Belles

  Izzie slipped off her heels and waded into the bay, hiking her dress up above her knees. The sand felt good against her toes. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed the water till she was in it. She’d swum laps in the Monroes’ pool a bunch of times to get ready for tryouts, but it wasn’t the same thing. She breathed in the salty night air and kicked the water with her foot, her dark cranberry pedicure barely visible in the low light. “God, I would kill to swim right now.”

  “Then why don’t you?” Brayden nudged her forward, getting the bottom of her dress wet.

  “Dude, I’m in a ball gown!” She laughed.

  She shoved Brayden back, getting his pants wet. They splashed around for a few minutes, and by the time they were back on dry land, Izzie’s updo had fallen out and her dress was soaked. Brayden’s shirt looked like it had just come out of the wash, and he had water marks up to his thighs. But she didn’t mind. Brayden always put her at ease. She’d been mad at him an hour before, but now she felt lighter than she had in weeks.

  “There’s the smile I remember.”

  She hadn’t realized Brayden was looking at her. He wrapped his sports coat around her shoulders. He had wisely removed it before their water fight.

  “You’re going to be okay, Isabelle Scott,” he said softly.

  “You think?” She could barely breathe. He was standing so close she could smell his cologne.

  “Yes,” he told her. “Because the girl I know has guts. You won’t let this place beat you. If anything, you’re going to turn this town on its head. I just know it.” She smiled to herself at the thought.

  A second later the moment was gone, and they were laughing about something stupid. They’d barely reached the top of the beach walkway when Izzie saw Lucas striding toward her. She almost dropped the shoes in her hand when she saw how peeved he looked.

  “We’ve been searching for you everywhere,” he said sharply, looking disdainfully from her disheveled appearance to Brayden’s. “Don’t you check your phone? I have the photo set up and the press ready to go. I’ve spent the whole night making sure your introduction to the community goes perfectly, and now look at you! The whole family is waiting for you in front of the boathouse.”

  Her phone was in her bag, Izzie remembered. And she’d left her bag at coat check. It hadn’t occurred to her to keep it on her. “I’m sorry,” she said, that feeling of being an outsider flooding back to her. She instinctively touched her wet head. “Just give me a few minutes and I’ll pull myself together—”

  Lucas cut her off. “I am not letting you ruin things for this campaign. You cannot get into a picture with your uncle for the first time looking like that! No. I’ll tell them I couldn’t find you.” His brown eyes were on fire. “Clean yourself up before anyone else sees you,” he snapped, and walked away.

  Izzie started shaking. It took a lot to rattle her, but Lucas definitely could. She looked at Brayden.

  “What a jerk,” he mouthed. She pulled his jacket tighter and shrugged, embarrassed.

  “Oh and Isabelle?” Lucas said, turning around. She looked over at him. “I don’t ever want something like this to happen again. You’re a Monroe now. You’d better start acting like one.”

  Thirteen

  Izzie stood at the edge of the pool and waited for the signal. At the sound of the buzzer, she dove into the cool water and zipped across the lap lane doing the breaststroke, her specialty.

  Just swim, she told her body. Forget about Coach Greff and whatever she’s going to write on her clipboard. Block out the three dozen girls sitting on the bleachers, watching your every stroke. Ignore the giant ticking clock that is counting the seconds till you reach the end. She heard her mom’s voice inside her head: No guts, no glory, kiddo.

  She swam as hard as she could. When her hands finally hit the wall, she removed her Speedo goggles and looked at the clock.

  Christie Greff, the EP swim coach, grinned. “Just under a minute and ten seconds. Nice.” The petite blond crouched at the pool edge, the whistle around her neck hovering above Izzie’s head. “Are you always that fast?”

  “Yes,” Izzie said, slightly winded. “My personal best is even a few seconds quicker.”

  “Good to know.” Coach Greff scribbled on her pad. “Think you can do it again?”

  “Yes,” she said, trying not to get too excited. She knew the Emerald Prep swim team was highly competitive. They’d won their division the past three years, and most of the team was made up of juniors and seniors. She was lucky they had four slots to fill. Izzie desperately wanted one. She had been thinking a lot about what Brayden had said the night of the regatta party. She’d never been a quitter and she wasn’t about to start now. She had to show this town they couldn’t beat her.

