Winter White

by Jen Calonita

  Aunt Maureen hugged Mira. “I do. It feels like only yesterday I was taking you to your first precotillion dance class. I’m so excited for you, sweetie.”

  “What makes this dance different from the nine trillion other black-tie events EC has? The cheesy white gloves and bridal gowns?” Izzie asked her.

  “No. I mean yes,” Mira said, getting flustered. “White gloves are cool! I’m sure Kate, Prince William’s wife, wears them for official functions.”

  “But why do you need to wear them? You’re not a princess,” Izzie reminded her.

  “Shh!” Hayden put a finger to his lips. “I’m not sure anyone told her that.”

  “Why did Mira get two letters?” Connor held up a second cream envelope that had been buried in the unopened mail. Izzie could see her name from clear across the kitchen counter and she practically spit out her iced tea.

  “No way,” Izzie said, backing away as if Connor were waving a ticking time bomb. “Send it back! I am not going to cotillion.” She looked at Aunt Maureen. “How could I get invited? I didn’t even sign up.”

  Aunt Maureen looked guilty. “I submitted your name back in August, when you first got here,” she explained before Izzie could freak out. “I didn’t think you’d get in this late, but if the Junior League picked you, with no prior training, then they must accept you as a member of this community and our family.”

  Izzie snorted. “The only thing they accept is that they’re stuck with me.”

  “That’s not true,” Aunt Maureen said. “Everyone knows you single-handedly planned the first Social Butterflies event of the season. You’re a natural Junior Leaguer waiting to happen. They obviously realize that.”

  “Me? A Junior League member? No way.” Izzie shook her head. “I’d rather eat bark than sit at a meeting with those Southern belles. I’ve heard them at parties,” Izzie told the others. “They think the town’s Founders Day is more important than the Fourth of July.”

  Aunt Maureen looked teary. “After all that we’ve been through, you getting an invitation is such an honor for this family. I’d love nothing more than to see both my girls make their debut together.”

  Both my girls. Did Aunt Maureen just say that? Izzie knew her aunt really cared about her, but she and Mira also cared about this backward, totally-past-its-prime tradition. Cotillion was so not Izzie. It sounded time-consuming—and ugh, the white gloves! Izzie glanced at her fingers, which were sticky from the cookie she had eaten. There was no way she was wearing white gloves! Still, there was her aunt to consider. She looked so hopeful. Mira’s expression was the same. She was clutching that invitation as if it were an invite to the Oscars. How was she going to let them down?

  “I think cotillion sounds ridiculous.” Izzie felt the need to repeat that one more time. “But if you really want me to do it, then I guess I will.” Mira and Aunt Maureen sandwiched her within seconds. This family was too touchy-feely. “It’d better not conflict with swim meets or visiting Grams or Social Butterflies,” she said, trying to find a way to breathe and talk while being hugged so tightly. “I just signed up for that club, and I don’t want Mrs. Fitz to think I’m a slacker already.”

  “It won’t.” Mira bounced up and down in her heels. “The Junior League makes sure classes don’t conflict with our regular schedules.” She shrieked again. “Isn’t this great? I don’t have to do cotillion alone! I mean, we can do it together,” she corrected herself. Another squeal escaped her lips. “I can’t wait to go dress shopping!”

  Izzie wondered what she had just gotten herself into.

  “Do we get to go to this ball, too?” Callista asked.

  “Of course,” Aunt Maureen said happily. “We’ll be buying a whole table for the event. It’s Bill’s job to present the girls to their escorts.” Her face took on an almost dreamy quality, like it did whenever she watched George Clooney movies. “I’ve always imagined that moment he brought Mira down the stairs, which are lit with candles and—”

  Callista cut her off. “Bill is part of this, too? This is super!” She was practically foaming at the mouth. “I’ve been looking for something exactly like this to give to news programs and the papers—a true father-daughter moment showing Bill at his finest. We need something feel-good like this right now.”

  “I have waited forever to escort Mira down those stairs,” Bill told her, happy to see the smiles on everybody’s faces for a change. Mira and Izzie watched as he slid the pie plate over to his dish and took the last slice right under Mira’s nose. “To do this with both my girls would be incredible.”

