“I should run,” Hayden said as a bell chimed to give the ten-minute warning till homeroom. “Play nice, ladies,” he said as he straightened his navy vest and winked at Mira. “That one is more for you.” Mira stuck her tongue out at him as he jogged across the lawn. The image of Hayden’s navy-clad back against a sea of plaid would make an awesome picture. Mira sighed. She wished Hayden didn’t have homeroom in another building. Izzie didn’t seem as stiff around him.
The girls stared at each other awkwardly. “We should get going, too,” Mira said, and examined her plaid skirt for wrinkles. She adjusted her headband, pulled her paisley backpack higher on her shoulders, and scanned the crowd for Savannah or Taylor. No such luck. Emerald Prep students were from over twenty-five zip codes, and of every size, shape, and color, yet they all looked the same in their navy uniforms. Mira always liked that part of school. As much as she valued her Vogue subscription, there was nothing easier than slipping on the same outfit five days a week.
The two walked the rest of the way in silence and Mira felt as heavy as the art center’s double doors as she swung them open and led Izzie into the atrium. She noticed Izzie’s jaw drop slightly. The massive octagon-shaped ceiling had a Civil War battle painted on it. Mira looked down at her pricey ballet flats, avoiding eye contact with everyone on her way to class. She didn’t want to be late, and explaining who Izzie was would take a longer conversation. But she had to say something to Izzie, didn’t she? How come Izzie and Hayden seemed so comfortable, but when Izzie was with her, it was like pulling teeth?
“So what do you think about Emerald Prep?” Mira asked. “Incredible, huh?”
Izzie looked like a deer caught in headlights. “It’s huge.”
“Yeah, but once you know the layout, it’s easy,” Mira said as she led the way upstairs to class. “We have the first few periods together, but then you’re on your own. You can call me if you need anything, though. We’re not really supposed to use cell phones, but you can in the halls if it’s an emergency.”
“I’m sure I can find my way around,” Izzie told her, and Mira couldn’t tell if Izzie was being honest or rude. She tended to think it was the latter, which made Mira want to ditch her there and then.
“Great! Well, here we are.” Mira pushed open the home-room door and instantly the volume was louder. Savannah was nestled in a corner with Lea Price and some of their other friends. When Savannah saw Mira, she looked up and gave a little wave. Her beautiful blond hair covered the right side of her face, but her brown eyes immediately locked on Izzie. So did everyone else’s.
Time for introductions, Mira thought with a pit in her stomach. Mira adopted her cheerleader voice again. “Hey, guys! I want you to meet my cousin, Izzie.”
“Dizzie?” Lea repeated. Lea was desperate to be in Savannah’s back pocket and was always vying for Savannah’s attention.
“No, Izzie, as in Isabelle,” Mira said patiently. “She just moved to Emerald Cove.”
“Yes, from Harborside, right?” Savannah asked, smiling sweetly as she took in Izzie from head to toe. “It’s so nice to meet you, Izzie. I’m Savannah, Mira’s best friend.”
“Hey,” Izzie said, and shifted the strap on her messenger bag closer to her chest.
“Do you like Emerald Cove so far?” Savannah asked, and twisted a ring on her middle finger around and around. “I couldn’t imagine living anywhere else.”
“How much do you like that house?” chimed in their friend Lauren Salbrook as she straightened the headband holding back her long brown hair. “I want Mira’s bathroom so bad. It has a Jacuzzi tub!”
Mira started to relax a little. Her friends were being really nice! This wasn’t going as bad as she thought it would. They probably felt sorry for Izzie after reading all the articles, Mira realized guiltily. That was the one thing she’d forgotten to be so far herself.
“And Mira’s dad is such a teddy bear,” Lea added.
“You are so lucky to be living with the Monroes,” Savannah said, and looked at Izzie’s feet. Mira’s mom had bought her the same pair of ballet flats as Mira. “Cute shoes! I have the same ones.”
