The girls raised their eyebrows. Another one asked, “Oh, is that where you’re from—down South? I heard that you just moved here, but I didn’t know where from.”
“Yeah, Alabama,” Skylar said. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Sean and Andy walk by . . . which meant that Pierce was probably nearby too. She hoped he saw her chatting it up with these girls. “So, do you want to buy some tickets—I mean, tattoos?” She pulled a strip from the front pocket of her bag.
Jess nodded, digging in her jeans pocket. “We’re thinking of pregaming with some of the football and lacrosse guys before the dance on Saturday. Want to come?”
“Like, with Sean and Andy?” She tried to sound as though she hung out with them all the time.
“Yeah, all those guys,” another girl said, shelling out her money.
“Maybe,” Skylar said. You have to seem in demand. That’s what magazine articles always said about seeming popular and wanted. “I might have plans with Gabby and the girls. I’ll let you know, okay?”
And then the cherry on top of everything: As she walked away from Jess and her friends Pierce appeared around the corner.
“Hey, Sky,” he said with an easy smile. “I’ve been looking for you.”
The feeling of elation made it difficult to breathe. “Really? Well, here I am!” She was going to be late for her next class, but she really didn’t care.
“I wanted to talk to you about the dance,” Pierce said, and she could swear that he looked nervous. “But I’ve gotta run—I have an English quiz.”
Pierce wanted to talk to her about the dance?! Skylar could have cartwheeled down the hall. Instead, she waved him off with a giggle. “Catch me at lunch,” she said, as though she wouldn’t have skipped the entire rest of the school day to hang out with him. “I don’t want to get you in trouble.” As soon as he was out of sight, Skylar did a tiny dance of joy.
? ? ?
Halfway into fifth-period lunch she did a mental tally. She’d already sold forty-five tickets today.
“Two tickets?” She smiled, syrupy-sweet, at the boy in front of her—cute, but a bit emo-looking, in a plaid blazer over a vintage T-shirt and jeans. He wore thick-framed glasses, like Fiona. She thought he might be a junior.
“Yeah, two please,” the boy said, holding out ten dollars. Skylar ripped off two temporary tattoos and placed his cash in the metal box she’d been given by the front office.
Then, in a fake-stern voice, she issued a reminder: “Don’t put them on until the night of. . . . We don’t want their invisible powers to rub off!” She looked up at him. “Would you like to buy a raffle ticket for an additional five dollars? Proceeds go to the Ascension High Suicide Prevention Group.”
“Shutting down the whole damn school would probably be more effective than starting a club, but sure, I’ll buy one,” he muttered, putting his books on the cafeteria table so he could get more money from his wallet.
“Great, thanks!” Skylar said, not really knowing if he was making fun of her or not. “What name should I put down?”
“I’m JD,” the boy said, running a hand through his messy hair. “JD Fount.”
As she racked her brain to think where she’d heard that name before, she caught a glimpse of Gabby’s bouncing curls out the window that overlooked the parking lot, and a prick of anxiety pierced her bubble of confidence. She hadn’t had the chance to run the raffle idea by her. Which she should have, of course, since Gabby was technically in charge of the dance. . . .
As Gabby and her companion came into clearer view, Skylar’s heart sank even lower. Gabby was walking with Pierce. They both held waxy paper bags from Dunkin’ Donuts, and their strides were in step. Now Skylar’s bubble deflated entirely. A little off-campus coffee date. During the lunch period when Pierce was supposed to find her, to talk to her about the dance. She watched them circumvent the entrance to the cafeteria, presumably heading straight for their sixth-period classes. She swallowed hard; her mouth felt dry. She only sold two more tickets for the rest of lunch.
? ? ?
As soon as the last bell rang, Skylar headed for the ice cream shop. The hollow feeling in her stomach hadn’t dissipated after lunch. With the image of Gabby and Pierce coming back from their lunchtime romp pounding in her mind, she’d skipped sixth period to find Meg, but when she’d arrived at Get the Scoop, she’d found the place bolted shut and dark inside. She’d pressed her face to the glass. All of the tables and chairs were stacked in a corner, almost as if it was closed for the season.
She texted Meg: Why aren’t you at work? I need to talk to you.
I’ll be there after school, Meg wrote back almost immediately. See you soon.
And she was. As soon as Skylar walked in the doors and saw Meg presiding cheerfully over the empty store, Skylar wanted to cry. Thankfully, she held it together.
“Hey, girl, what’s the matter?” Meg leaped off her wobbly stool and glided over to where Skylar was standing, blinking fast.