  “Perfect!” Callista scribbled notes furiously.

  “No.” Mira’s voice was barely audible, but Izzie heard her.

  “What did you say, sweetie?” Aunt Maureen asked as she placed the now empty pie dish in the sink.

  Mira stared at her dad’s plate, waiting to see him take a bite. “I said no.” Her voice was stronger. “I don’t want Dad presenting me.”

  “Mirabelle,” Aunt Maureen said in a hushed voice.

  “I’m serious.” Mira stared angrily at her dad’s plate. “I won’t pretend we’re something we’re not!” Her voice turned into a full yell. “You were a coward, Dad, and I won’t let you pretend everything is okay just to save your stupid party ticket!”

  Izzie was shocked. She wasn’t used to hearing Mira flip out like a reality TV star.

  “I understand you’re upset, but let’s not make any rash decisions. Cotillion is still over a month away,” Bill said. Izzie could hear the hurt in his voice.

  But Mira wouldn’t back down. “I’ve made my decision. I won’t go with you, and I know Izzie won’t, either.” She glanced at Izzie meaningfully. Even though Izzie felt uncomfortable, she gave Mira “the look.” Relief flooded Mira’s face. “You can’t make us change our minds.”

  “Maybe we should take our snack to the living room,” Aunt Maureen said hastily, herding a bewildered Connor away. “I think we’ve had quite an exciting day. Maybe the girls need some space.” She gave Mira a stern look, but Mira ignored it.

  “Nice, Mira,” Hayden said when everybody left the room. “How could you—”

  “Bite me, Hayden,” Mira shot back venomously. Hayden pushed his plate back and walked out, disgust written all over his face.

  “How could he start with me?” Mira said, getting visibly upset. “Hey, would you mind letting Dad present you at cotillion?” she said, mimicking Callista’s voice. “Are they crazy? What would make them think I would even consider that?” Mira’s chest went up and down. “I don’t care how it looks for his career. I don’t care if this sinks him! He doesn’t deserve to present me, and I won’t change my mind.”

  Mira was never unhinged. It didn’t matter what someone did or what name Savannah called her. Mira always held it together. Izzie didn’t know how she did. But for the first time Izzie could remember, Mira was a mess.

  “No one understands why I can’t get over this,” Mira said, her voice strangled. “But I can’t.”

  “I understand,” Izzie said quietly.

  Mira looked at her. “You’re the only one who can.” She leaned her head on Izzie’s shoulder and then turned in for a hug.

  This time, Izzie didn’t want to stop her.

  Seven

  “Mira! Wait up!” Izzie’s loud voice ricocheted off the buildings in Emerald Prep’s main quad.

  Normally, Mira would have flinched at Izzie’s tone. It was one she felt should be reserved for football games, not for flagging down your sister, but today there was no one around to hear Izzie but Mira. Half the school was at a football game. It was Friday, and all after-school sports had been canceled so that students could attend the Cardinals’ final football playoff game against St. Elizabeth’s Holy Rollers. If the Cardinals won, they’d play in the first round of the fall state championships next weekend. Mira kept walking.

  “Mira! Hell-o!” She could hear Izzie running across the grass. Within seconds, Izzie had caught up with her.
“Why are you ignoring me?”

  “I didn’t hear you,” Mira said innocently.

  Izzie folded her arms across her chest and glared at her. In her EP uniform, she did a good impression of one of Savannah’s mean girls. “Don’t give me that. You heard me calling you after the Butterflies meeting, but you ran off anyway.”

  “No, I didn’t.” The truth was, she didn’t want to hear Izzie mouth off about their meeting. Mira had completely let Savannah take over, and she didn’t want a lecture about it.

  Izzie sighed. “Whatever. I just wanted to know how you could let Savannah walk all over you like that.”

  See? There it was, right there. She could already read Izzie like a book.

  Izzie’s hazel eyes were practically on fire. “You let her take over the whole meeting! We got stuck listening to her talk about her trip to Hilton Head instead of deciding what our next club project was going to be!”

  “It was an interesting slide show, don’t you think?” Mira squeaked.

  Izzie scowled. “Slide show? She flipped through pictures on her iPhone.”

