by Alice Moss
There was the sound of knocking in the background, followed by muffled conversation as Liz put her hand over the receiver to talk to someone. A moment later she came back on the line with a theatrical sigh.
“I’ve got to go,” she said. “My dad wants to talk.” Liz emphasized the word “talk” as if it left a terrible taste in her mouth. “Send me that picture. And wish me luck. And I’ll see you in two hours! This is going to be the best party ever!”
And with that, she hung up.
Chapter 10: A Question of Style
Liz put the phone down and turned to her dad, who was looking around her bedroom as if he was worried there had been a break-in. Admittedly, it was even more of a mess than usual. Liz had been laying out different combinations of her new clothes, and had then decided to mix in a few pieces from her old ones. The general effect was as if a bomb had gone off in her closet.
“I’ll clean it up,” Liz said, in what she hoped was a contrite voice. “I promise, Dad.”
He nodded, stepping farther into the room. Liz realized that he’d only just come off duty. He hadn’t even changed out of his uniform yet.
“Please don’t tell me I can’t go to this party,” she begged, suddenly scared that he was about to do just that. “I know we haven’t been able to spend the time together with Poppy that Mom wanted because you worked late, but we can do that tomorrow, can’t we?”
Her dad glanced at her. “Actually, I have to work tomorrow, too. I’ve got a meeting with Mercy Morrow.”
Liz squealed. “Omigod! That’s amazing! What for?”
“Well, it’s a bit of a meet-and-greet. She wants to get to know some of the locals. I guess I’m an obvious choice. But I think she’s also worried about photographers. They’ve been a bit of an issue at places she’s lived in the past, apparently.”
Liz was almost jumping up and down with excitement. “Can I come? Dad, please? Can I come?”
“Of course not! It’s official police business!”
“But you said she wanted to get to know the locals,” Liz said, pouting. “I’m a local, aren’t I?”
“Liz,” sighed her father, “be sensible.”
Liz was suddenly worried. “Oh no. You’re going to tell me I can’t go out tonight because you have to work tomorrow, aren’t you? Oh, that’s so not fair—”
Mitch Wilson held up a hand. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to stop you from going to the party.”
“Oh,” said Liz with relief. “Thanks, Dad, you’re the best.”
“But I do want to have a serious talk with you before you go, OK?”
Liz managed to stop herself from rolling her eyes, but only just. “Dad, we’ll be fine. It’s at the Mathesons’ cabin—you’ve been there a million times.”
Her dad pushed a pile of tops out of the way and sat on the edge of the bed. “Yes, I have, which is how I know that it’s one of the most isolated spots within the town limits. I’m not too happy about that, I can tell you.”
“But, Dad! I can run home from there in twenty minutes! How is that isolated?”
“It is, I believe, right in the woods I told you and Faye to stay out of, for a start. I know I told you that we now think the body up there was a vagrant who got caught in the snow, but I’m still not comfortable with the bikers hanging around.”
“But the Mathesons—”
“Won’t be there. Instead, it’ll be a big, unsupervised gathering of teenagers. Teenagers—including boys.”
Liz cringed. “Dad, please don’t—”
He interrupted her protest. “Your mom tells me you’ve been talking a lot about the new boy this week. Lucas Morrow?”
Liz turned away, shuddering in embarrassment and pretending to be absorbed in picking nonexistent stray threads from one of her new skirts. “Yeah. So?”
“So will he be there tonight?”
Liz shrugged. “Maybe.”
Mitch sighed. “Lizzie, I just want you to be careful.”
“Dad! It’s a party. All my friends will be there—it’s not like it’s just going to be me and Lucas.” Though I wish it were, Liz said to herself silently.
“I know that, Liz, but I also know what can happen at parties like this. Things get out of hand, and before you know it—”
There was another knock at her bedroom door, and without waiting for an answer, Poppy stuck her head around the door.
“There you both are!” she exclaimed. “Can I come in?” Poppy shot Liz a look that clearly said, I’m here to rescue you from another one of Dad’s lectures.
Liz grinned. “Of course you can!”
