She picked up a spoon and reminded herself that a few spoonfuls couldn’t hurt. “How did you know? Do I just read vanilla?”
Meg giggled. “Just a guess. Go on, dig in. Have seconds if you want! You look like one of those sticks who could eat anything and never gain a pound.”
Skylar blushed; she felt embarrassed and a little proud. She had tried so hard to lose weight after Lucy . . . well, since the accident. She clutched the spoon tighter and was about take a bite when Meg stuck out her hand.
“Wait! I almost forgot the most important topping!” Meg started rummaging around behind the counter.
“Oh, I don’t need any toppings—I like it plain,” Skylar said. But Meg was already tucking a flower into the side of the bowl. It was shockingly red against the white ice cream. For some reason Skylar found herself thinking of a nosebleed, the way a tissue looked when soaked with spots of blood.
“There. Perfect!” Meg stood back, admiring the bowl. Skylar smiled too, and finally took a bite.
“It’s delicious,” she said, letting a spoonful melt on her tongue. “Thank you.” For the first time all day she felt her shoulders relax a little.
“I’m a Rocky Road girl myself,” Meg said, running a hand through her hair.
“So, where do you go to school?” Skylar asked.
Meg’s cornflower eyes met Skylar’s. “I’m taking some time off,” she said with a crooked smile, not offering anything else. Skylar anxiously wondered whether she’d overstepped some invisible line. Maybe Meg couldn’t afford college and that’s why she had the ice cream job.
“I like your hair,” Skylar said to change the subject, and took another bite. The ice cream in her mouth, its texture and coolness, calmed her down.
“Oh, thanks! I kept it really short for a while, but I decided to grow it out last month.” Meg waved a hand vaguely. “I change my look a lot. Luckily, my hair grows insanely fast.”
Skylar pulled a handful of hair over her shoulder and examined it for split ends. “My hair is just so plain. Like my ice cream preferences, I guess. I’m thinking about changing mine too.”
“Like how?” Meg asked.
“I don’t know, like dye it even lighter, maybe? Or try bangs?” Skylar pulled her hair from the pins so that she and Meg could see it better. It felt nice to be chatting about hair with someone who wasn’t just telling her to spray the back of an updo with extra-strength hair spray.
“Bangs could be cool,” Meg said, pursing her lips like she was really thinking about it. “It’s so weird how even the smallest change can really make a difference, isn’t it?”
The prospect of changing her look made Skylar’s heart thump in her chest. “Yeah. Like getting bangs could be a total makeover.”
“Well, a total makeover would be a little more intense than a haircut,” Meg said with a gently prodding smile. “What else would you do? What else would you change?”
Everything, Skylar thought. She thought about Gabby—how friendly she was, how popular she seemed to be, how effortlessly she’d beckoned to Pierce. Her tiny frame and her bouncy blond hair. It was impossible not to be reminded of Lucy: the unforced social ease, the cute laugh, and the smile that made people feel warm from the inside out, like hot chocolate or a good night’s sleep. The way Pierce had simply jumped when Gabby called . . .
Skylar felt a familiar pang, one that spasmed just below her stomach.
“It’s just . . . have you ever noticed how it’s so easy for some people?” She pushed away the ice cream bowl and practically forgot that she was speaking out loud. “Sometimes I feel like I’d do anything to be one of them.” She pulled the red flower from the bowl, wiped the dripping ice cream off it, and twirled the stem in her hands.
She was so lost in her own thoughts that it was a bit of a surprise when Meg responded warmly, “Anything, huh?” Then Meg grinned, her teeth glinting in the fluorescent lights. “I couldn’t agree more.”
ACT TWO
VANITY, OR THE FAIREST OF THEM ALL
CHAPTER FIVE
“We’ll spend this class period in the library,” said Mrs. Haynes, the substitute who was filling in for the mysteriously absent Mr. Landon, “but you’ll need to do independent research on your own time as well.”
The assignment of the research project was the single piece of good news Em had gotten that week. Maybe now she wouldn’t fail out of school. Em had been unable to focus on schoolwork for the past few weeks, but now she perked up.
“You have until Friday to come up with a research proposal,” Mrs. Haynes continued. But as soon as everyone dispersed into the stacks and to the bay of computers to search for topics, Em approached her with purpose.
“I know what I want to write about,” Em said firmly.
“Already?” Mrs. Haynes pushed her glasses up her nose.
“Yes.” Em nodded. “Greek drama. And myth.”