Alex swiped his thumb on the icing and brought his hand toward Ava’s face. “Yummy . . .”
Ava drew back. “Get that away!” But then she giggled. Alex had moved here in ninth grade. He wasn’t as popular or as rich as some of the other guys, but he always made her laugh. But then the sight of someone in the doorway wiped the smile off her face. Nolan Hotchkiss, the party’s host, stared at her with an almost territorial grin.
He deserves what he’s going to get, she thought darkly.
In the backyard—which had high, swooping arcades that connected one patio to another; huge potted plants; and a long slate walkway that practically ended in the water—Mackenzie Wright rolled up her jeans, removed her toe rings, and plunked her feet into the infinity-edge pool. A lot of people were swimming, including her best friend, Claire Coldwell, and Claire’s boyfriend, Blake Strustek.
Blake spun Claire around and laced his fingers through hers. “Hey, watch the digits,” Claire warned. “They’re my ticket to Juilliard.”
Blake glanced at Mac and rolled his eyes. Mac looked away, almost as if she didn’t like Blake at all.
Or perhaps because she liked him too much.
Then the patio door opened, and Nolan Hotchkiss, the man of the hour, sauntered onto the lawn with a smug, I’m-the-lord-of-this-party look on his face. He strolled to two boys and bumped fists. After a beat, they glanced Mac’s way and started whispering.
Mac sucked in her stomach, feeling their gazes canvass her snub nose, her glasses with their dark hipster frames, and her large, chunky knit scarf. She knew what they were talking about. Her hatred for Nolan flared up all over again.
Beep.
Her phone, which sat next to her on the tiled ground, lit up. Mac glanced at the text from her new friend Caitlin Martell-Lewis.
It’s time.
Julie and Ava received the same missives. Like robots, they all stood, excused themselves, and walked to the rendezvous point. Empty cups lay on the ground in the hall. There was a cupcake smashed on the kitchen wall, and the den smelled distinctly of pot. The girls convened by the stairs and exchanged long, nervous glances.
Caitlin cleared her throat. “So.”
Ava pursed her full lips and glanced at her reflection in the enormous mirror. Caitlin rolled back her shoulders and felt for something in her purse. It rattled slightly. Mac checked her own bag to make sure the camera she’d swiped from her mom’s desk was still inside.
Then Julie’s gaze fixed on a figure hovering in the doorway. It was Parker Duvall, her best friend in the world. She’d come, just as Julie hoped she would. As usual, Parker wore a short denim skirt, black lace tights, and an oversize black sweatshirt. When she saw Julie, she poked her face out from the hood, a wide grin spreading across her cheeks and illuminating her scars. Julie tried not to gasp, but it was so rare that Parker allowed anyone to see her face. Parker rushed up to the girls, pulling the hoodie around her face once more.
All five of them glanced around to see if anyone was watching. “I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Mackenzie admitted.
Caitlin’s eyebrows made a V. “You’re not backing out, are you?”
Mac shook her head quickly. “Of course not.”
“Good.” Caitlin glanced at the others. “Are we all still in?”
Parker nodded. After a moment, Julie said yes, too. And Ava, who was touching up her lip gloss, gave a single, decisive nod.
Their gazes turned to Nolan as he wove through the living room. He greeted kids heartily. Slapped friends on the back. Shot a winning smile to a girl who looked like a freshman, and the girl’s eyes widened with shock. Whispered something to a different girl, and her face fell just as quickly.
That was the kind of power Nolan Hotchkiss had over people. He was the most popular guy at school—handsome, athletic, charming, the head of every committee and club he joined. His family was the wealthiest, too—you couldn’t go a mile without seeing the name Hotchkiss on one of the new developments popping up or turn a page in the newspaper without seeing Nolan’s state senator mother cutting a ribbon at a new bakery, day care facility, community park, or library. More than that, there was something about him that basically . . . hypnotized you. One look, one suggestion, one command, one snarky remark, one blow-off, one public embarrassment, and you were under his thumb for life. Nolan controlled Beacon, whether you liked it or not. But what’s that saying? “Absolute power corrupts absolutely.” And for all the people who worshipped Nolan, there were those who couldn’t stand him, too. Who wanted him . . . gone, in fact.