“Liz, I haven’t finished—” Mitch began, but he was cut off by a bear hug from Poppy.
“Dad, I haven’t even seen you yet! You don’t have to go out again tonight, do you?”
“No, I don’t, but—”
“Great, then we can spend time together. By the way, I think Mom wants you downstairs. Something about tasting the chili? I think she’s worried it’s too hot.”
Poppy moved to stand next to her little sister, and both girls looked at their father expectantly. He frowned, shaking his head as he looked from one to the other. He knew he’d been beaten.
“Liz, just be careful, OK?” Mitch said as he left. “Keep your cell phone handy at all times. One call and I’ll be right there.”
Liz smiled. “I know, Dad. Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”
With a last nod, he left the room, closing the door behind him softly.
“Phew,” said Poppy, breathing out with relief. “That could have been a long one.”
Liz hugged her sister. “Thanks for the intervention, Popsicle. I swear he’s gotten worse since you went off to college.”
“Poor Dad. He really doesn’t like his little girls growing up.”
“Well, never mind about that right now,” said Liz, remembering the task at hand. “I am in such a mess. I have to leave for the party of the year in”—she looked at her watch—“an hour and forty-five, and I have no idea what to wear!”
Liz watched as Poppy surveyed the vast array of clothing strewn around the room. At nineteen, Poppy was older by three years, and the girls had always had a very different style of dress. Liz loved anything sparkly—little skirts with embellishments, tops strewn with gorgeous glitter, high heels that she wore whenever she could get out of the house without their dad seeing. Poppy, on the other hand, loved to work the boho look. She often wore her long, dark hair in a braid, or loosely pulled back from her face with a cute patterned band, and she wore gypsy tops, pairing them with long, country-style skirts or vintage jeans and boots.
“I’ve got a great idea,” said Poppy. “Why don’t you let me give you a makeover?”
“A makeover?”
“Sure. I can lend you some of my things—they’ll mix really well with some of your new clothes.”
“I don’t know,” Liz said doubtfully. “I mean, you always look great, but I’m not sure it’s my style.”
“You don’t have to wear it exactly the way I do,” said her sister. “You can make it your own. I think it could look really amazing.” Poppy picked up a corset-style top. “This would layer so well with loads of stuff, and I’ve got a fantastic belt that would go with it. Come on, Liz—it’ll be fun. I can do your makeup, too.”
Liz grinned again. “OK. Let’s do it! But we’ll have to be quick. And you have to promise that I’ll look drop-dead gorgeous. This could be the biggest night of my life!”
Poppy hugged her. “I promise. That boy won’t know what hit him!”
Chapter 11: Making an Entrance
Faye was standing outside the door of the bookshop, patiently waiting for Liz to swing by and pick her up. Punctuality wasn’t one of Liz’s strong points even on a good day, and from the phone call they’d shared earlier, Faye had known that her friend would be late tonight.
Faye shivered slightly in the evening chill. Above her, the sky was a deep blue as the last of the day’s light bled away int
o evening. The stars were coming out, one by one. It was going to be another cold night. Faye stamped her feet, sending up tiny flurries of snow. The snowy weather still hadn’t let up, and the town was beginning to get used to the idea of an extremely early winter. Even Aunt Pam had been stockpiling food in case the town actually did get cut off.
There was a screech of tires, and Liz’s little car rattled around the corner, going too fast, as usual. Faye saw her friend raise one hand from the steering wheel in a wave before she pulled up, her face bright with excitement.
“Get in, get in, get in!” Liz babbled as Faye opened the door. “I’m so sorry I’m late!”
“It’s fine,” Faye said as she slid into the passenger seat, twisting to drop her camera case on the backseat. She turned to look at Liz properly for the first time as they pulled away. “Wow, Liz—you look amazing! That’s a really, really good look for you!”
“I know, right?” Liz said excitedly. “I really wasn’t sure when Poppy first suggested it, but now I really like it. Aren’t these earrings awesome? Look!” She waggled her head, sending the long drops tinkling, before she glanced again at Faye. “Love your makeup, too. Very glam-goth!”