“Thanks,” Izzie said, continuing her tradition of one-word answers. Mira slid into the seat next to Savannah, feeling relief wash over her, and opened her book bag to retrieve a notebook.
Izzie went to take the seat next to Mira, but Lea quickly slid her notebook over to block her. “I’m so sorry, but this seat is saved for Jill,” she said apologetically. “She should be here any minute.”
“Oh, okay.” Izzie grabbed her bag and turned to the desk in front of Mira.
“This seat is taken, too,” Lauren said, sticking her hand out like she was blocking traffic. “Bernadette texted me that she should be here any second.” She wrinkled her face like a prune.
Is Bernadette even in this class? Mira wondered.
“God, you must think we’re so rude!” Savannah said to Izzie with a condescending smile. “We’ve sat in a clump like this since we started at EP. But there are still some seats nearby.” Savannah looked around, then pointed to a row near the front that the geek quotient dominated. “There’s a free one.”
Izzie’s expression changed slightly. “Thanks,” she said to Savannah. “I’ll catch up with you guys later.”
“Absolutely!” Savannah nodded. “We’ll see you after class.”
Mira’s face flushed pink as Izzie walked away. She knew what was happening. They were freezing Izzie out in the only way EP’s elite could—politely, sweetly, and by being as cunning as a fox.
“She’s cute,” Savannah said, studying Izzie closely as her brown bob swished back and forth on her walk to the front row. Mira could see Izzie making an effort to introduce herself to the gawky girl next to her. Why was Izzie so willing to do that with a stranger, but not with her?
“She is pretty,” Mira agreed.
Savannah’s head tilted as she examined Izzie further. “Highlights would do wonders for her dull brown hair, don’t you think?” she added. Mira hadn’t noticed, but she nodded. “I think it’s incredible what your parents are doing, Mira.”
“So generous,” Lea agreed, and took a sip from the water bottle on her desk.
“Especially considering where she’s from,” Savannah added, and twirled a piece of blond hair around her finger. “My mom says Harborside is the ghetto of N.C. I hope your mom locked up her jewelry. She has a gorgeous collection.”
Lauren gasped. “I didn’t even think of that. Do you think she would steal it?”
“Well”—Savannah pushed her hair behind her ears—“I’m not accusing her of anything, of course, but it’s practically a given considering where she grew up. She was raised differently than we were. Not that there is anything wrong with that,” Savannah added, looking at Mira.
“I don’t think she’s like that,” Mira said awkwardly. Mira had initially had the same fear herself. Izzie was a little standoffish, but Mira quickly realized she didn’t seem like a common criminal. Did coming from a place like Harborside automatically stamp her as one?
By the time third period ended, Mira was mentally exhausted. All morning, her friends kept Izzie at arm’s length—not that any of them would admit the banishment had to do with her being from Harborside. “I don’t want Mr. Issacs to partner us on the Illiad project,” one of Mira’s friends had said when she switched seats to get away from Izzie during English. “What if she thinks Homer is Homer Simpson?”
Once Izzie set off for fourth period on her own, with barely a thanks to Mira for escorting her around all morning, Mira knew she couldn’t make it another second if she didn’t get rid of the killer headache that had started when she’d arrived in homeroom. Coke might be the only thing that could get rid of it, and there was a Coke vending machine on the ground floor of the arts building. Mira decided to head straight there, whether it made her late for study hall or not. It was practically a nonissue anyway. Ms. Page had been her monitor last year, too, and she barely showed
up long enough to take attendance.
