Red

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Red Page 19

by Alison Cherry


  “Want us to wait for you?” Ivy offered.

  “No, it’s fine, just go.”

  “Okay. I hope you find them.” Haylie hugged her tightly. “Oh my God, I can’t wait for tomorrow. I’m so, so glad we’re all doing this together.”

  “Me too,” Felicity said before Ivy could cut in with a snarky remark.

  “Think positive thoughts before you go to sleep, and don’t forget to eat breakfast!” Haylie called as she pushed the front door open.

  Felicity went around to the side door of the auditorium, opened it a crack, and peeked inside. She couldn’t see her mom from this angle, but she could hear her having a wrap-up meeting with Brenda and Celeste, both of whom had been on the pageant committee for a decade. Felicity wondered whether she had time to slip into her mom’s office and swap the interview questions now, before the meeting ended. But that seemed too risky—she should probably hold off until her mom left to pick up the twins in a few minutes. She propped the door open a bit, sat down, and settled in to wait.

  After fifteen minutes, the meeting still wasn’t over, and she heard her mom say, “Shoot, I’m going to be so late to pick up the boys. Let me call Felicity and ask her to go get them, and then we can talk about the florist.”

  Felicity’s phone started vibrating in her bag, and she jerked back from the door in a panic. Thank God she’d remembered to turn off her ringer before rehearsal. She dashed up the hallway and around the corner and managed to catch the call on the last ring. “Hello?”

  “Hi, baby. Where are you? Why are you out of breath?”

  “I’m in the parking lot,” Felicity lied. “I’m not out of breath, I was just … laughing. What’s going on?”

  “I have to be here later than I thought, so I need you to pick up the boys at day care, okay? If you could get them into their pjs, that’d be really helpful. I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

  “Sure, okay,” Felicity said. “No problem.”

  “You’re a lifesaver. See you later.”

  Felicity hung up the phone, her head spinning. Waiting to swap the envelopes was no longer an option. It was now or never.

  She jogged toward her mom’s office on the other side of the building. Nearly all the other offices she passed were dark and unoccupied—most of the staff left early on Fridays. Please be unlocked, please be unlocked, Felicity begged silently as her mom’s door came into view. Through the window of the office, she spotted the box of gold envelopes on the desk—she could easily make the exchange and be out in thirty seconds. After one final glance up and down the hall to make sure she was alone, she turned the doorknob.

  It was locked.

  She cursed under her breath. Maybe someone at the security desk could open the door for her. She was hesitant to involve another person in her criminal activities, but she didn’t have much of a choice. Every second she waited was one second closer to being caught.

  When she reached the desk near the front door, Felicity saw that her favorite security guard was on duty, and her heart lifted. Arthur had always had a soft spot for her. Today he was napping in front of his bank of monitors, his long Santa Claus beard spread out on his chest, and he startled awake when Felicity touched his shoulder. “Felicity!” he boomed. “How you doing, honey? It’s so good to see you!”

  “You too,” Felicity said. “Listen, could you do me a huge favor? I think I left my car keys in my mom’s office, and she’s in a meeting. Would you mind opening the door for me?”

  “Anything for my girl.” Arthur hoisted himself out of his chair with a grunt and started down the hall at approximately the speed of a Galápagos land tortoise.

  It took nearly five minutes to reach her mom’s office. Felicity plodded alongside her old friend, answering his questions about the pageant and trying not to betray her panic. Even when they reached her mom’s door, the ordeal was far from over—Arthur had a key ring the size of a grapefruit, and he had no idea which key was the right one. After sixteen tries, the lock finally clicked open, and Felicity nearly did a cartwheel.

  “Thank you so much,” she said.

  Arthur flipped on the office lights. “Now, let’s see what we can find.”

  Felicity’s relief flickered out like a birthday candle in a strong wind. The gold envelopes on the desk beckoned to her. All she needed was ten seconds alone with them. But Arthur was feeling around on the tops of the filing cabinets and didn’t seem likely to leave. If she got him to turn his back, maybe she could make the swap with him in the room. Felicity gripped the replacement envelope in her bag, waiting for her moment of opportunity. “I was sitting over there by the window,” she said.