Faye glanced in the rearview mirror and smiled. She was wearing the new top she’d bought at MK, but instead of the jeans, she’d chosen a short black tulip-style skirt, which looked great with her black high-heeled ankle boots. She’d accessorized the look with a chunky black and silver necklace and a row of silver bangles. Besides the smoky eyeshadow, she had also picked a deep red lipstick. Overall, it was a bolder look than she usually went for, but it felt great. “Thanks,” she said. “You’re sure it’s not too much?”
“Definitely not. Anyway, what have you been doing today? I’m sorry I’ve been tied up.”
“Don’t be silly. It must be lovely to have Poppy home.”
“Well, Mom’s happy.” Liz rolled her eyes. “She thinks Poppy’s a good influence on me. Keeps getting her to talk to me about things she thinks I need to hear. As if I don’t get enough of that from Dad. Ooh!” Liz added. “Speaking of Dad—guess what?”
“He’s given you a curfew of eight-thirty p.m.?” Faye was only half kidding—once, the girls had gone to a fireworks display alone, and Mitch Wilson had tried to demand that Liz be home before the sun had even set properly!
Liz shuddered. “Don’t even joke about it. He almost gave me a talk about the dangers of boys. Seriously, you should have seen me cringe! But no, this is actually quite cool—he’s going to meet Mercy Morrow tomorrow!”
“Really?” Faye pricked her ears up, genuinely interested.
“Yeah, he’s going to get to see inside their mansion and everything!”
“Maybe he can put in a good word for me,” said Faye as the car left the town lights behind and headed into the woods. “Ms. Finch wants me to write a piece about Mercy Morrow for the Miller. I’ve been researching her all day.”
“I said you should write about her! See? You should so listen to me more. Although I thought you didn’t want to?”
“I didn’t, but Ms. Finch didn’t give me much of a choice. And actually—Mercy Morrow’s kind of interesting.”
“I knew she would be!” Liz exclaimed. “What did you find out?”
“Well, for one thing, she and Lucas sure move around a lot. They’ve lived everywhere—all over the United States and Europe. They’ve even spent some time in Egypt and other parts of North Africa.”
“Ah, the lives of the rich and famous,” sighed Liz enviously.
“I don’t know, I think it probably sucks, having to live in so many different places,” said Faye. “Especially for Lucas. He must find it hard to make friends.”
Liz looked over at her again. “Does that mean you’re going to start being nice to him?”
Faye smiled. “Well, I am hoping that I can chat with him at this party, maybe pick up some useful material for this piece.”
“It might be a good opportunity,” agreed Liz. “Hey—listen to that!”
The sounds of music and happy raised voices floated out of the trees as Liz turned the car up the track toward the Mathesons’ cabin. The little road had been lit with fairy lights to lead the way, but the rest of the forest was dark. The music got louder and louder, and then, up ahead, a pool of light splashed into the darkness. The cabin was lit with floodlights and surrounded by cars. Guys from school swarmed everywhere, congregating on the wide wooden steps, leaning against the cabin walls. Liz searched for a space to park as fluorescent strobe lighting colored the windows of the cabin.
“You know what?” Liz said as she killed the engine.
“What?”
“Talking might not be that easy after all!”
Faye laughed, her spirits lifted by the sight of so many of her friends all having a good time. She grabbed her camera and the gift she’d picked up for Candi—a new charm for the bracelet she’d bought Candi for Christmas. This one was really cute—a miniature watch in a silver filigree case that opened like a tiny locket. Sliding out of the car, Faye shut the door and followed Liz toward the cabin.
“Hey, Faye! Liz!” Jimmy Paulson called from the steps, waving as the two girls approached. “There you are! You’re late!”
“That would be fashionably late, Jimmy,” Liz told him breezily as she headed up the stairs.
“Um … uh …” Jimmy’s face fell, and he began to stutter. “Of—of course, be-be-being late is far better than be-be-being on time.…”
Faye gave Jimmy a quick hug. They worked on the Miller together, and she’d gotten to know him a lot better in the past year—so she knew he had a little crush on Liz. Jimmy might have looked like a bit of a geek—Faye kept telling him his glasses were too big, and the backpack he carried everywhere was a longstanding joke at Winter Mill High—but everyone loved Jimmy. Well, everyone except Liz, who just couldn’t see him as anything other than a lovable loser, and had often told Faye as much.
