Envy (Fury) (14 page)

“Mom, I don’t really have time for . . . for a full conversation right now,” she said, employing the so-called neutral tone that she’d read about in online forums about alcoholism. “I hope you’re having a happy birthday, and—”

“Don’t you patronize me, Dumpling,” her mom said. “Remember who you’re speaking to.” She coughed, and suddenly her tone was sweet. “Anyway. I want to talk about what it’s going to be like when I get out of here. What we’re going to do.”

What
they
were going to do? The words sat like curdled milk on Skylar’s tongue.
They
weren’t going to do anything.
Skylar
was alone. A team of one. And just as she was thinking of how to say that without hurting her mom’s feelings more than she had to, the doorbell rang.

Shit.

“Mom, actually, I gotta go,” she said into the phone.

As quickly as it had appeared, her mom’s amiability melted away. The harsh tone returned. “Getting rid of me, huh?”

“It’s not like that, Mom,” Skylar said, feeling a familiar frenetic energy racing through her body. This call had to end.
I have to go. I have to go. I have to go.
The thought pulsed through her veins. “I just—I have a friend coming over. She’s here now. I didn’t . . . I didn’t know you were going to call. . . .”

“I’ll get it,” Nora mouthed, stepping into the doorway.
Nora’s face was etched with worry. Clearly, she’d gathered that this was not the smoothest mother-daughter reunion.

Skylar leaped out of her chair, hoping to simultaneously placate her mother and intercept Nora. Maybe she could get Meg upstairs before Nora started talking. Supposedly, her aunt was heading out for the evening, to a “breath workshop” in Portland. Skylar had been hoping she’d be gone by the time Meg arrived. “Okay, Mom?” she pleaded into the phone while she trailed Nora to the front door. “Please tell me it’s okay. I don’t want to get off the phone like this.”

“Well, at least you had a few minutes for me,” Valerie said in a wounded tone. And then, without giving Skylar a chance to respond, she hung up.

Skylar stood there for a moment, shell-shocked, listening to the dial tone.

It was then that Nora swung open her heavy front door and came face-to-face with Meg, whose eyes were glittering gray in the moonlight.

“I’ve been waiting
so long
to meet you, Mrs. McVoy,” Meg said.

Nora began to respond in kind. “I finally get to meet the elusive Meg—” And then she stopped talking abruptly, her eyes falling over Meg’s flowing hair, red choker, and silver shirt. The hand that was holding her mug of tea shook violently, splashing scalding water on Nora’s wrist before she dropped the cup altogether. Nora let out a yelp.

“Aunt Nora!” Skylar rushed over. “Are you okay? Did you burn yourself?”

Nora didn’t answer; she kept her eyes locked on Meg.

Meg took another step into the house, an expression of concern on her face. “Are you all right, Mrs. McVoy?”

“I’m—I’m fine,” Nora said shakily, backing away from Meg. A nervous giggle emerged from her pinched mouth.

“Are you sure?” Meg dug in her purse. “I think I have some kind of salve in here. . . . I had a little bit of an accident myself a while back.” She trailed off, dumping the contents of her bag onto the floor of the entryway.

Skylar approached her aunt and took her hand. There was a sharp red welt on her wrist. “Oh my gosh. It’s all red!”

Nora pulled her hand away quickly and started gathering her things from the hooks on the wall. “I’ll be fine,” she said, hastily putting on her overcoat. “No worse than a cat scratch.” And with that, she was out the front door and into the night. “I’ll be back later this evening,” she called over her shoulder.

As they watched her go, Skylar gave Meg an exaggerated shoulder shrug.

“I have no idea what that was about,” she whispered. “She can be weird sometimes.”

Then her gaze fell on the shards of china and the pool of cooling tea. It was unlike Nora to leave a mess. It was like she couldn’t get away fast enough.

•  •  •

Upstairs, Meg sat in the high-backed chair in the corner of Skylar’s sunny tower room, while Skylar sprawled on the quilted bedspread, trying to push her mom’s injured voice out of her mind.

“I’m sorry my aunt is such a basket case,” Skylar said, rolling her eyes. “Between her and my mom . . .” Meg was one of the only people who knew that Skylar’s mom was, in fact, in jail—not sick.

“No,
I’m
sorry,” Meg responded, all wide-eyed. “It’s not because I came over, is it?” She tucked her legs beneath her on the chair. For the first time ever Meg looked slightly off her game.

“No, no,” Skylar reassured her quickly, even though Aunt Nora had obviously been freaked out by Meg for some reason. “She’s just bizarre. Don’t worry about it. Trust me, it’s the
least
of my problems.”

She told Meg everything about the pajama party, right down to her total humiliation about Gabby and Pierce.

“Don’t read too much into it,” Meg said. Skylar knew this meant she was scheming up some idea.

“How can I not?” Skylar rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling. “The message is obvious—Pierce likes Gabby. I have no chance. It’s so unfair.”

“But that’s exactly it,” Meg said calmly. “You have to even the playing field.”

There was a silence between them; Skylar flopped back onto her stomach so she could look at Meg.

“Pierce doesn’t like
Gabby
,” Meg continued. “He likes what she
is
. What she
represents
. Think about it—he’s a sophomore and about to be the new football star of Ascension. He probably feels like he’s in over his head. He thinks he needs to follow a ‘formula’”—Meg used finger quotes—“to live up to what people expect from him. It’s almost like your mom and the care package.” She pointed to the butterfly card and scented soap on the desk that Skylar had been planning to send to her mom. “She cares more about what people think of her than what she actually feels.”

Skylar nodded, swallowing the lump that always appeared in her throat when she was reminded of her mother. What Meg was saying made perfect sense. She knew about the pressure of expectations. Skylar couldn’t help but wonder, briefly, how Meg knew so much about people. It was like she’d lived hundreds of years and had seen it all.

“You are totally as pretty and smart and savvy as Gabby,” Meg added. “It’s just a question of getting Pierce to see that.”

“At least I played it cool at school this week,” Skylar admitted, hopping off the bed to gather up the things for her mother, and placing them in a bag under her desk for now. “Pierce smiled at me during geometry today. So I don’t think he’s, like, dwelling on it. Do you think I’m making progress?”

“Of course you are!” Meg rattled off a list, keeping track on her long, delicate fingers. “You’re already friends with Gabby, so you’re learning from the best. You’re on the dance committee. You’re one hang-out away from making Pierce like you. You’re having your own party this weekend. You look great—your hair is so cute. You just have to keep going. Push it further.”

As Meg spoke, Skylar’s thoughts gained force, like a few flakes of snow whirling into a blizzard. Meg was right. Everything was going so well—she was on her way to living the life she wanted to lead. She wouldn’t let one minor setback ruin her plans. Her party would be a social success. Her contributions to the dance committee would be brilliant.

It was simple: She would beat Gabby at her own game. And while she felt a pang of guilt, plotting against the person who had been so nice to her, she was sick of trailing behind. When she was around Gabby, she felt too much like the ugly, pudgy little sister again.

Anyway, wasn’t it said that imitation is a form of flattery? It’s not like people would stop paying attention to Gabby. It was harmless. Skylar would innocently spread the wealth. No one would get hurt.

Not like last time.

“Let’s go shopping this week,” Meg said with a wink. “You need something really special to wear to your party. Something killer.”

•  •  •

As Marty Dove had predicted, the weather warmed up significantly in the days leading up to Skylar’s party. Ascension teachers were unable to tamp down the burbling excitement that swept through the school, as it did whenever the brutal winter gave them a slight reprieve. The hardened crust of snow that had coated the ground for months had melted, leaving behind puddles of mud.

As soon as the final bell rang on Thursday afternoon, Skylar ran to the parking lot to find Meg. She was waiting in her maroon Lincoln with two other girls, whom she gleefully introduced as her cousins, Ty and Ali. All three of the girls were wearing sundresses and sunglasses, as though they were ready for a day at the beach.

Skylar raised her eyebrows and giggled as she waved to them. “Hey, ladies, I know it’s sunny, but it’s not officially summer quite yet.”

“We run hot in our family,” Ali said. “Come on!”

Skylar hopped into the backseat with Ali, the bottle-blonde, whose piercing blue eyes and full lips reminded Skylar of Scarlett Johansson.

“This is going to be superfun,” Meg said, pulling out of the Ascension High lot with the windows down. “I love shopping trips! We’re going to find you something amazing. I might get something new too.”

“Where are we going?” Skylar asked meekly, pushing up her shirtsleeves. Ali was right. It was hot in this car. She hoped they would say Forever 21 or some bargain store. She didn’t have much spending money, even after the pawning incident.

