Foxy was held in Kingman Hall, an old English countryside mansion built by a man who'd invented some new-fangled milking machine in the early 1900s. In fourth grade, when they learned about the hall in the All About Pennsylvania social studies unit, Emily nicknamed it "Moo Mansion."
As the check-in girl scrutinized their invites. Emily looked around. The place had a labyrinthine garden in its front yard. Gargoyles leered from the arches of the mansion's stately front. Ahead of her was the tent where the actual event was being held. It was lit up with fairy lights and full of people.
"Wow." Toby came up beside her. Beautiful girls swished by them toward the tent, wearing elaborate, custom-made dresses and carrying bejeweled bags. Emily looked down at her own dress—it was a simple, strapless pink sheath Carolyn had corn to prom last year. She'd done her hair herself, put on a lot of Carolyn's ultra-girly Lovely perfume—which made her sneeze—and was wearing earrings for the first time in a while, poking them forcefully through the holes in her ears that had almost closed up. Even with all that, she still felt plain next to everyone else.
Yesterday, when Emily called Toby to ask him to Foxy, he'd sounded so surprised—but really excited. She was psyched, too. They would go to Foxy, share another kiss, and who knew? Maybe become a couple. In time, they would visit Jenna at her school in Philadelphia, and Emily would somehow make it all up to her. She'd foster Jenna's next Seeing Eye dog. She'd read to her all the books that hadn't yet come out in Braille. Maybe, in time, Emily would confess her involvement in Jenna's accident.
Or maybe not.
Except now that she was at Foxy, something just felt…wrong. Emily's body kept feeling hot then cold, and her stomach kept clenching up in pain. Toby's hands felt too scratchy, and she'd been so nervous, they'd barely said anything to each other on the way over. Foxy itself didn't seem to be very calming, either; everyone was so stiff and poised. And Emily was sure someone was watching her. As she inspected every girl's made-up, glossy face and every guy's scrubbed, handsome one, she wondered, Are you A?
"Smile!" A flashbulb popped in Emily's face, and she let out a little scream. When the spots faded from her eyes, a blond girl in a merlot-red dress with a press badge over her right boob and a digital camera slung over her shoulder was laughing at her. "I was just taking photos for the Philadelphia Inquirer," she explained. "Wanna try that again, without the freaked expression this time?" Emily clutched Toby's arm and tried to look happy, except her expression was more of a petrified grimace.
After the press girl whirled away, Toby turned to Emily. "Is something wrong? You seemed so relaxed in front of a camera before?"
Emily stiffened. "When have you seen me in front of a camera?"
"The Rosewood versus Tate?" Toby reminded her. "That crazy yearbook kid?"
"Oh, right." Emily breathed out.
Toby's eyes followed a waiter scurrying around with a drink tray. "So, is this your scene?"
"God, no!" Emily said. "I've never been to anything like this in my life."
He looked around. "Everyone looks so…so plastic. I used to want to kill most of these people."
A sharp, startled frisson passed through Emily. It was the same sort of feeling she'd felt when she woke up in the back of Toby's car. When Toby noticed her face, he quickly smiled. "Not literally." He squeezed her hand. "You're much prettier than all the girls here."
Emily flushed. Only she was finding that her insides didn't turn upside down when he said it or when he touched her. They should. Toby looked hot. Gorgeous, actually, in his black suit and black wingtips, with his hair pushed back off his angular, square-jawed face. Every girl was checking him out. When he'd shown up on her porch, even mild-mannered Carolyn had squealed, "He's so cute!"
But when he held her hand, as much as she wanted it to feel like something, it felt like nothing. It was like holding hands with her sister.
Emily tried to relax. She and Toby made their way into the tent, got two virgin pina coladas, and joined a bunch of kids on the dance floor. There were only a handful of girls who were trying to dance in that uber-sexy, hands-above-the-head, I'm getting my moves down for MTV Spring Break way. Most everyone else was just jumping around, singing along to Madonna. Technicians were setting up a karaoke machine in the corner, and girls were writing down the songs they wanted to sing.
Emily broke away to go to the bathroom, leaving the tent and walking through a sexy, candlelit hallway paved in rose petals. Girls passed her, arm and arm, whispering and giggling. Emily discreetly checked out her chest; she'd never worn a strapless dress before and was certain it was going to fall down and expose her boobs to the world.
"Want a reading?"
Emily looked over. A dark-haired woman dressed in a silky, paisley-print dress at a small table under a huge portrait of Horace Kingman, the milking-machine inventor himself. She wore a ton of bracelets on her left arm and a large snake brooch at her throat. A deck of cards sat next to her along with a little sign at the edge of the table: The Magic Of The Tarot.