  Mira shrugged. “Same thing. Besides, Mrs. Fitz was riveted.”

  “No, she wasn’t.” Izzie pushed her bob out of her eyes. “She was waiting for you to take the ball back, since she couldn’t get a word in, either. Now we have to wait till next week. It will be a month since we’ve planned anything.”

  “That’s okay,” Mira said. “We’re lucky if we do three or four events a year.”

  “What?” Izzie’s voice reached maximum volume again.

  “We only plan a few events a year,” Mira repeated. “That’s how the club has always worked. Our parties are so good, we don’t have to plan more than that.”

  “But you meet weekly!” Izzie was flabbergasted. “And we raised so much money at the Falling into You Fest! Think about how much good we could do if we did even more stuff. I’m not talking about more lame dances, either,” she said before Mira could even suggest it. “There are so many easy ways to raise money. We could do a car wash at the school for parents. Or we could have a takeout night where we cook so the parents don’t have to. Not that the parents around here actually cook, but you get the idea.” Her eyes were bright with excitement. “We could have a babysitting night in the sports complex. Parents could drop off their younger kids for a flat fee that is cheaper than a sitter and…”

  Mira let Izzie rattle off at least five more smart ideas before stopping her. “These are good. Why didn’t you bring them up at the meeting?”

  Izzie shrugged. “I don’t know. I just ran the fall fest. I can’t exactly suggest all the other events, too.” She looked at Mira pensively. “But I was hoping if you opened the meeting up to ideas, I could have at least mentioned one.”

  Mira frowned. “I didn’t want Mrs. Fitz to ask if I had any ideas. I’ve had a lot on my mind lately. Besides, I didn’t want to sit there and listen to Savannah shoot down everything I said. It’s bad enough that I have to stare at her smug face all day in class and—”

  “You’re cochair of a charity club,” Izzie snapped. “You’re going to have to think about something other than your own problems sometimes.”

  Mira rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Can we just get out of here?” All she wanted to do was go home, put on a DVR’d episode of The Bachelorette, and eat a Twinkie.

  Izzie grabbed Mira’s arm and gave her “the look.” That’s what Mira called it. The one that said Izzie didn’t believe a word coming out of her mouth and she wanted real answers. She could be such a bully that way. Must be a Harborside thing.

  “Promise me you won’t let Savannah get to you,” Izzie said. “There are already enough people in this town who are scared of that girl. We don’t need to add one more to the list.” The two stood in the nearly deserted courtyard and stared at each other.

  “I’m not afraid of her,” Mira said, even as her hazel eyes darted back and forth.

  “She’s not out here,” Izzie said, reading her thoughts. “Everyone seems to be at the football game.” Izzie looked in the direction of the stadium and sighed. “Watching football is about as fun as rubbing sandpaper on a wall, but I promised Brayden I’d go. Want to come? Violet and Nicole are going, too.”

  Oh, how their roles had been reversed. Izzie had people to hang out with, and she had none. The stadium was on the other side of campus, but Mira could picture her former friends there having a good time without her. “I’m not in the mood to have fun.”

  Izzie seemed baffled. “I never heard you say that before. What’s with you?”

  “I’m not like you, okay?” Mira snapped. “I’m not ready to take on the world by myself!”

  “What does that mean?” Izzie looked at her quizzically.

  “Just forget it,” Mira said. She was embarrassing herself, and she hated that. Izzie said and did what she wanted and didn’t care what the fallout was. Not everyone had the guts to act that way.

  “Poor Mira.” Izzie pretended to pout, which only irritated Mira more. “So you’re not number two on the food chain at EP anymore. People still like you—probably better now than they did when you hung out with Savannah. You’re just too wrapped up in your own pity party to see it.”

  “If this is you being nice, I’d hate to be on your bad side.” Mira hiked her messenger bag higher on her shoulder and started to walk away again. Izzie could make her so mad sometimes. Usually when she was right.

  “Are we interrupting?” Violet’s hesitant voice came from out of nowhere, startling them. Izzie’s good friends Nicole and Violet had somehow snuck up on them.

