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Belles

Page 17

by Jen Calonita


  “Is it too late to join?” Izzie asked tentatively.

  “Of course not!” Mrs. Fitzgerald said, practically yanking Izzie in by the arm. “I’m Mrs. Fitzgerald, or you can call me Mrs. Fitz. There is only one requirement for this club,” she said, her voice adopting a serious tone. “We need to know why you think you are right for a butterfly transformation.”

  The only thing annoying about this group Mira adored so much was Mrs. Fitz’s need to turn the club’s name into something more meaningful. She was constantly talking about the girls’ metamorphoses and how they related to the good the girls did in the club. When it came to anything Butterfly-related, Mrs. Fitz took matters seriously. Even a discussion on what color paper club flyers should be printed on turned into a cause for reflection and celebration.

  “Um, I’m not sure I get what you mean.” Izzie leaped to the safety of Violet and Nicole, who were sitting near the front.

  “What. Is. She. Doing. Here?” Savannah hissed, practically spitting in Mira’s right ear.

  “I don’t know,” Mira admitted. Was Izzie trying to fit in after all? Ever since Izzie talked about her mom the other night, Mira couldn’t stop thinking about what it was like to be Izzie. It was the first time she had put herself in her cousin’s shoes since Izzie had arrived and it had been an eye-opener. Mira was starting to realize how hard it had to be leaving behind everything Izzie knew and starting over in a place where she didn’t know a soul. No wonder Izzie sometimes came across as standoffish. It made Mira feel guiltier than ever for the things she had said that night to Hayden and her mom.

  “We’d love to know what would make you a good Butterfly,” Mrs. Fitzgerald tried to explain again, and flapped her arms for effect. “Our group is all about metamorphoses.”

  There was that word again.

  “And we like members who want to help save the world, one day at a time.”

  Club motto.

  “We’ve been doing that since 1944, the first year girls were allowed to matriculate at Emerald Prep,” Mrs. Fitz added, tapping the insignia of the club that was stickered on her folder. “Isabelle, have you done anything that would qualify as Butterfly behavior?”

  Savannah leaned over to Lea and Lauren. “Does being on the receiving end of club donations count?” The girls snickered.

  “Well, I…” Izzie looked at Nicole and Violet, who nodded encouragingly. “I taught free swim lessons at our community center.”

  Mrs. Fitz clapped excitedly. “That’s perfect! You are definitely Butterfly material.”

  Savannah, smelling like the honeysuckle perfume she had spritzed on during an after-school touch-up, leaned over to Mira. “This makes zero sense. Why would Izzie want to be a Butterfly? Unless she’s trying to find a way to get back at us for Tryout Day.”

  “Maybe she likes the club.” Mira shifted uncomfortably.

  Savannah’s eyes narrowed. “No, that’s not it. She’s up to something, and I’m going to find out what it is.”

  “Before you arrived, Isabelle, we were discussing what to do with our ‘fun’ money from last year,” Mrs. Fitz told her. “We can’t decide between a yoga class or a frozen yogurt machine, and the vote is tied.” She looked hopeful. “Maybe you could be our tiebreaker.”

  Lauren groaned. “What does she know?” she whispered to Mira. “She’s probably never had the money for either.”

  “I don’t know if anyone here really wants my opinion,” Izzie said, turning her head slightly toward the sound of Savannah’s giggling.

  “Of course we do,” Violet told her.

  “Okay, well, to be honest, I wouldn’t do either,” Izzie said. “If the Butterflies really are a charity club, then why not give the extra money to another charity? Or buy a frozen yogurt machine for a school that doesn’t have a lunch program?”

  Savannah applauded Izzie mockingly. “Mrs. Fitz, I think you’ve found the Butterflies’ new spokesperson!” The sarcasm was lost on Mrs. Fitz, who beamed proudly.

  “You’re right, Savannah. This is the type of Butterfly leadership I’m talking about, ladies,” Mrs. Fitz said. “It’s settled, then. We’ll buy a machine for another school.” Lauren moaned. She kind of had her heart set on that hot yoga class. Mrs. Fitz looked at Savannah and Mira. “Let’s move on to our next topic. New club presidents, do you want to fill Isabelle in on this year’s first fall event?”

  Mira tucked her hair behind her right ear and looked down at her notes. “We’ve reserved the Monica Holbrook Arts Center on Saturday, October eighteenth, for our event. That gives us a three-week lead on the Emerald Cove Country Club’s Founders Day party.”

