Madeline gestured to the caterers in white uniforms scurrying around backstage and setting chrome tureens, platters, pitchers, and glasses on a long folding table.
“We’ve got sparkling cider, hors d’oeuvres, cheeses. Nondairy stuff for Norah, gluten-free stuff for Madison.”
“And don’t forget about Alicia Young,” Laurel said, smoothing a nonexistent wrinkle on her cocktail dress.
“She’s on that grapefruit-and-cayenne-pepper cleanse.”
Charlotte looked like she was going to explode. “That diet is nasty. She’s just going to have to suffer.”
A pang overcame me as I watched the preparations. I vaguely remembered planning last year’s Homecoming Court party. The theme and decorations were no more than wisps, but I remembered the moment I’d stepped out to announce the winners, knowing I looked more glamorous than al of them combined. And I remembered a faceless guy—my date—catching my arm afterward and tel ing me that I was the most gorgeous girl on the stage. “I know,” I’d replied, shooting him one of my signature Sutton Mercer smiles.
Sharp, staccato, high-heeled clacks fil ed the room as court girls filed in, each with a black garment bag slung over her arm and perfectly styled hair piled atop her head or cascading down her back in soft ringlets. They oohed and ahhed over the set design, letting out little gasps and appreciative squeals. Gabby and Lili entered last, noses in the air, hairdos bigger and bouncier than anyone else’s. Emma turned away fast and pretended to fix a frayed ribbon on one of the tables, but she could stil feel their eyes burning on her.
“Gabby! Lili!” Laurel shot across the room and linked her elbows through the Twins’. “Let me show you your dressing rooms! We ran out of room down here, so you guys get to change upstairs in the lighting booth.”
Gabby extracted herself from Laurel’s grip. “Lemme just finish my tweet, ’kay?”
Laurel rol ed her eyes and waited while Gabby’s thumbs flew across her phone at warp speed. When Gabby finished, she let out a satisfied sigh. “We’re ready to be taken to our chambers now,” she said in a queenlike voice. As Laurel steered them up a staircase, both twins leveled stares at Emma. Laurel twisted around, too, signaling a covert thumbs-up to Madeline and Charlotte.
“Okay, girls!” Charlotte clapped her hands and drew the rest of the court members into a circle. “You al need to get changed for your big entrance! People are filing in here in ten minutes. Don’t forget heels and a fresh coat of gloss!
And remember, the makeup artist is going to come and put blood in your hair and paint blue circles under your eyes.”
The girls pouted. “Do we real y have to do that?” Tinsley Zimmerman whined.
“Yes,” Charlotte answered sharply, her slight smirk revealing just how much she loved being the boss. Tinsley eyed Charlotte’s party dress. “You’re not wearing corpse makeup. We’l look uglier than you!”
That’s the point, I thought.
“It’l make you look avant-garde and chic,” Madeline said, sounding like a fashion editor. “You’re dead beauties of the Titanic. You drowned in the ocean. How do you think you should look? Like a Bobbi Brown spring campaign?” She gestured to a bunch of dressing rooms at the back. “Now go change!”
The court girls turned, giving one another cryptic, I-knowsomething-you-don’t smiles, reminding Emma that none of them knew exactly who was getting pranked today. Tinsley slammed a dressing room door shut before anyone could join her. Alicia Young—she of the nasty cleanse diet—
ducked into a tiny, curtained-off alcove to change. Madison Cates looked around furtively, then slipped into the shadows and pul ed a black sequined gown over her stiff hair. The other girls disappeared as wel . When they emerged from their respective dressing rooms in their black gowns, their faces registered notes of surprise.
“I was hoping the joke was on you,” Tinsley, who wore a strapless gown, said to Norah Alvarez.
“Wel , I hoped it was on you,” Norah snapped back, smoothing the feather col ar on her flapper dress. Makeup artists whirled around, swiping each girl’s mouth with corpse-blue lipstick. Emma leaned toward Charlotte.
“So we’re sure Gabby and Lili don’t suspect anything?”
Charlotte glanced at the dressing room on the second floor. The door was shut tight. “Last I checked, they had no clue.” Pul ing a walkie-talkie from her hip, she pressed TALK.
“How’s everything going, Laurel?”
“Great!” Laurel’s voice blared fuzzily through the speaker.
“I’m just helping Gabby and Lili get dressed. They look fabulous!”
A crafty smile appeared on Charlotte’s lips. “Perfect. We need them down here in five minutes, okay? Stay up there until then. We’l send the makeup artists up.”
“Aye aye!”
When Laurel radioed off, Charlotte rubbed her hands together. “We need to keep them up there until the very second they have to go on stage. They’l have no time to change.”
Madeline joined them, giggling. “This is going to be so good.”
“I hope so.” Charlotte stared at the velvet curtain that separated the back stage from the front, a serious look suddenly crossing her face. “Just as long as we don’t land Gabby in the hospital again.”
Madeline stiffened. “We didn’t land Gabby in the hospital. Sutton did.”
Both of them turned and glanced at Emma. Emma felt a sharp punch to her stomach. They had to be talking about the train prank. She waited for either of them to elaborate, but Madeline started fiddling with her clipboard and Charlotte strode away.