  Arthur took the bait. As soon as he lumbered over to search the window ledge, Felicity lunged toward the box on the desk and whipped Gabby’s envelope out of her bag. For a moment, her brain couldn’t even process what she saw. One entire edge of the precious replacement envelope was covered with a gooey stain. With mounting panic, Felicity tore open the front pocket of her bag and saw that her strawberry kiwi lip gloss was missing its top. There was sparkly pink slime everywhere.

  “Crap,” she muttered, stuffing the envelope back into the bag.

  “What’s the matter, honey?”

  “My stupid lip gloss opened up all over my bag.” Felicity’s mind raced. Now she would need to start the computer, retype the fake interview question, find a new envelope, and make the switch before her mom finished her meeting. And that meant she needed to be alone right now.

  While Arthur still had his back turned, Felicity closed her sticky fist around her car keys and slipped them behind a picture on her mom’s desk. “Oh, here they are,” she exclaimed, forcing a laugh. “God, I’m always leaving these everywhere. I need to put a tracking device on them or something.”

  “Keys are so mischievous, aren’t they? Sneaky little buggers.” Arthur trudged toward the door. “Ready to go?”

  “Sure. After you.” On her way out, Felicity pushed the button on the doorknob that kept the lock from engaging, then pulled the door shut behind her. “You’re my knight in shining armor, Arthur,” she said. “Thanks so much for the help.”

  “It was my pleasure. You show them who’s boss tomorrow, okay?” The old security guard patted her cheek and gave her a paternal smile before plodding back toward his post.

  As soon as he turned the corner, Felicity slipped back into the office, closed the door, and turned on her mom’s prehistoric computer. While it booted up, she flipped through the box of gold envelopes until she found number four. If she was going to do this convincingly, she had to know how the original question was formatted. This is it, she thought. This is the moment I become a criminal. She took a deep breath and ripped the envelope open.

  Inside was a sheet of white paper with her question typed in the center: “What food do you think you are most like, and why?”

  Seriously? This was supposed to be her all-important interview question, worth thirty percent of her score? She wondered if the other competitors spent time making lists of foods, animals, and colors they resembled, just in case. What answer could she possibly have given?

  “I’m like a bag of barbecue potato chips—mild on the surface, but hotter and spicier the deeper down you get.”

  “I’m like a coconut—hard to crack, but rewarding if you make the effort.”

  “I’m like a cherry—red, sweet, and hard-hearted.”

  The computer finally whirred to life. Felicity opened a word-processing program and gingerly extracted her gloss-smeared replacement question from its envelope: “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?” It was infinitely better than the other question, and for a moment, she was actually grateful to Gabby. She retyped the question and hit print, then nearly jumped through the ceiling when the printer started making horrible grinding noises.

  “Come on, come on, come on,” she begged in a whisper, stroking
the machine as if it were a cat. “It’s just two lines. You can do it.”

  As soon as the paper dropped into the tray, Felicity heard an even more horrifying sound—her mother’s laughter in the hall. And then a key clicked in the lock.

  There was nowhere to run.

  In a desperate attempt to save herself, Felicity scooped up the papers and torn envelopes, hit the computer’s power button, and dove under the desk. There was no time to grab the new question from the printer. Her heart began performing an Irish step dance, and she curled into a tight ball as the lights flipped on.

  And then she heard Celeste’s voice. “Oh, hang on, Ginger. Do you mind coming to my office for a sec? I brought that dress I was telling you about, and I want to know if you think it’s too slutty for tomorrow.”

  “Cece, I’ve known you thirty years, and I’ve never seen you look slutty, including at Lisa Randall’s ‘Dress Like a Stripper’ birthday party senior year.” Felicity jumped as her mom dropped a stack of papers on the desk directly above her head.

  Celeste giggled. “That was the first time I ever saw pasties. I was mortified. Come on, will you just look at it? It’ll take two seconds.”

