"I think you and I are like fireworks," continued James. Beautiful, but just for a moment. That's why we should kiss when the fireworks go off at midnight tonight. It would be an appropriate symbolization of whatever we have."
Roselle crossed her arms. "Is this about the bet with the other guys?"
"Well yes, but don't think about it as such. Think of it as . . ." He looked up in thought. "You choosing me over them."
"I'm not kissing anyone at midnight."
He shrugged.
* * *
After James and Roselle returned to the house, Armani was in the living room, watching a New Years Eve show on TV. He glanced at Roselle, but unlike the other times that day, he didn't attempt to talk to her. He averted his attention back to the television. Was he disappointed, or was that just his resting face?
Dylan was there too, and he titled his head and pointed it in the direction of the kitchen, signaling to her that they had to have a meeting.
* * *
"What is it?" Roselle asked him.
Dylan checked the perimeter to ensure no one was listening in, then turned back to his discussion with Roselle. "I think it's going according to plan. He's convinced that he did something to push you away. I think it's working."
Her stomach flared up again. The guilt from before was back, now more intense and bellowing harder than ever. "Okay, congratulations. We made him feel terrible. How does this translate to him breaking up with Lily?"
"Tonight, at the New Years Eve Firework Display, you have to continue to ignore him. I will also plant seeds of doubt into his head. When he's at his lowest point, that's when you strike."
"That is so messed up."
"I know. I feel guilty too, but we need to do this."
"I can't. This is too much. I'm going to apologize for ignoring him right now." She went to the direction of the kitchen, but Dylan grabbed her arm.
"Wait!" he yelled, desperate and full of angst. "I didn't tell you this before because I knew it was going to worry you, but if we don't take care of this ourselves, Grandma Scott will do it herself!"
Roselle faced him. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"My grandmother has a pattern, but she will do ANYTHING to get her way." He gulped. "She takes the pacifist route first, and if that doesn't work, sometimes she'll . . ." His voice trailed off.
"She'll what?!"
"She hurts people, Ro. I don't know who, and I don't know how, but if we don't do this ourselves, someone will get hurt. I could get into so much trouble for even telling you this, but please believe me."
"Oh no." Roselle chewed on her hair and frantically power-walked in circles. "No, no, no, no! Dylan, we have to call the cops!"
"Keep your voice down." He clasped her hands, which were frozen and lacking nerves. "She's not the kind of woman we can call the police on, Ro. If we even try that, it's the end for both of us. We can still fix this. Please, we have to try."
It appeared as though she had no choice but to partake in the evil scheme.
* * *
Since so much was riding on this plan between Roselle and Dylan, she had to bring her A game; that meant she had to show up to the New Years Eve Firework Display looking like Miss America x1000 because hell, she was going to need it.
She decided to wear the dress that Grandma Scott instructed her to wear on Christmas Eve (but didn't at the time). It was a dress coat. Half dress, half coat. It was white and sparkly, on top and was button down, and for the dress part, it was poofy. She wore warm leggings with it that were invisible and looked like her natural leg color. She also did her makeup for two hours and began doing her hair.
As Roselle finished putting her hair in curls, her sister shook her head at her.
"What?" Roselle asked.
"You're trying way too hard, and it shows."
Her face became hot. "It does?"
"Yeah. I mean, you're a really girly girl and everything, but since when do you put THIS much effort in looking this hot?"
"It's . . . a holiday?"
"A holiday, my ass." Michelle took a seat on the bed next to her. "Are you okay? You seem . . . off. Something's bothering you more than usual. What's up?"
Roselle wanted to tell her everything, how she got caught up in a crazy evil scheme by a powerful, rich woman that might do something violent if she didn't get results the pacifist way. How could she say that though? She would get Michelle involved, and ignorance was bliss.
Instead, she would have to give her the light version of the story. "I seriously messed up with Armani," she said, fiddling with her hair. "I need to get him to break up with Lily! I need to get him to like me again!" She hyperventilated a little.
Michelle's eyes were wide. "Okay, okay. Chill. Just breathe. We can fix this, okay?"
One, two, three, four, five, inhale. Five, four, three, two, one, exhale. She breathed at a more normal rate now. "How?"
"I . . . don't know."
Dan walked in the room, eyeing the sisters chatting on the bed. He walked over to them. "Are you okay, Ro?" His voice was gentle, and he patted her on the back.
"She's stressed because she really wants Armani back," said Michelle. "I'm so glad I already have a boyfriend and don't have crazy problems like this. Ouch."
He sat on the bed with the Reyes sisters. "You guys really have chemistry," he said. "If it weren't for Lily, I know you two would be perfect together."
"But the problem is that there IS a Lily," said Roselle, resting her cheeks in her hands. "What am I going to do if they get married?"
"It wouldn't be the end of the world."
Little did Dan know that it very well COULD be thanks to Grandma Scott.
"Look," said Dan. "If there's one thing I believe, it's that truth will always shine through." His eyes were sparkly and full of hope while he gave his speech. "After hanging out with Armani these past few weeks, I've learned that the trait he loves most in a person is authenticity."
Roselle's memory flashed her back to the elevator, and to the time she and Armani decorated the tree. He did mention that a lot. "Authenticity . . ."
"Just be real, be raw, and be you," he said. "I've never met Lily Strobe, but he talks about her sometimes. I honestly don't think they're a good fit. She keeps playing games with him and he hates it. Even if they did get married, I don't think it would last. You're such a pure and honest girl, Ro. Your radiant personality will shine through."
She nodded. "Thanks guys," she said. "I really needed to hear that."
Roselle then knew what she needed to do: she needed to stop playing this game and be herself.
* * *
Everyone went together to the town's firework display around eleven p.m., which was being held on the top of a hill. There were a moderate amount of people there, but the hill was big enough so everyone could have their own little space.
The Reyes family and the head of state dudes all had lawn chairs and coolers with snacks that they set down on the ground.
"God dammit," Mr. Reyes said. "I told you guys we should have come here sooner. Now we have to sit in the back behind all these people."
His wife rubbed his arm. "We still have an incredible view."
"Yeah, but I hate people."
Roselle and Armani sat on opposite sides of one another. She glanced at him from time to time. He was laughing and chatting with Dan (and oh how his dimples lit up in all the best ways when he laughed), but he never even looked her way. She needed an excuse to talk to him, but what?
Ah, that's it.
She came up to the guys with hot chocolates from the cooler, with two in her hands. "Do you want one?" she asked. Her heart was zig-zagging all over her chest so hard that she felt it in her toes, but she stood her ground.
Armani eyed her for a moment looking somewhat amused that she was talking to him.
"Uh." Dan took his own hearing aid out and threw it in a random direction. "Oh no, my hearing aid! Better go get it." He scurried off.
Eliot came up to them. "Can I have that hot chocolate?"
"Go get one in the cooler," Roselle said.
"But I want to drink hot chocolate with you."
Roselle gave him 'that look,' and he backed off. "Okay . . ." He walked to the cooler, dragging his feet.
She was finally alone with Armani. "Hey," she said, high-pitched and chipper.
"Hey," he returned, fairly neutral.
Was he mad?