  “EP’s football game is during the week, so we pretty much have a lock on the weekend,” Savannah added, reading from her own notebook. “Not that we’d have competition anyway. Everyone would rather come to a Butterflies event. We just need a killer idea for a party that will blow the town away.” Mira and Savannah had spent weeks trying to imagine the perfect fall mixer, but Savannah’s head was so wrapped up in her own sweet-sixteen planning that all she could think about were fire jugglers and henna tattoos (Savannah’s sixteenth was going to have an Arabian nights theme).

  “It can be difficult,” Mrs. Fitz said, nodding. “We’ve had such winners in the past. Any suggestions?” She smiled at Mira. “We need something worthy for our esteemed senator. He already cleared his calendar to join us and, word has it, might say a few words about his upcoming run.”

  Nicole shot her pale hand into the air. She was the tallest girl there, so her hand was the highest. “What about a variety show?”

  “I don’t think we have enough time to get one together,” Mrs. Fitz said sadly, pursing her pink lips. “Maybe in the spring. I’m already working on a lovely twenty-minute piano piece.”

  Think of a great excuse not to have Mrs. F. do a piano solo, Mira jotted down in her notebook.

  “Plus, we’ve done variety shows, like, six times already,” Savannah said, sounding bored. “No one wants to hear someone sing ‘Defying Gravity’ off-key again, Nicole. Mira and I want our first event as copresidents to be different. Come on, girls. We need new ideas!”

  “Game night?” suggested Lauren.

  “Country club is already doing one,” Savannah said as if it were obvious.

  “We could do different games,” Lauren huffed, “like Old Maid, Go Fish…”

  “We need an idea that appeals to people over five,” Savannah spoke over her.

  “What’s your idea, Savannah?” Violet asked sweetly, playing with her dark brown hair.

  Savannah gave her a look. “I’ve come up with our last four events, including the spring arts and crafts fair, and our carnival games day, which raised over five thousand dollars to help reopen a girls’ school in New Orleans that had been closed since Katrina.”

  “Most of the profits came from the dunk tank,” Nicole told Izzie proudly, then frowned. “I don’t think I was dry once in the eight hours I was at that booth.”

  “Maybe Izzie should come up with our next event idea,” Savannah said, a small smile spreading across her lips. “I’m sure being our newest Butterfly she’s come armed with loads of ideas.” She leaned back in her chair just far enough that Mira and the back row could hear her. “Like that girl would have any idea how to raise money instead of steal it.”

  Izzie’s eyes narrowed. Mira knew she’d heard Savannah. “What about a hoedown?”

  Savannah bristled. “Did you just call me a—”

  “I said a hoedown,” Izzie repeated slowly. “It’s like a barn dance. They’re pretty typical for fall. My aunt’s Martha Stewart magazine this month features one that looks pretty cool.”

  “You read Martha Stewart?” Lea gave her a harsh once-over.

  Mrs. Fitz’s gray bun bounced up and down on her head excitedly. “I saw that article! I love barn dances! We used to have them all the time where I grew up in Tennessee.”

  Izzie thought hard. “You could put hay on the floor, have ha
y bales for seating, get pumpkins, ask the art classes to paint murals. We could get a band to play and do barbecue food and…”

  “Last year, Georgia got her uncle at Sony to fly down Tyler Donovan to host our mother-daughter fashion show. Do you know any celebrities we could use?” Savannah asked.

  “A good event doesn’t have to be fully fleshed out by one person, Savannah,” Mrs. Fitz reminded her. “I guess the first question is whether everyone likes the idea. Show of hands.”

  Several hands flew up. Those closest to Savannah put theirs up slowly, but even Mira raised hers. Savannah stared moodily at the traitors. What could Mira say? Izzie’s idea was good, and so far, Savannah’s and Mira’s weren’t. (A circus? Lame.)

  “Well, then, it’s settled,” Mrs. Fitz said, jotting the word hoedown in her notebook. “Now let’s choose a charity. Who do you want to raise the money for, Isabelle?”

  “Isabelle?” Savannah said in surprise.

  Mrs. Fitz slapped her own cheek. “I forgot! Headmaster Heller and I came up with a wonderful twist for the club this year. We decided that whoever picks the theme of an event also picks the charity we raise money for.” She looked embarrassed. “He got a little tired of always supporting whatever organization the mothers in this town were already working with. Sometimes they can be a tad pushy.”

  “My mom wanted me to suggest EC Greeters!” Lea complained.

  “Do you have a favorite charity, Isabelle?” Mrs. Fitz asked.

  “Her own?” Savannah whispered.

  “Well, this isn’t exactly Save the Children,” Izzie said, sounding a little excited, “but the Harborside Community Center where I used to go needs help. They have some great programs, but there’s never been any money left over to patch up walls, get new equipment, or spruce up the day care.” