefully. “That does change things, but it still doesn’t make what he did okay.” She stared at the dining room window. The glow of the streetlight that had finally been fixed illuminated the darkened room. Seeing the house empty made Izzie feel very alone. She should have been embarrassed laying this all out in front of Brayden, but she had no fight left in her. “Your family took me in because they had to. He doesn’t want me.”

“
We
want you,” Hayden insisted. “Mom adores you, Connor thinks you’re the coolest thing to happen since LEGOs, and Dad, well, he’s lousy at showing emotion. Call it a politician’s curse.”

“That’s just it,” Izzie said. “I don’t know how to be a politician’s daughter or work a social season. I don’t understand your world at all. I tried, but I failed miserably. You saw it. I don’t belong.”

“You navigate it better than you think,” Brayden said. “Look at what you put together tonight. You were a rock star! If I can survive in EC, so can you. You can do this. You have to,” he stressed.

Izzie shook her head. “I can’t go back there.” She had swallowed so many tears her mouth tasted like salt. “You think my streets are rough? Emerald Cove is a trillion times harder. It’s like a daytime soap opera! I’ll get eaten alive if I stay.” Her voice cracked.

For the first time, Mira became aware of her surroundings. Izzie’s old home was in need of major repairs. The porch steps creaked, the railing was broken, and the fence had graffiti. Every house on the block was the same way. On the street corner, three guys lingered while they smoked cigarettes. They could have just been talking, but it creeped Mira out. “So where are you going to go?” Mira asked, folding her legs under her.

“I don’t know.” Izzie closed her eyes and let the motion of the swing take her away. The truth was, she didn’t know how to survive on her own, either. She didn’t want to tell them that, though.

“Who are you going to live with?” Hayden asked.

“I don’t know,” Izzie said, sounding stressed.

“What are you going to do about school? Money?” Brayden pointed out.

“I don’t know!” Izzie was agitated. She needed sleep. Maybe when she woke up, she’d be back in her bed, Grams would be downstairs cooking, and her mom would be on her way home from work. That was the only way she could imagine her life being okay again.

“Do you know what I think?” Mira said, not waiting for a reply. “I think you have no guts.”

“Mira,” Hayden warned, but she ignored him.

“I’m mad at him, too,” Mira said. “You’re our sister and he didn’t tell us.” She looked down at the bracelet her dad had given her for her birthday last year. “If he had, maybe things would have gone differently between us.”

“You mean you wouldn’t have been so fake,” Izzie said drily. It was the first time she had ever really stared at Mira’s face. They had the same eyes. It wasn’t just that they both had hazel ones; they had the same shape, too. Their eyes were just like their… dad’s.

“Maybe,” Mira admitted, “and maybe not. But I’m trying to be a different person. I’m not a doormat anymore. I’m doing the things I love and I want to to be friends with you. We’re sisters.”

Izzie closed her eyes, trying to forget that fact. It would be easier to disappear if she did.

“You’ve already lost one family,” Mira said softly. “Don’t give up on a second. I know this is scary, and it’s not going to be easy for either of us, but we’re not going away. You can run away from all the drama of Emerald Cove, but it’s still going to be there.
We’re
still going to be there waiting for you. No guts, no glory, remember?”

“You told her that story?” Brayden asked Izzie.

“What story?” Mira asked.

“It doesn’t matter,” Izzie said. “Your speech isn’t working.”

“Fine. Then do it for yourself! Prove EC wrong,” Mira begged. “Prove Savannah wrong. Lucas, Emerald Prep—prove them all wrong. Show the world you can hack it as a Monroe.”

“I’m a Scott,” Izzie said. Her hazel eyes were brazen.

“You’re both,” Mira reminded her. Her eyes were just as determined. “Or at least you can be, if you have the
guts
to try.”

Izzie gave her a look. “Enough with the
guts
talk. I get it, okay? I just… I don’t know what to do.” Izzie clutched the necklace her aunt had lent her for the event.

“We’ll help you,” Hayden said.

“We’re not going to let you do this alone,” Brayden agreed, and put his arm around her. His body was warm. “We just want you to give this a shot.”

Izzie looked at their three open faces waiting so patiently for her to answer.
They care about me
, she thought,
and I care about them, too
. She looked around the bare porch. What did she really have to lose by giving EC another shot? “Okay,” she said reluctantly. “I’ll try.”

Mira took Izzie’s hand. “Text Dad,” she told Hayden. “Tell him Izzie’s coming home.”

Izzie looked down at their intertwined fingers. “Can we do something first?” she asked tentatively. “I want you to see Harborside. Maybe it will help you get to know me better.”

Mira looked at Hayden. “To the boardwalk?” she said. Izzie nodded. “Okay,” Mira said apprehensively, not wanting to let on about how nervous going there made her, “but we can’t stay long. Mom and Dad won’t stop calling till you’re actually home.”

