“Have you heard from Todd?” she asked with an edge of desperation in her voice, her brown eyes glittering. “Ilona invited him but he didn’t write back or anything.”
Lizzie wanted to ask why Todd had been invited at all, and why Ava even cared, but she just shrugged. “He texted me this afternoon about our project, but I haven’t written him back. Are you feeling better?”
“Oh yeah, totally,” she said, knocking her drink back. “I mean, I wanted him out of my life anyway. So I should be happy, right?”
“Uh, yeah,” Lizzie said, playing with the strand of pearls. She wasn’t quite sure where this conversation was going.
“So… you’re not gonna date him, right?” Ava asked suddenly. “I mean, you can if you want to, but you know he’s bad news, right?” Ava stepped closer, and Lizzie could smell her cloying perfume.
“Wait—why would I date Todd Piedmont?” Lizzie asked.
Ava grabbed her arm and laughed like she’d said the funniest thing in the world. “Oh my God, Lizzie, don’t take it so seriously! I was just kidding! Oh, and do you know if your mom is gonna come up with something for the charity ball? ’Cuz we kind of need those prizes pretty soon.”
For a moment, Lizzie wasn’t sure if she’d heard Ava right. “I really don’t know yet,” she said, seething. So much for hoping that she and Ava could actually turn out to be friends, she thought. Now that she was over her Todd trauma, Ava was back to her old self.
Ava turned away to say something to Cici, and Carina took Lizzie’s arm. “Don’t look now, but Carter McLean is staring at you,” Carina whispered into her ear.
Lizzie glanced across the kitchen at the guys. Even in someone’s apartment, the boys still clung to the opposite side of the room from the girls, and hardly any of them were dressed in real costumes. Sure enough, Carter McLean—the hottest guy in the tenth grade—was across the room with his friends, but he wasn’t looking at Lizzie. Instead his sexy green eyes were trained on Carina.
“Um, he’s looking at you, C,” Lizzie said.
“Really?” Carina asked.
As they looked back at him, Carter smiled broadly, flicked his dark curls out of his eyes, and then turned back to his friends.
“Wow,” Lizzie said. Even she had felt the heat of his look.
“Let’s go out to the living room,” Carina whispered. When they were back in the hallway, Carina leaned in close to her friends, her cheeks flushed. “Was it just me, or was he checking me out?”
“He really was,” Hudson said.
“Yep,” Lizzie agreed.
Carina waggled her eyebrows and grinned. “Well, that’s interesting.”
“I think Ava still likes Todd,” Lizzie told them. “She kept asking me if I thought he was coming to this.”
“Looks like she got her wish,” Hudson said under her breath, nodding toward the living room.
Lizzie looked over. Todd, unbelievably, was here.
He stood by himself in the living room, holding a red plastic cup and looking deeply uncomfortable. Lizzie realized it was because he was the only guy in an actual costume. At least, she hoped it was a costume. He wore a crisp white tuxedo with a natty red pocket square, shiny black shoes, and his hair was slicked back with pomade, like a man from the nineteen twenties. Then she realized who he was. His blue eyes landed on her, and from the way they stayed locked on hers, she knew she had to go over and say hi.
“I’ll be right back, guys,” she said, and made her way toward Todd. Her right leg felt shaky, but she ignored it. She said a quick, fervent prayer that she wouldn’t throw up. And then she was right in front of him.
“Hi, Todd,” she managed to say.
“Hi,” he said quietly, looking over her costume. “Lemme guess. Pearls, headdress. Beauty mark. Daisy Buchanan?”
“And you’re Jay Gatsby.”
“Or just very overdressed for this party,” he said with a shy smile that made her heart seesaw. “So…,” he said, rocking back and forth on his heels, “did you get my text? About the English thing? It’s due Monday, right?”
“I did, but… I won’t be in school that day. I’m kind of working. I have a modeling job.”
He frowned. “Wait. You’re not gonna be in school?” He scratched his head, making a dent in his pomade. “What about me? Am I supposed to just fail it because you’re not gonna be there?”