  The coach looked over Izzie’s info sheet. “I see you placed at the Harborside Community Center for diving. And the breaststroke. And you were a lifeguard this summer? You seem pretty qualified for the team.” She frowned slightly. “As long as you get those grades up this year.”

  Izzie nodded. She knew the Cs she got at Harborside wouldn’t cut it here at EP. Her aunt and uncle had told her that when they’d squeaked her by admissions. She also knew she had more time to study now that she wasn’t working. (Or taking care of Grams, she thought guiltily.) She could do better. She would do better, which was what she told Coach Greff.

  The coach smiled. “Okay, then, take a seat, and we’ll have you challenge one of the girls in a few minutes. I’d love to see what you could do with an IM.” An IM was an individual medley that included four laps, each with a different stroke: freestyle, breaststroke, butterfly, and backstroke. The IM was one of Izzie’s strongest races after breast.

  Izzie pulled herself out of the water and wrapped a towel around her waist before walking the long way around the pool and over to the bleachers. She kept her eyes locked on the bench to avoid the piercing stares of some of the other swimmers. Whether they were impressed with her swimming or just making a snide comment, she didn’t know. She was getting used to the staring, but that didn’t mean she had to like it. Savannah’s whispers echoed off the high ceilings. She was the hardest to ignore. She was dressed in a lime-green one-piece and a navy-blue swim cap with green polka dots. Even her swim caps are trendy, Izzie thought. Izzie sat on the bottom bench, feeling the steel against her legs, and looked down at her toes. She had painted them green for luck. Green was her community center team’s color. As she was examining her less-than-stellar pedicure skills, she felt someone slide down the bench next to her.

  “Hey. Nice breaststroke.” It was Violet, the girl who had stopped her on the way to lunch on the first day of school. At least Izzie thought it was her. It was hard to tell when her hair was hidden under a swim cap, but there was no mistaking the girl’s deep-set, dark, oval eyes.

  “You’re Violet, right?” Izzie asked, and the girl nodded. “Good, because I feel like I’ve been stalking you unsuccessfully—but not in a creepy way,” Izzie added quickly. “You’re one of the most normal people I’ve met at EP, and I’ve only talked to you once. It makes for a pretty lonely existence.”

  Violet laughed. “Well, I’m glad to hear I’m one of the select few who fall into the normal category.” She leaned closer. “Although I totally know what you mean about this place. This is Nicole,” she said, motioning to a blond girl, who slipped as she descended from the seat above them. Nicole was so beautiful and Amazonian in stature that it would be easy to be intimidated, but Izzie also knew the girl was a klutz, which brought her back down to earth. Whenever Izzie saw Nicole on campus, she was tripping or dropping something, and that morning she’d actually mixed the wrong chemicals during biology and smoked out the class.

  “You’re Mira’s cousin, right?” Nicole said, not waiting for a reply. “I heard about you and Brayden Townsend! Were you two really hanging out the night of the regatta party? Savannah is so peeved.” She whispered conspiratorially. “She was whining to Mira about it in the locker room bef
ore gym. She thought I was tying my sneakers with my iPod on, but I ‘forgot’ to press Play and heard everything.”

  “Nic, ‘Hi, nice to meet you’ might have been a better ‘hello,’ ” Violet deadpanned.

  Izzie heard Savannah’s laugh, and her chest tightened. She was not scared of the girl in the least, but she also didn’t want to give her any more ammunition with Brayden.

  “Don’t worry about Savannah,” Violet assured her, reading her thoughts. “Karma’s a killer. She’s made a lot of girls’ lives miserable—including mine and Nic’s. I’m glad to see something finally go wrong in her otherwise perfect life. One time she had me locked out of the cafeteria because I was carrying the same lunch bag she was,” Violet said. “Where I come from, they’d stuff you in a locker for a stunt like that. I can’t do that here. I’m on scholarship.”

  Izzie was comforted by the fact that Violet couldn’t afford the twenty-thousand-dollar yearly tuition, either. “Have you gone here since sixth grade?” she asked.

