Lexi drew in a deep breath and did as she was told. In front of her was a big mirror surrounded by tiny globe lights. For a split second, she saw a stranger—a girl with sleek, glossy black hair, layered now around her face, and perfectly arched eyebrows. Carefully applied violet eyeliner had enhanced her blue eyes, given her a smoky, sophisticated look, and blush highlighted her high cheekbones. She was almost afraid to smile, in case it was an illusion.
Jude leaned closer. “You’re beautiful.”
Lexi slipped out of the chair and turned around. “Thank you,” she said, hugging Jude tightly.
Later, on the ferry home, she and Mia sat in the backseat of the Escalade, with Jude in the driver’s seat. Lexi kept sneaking looks at herself in the mirror. She wanted to believe it would make a difference somehow, this transformation, that Zach would finally look at her and think she was pretty. But she knew better.
Tonight was not going to go well. Honestly, she couldn’t fathom why he’d agreed to take her to the dance—probably because Jude and Mia had pressured him mercilessly, and one thing was always true: Zach hated to disappoint his sister.
If only Lexi hadn’t almost kissed him. None of this would be a problem if she’d never turned to him that night. Or if she’d told Mia the truth. If only … if only. It was a list that went on and on, and she’d reread it so many times in her mind that she felt sick to her stomach.
It had been a week since the party—since the hilltop. Lexi had repeatedly intended to tell Mia the truth, but she hadn’t. She couldn’t, and now, for the first time, when she saw her best friend, Lexi felt like a liar. And every time she saw Zach, she ran like a track star. She was terrified that she’d ruined everything, that when her secret came out, she’d lose Mia’s friendship and Jude’s respect. Everything that mattered to her.
“I should have said no,” Lexi muttered later, as she and Mia bounded up the stairs at the Farraday house to get dressed. “This has disaster written all over it.”
“I don’t get you,” Mia said, closing the door behind them. “I really don’t.”
Lexi immediately felt guilty. “Sorry. It’ll be fun. I can’t wait.” She went to Mia’s overflowing closet, where both dresses hung between sheets of plastic. They dressed and studied themselves in the oval mirror by the desk. Only occasionally could Mia’s black-and-white Converse high-tops be seen under her hemline.
“I think I look okay,” Mia said, turning to Lexi. Her green eyes held worry. “Don’t I? Will he think so?”
“You look gorgeous. Tyler will—”
A knock at the door interrupted them. There was a pause, then it opened. Jude stood there, holding a silver camera. “Tyler is here.”
Mia looked nervously at Lexi. “How do I look?”
“Totally hot. He’s lucky to have you.”
Mia threw her arms around Lexi and hugged her tightly. “Thank God you’re with me. I don’t know if I’d have the guts to go downstairs without you.”
Holding hands, they left the bedroom and walked down the big curving staircase.
Zach and Tyler were in the living room, standing together, talking. Both were wearing blue suits. Zach’s hair was still wet—the football game had just ended and he’d raced home to get ready.
He looked up and saw Lexi. She saw the way he frowned as she came down the stairs. Her heart started beating so fast she felt light-headed.
Be cool, she thought.
She’d say she was sorry right away, laugh it off, that stupid near-kiss. Maybe she’d say she’d been drunk and didn’t remember any of it. Could she pull that off?
As she neared him, Zach stepped forward, offering her a blue-tipped white carnation in a clear plastic box. “Thanks,” she mumbled.
“It’s got, like, a rubber band on it; it goes on your wrist,” he said. “Amanda says they’re the best kind.”
“Thanks,” she said again, not daring to look at him. He’d mentioned his girlfriend; she got the point.
“Okay, picture time,” Jude said. Miles came up beside her. “We’ll need fingerprints from you, Tyler,” he said.
“Dad!” Mia shrieked, blushing.
Lexi moved awkwardly into place beside Zach. He put an arm around her, but didn’t pull her close. They stood like images from an Old West photograph, stiff and unsmiling.
Flash. Click.