It only took five minutes to get to the boardwalk. Brayden knew exactly where to park, as if he’d been there a hundred times before. Within minutes, Izzie was leading them up the ramp to the boardwalk, where a light wind hit Mira in the face and she could smell the salty air. She held Hayden’s sports coat firmly around her shoulders, almost like a shield, wondering what she was in for. When she turned the corner and looked at the long stretch of well-lit arcades, pizza places, T-shirt and henna-tattoo shops, and candy joints, she inhaled sharply.

The place was packed. Even though it was close to eleven, the boardwalk was full of people, young and old, kids asleep in strollers, groups of teens huddled together laughing. No one looked like they were ready to start a fight or run off with her bag. She didn’t see large packs of menacing guys brandishing knives. It was just a boardwalk, and it looked pretty cool.

Izzie was smiling again. She led the way, talking animatedly as if she was giving a tour. “The community center is down there,” she said, pointing to an old two-story building. “It’s closed tonight because of our event, but usually they have dances on Saturday nights, and you have to beat the senior citizens to the door to get a ticket. That’s Board-walk Pizza—they supplied the garlic knots tonight. And that’s the arcade which is a five-and-dime store where we always bought hermit crabs that lasted about a week, and that’s Scoops,” she said, pointing out a brightly painted ice-cream shop that had a line out the door. “My friend Kylie has worked there forever.” She glanced at Brayden. “I practically lived there.”

Hayden whistled. “Look at that Ferris wheel!” He pointed to the amusement park on the pier. “Is that a log flume? And a wooden roller coaster?” He nudged Izzie. “I can’t believe you’ve been keeping this place to yourself.”

“I can see why you love it so much,” Mira told her, watching a few kids skateboard by with cotton candy in their hands. She felt so foolish now. This is what she and everyone at EP had been making fun of Izzie for? This is what Harborside Boardwalk was really like? Izzie was right. “Maybe we can all come back one night,” Mira suggested, still unsure about bringing her parents up by name. “Connor would love this.”

“Maybe,” Izzie said, mulling over the idea. It would be fun to take Connor to Scoops.

Hayden checked his phone. “Mom and Dad are texting me like crazy.” He looked at Izzie. “I think they’re eager to see you safely back on their doorstep.”

“Are you ready?” Brayden asked, and Izzie felt him slip his warm hand in hers and squeeze. She felt tingles all over, but she tried not to let on. She didn’t want to think about what the gesture meant. She had still never given Brayden an answer. There were too many other things to think about.

Izzie took a deep breath. “I’m ready.”

It wasn’t going to be easy going back there, but she had to give it a shot. She took a final look around the boardwalk, taking in the lights and the sounds, and remembering some of her best memories there. Brayden was in nearly all of them. She could do this. She could be part of both worlds and make it work. She had to.

“Okay,” Izzie said finally, gazing at Mira’s smiling face the longest. “Let’s go home.”

Acknowledgments

Belles
is truly a story about what it means to be a family, and I don’t know where I’d be without my own.

Cindy Eagan and Kate Sullivan are not only amazing editors, but they’re also excellent sounding boards, and this series could not have jumped from a jumbled mix of ideas scribbled on a pad to a published book without their excellent guidance and suggestions. Kate may have her own fancy office down the hall now, but she was never too busy to come back to
Belles
to offer the insight that only she can give. I’m forever grateful to her for that, as I am to my wonderful new editor, Pam Gruber, who is the genius who came up with the title to this very series and the girls’ names. Everyone at Poppy and Little, Brown Books for Young Readers has taken
Belles
under its wings, and I owe so much to my übertalented longtime designer, Tracy Shaw, as well as Ames O’Neill, Andrew Smith, Lisa Ickowicz, Christine Ma, Jodie Lowe, and so many others.

I’m indebted to my agent, Laura Dail, who is always at the ready to talk me off the ledge and offer guidance, and to Tamar Rydzinski, who is on top of everything I do.

Christie Greff (aka the all-grown-up flower girl from my wedding) is the one who explained the differences between a heat and a medley and how competitive swimming works. Barbara Massina taught me what a social worker’s role is and how a delicate situation like Izzie’s would be handled.

Sometimes you can feel quite alone when you’re sitting in your office, typing away, which is why I’m so grateful to be able to bounce ideas around (and, um, sometimes share a few moments of panic) with Mara Reinstein, Sara Shepard, tour buddy extraordinaire Elizabeth Eulberg, Sarah Mylnowski, Kieran Scott, and the girls in the amazing Beach Bag Book Club, including Larissa Simonovski, Jess Tymecki, Kelly Rechsteiner, and Pat Gleiberman.