“You’re the one who hasn’t shown up. You blew me off the other night.” She glanced around the party. Ava was liable to walk in and see them at any moment. “Let’s go in here,” she said, brushing past him through a pair of French doors into the dining room.
He followed her into the dark, quiet room. “I’ve had some stuff going on,” he said in a low voice.
“Uh, yeah, I know,” she said, letting her voice curdle with sarcasm. “I know all about it.”
He cocked his head. In the dim light she could see the confusion in his eyes. “What do you mean?”
“I mean how Ava dumped you. After you cheated on her.”
Todd gave a short, surprised laugh. “Is that what she said?”
“She said you hooked up with some girl at a party. Some girl from Pomfret. And that she dumped you. I’m amazed you even showed up here tonight.”
“And you believe that?” he sputtered.
“It’s bad enough that you play with my head, but to do it with your own girlfriend? What’s your problem?”
“Wait—playing with your head?” he repeated.
“Oh come on,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Flirting with me, telling me secrets, giving me a book that cost tons of money and that I don’t even ask for? While you’re going out with someone else?”
He didn’t say anything. She stepped closer to him, and this time she was too angry to notice his dreamy scent.
“Who does stuff like that? Except a total player?”
Todd flinched.
“All this time, I thought you were a decent guy. The guy I used to know. Obviously, I was wrong.”
She tried to walk past him to leave, but Todd stepped in front of her, blocking the way.
“No, I was wrong,” he said. “I should never have gone out with her, but I did. And when I realized I’d made a mistake, I ended it. I probably should have done it sooner, but I didn’t want to hurt her. I did it the night you and I were supposed to work together. I told her that I wanted to be friends. And she started to cry and wouldn’t let me leave. That’s why I couldn’t come over to your house.” He shook his head. “But no, you believe this crazy story of hers that I cheated on her.” He took a step backward. “Do you really think I would do that, Lizzie?”
Her eyes had gotten used to the darkness now, and she could see the anger and hurt in his face.
“I thought you knew me better than that. I thought you were my friend.” He shook his head. “Whatever. Have fun on Monday. And thanks for the fail.” He turned on his heels and walked out through the French doors, letting them swing open behind him.
Lizzie didn’t move. She stayed in the quiet darkness of the dining room, her hand on Ilona’s dining table to keep her steady. Todd’s disgusted voice rang through her mind like a howling car alarm. She had gotten it all completely wrong. Todd was a decent guy after all. And now he hated her.
Lizzie waited until she was sure Todd wasn’t hovering right outside the French doors, and then made her way back into the party. She found her friends in the corner.
“What happened?” Hudson gasped. “Did you guys just get in a fight? Todd stormed out of the room.”
“I have to go, you guys,” she said quietly. “Now.” Hot tears were dangerously close to filling her eyes.
“No problem,” Carina said. “We’re so out of here.”
They followed Lizzie into the hall, where Ilona and Ava were standing over what looked like a shattered vase. Pieces of white porcelain were strewn across the carpet.
“Someone just slammed the front door so hard this fell down,” Ilona said. “My mom’s g
onna kill me.”
Lizzie instantly knew who it was.
“All I saw was some guy in white,” Ilona said. “In some weird tux.”
“It was Todd,” Lizzie said.
“Todd?” Ava practically shrieked. “Are you sure?” She eyed the front door. “Why’d he leave?”
“And why was he in a white tux?” Ilona asked.
Lizzie averted her eyes. She didn’t have the strength right now to explain. “I have to go, you guys. Sorry. I think I’m a little sick.”
Pretending she didn’t notice Ava and Ilona’s odd stares, Lizzie staggered out the front door, pulling her feathered headband off. Lizzie leaned her head against the frame of the elevator. Her heart still pounded and she felt dizzy.
Hudson patted her back. “Don’t listen to him. He’s a jerk, Lizzie.”
“Lizzie, Todd Piedmont is a waste of your time,” Carina said clearly. “He doesn’t deserve such a fabulous, incredible person. He doesn’t.”
“It needed to end,” Hudson said in a soothing voice. “Let him go.”