“There’s really only one option at the mall,” Ty said with authority. “If you want to really look special, I mean. We’ve got to go to Euphoria Boutique.”

Skylar felt a flicker of anxiety. That place was
way
out of her price range. Didn’t Meg know that? She’d never thought of Meg as having a lot of money. She worked at an ice cream shop, after all. But Meg just smiled at Ty’s suggestion.

“Oh, well . . .” Skylar racked her brain for an excuse. “I was thinking more along the lines of, like, H&M? Because I kinda blew a lot of cash on the drinks and everything.”

“Well, you’ll just have to splurge a little more,” Ty said, looking over her shoulder into the backseat, flipping a lock of flaming-red hair off her temple. Skylar was struck by how white her teeth were. Like Chiclets. “You deserve to have something nice for tomorrow night.”

•  •  •

At the mall they dragged her immediately to Euphoria. It was an expensive store, full of beautiful, well-made staples and statement pieces. The stuff Gabby wore. The things Lucy would have liked.

Meg saw the doubt in Skylar’s eyes. “Just pick out what you
like,” she said, that familiar twinkle in her gray eyes. “There’s no harm in trying things on.”

“It’s fun to play dress up!” Ali added, before scampering off to a rack of short leather skirts. “Do you think I should wear this tonight?” she called across the store, holding up a red suede miniskirt. Ty and Meg laughed and hooted.

Skylar tried to loosen up. She grabbed a bright green tunic, held it to her torso, and put a suede fedora on her head. The other girls were parading around in cropped blazers, a denim jumper, a pair of tight black pants with zippers at the ankles. They practiced their model pouts. And then, way in the back of the store, Skylar found a beautiful sweaterdress—navy blue, short, with detailing around the boatneck. The dress was cashmere and impossibly soft. There was a tiny pearl button at the nape of the neck. And it fit like a glove.

“Oooooooh, look at that!” Meg came running over. “It’s perfect for you!”

Skylar blushed, but she walked over to the mirror anyway. Meg was right. It looked great—perfectly proportioned for her small frame, and making her boobs look a little bigger than usual. It was remarkably similar to something she’d seen Gabby wearing last week. Only this one was a teeny bit nicer.

Ty and Ali crowded around.

“It’s made for you!” Ty said, motioning for Skylar to spin.

“Imagine that with tights and boots. Perfect for a bonfire
party,” Ali chimed in. Yes. Skylar saw herself in the dress, flirting with Pierce by the fire. It was so warm that she probably wouldn’t even need a jacket. Perfect.

But then, even as the fantasy danced in her mind, she snuck a peek at the price tag. As she’d expected: way too high. “No can do,” she said with a sad smile. She started peeling off the dress.

“That doesn’t seem
fair
,” Meg said. “That dress should belong to you.”

Skylar walked back through the store to return the dress to its rack—but her heart practically broke as she held it up one last time. Why should she put this back? Gabby wouldn’t have to. Lucy wouldn’t have had to; she would have found some way to get it. She would have found someone to buy it for her, or she simply would have taken it.

Skylar’s mouth went dry.

She thought, suddenly, of the time Lucy had caught Skylar trying on one of Lucy’s pageant dresses. “Is this mine?” Lucy had asked, fingering the strap. Skylar had pulled away quickly, and in the process, the strap had snapped. In a second Lucy’s face had morphed from shock to outrage. “You ruin everything,” she’d said, throwing her arms in the air. “
God.
How the hell did I end up with you as a sister?”

“I didn’t ask to be part of this family!” Skylar had screamed back at her. When her mom had come running to see what the fuss was about, she’d grounded Skylar for touching something
that wasn’t hers, and Lucy had gotten a brand-new gown. The memory still made Skylar furious.

Meg’s words echoed in her mind:
That doesn’t seem fair. That dress should belong to you.

Nothing was ever fair.

Taking a deep breath, she turned to head back over to the girls, who were standing near a rack of accessories. As she did a red box on the wall caught her eye. The store’s fire alarm. She straightened her shoulders and walked like she was on a runway. And without another thought, she bashed her shoulder against the box as she passed it, then sailed quickly by.

BEEP-BEEP-BEEP.
The sound was practically deafening, and it caused chaos in the store. Shoppers clamped their hands over their ears; employees scampered around from behind the registers, calling confusing instructions to one another.