  Even though every girl at EP had the same uniform, people had a way of making it their own with accessories. Violet had on those large rubber bracelets that said things like sneaky. Nicole’s nails were painted a sparkly pink, and she was wearing several oversize rings. One was a giant horseshoe. Izzie had traded her pricey ballet flats for beat-up black Converse sneakers (technically, there was nothing in the EP handbook that said she couldn’t wear them—Mira and her mom just thought they were ugly). Mira stuck with the basics, accenting her ensemble with her favorite plaid headband.

  “No,” Mira said, and smoothed her hair, pushing it behind her right ear. She smiled as if she didn’t have a care in the world. “How are you guys?”

  Violet pushed her long, straight dark brown hair away from her face and looked at her warily. “We’re good. Pretty much the same as we were five minutes ago in the Butterflies meeting.”

  “Sorry,” Mira shifted awkwardly. “Force of habit.”

  “Ready to go to the game?” Nicole asked Izzie, bouncing up and down on her toes like an overeager Labrador retriever.

  Izzie hesitated, glancing at Mira. “We’re kind of in the middle of something.”

  Violet’s phone started to ring, distracting them. “It’s my mom.” Mira watched as Violet’s face paled. “She probably found her cashmere sweater I stuffed in the back of my closet. I wore it without asking, and a pen exploded over it.” She winced as the phone kept ringing. “I better walk ahead and meet you guys at the stadium. I don’t want any of you to hear my mom practically reach through the phone and strangle me.”

  “Good luck!” Nicole said. She was tall, even taller with her blond hair piled high on her head in a bun, and she towered over Mira. “Want to come to the game with us?”

  Nicole was the second person to ask her in the last five minutes. She looked down at her black ballet flats, the same ones Savannah always wore. It was nice of them to offer, but she felt awkward all the same. These were Izzie’s friends. She couldn’t glom on to them now that she had none of her own. “Thanks, but I’m heading over to the art studio. This abstract painting assignment I have due next Tuesday is kicking my butt.”

  “Is the art studio even open today?” Izzie asked, looking around the deserted campus. “I know there is a game going on, but it’s kind of creepy, isn’t it? One minute—”

  Swoosh!

  Mira’s arms were pu
lled behind her back, and a blindfold was placed over her eyes before she could figure out what was happening. Something told her she wasn’t in danger, so she didn’t fight back. The others apparently didn’t have the same gut feeling. Nicole was screaming, and Izzie was yelling things like “Get off me, punk!” Mira could hear Izzie’s fists flying. She felt someone bang into her and fall to the ground.

  “Would one of you tell this one to stop?” a girl complained. Mira didn’t recognize her voice. “You’re not being abducted, sugar! We’re trying to take you to your first cotillion initiation!”

  Cotillion initiation! Yes! She wasn’t expecting it to start today, but maybe the ritual was just what she needed to get her mojo back.

  Nicole stopped fighting at the word initiation, but Izzie was still resisting.

  “Oeuf!” Someone must have just gotten socked in the stomach. “This one thinks she’s a street fighter. Someone help me hold her!”

  “She’s the new Monroe girl,” another girl said. “She probably is a street fighter! Wow, honey, you’ve got some strength! Save it, though. You’re going to need it.”

  “I am not a Monroe!” Mira heard Izzie grunt. “But if you hurt me or my friends, I swear, I’ll…”

  “Izzie, calm down!” Mira yelled as plastic handcuffs were placed on her wrists. “Didn’t you hear them? This is for cotillion! It’s our initiation.”

  “Initiation?” Izzie growled. “What initiation?”

  Mira bit her lip. Maybe she had forgotten to mention this part.

  On purpose.

  “What does kidnapping have to do with white gloves and dresses?” Izzie asked again, getting suspicious. Mira was glad she was blindfolded so Izzie couldn’t find her and deck her, too. “Mira?” she warned. “Unless they duct-taped your mouth shut, I know you can answer me.”

  The girls in charge laughed. “This one is going to be fun to watch.”

  “Uh, I kind of left initiation out,” Mira squeaked. “Just go with it. Please?”

  She heard Izzie sigh. “Your IOUs are stacking up.”

  Someone tugged on Mira’s arm, and she let herself be led along. She wondered where they were taking them. “Just relax. This is going to be fun.”