"That's okay," Emily told her. The taro reader was so…public. Out here in the open, in the middle of the hall.
The woman extended a long fingernail toward her. "You need one, though. Something's going to happen to you tonight. Something life-changing."
Emily stiffened. "Me?"
"Yes, you. And the date you brought? He's not the one you want. You must go to the one you really love."
Emily's mouth fell open, and her mind began to race.
The tarot reader looked as if she was about to say something else, but Naomi Zeigler pushed past Emily and sat down at the table. "I met you here last year," Naomi gushed, leaning excitedly on her elbows, "You gave me the best reading ever."
Emily slunk away, her mind churning. Something was going to happen to her tonight? Something… life-changing? Maybe Ben was going to tell everyone. Or Maya was going to tell everyone. A was going to show everyone those pictures. Or A had told Toby…about Jenna. It could be anything.
Emily splashed cold water on her face and exited the bathroom. As she made the turn for the tent, she bumped into someone's back. As soon as she saw who it was, her body tensed.
"Hey," Ben said in a mock-friendly tone, drawing the word out. He wore a charcoal suit and had a small white gardenia punned to his lapel.
"H-Hey," Emily stammered. "I didn't know you were coming."
"I was going to say the same thing to you." Ben leaned down. "I saw you with him at yesterday's Tate meet, too. How much did you have to pay him to come here with you?"
Emily pushed past him. She strode down the shadowy hall, nothing this would not be the best time to trip in her heels. Ben's footsteps rang out behind her. "Why are you running away?" he singsonged.
"Leave me alone." She didn't turn around.
"Is that dude your bodyguard? First he protects you at swimming, now here. Only where is he now? Or did you only rent him to walk in with you, so everybody wouldn't think you were a big lesbo?" Ben let out a little snicker.
"Ha ha." Emily whirled around to face him. "You're funny."
"Yeah?" Ben shoved her up against the wall. Just like that. He pinned her wrists back and pressed his body to hers. "Is this funny?"
Ben's actions were forceful and his body was heavy. Just feet away, kids swept past them toward the bathrooms. Didn't they see? "Stop it," Emily mustered.
His rough hand reached for the hem of her dress. He poked Emily's kneecap, then slid his hand up her leg. "Just tell me that you like this," he said in her ear. "Or I'll tell everyone you're a dyke."
Tears came to Emily's eyes. "Ben," she whispered, pressing her legs together. "I'm not a dyke."
"Then say you like it," Ben growled. His hand squeezed her bare thigh.
Ben was getting closer and closer to her underwear. When they were dating, they hadn't gotten this far. Emily bit her lip so hard, she was certain she drew blood. She was about to give in and tell him she liked it, just so he'd stop, but fury slashed through her. Let Ben think what he wanted. Let him tell the whole school. No way could he do this to her.
She pressed her body up against the wall for leverage. Then she brought up her knee and angled it toward Ben's crotch. Hard.
"Uff!" Ben stepped away, holding his groin. A tiny, babyish wail came out of his mouth. "What did you…?" he gasped.
Emily straightened her dress. "Stay away from me." Anger coursed through her like a drug. "I swear to God."
Ben staggered backward and hit the far wall. His knees buckled, and he slid down until he was sitting on the floor. "Bad, bad move."
"Whatever," Emily said, then turned to walk away. She took long, confident strides. She wouldn't let him see how upset she was. That she was on the verge of tears.
"Hey." Someone gently grabbed Emily's arm. When Emily's eyes focused, the realized it was Maya.
"I just saw the whole thing," Maya whispered, nudging her chin to where Ben was still crouched. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah," Emily said quickly. But her voice caught. She tried to hold it together, but she couldn't She leaned against the wall and covered her face with her hands. If she just counted to ten, she could get through this. One… two… three…
Maya touched Emily's arm. "I'm so sorry, Em."
"Don't be," Emily managed, her face still covered. Eight… nine… ten. She took her hands away and straightened up. "I'm fine."
She paused, looking at Maya's ivory geisha-style dress. She looked so much prettier than all of the blond, French-twisted, Chanel clones she'd seen on her way in. She ran her hands along the sides of her own dress, wondering if Maya was checking her out too. "I…I should probably get back to my date," Emily stammered.
Maya took a tiny step to the side. Only Emily couldn't move an inch.
"I have a secret for you before you go," Maya said.
Emily came closer and Maya leaned into Emily's ear. Her lips didn't touch it, but they were so close. Tingles shot up Emily's back, and she heard herself breathe in sharply. It wasn't right to respond this way, but she just…couldn't…help it.
Go to the one you really love.
"I'll wait for you," Maya whispered, her voice a little sad and a lot sexy. "However long it takes.