  Violet fiddled with her watch, which looked like an orange. “No. We moved here last year from New York. It’s okay, I guess. A little too much open space and a few too many debutantes.” She grinned. “Savannah was fine with me at first. Then she realized that just because I’m from New York doesn’t mean I’m a ‘Gossip Girl.’ We couldn’t have lived farther from the Upper East Side.”

  “I got in because I’m a founder’s great-granddaughter,” Nicole admitted. “It’s practically written in the school code that they have to admit Jameses.”

  “Thank God, or you would have flunked out your first week of sixth grade,” Violet said, and the two started to bicker playfully.

  “I wasn’t with Brayden at the regatta party.” Izzie felt the need to say that. They stopped and looked at her. Izzie glanced quickly at Savannah. If she was upset about Brayden, she didn’t show it. She was deep in conversation with half the team and barely came up to take a breath. “I mean, I was with Brayden, but not like that. We’re friends.” The word friend still stung even after a weekend of letting it sink in.

  “You must be good friends, then,” Nicole said. “He left Savannah half the night to hang out with you. Well, that’s what she told Mira. Brayden’s one of the coolest guys in the grade. Why he’s still with Savannah, I’ll never know.”

  “Jedi mind powers,” Violet said knowingly. “He can’t see how evil she is because she acts like a peach whenever he’s within ten feet of her. Is he in one of your classes?”

  How could Izzie explain the connection when there really wasn’t one? Not here in EC, anyway, and she couldn’t tell them about Brayden hanging out in Harborside. “I know him through the Monroes,” Izzie said, trying to sound convincing.

  Nicole looked disappointed. “Bummer. I was dying to know how he rated as a kisser.”

  “You’re better off not knowing the answer to that question,” Violet told Izzie. “Savannah is pretty possessive. She thought Nic was flirting with Brayden last year during a bake sale and Savannah dropped a blueberry cobbler in Nic’s lap.”

  “She knocked my latte over, too, and it spilled all over my new rain boots,” Nicole complained, pursing her lips. “God, thinking about that makes me wish I had a coffee right now. I usually hit the coffee bar after eighth period, but today Coach Greff wanted us here early.”

  “I can’t believe the school has a coffee bar,” Izzie said. Some things still amazed her.

  “It’s a little much, right?” Violet agreed. “Welcome to Emerald Prep.”

  EP’s coffee bar was actually a Starbucks inside the Walburn Library. Izzie hadn’t gone to it. An iced mocha was $4.50. She couldn’t stomach spending her aunt’s money on that. She couldn’t believe she had spending money in the first place when she no longer had a job.

  “We prefer the coffee bar in town,” Violet told Izzie. “It’s not an EP magnet like the school one is.” A buzzer went off behind them and another girl dove into the water for her first tryout. Violet motioned to the pool. “So, it looks like you are a shoo-in.”

  “I hope so,” Izzie said wistfully. “I was on a team at my community center. My old school didn’t have swim team. But you probably know all that already.”

  “About you being from Harborside? Big deal.” Violet shrugged. “That doesn’t scare me. I’m from Brooklyn. Besides, you don’t look like you could beat me with a pipe.” Izzie raised an eyebrow.

  “You don’t beat people, though, do you?” Nicole bit a strand of hair peeking out of her swim cap. Violet nudged her. “What? My mom says I have great bone structure, and I’d hate to mess with that.”

  “I don’t beat people,” Izzie assured her. “But it’s nice to finally hear someone be honest! Everyone else pretends to act nice to me when what they really want to know is if they train us in Harborside to be criminals.” Nicole looked anxious. “The answer is: They don’t.”

  “Now that would be an interesting after-school club,” Violet joked.

  Izzie laughed. Finally, she had found girls she could talk to. Where had they been hiding?

  Maybe they hadn’t been. Maybe she was the one who had been doing the hiding.

  “Whoa,” Violet said, and Izzie looked up. The swimmer had already reached the other side of the wall. Her freestyle time was fifty-eight seconds. “She’s going to make the team for sure.”

  One less slot for me, Izzie thought as she watched the freshman.