  “All right, fine.” The footsteps moved back toward the door.

  “Hey, do you really think Matty can handle running sound? That kid is—” Celeste’s voice cut off as the door slammed.

  Felicity couldn’t believe her luck. She scrambled out from under the desk, snatched the paper from the printer tray, and ransacked the office for extra gold envelopes. After three horrible minutes, she finally located one in the filing cabinet next to the Miss Scarlet crown. She stuffed Gabby’s question inside, scrawled a number four across it with a Sharpie, and slipped it into the box. Then, with the ripped, oily papers balled in her fist, she bolted out of the office and up the stairs.

  As she crouched on the landing, panting, she heard her mom emerge from Celeste’s office and open her own door. “I could swear this was locked,” she mused aloud. “I must be going crazy.” Felicity fled before Ginger had time to think too hard about it.

  She raced across the second floor, pounded down the stairs on the other side of the building, and burst out into the spring twilight. As she cut across the lawn toward the parking lot, Felicity could barely keep from skipping. Sure, she’d had a few very close calls, but the questions were swapped, and now she could execute her plan. She did a little jig next to Yoko before collapsing into the driver’s seat. She was only fifteen minutes late to pick up the twins. If her mom got home before her, Felicity could easily attribute her delay to the boys losing their shoes. I am a criminal mastermind, she thought as she plunked down her lip-gloss-smeared bag and turned on the car.

  It was only when the Sharks in Heaven album started blasting through the speakers that she realized she’d forgotten to swap the music for her tap routine.

  17

  SATURDAY, MAY 29

  Felicity woke to the strange experience of hearing her own name on the radio.

  The DJs at KRED were in a festive mood. “As we all know, Scarletville takes these competitions very seriously,” said one DJ. “We’re expecting a tremendous turnout at City Hall—all seven hundred Miss Scarlet tickets sold out twenty-three minutes after they went on sale.”

  “Several of these girls competed in the Miss Ruby Red pageant five years ago, including winner Madison Banks and first runner-up Felicity St. John,” added the other DJ. “I can’t wait to see them go head to head again this afternoon. We also have some promising newcomers to the scene. Who will take the crown? Join us at two o’clock as we broadcast live from City Hall.”

  Two o’clock—that was only five hours away. Felicity’s stomach tied itself into a series of complicated knots. Five hours from now, she’d be waiting in the wings, ready to act the part of a pageant girl for the very last time. Six hours from now, she would take Gabby down in front of the entire town, and the blackmail would finally end. Seven hours from now, if all went well, she’d be a titleholder armed with the money she needed for art school.

  Or everything could fall apart.

  Her door burst open, and her brothers came barreling in. “Lissy, you’re on the radio!” Tyler announced.

  Felicity rolled over and shut off her clock radio as Andy climbed onto the bed and bounced up and down on her feet. “Are you going to win?” he demanded.

  “I hope so. Do you want me to win?”

  “I guess, but not as much as Mom. She really wants you to win.”

  Felicity smiled grimly. “Yes, I know.”

  As if she had been summoned, Ginger bustled into the bedroom, carrying a breakfast tray adorned with a tiny vase of flowers. She kissed Felicity on the forehead and deposited the tray in her lap. “Breakfast in bed for my beauty queen!”

  Felicity looked with dismay at the scrambled eggs, buttered toast, fruit salad, and orange juice. The gesture was sweet, but she wasn’t sure she could force any of the food down.

  “Thanks, Mom. You’re the best,” she said with a wan smile. She took a small bite of toast. It tasted like dust in her mouth.

  “Make sure you eat all the eggs. You need extra energy today.”

  Felicity reached for her napkin and found a sky-blue envelope tucked underneath. “What’s this?” she asked.

  “It came in the mail for you. Call me when you’re done showering, and I’ll do your hair and makeup before I go over to City Hall, okay?”

