“I just want to say, he’s not worth it, Sutton!” the DJ screams.
And then a tall guy lurches toward me and spins me around. “I’ll totally go out with you,” he mumbles. He grabs me around the waist and dips me to the ground, prompting another round of cheering. Shrieking, actually. And maybe . . . laughter?
I untangle myself from my dance partner, confused. The music rises again. I glance around and see that Laurel is doubled over, laughing so hard her midnight-blue mascara is beginning to run.
“What the hell is going on?” I demand. “What was that all about?”
Laurel wipes her eyes. “You should have seen your face, Sutton. That was amazing.” She cascades into another round of giggles.
“What was amazing?” I demand.
Laurel beckons my friends close. She leans in, straining to be heard over the music. “You’re gonna love this, guys,” she says, more to them than to me. “I told everyone Sutton was stood up at the altar.” She looks at me. “The reason the bouncer let us in was because he felt sorry for you, Sutton!”
“Laurel, that is ingenious!” Madeline says.
“Did you set up that DJ thing, too?” Char asks.
“That’s the best part,” Laurel says excitedly. “He did that all on his own! Poor little Sutton. I guess he thought she needed a good cry!”
Mads and Char giggle, then turn to me. When they see my face—I must not be smiling—both of them wrap their arms around me. “Come on, Sutton. It’s funny!”
“It’s not like you’re really a jilted bride!” Charlotte says.
Not that you know, I think. Jilted bride, no, but jilted secret girlfriend . . . yes. I allow myself a split second to wallow, hating Laurel and Thayer with all my might. Pranks aren’t so funny when you’re the butt of the joke. I can feel everyone in the club staring at me, pitying me. No one thinks I’m fabulous. No one wants me to be a model or an actress. I feel humiliated that I even thought that.
But if I storm off now, they’ll think I’m a baby, that I can’t handle it. So I force the corners of my mouth up in as convincing a smile as I can manage and begin to dance like nothing is bothering me. But everything is bothering me. I feel off my game—with everything. Thayer. My friends. My sister. My control.
And all of a sudden, it feels almost impossible to get it back.
9
TIED UP IN KNOTS
It’s eleven A.M. on Sunday, our last day in Vegas, and my last day to trounce Laurel in the Sudden Death challenge. We’re all standing in the lobby, considering what to do. I’ve already hit a sunrise yoga session, followed by a decadently long shower in our suite’s enormous rain-forest stall. I’m pumped. I’m focused. I’m ready for whatever they’re going to throw at me. After the jilted-bride stunt last night, I’m not going to let Laurel get the best of me again. I’ll do whatever it takes.
I spin on my heel toward the revolving doors and stare out at the street. “What do you guys want to do? I think we should ride the New York-New York Roller Coaster.”
“There’s a roller coaster here?” Laurel asks, wide-eyed.
“Dude, I kind of feel like I already am riding it.” Tucker, Garrett’s friend, groans and clutches his stomach. He, Garrett, and Marcus are all looking green and pasty this morning—they bragged that they’d gotten in at four A.M. from partying.
I put one hand on my hip and wag a finger at Tucker. “If you can’t hold your liquor, then you can’t keep up with us.”
Tucker gives Garrett a pleading look. “Can you reason with her? I can’t do a roller coaster this morning.”
“You boys can roller-coaster all you want,” Madeline jumps in. “But Sutton, Laurel, Char, and I have other plans.”
She says it with such authority that we all stare at her. “And what would those plans be?” I ask.
Madeline flushes and fiddles with the tassel on her purse. “You’ll see.” Mads heads to the revolving doors. “Meet me outside!”
Garrett touches my arm. “I need to take care of some trouble the boys and I got into last night.”
“What did you guys do last night, anyway?” I cock my head at him, imagining a Hangover-style scenario.
“We ended up playing poker out by the pool. We joined a game and this one”—he jerks his thumb toward Tucker, who has now collapsed on the chaise—“put up his father’s watch for collateral after he ran out of cash. We should go hit an ATM and get it back from those guys.”
I twirl my locket between my fingers. “You know you’d have more fun with me.”
He holds my gaze and smiles. “Trust me, I know. But we’ll catch up with you later. How about a one-on-one swim at the pool this afternoon?”
“Deal.”
He gives me a quick kiss on the cheek. There’s a sniff behind me and, out of the corner of my eye, I see Charlotte adjusting her tank top, pretending not to watch.
The boys head off. Now it’s just the four of us again, wandering down the strip, Madeline in the lead.