  Violet nudged her. “Don’t sweat it. You’re going to make the team. Did you see some of the girls who tried out? Coach Greff is lucky they know how to blow bubbles out of their nose.”

  “Next, I’d like to have Isabelle Scott, Savannah Ingram, and Millie Lennon down front for an IM,” Coach Greff announced with her megaphone.

  “Good luck,” Violet said as Nicole clapped wildly.

  Izzie walked to the edge of the pool to take her place next to Millie, the girl who had nailed the freestyle. She looked terrified. Savannah quickly blocked Izzie’s path.

  She smiled coolly at Izzie. “Look at you swimming like a pro. At least you’re meant to get wet today.” She leaned in close and whispered in Izzie’s ear. “I have no idea what you were doing with my boyfriend at the regatta party, but you won’t be doing it again. Got it? Stay. Away. From. Him. I will make you supremely sorry if you don’t.”

  “Get ready, ladies,” the coach said. Each girl walked to her mark, and Izzie kept her head down. She wasn’t about to argue with Savannah now. She had to concentrate.

  “Hi, Savannah,” Izzie heard Millie nervously introduce herself. “I’m Millie. You’re really good.”

  “And you’re not,” Savannah said flatly. “Better luck next year.” Millie looked miserably at a puddle on the floor.

  “Okay, girls, we’re going to do an IM to see how you race,” Coach Greff said through a megaphone from across the pool. “Savannah holds the record, so I’d like to see how you two stack up against her. Good luck.”

  “You’re going to need it,” Savannah said under her breath as she took a graceful position on her starting block and adjusted her swim cap.

  Izzie put on her goggles, got on the diving block, and waited for the buzzer. When it sounded, she exploded off the diving block and swam freestyle down the first lap. The water churned from her kicks and arm strokes, and her head turned quickly in and out of the water for breaths. There was no time to see where Savannah and Millie were. She just had to swim as hard as she could and count the laps in her head. Two for freestyle… two for breaststroke… two for the butterfly… and then she hit the wall and quickly turned onto her back for the last two laps. Now she could hear the screaming again. It sounded like it was getting more frantic and louder, but she couldn’t be sure and she couldn’t waste a second to check.

  When her hands finally hit the wall, Izzie looked down the line at the other lap lanes. The water churned choppily around her. When she saw that Millie was already at the wall, her heart sank. But where was Savannah? Izzie heard the buzzer soun
d again. That meant the last person had reached the wall, and it wasn’t her! Izzie saw Savannah angrily rip off her swim cap.

  “Times,” Coach Greff announced. “Millie Lennon: two minutes and fifty-four seconds. Isabelle Scott: two minutes and fifty-six seconds. And Savannah Ingram, still a personal best at three minutes.” She shook her head in amazement. “Girls, that was incredible! Millie and Isabelle, I think it’s safe to say you’ve officially made the team.” A round of cheers went up from the bleachers as Savannah glared at them, her chest rising and falling rapidly. “I’d also like to congratulate Holly Abrams, sophomore, and Carly Banks, junior. The rest of you, thanks for trying out.”

  Izzie felt like she was going to burst. She wished she had someone to share this excitement with. She could call Grams and tell her, but her grandmother hadn’t recognized her when she visited last Saturday, and it had been upsetting. She’d call Kylie instead the moment she dried off. Brayden would be happy for her, too, but she couldn’t call him, could she? She wiped her face with a towel and thought about texting him. That’s when she felt the towel get ripped out of her hands.

  “Welcome to the team, fish!” Violet yelled as Nicole hugged Izzie. “We’re taking you to Corky’s to celebrate.”

  Izzie remembered Corky’s from her first ride into town. She heard people talk about the popular hamburger haunt all the time. Mira was a regular. Up until now, Izzie hadn’t had anyone to go with. She grinned. “You don’t have to twist my arm. I’m in.”

  “Forget Corky’s,” Izzie heard someone else say, and she turned around.

  Savannah stood with her hands on her hips, but she was actually smiling at Izzie, which was sort of disturbing. “Congratulations on making the team! I knew you would.”

  “Uh, thanks,” Izzie said, and waited for the punch line.