“S-so,” said Jimmy, bravely trying to engage Liz in conversation again, “have you two heard about the B-Battle of the B-Bands? It’s c-coming to W-Winter Mill! It’s g-going to be a-amazing!”
“What is it?” Faye asked, watching out of the corner of her eye as Liz scanned the crowd of kids, obviously searching for Lucas Morrow.
“I-it’s great! I-it’s this big competition that tours high schools—”
Jimmy stopped as a new sound was heard over the noise of the party. It was a finely tuned engine, making its way up the track to the cabin. The noise grew louder and louder, and as everyone turned to look, a flash of red could be seen moving through the trees. A car appeared, sleek and fast-looking.
“Oh my g-goodness!” exclaimed Jimmy, pushing his glasses up his nose. “That’s a Ferrari. A four-five-eight. You can’t get them in the U.S. yet—they have to be specially ordered from Italy.”
The car swung in a tight arc and backed smoothly into an open space. Faye looked up at Liz. Her friend’s eyes were as big as saucers. There was a ripple among the gathered partygoers as the Ferrari’s door opened and Lucas Morrow stepped out. He wore slouch jeans and a crisp white shirt, open at the collar. He’d spiked his hair into an amazing style. Even Faye had to admit he looked incredibly gorgeous. Faye pulled out her camera, framing a shot of the scarlet car’s smooth lines against the haphazard roughness of the snowy trees behind it.
She felt Liz grip her arm in silent excitement as Lucas walked through the crowd, nodding at people as he went. He glanced up to where the two girls were standing—and then headed straight for them! He jogged up the steps, stopping in front of Faye.
“Hey, Flash,” he said, smiling his charming smile. “How’s the party?”
“It—er—it’s great, I think. We only just got here ourselves,” said Faye, trying to involve Liz, who was digging her fingers into Faye’s arm.
“Great,” Lucas said, blue eyes sparkling in the party lights. “Then I guess you and I can find out together!”
Chapter 12: What A
re Friends For?
Liz couldn’t believe it. This evening was supposed to have been the most fun she’d had all year, but it had turned into a massive, humiliating disaster. She should have been getting to know Lucas, chatting with him, maybe even dancing with him by now. But instead, she’d had to watch as Lucas and Faye got closer and closer. Sure, at first Faye had tried to involve her … but as the evening had gone on, Faye had obviously decided that she wanted Lucas for herself.
Liz swallowed the lump in her throat, searching in her purse for her mirror to hide the tears that suddenly threatened her makeup. Snapping open her compact, she checked her mascara, relieved to see that it hadn’t run. There’s no point in crying, she told herself harshly. You just have to do something about it. She stared at her reflection in the little mirror so hard that she got dizzy. For a second, it felt as if she were falling. Then a knife of anger stabbed through her. She snapped the compact shut, looking around for her so-called best friend.
Faye and Lucas were standing together, sipping drinks, chatting as if they’d known each other their whole lives! It wasn’t fair. Lucas had totally ignored Liz since he’d arrived. It was humiliating.
“Hey, Liz!” Candi Thorsson slipped up behind her, giving her a quick hug. “Thanks so much for coming! The necklace you bought me is gorgeous! Are you having fun?”
Liz forced a smile onto her face and hugged her friend back. “Oh yeah—this is the most amazing party I’ve ever been to!”
Candi laughed. “I think my mom and dad feel bad for not being around that much. What do you think of the band?”
“Er—they’re great.” Liz turned to look at the five-piece rock outfit that had been playing since she arrived. To tell the truth, she really hadn’t noticed them, being too preoccupied with the Lucas and Faye situation.
“Are you OK?”
At Candi’s question, Liz looked up and smiled again. “Sure. Why?”
Her friend smiled back and shrugged. “Never mind. Hey, doesn’t Lucas look great? He’s like my star guest—everyone wants to talk to him! How amazing would it be to be that popular?”