She was so desperate for syrupy sweetness she practically jogged down the hall. Almost tripping over her own feet, Mira grabbed the wall to keep from falling and noticed the watercolor paintings hanging on a string across several bulletin boards. Hers was smack in the middle of the batch. She’d always loved Impressionists—her mother claimed she had to cart her away, kicking and screaming, from Monet’s The Artist’s Garden at Vétheuil at the National Gallery of Art when she was four. Maybe that was why she was always drawn to watercolors and dreamy, pretty pictures of flowers or the sea whenever she was asked to complete an assignment in art class. She thought everyone got As in art, which was why she was so surprised last spring when Mr. Capozo insisted on displaying her watercolor of the boathouse she had painted. Mr. Capozo said Mira had an artist’s eye. Her. A girl who rarely painted anything except her nails.
Forget the Coke. Suddenly Mira wanted that painting back so badly, she was willing to steal it right off the wall. She looked both ways to make sure no one was coming before she unclipped the paper. Then she quickly rolled up the painting and placed it carefully in her bag before hurrying away.
“Nothing like a little petty theft to start the school year off on a high note,” said a deep voice.
Mira spun around, gripping her bag. A cute guy, wearing a messy clear smock, stood in a doorway a few feet away with his arms folded smugly across his chest.
“It’s not stealing if you’re taking what’s already yours.” Mira tried to sound sure of herself even though she was shaking. She pulled the painting out and unrolled it again, pointing at the elegant script of her signature. “That’s my name. I painted this, so technically I should be allowed to take it back.”
His green eyes glinted mischievously as he pushed his sandy blond hair off his forehead. “I’m just messing with you. Those pictures were coming down later today anyway. Let’s see if yours was worth the heist.” Before she could protest, he took the painting from her hands and studied it. She couldn’t help but notice his fingers were covered in dried green paint. “Not bad,” he said, then frowned. “You could have used a little more yellow in that sunset, though.”
Mira snatched the painting back. “No one asked you.”
“Touchy.” He smiled. “You’re good. You’d be better if you took classes. Are you in watercolors or drawing this fall?”
“I can’t waste time on art classes,” Mira said. Who was he to judge her painting?
The boy shrugged. “Your loss. I’ve got to get back to my own work. See ya.” He started walking away, which only made Mira madder.
“And you think your painting is better?” Mira followed him into the classroom, ready to critique. She stopped short when she realized where they were. This was one of the specialty art rooms, where you could take classes like sculpting and drawing. Mira had opted to get public speaking over with instead. A dozen easels were set up alongside one another, and there was a small stage in the front of the room where models probably stood. The boy was already back at his easel with his paintbrush and a small palette of paint in his hand.
“Wow, that’s really good,” Mira admitted, coming closer. His work was much more realistic, with sharp angles and dark colors. It was so clear she would have thought it was a photograph of the dolphin fountain right outside the classroom window. “When did you paint that?”
“Just now.” He grinned. “Okay, more like in third period and now. I have study hall, so I figured I’d come in here and finish it.”
“You can come in here during study hall?” Mira asked curiously.
He nodded. “If you take art classes, yeah. But like you said, you can’t waste time on that sort of stuff.” He smirked. “What grade are you in, anyway?”
“Tenth,” Mira said, sounding standoffish. This guy unnerved her. “You?”
“Eleventh.” He laid a long blue-green brushstroke through the fountain pool he was painting. He looked at Mira and she felt her heart stop just a little. He was really cute. “I’m Kellen Harper. I’d shake your hand, but you can see I’m sort of in the middle of something.”
“Mira,” she said, stopping short of her last name. Once people heard that, they tended to treat her a little bit differently.
“Well, Mira, maybe if you sign yourself up for a real art class sometime, instead of the standard one where you make papier-mâché heads, we can square off for real.” He looked at her seriously. “You’d be pretty good if you worked at it.”
Mira blushed. He really thought her painting was good? It didn’t matter. Only the Goth theater kids took art electives, and she definitely didn’t fit in with that crowd. Kellen didn’t look like he did, either, though. She looked longingly at his easel. “I don’t have the time, but thanks.”
Kellen shrugged. “This is EP. No one has free time. But somehow I manage to mentor for Big Brothers, run cross-country, and do something I really like—paint. Go figure.”