The final bel rang, and the doors to the lobby flung open. Emma peeked out from behind the curtains. Students poured down the center aisle and fil ed the plush red seats. Freshman girls gaped at the Titanic set, squealing about how they couldn’t wait until they were old enough to be on the court. A group of girls Madeline and the others cal ed the Vegan Virgins—for reasons Emma wasn’t entirely sure of, though she had a pretty good guess—plopped down next to a couple of the corpses and screamed. The entire footbal team sat together, shoving one another and jockeying for attention. Nearly everyone in the audience pul ed their phones from their bags and sneakily checked the screens.
Charlotte’s words swirled in Emma’s mind. Just as long as we don’t land Gabby in the hospital again. What exactly happened that night? Had Sutton hurt Gabby? The message in the box with the train charm flooded back: I will always be seized with the memory.
“Showtime!” Charlotte scurried to the court nominees, who were al inspecting their drowning-victim makeup in the ful -length mirrors. Emma let the curtain close and stared at the ceiling, as though she could see straight up to the Twitter Twins’ dressing room. “Everyone line up! I’m going to announce you to the school in a couple of minutes!” The six non-prank court girls found their dates, six cute guys who looked absolutely mortified to be in tuxedos. Charlotte glanced over her shoulder, waving her hands around like an air traffic control er. “Mads, you’re going to welcome the crowd. Sutton, you’l enter from stage left—
your mark is a big X on the floor—with al the Homecoming Court sashes for the girls and guys. I’l come in from stage right. Sutton, can you open the box of sashes? They’re by the mirrors. Sutton?”
Emma blinked, breaking out of her trance. “Uh-huh.” She walked toward the box of sashes to the left of the stage. Laurel’s voice crackled over the walkie-talkie. “Uh, Mads? Can we come down now?”
Madeline checked her watch. “No! I need you to stay up there for a little while longer.”
“Uh . . .” Feedback screeched through the walkie-talkie speaker. “Actual y? I’m not sure that’s possible.”
The door to the lighting booth flung open, and the Twitter Twins appeared on the landing. They were dressed in skimpy string bikinis and tal silver stilettos. Their tanned skin gleamed. Their legs stretched for miles. But they also looked naked compared to the glamorous court girls in their gowns. Laurel stood behind them, shooting a helpless look to Charlotte, Madeline, and Emma on the ground. “I tried!” she mouthed.
As Gabby and Lili pranced down the stairs with proud, pageant-queen smiles on their faces, Emma was able to pinpoint the exact moment they noticed the other court nominees in their gowns. Their mouths dropped. They halted in their place. Norah nudged Madison. Alicia began to giggle. Everyone was suddenly in on the joke.
“Priceless,” Charlotte murmured excitedly.
“Sweet,” Madeline whispered, arching onto her toes in anticipation of the reveal to the crowd.
Emma tensed, waiting for their reaction. But the scantily clad Twitter Twins simply shared a private look, then Lili marched to a dark alcove at the back of the room. “Fear not, Gabs!”
She unearthed a wrinkled Saks shopping bag from the nook, a bag that had clearly been planted hours—if not days—before. Tissue paper crinkled as she reached her hand inside and pul ed out two slinky black dresses. Charlotte and Madeline gaped at each other, while Laurel looked sheepishly on.
“Where did these Yigal Azrouël wrinkle-free jersey dresses come from?” Gabby said in exaggerated wonder.
“And, wow! They’re even in our size!”
The Twitter Twins slipped the dresses over their heads, whipped around, and glowered at Charlotte, Madeline, Laurel, and Emma. “Nice try,” Lili said icily as one of the makeup artists rushed to her and swiped blue shadow under her eyes. “We could see your lame trick from a mile away.”
Gabby turned to Emma. “We’re not as stupid as we look, Sutton. You of al people should know that.”
Emma pressed a hand to her chest. “I never said you were stupid.”
A sarcastic snort escaped from Gabby’s mouth. “Right.”
Without averting her gaze, she marched up to Emma, reached into the Saks bag, and pul ed out a pil bottle with the same pink top Emma had noticed the other day. The prescription name, written in bold black letters, flashed before Emma’s eyes. TOPAMAX. Emma flinched. She’d been sure Gabby was popping Ritalin or Valium or some other party drug. But Topamax sounded serious.
Gabby removed the top and shook two capsules into her hands. She belted them down without water. After she swal owed, she shook the medicine bottle like a castanet, her eyes on Emma once more. “Don’t you think you should get our sashes and take your place now, Sutton?” she said in a taunting voice. “You’re at stage left, right?”
For a moment, Emma couldn’t move. It was like Gabby had cast a spel on her, paralyzing al her limbs. Charlotte nudged her side. “This blows, but she’s right. It’s time to go. Places, girls!”
“One sec!” Lili shouted, heading for the stairs to the lighting booth once more. “I forgot my iPhone!”
“You don’t need your iPhone!” Madeline growled. “You’re going to be busy onstage!”
But Lili didn’t slow down, her heels clacking on the metal stairs. “It’l just take a second.”