Lizzie nodded and swallowed her tears. This was so silly. Her life was going so well. It was ridiculous to let a guy get in the middle of it. She was the luckiest girl on earth, and everything—everything—was going her way. Except the one thing she cared about more than anything else had just slipped through her fingers. And she was fairly sure she’d never get it back.
chapter 26
BEEP BEEP BEEP!
Lizzie’s alarm woke her with a jolt. She sat up in bed and looked at the clock. It was seven fifteen. Which meant that she had an hour to get down to the studio in SoHo for the photo shoot. As she threw off the covers, Mission Muse went into effect.
She showered, dressed in her uniform, packed her bookbag, and even ate a bowl of cereal in front of Irlene, who was engrossed in the Today show. Finally, she breezed through the lobby doors and out onto the street. It was another gray, chilly day. With one quick look over her shoulder at her building, she hurried down Columbus and to the downtown subway station. She’d never cut school before, and now the thrill of it was eerily liberating.
Waiting on the subway platform, she thought of Todd and their fight. She’d spent all of Sunday mulling over what he’d said, and now she felt even worse about believing Ava’s story. But the way his voice had dripped with disdain, the way he’d shaken his head with disgust, the way he’d walked out on her in Ilona’s house… she was only too happy to be skipping English. Of course, Mr. Barlow would be a little bent out of shape, but she could handle that.
“Lizzie! Hello!” cried Martin when she walked in, grasping her hand and kissing both her cheeks. He wore black jeans and a ripped T-shirt with an image of Iggy Pop on the front. “I’m so glad everything worked out. Are we ready to have a good time? And is that your uniform?” He bent down to touch a piece of her skirt. “That plaid is so arcane. I love it. Maybe I’ll use it for the fall collection.”
“Actually, speaking of my school, is Annalise around? I need her to call and tell them I’m sick.”
Martin’s eyes narrowed. For a moment she was afraid he might not approve, and then he broke into a conspiratorial smile. “No worries,” he said, patting her arm. “I’ll take care of it. Just get into hair and makeup. And have fun!”
Lizzie ambled over to the hair and makeup area. The studio was the size of the Chadwick gym, even bigger than the one at Chelsea Piers. A rack of clothes stood about ten feet away, and facing her was the actual set, which was already crowded with lights. The tall, lanky man in a black turtleneck fiddling with his computer, she guessed, was the photographer, Dietrich. She was in no hurry to speak to him.
Later, she was in the makeup chair, her face buried in an issue of Italian Vogue as the hairstylist worked on her curls, when Annalise approached with Martin’s oversized appointment book in her hand.
“So everything’s all set, Lizzie,” she said, her eyes on Martin’s book. “I just called the school and said you weren’t coming in.”
“Great. You said I was sick, right?”
“No. I said you were working. Was I supposed to say you were sick?”
Lizzie’s stomach sank. “Um, that’s okay. As long as you said that you were my mom.”
“Your mom?” Annalise burst out, before clapping her hand over her mouth. “I’m not going to say I’m Katia Summers,” she said, laughing.
This was just getting worse. “Fine,” Lizzie said, with a tight feeling in her chest.
“Anyway, Martin wants to run some dates past you.” Annalise held up the gigantic appointment book and flipped to a page. “The next shoot would be on a Tuesday afternoon next week. And then the following week, there’s a store opening he’d like you to attend. In Macau.”
“Macau? Where’s that?”
Annalise seemed slightly put out. “It’s an island near China. We’d fly you out there, of course. It’s very important. It’s going to be Martin’s new flagship store in the Asian market. I can get in touch with to you about flights—”
“Actually, can I get back to you on that?”
Annalise subtly rolled her eyes. “Of course,” she muttered, flipping the book closed and strutting off, visibly annoyed.
Macau? She had barely ever even heard of the place, and she was supposed to fly halfway around the world to go there? To do what, exactly? And she wondered what she was supposed to do about school next Tuesday. Martin had promised that today would be the only day he couldn’t work around her schedule. And speaking of school, was she already in trouble? She cringed thinking about the word spreading to Mr. Barlow that she was gone and working. She thought of him hunting down Katia, trying to figure out where she was.