  Ginger herded the twins out of the room as Felicity tore open the envelope. Inside was a handmade construction paper card decorated with a child’s drawing of twelve girls in evening gowns. In the middle stood the winner, a glitter glue crown on her head and a bunch of flowers in her hand. Underneath, in careful block print, she was labeled FELICITY.

  Inside, the card read:

  Dear Felicity,

  Good luck in the Miss Scarlet pajent! I can’t wait to see youre beautiful dress. I am youre biggest fan. I am sure you will be the pretiest one. I really really really really hope you win!

  Your friend,

  Katie Vaughn

  Felicity’s stomach lurched and twisted dangerously, and she pushed her breakfast tray aside. She wanted nothing more than to have Gabby thrown out of Scarletville, and she was just starting to come to terms with exposing Rose. But she had completely forgotten about Gabby’s little sisters. Katie was in Andy and Tyler’s class—Felicity saw her all the time when she picked up the twins from day care. She was small for her age, with cartoonishly large eyes, long brown pigtails, and an adorable gap between her front teeth. Picturing her little face made Felicity feel even sicker, and she tucked the card out of sight under her duvet. She tried to banish all the empathy from her mind and replace it with steely resolve.

  The blackmail had to stop. There was only one way to make it stop. Gabby had left her no choice.

  Felicity abandoned her untouched breakfast and took a long, hot shower, then sat quietly as her mom curled her hair and peppered her with competition pointers. When Ginger was happy with her work, she pulled out the hair spray and enveloped her daughter in a sticky cloud. Felicity coughed, tasting the bitter chemical tang at the back of her throat.

  “Perfect,” her mom announced. “That should hold just fine, but spray it again before you go onstage. Now, let me see your nails.”

  When Felicity was thoroughly painted and primped, her mom stepped back, clasped her hands, and regarded her daughter with misty eyes. “Oh, Felicity, you look so beautiful. I’m so proud of you I can barely stand it. You have no idea how wonderful this is for me, watching you up there, dancing to my music. You’re just like a mirror of what I used to be.” Ginger hugged Felicity fiercely, careful not to muss her hair. “You know I can’t show favoritism once we get to City Hall, but remember that I’m sending you all the love in my heart and rooting for you with every cell in my body.”

  The toast churned in Felicity’s stomach as she thought about how furious Ginger would be when she saw the new tap routine. He
r mom had spent seventeen years forcing her into a mold she didn’t fit, but Felicity knew that every moment had been out of love. It wasn’t just about the prize money—Ginger believed in Miss Scarlet with her entire heart and soul and truly thought this was the best possible path for her daughter. The guiltaconda slithered back around Felicity’s chest and began to squeeze, and she was suddenly afraid she might cry. “I could never have gotten here without you,” she said.

  “I know you’ll pay me back by winning.” Ginger pulled back and touched Felicity’s cheek. “I always knew you were a winner, right from the second you were born, and today you get to prove it to everyone. Just do everything exactly like we practiced, and I know that crown will be yours. Do you need anything else before I go?”

  Felicity shook her head. “I’ll be fine. But thanks, Mom. For everything.”

  Ginger embraced her one last time, and Felicity hugged her back, hoping that somewhere deep down, her mom would understand that she couldn’t go through with the pageant exactly as planned. She wanted to win, but she needed to do it her own way and for her own reasons. Even though her mom loved her and wanted the best for her, she had no idea who Felicity really was.

  Today, it was time to show her.

  It was time to show everyone.

  City Hall was in a state of jubilant chaos. When Felicity opened the front door, a cheer rang through the packed lobby, and she had to swim through a sea of patting, squeezing hands to reach the auditorium. She gave the crowd a quick wave, as she knew her mom would want her to, and a fireworks display of camera flashes went off in her face. Momentarily blinded, she stumbled through the auditorium doors. “This is insanity,” she muttered as she heard another cheer go up outside.

  The room was empty except for two volunteers taping down cables on the stage. Felicity made her way to the sound booth, praying it would be unoccupied so she could swap her music before anyone noticed her. Unfortunately, the scrawny, sullen sound operator was already there, bent over a graphic novel.

 

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