Kellen ran cross-country with Hayden? How come she’d never noticed him before? And he did charity work, too? This guy didn’t seem like some of the other art freaks, but still, she just couldn’t see herself diving into this world. No matter how much she wanted to pick up a paintbrush. She backed out of the room, almost afraid she would be glued to the floor if she didn’t. “Nice meeting you, Kellen.”
“You, too. And Mira? Don’t let me catch you stealing any more paintings,” Kellen teased.
Mira just shook her head, but she couldn’t stop thinking about what Kellen had said. He seemed pretty cool—okay, for the five minutes they were together—and he took art classes. Would it really be so weird if she did as well? She put a dollar in the vending machine and a Diet Coke tumbled out. No one even had to know, she realized. She headed outside and sat down at the fountain Kellen had just painted. She wondered if he could see her sitting there. Savannah came flying into her, sitting so close she was practically on Mira’s lap.
Savannah gasped. “Mira, you look so pale out here! What happened to having a tan—fake or otherwise—for the first day of school?”
Mira’s hand went to her face. “I used self-tanner.” Didn’t she? Did Kellen just see her with a pasty, white face? Why did she care? She had a boyfriend! Savannah’s face, Mira noticed, was the perfect blend of blush and bronzer glow even after several hours in the heat. Mira didn’t know how she did it.
“Oh, you did?” Savannah asked, looking at Mira with a critical eye. “I guess I didn’t notice.” She put a hand on Mira’s shoulder. “You look so white. But it’s no wonder, with everything going on at your house. Are you freaking out?”
“Yeah,” Mira admitted, grateful for the chance to finally unload on someone. “One minute I was with you at the club, and the next Izzie was at my house and I was giving her a tour of her new room. My parents didn’t even know she existed till a few months ago, and now she’s living with us permanently! Apparently we’re her only family.”
“Yeah, that’s what they said on the Today show,” Savannah told her.
“It’s weird having a complete stranger in the house, especially someone our age who I have zero in common with,” Mira complained. “I always have to be ‘on’!”
Savannah nodded appreciatively. “I can’t believe your parents did that to you! They’ve totally bought into that rags-to-riches story Izzie’s peddling.”
“Well, actually, Lucas is the one selling the story,” Mira admitted.
“So? It’s got to be a sham. How could you be her only family? How’d she even find you?” Mira opened her mouth to explain, but Savannah rarely let another person get a word in. “She wants fame! She thinks she’s going to ride your dad’s coattails all the way to D.C. and make everyone at this school feel sorry for her. Well, she’s wrong. The publicity will die down when another sob story hits the news. That’s what happened to Miss Teen USA.” That girl, coincidentally, went to their school, and Savannah hated her, too. “It doesn’t matter how famous she becomes. No one is going to let her
into our crowd, you know.”
“I don’t think Izzie really cares about being popular,” Mira said thoughtfully. “I think she’s sort of quiet, but then sometimes I’ll catch her with Hayden, joking and laughing, and she’s a completely different person.” The whole situation was still confusing almost a week later. “Did you know she’s this incredible swimmer and a lifeguard?”
Savannah’s eyes glinted sharply. “I read that, but it doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t mean our friends are going to trust her.”
What does trust have to do with it? Mira wondered. But she knew better than to question Savannah. Her best friend’s phone started to vibrate.
“It’s my mom. She’s away in Hilton Head. I’ve got to take this. I’ll see you at lunch, okay? Mom, hold on.” Savannah put a thin hand over her phone and looked at Mira. “Do you have to sit with her, or are you sitting with us?”
“Uh…” Mira hadn’t even thought about that. Would Savannah really ban her from the table if she brought Izzie?
“There’s no room for her.” Savannah winced. “I’m sorry.”
“No, I know, but…” Was she supposed to let Izzie eat alone? Even she wasn’t that mean.