Everything’s fine, she told herself. You’ll deal with all this later.
As the makeup artist started sponging her face, she let her eyes close. For a few minutes she fell into a deep, drowsy sleep… until she heard her say, “All done.”
Lizzie opened her eyes. At first, she didn’t recognize herself. Heavy black liner circled her eyes, raccoon-style. Three different shades of purple shadow caked her lids. Deep purple lipstick made her look half-dead. And her hair fell in thick, crimped waves down her shoulders. She was part Goth and part eighties fashion victim. “Are you sure this is what Martin wants?” she asked hesitantly.
The hair and makeup people traded looks. “Yep,” the makeup girl replied.
Lizzie took one more look at herself in the mirror. Her real face was completely hidden. Hadn’t Martin wanted to work with her because of her face? So why had he put this much stuff on it?
She walked over to the dressing area. Christiane stood in front of the same lilac dress that Lizzie had ripped the week before, steaming it with fierce concentration. The other day Christiane had seemed spritely, cute, even enviably cool in her blond pageboy haircut. Now she just seemed cold. She put the steamer down without a smile.
“Okay. We had to re-cut this after we saw that you broke the zipper,” she said bluntly. “Hopefully this one fits. Try it on.” She slid it off the hanger and handed it to Lizzie.
“Here?”
Lizzie looked around. There was no changing room or even a screen in sight. If she got undressed, it would be in full view of Christiane and her unsmiling face.
“Uh-huh.” Christiane stifled a small yawn and then folded her arms. “What’s the problem?”
“Nothing.” Pretending she wasn’t two feet away from another person she barely knew, Lizzie quickly shed her school uniform and pulled the dress over her head. To her relief, the silk moved easily down her arms—until it came to another abrupt stop at her shoulders.
“Oh, not again,” Christiane moaned. “And this was a six.”
Lizzie’s face burned behind the silk. Of course a six didn’t fit. Hadn’t any of these people actually looked at her?
Christiane pulled it off of her. “All right, let’s see what does fit around here,” she sighed.
They went through each garment. One after
another, each piece stopped at her shoulders or her upper thighs, refusing to budge. Each time, Lizzie clenched her jaw. Please let me die right now, she thought. The only piece that fit was the silk jumpsuit.
“Well, I guess it’ll have to do,” Christiane said with another sigh. She zipped Lizzie up the back and gave her a pair of gold stilettos to slip on. By the time she tottered out from behind the rack of clothes, Lizzie was pretty sure that three thousand English presentations with Todd Piedmont would have been more enjoyable than this.
“Oh, we’re in the jumpsuit again,” Martin said, appraising her with a forced smile.
“Nothing else fit,” Christiane reported, coming to stand by his side.
Martin thought long and hard as he stared at her, chin cradled in his fist. “Lizzie, now, I hope this doesn’t offend you, but I have the number of a wonderful nutritionist who’s really helped me. Maybe I can make you an appointment?”
Lizzie glowered at him. “Nutritionist?” she asked.
“We’ll talk about it later,” he said with a what’s-to-be-done sigh, and patted Lizzie on the shoulder. “Dietrich! She’s ready!”
She hobbled toward the photo area. The stilettos were already making her feet ache. She didn’t feel glamorous, and she definitely didn’t feel like herself. And when she saw Dietrich’s angry, pasty-faced scowl as he turned around, she really didn’t want to be here.
Dietrich pointed to the area behind the camera. “Just stand,” he ordered gloomily. “No expression.”
Of course not, Mr. Barrel of Laughs, she thought. If they wanted the Angsty Miserable look, they were all in luck.
Dietrich wiped away a greasy hank of hair and leaned into his camera. “Okay, we start!” he yelled.
She stood perfectly still and scowled into the camera. She missed Andrea. She missed running and jumping and kicking to Kanye West. She missed being outside, in the middle of Central Park or downtown. She missed feeling like she was doing a good job. She missed having fun. Right now she felt like a robot, being remote-controlled by some humorless dictator.
“Turn left!” Dietrich barked.
The Daughters Page 19
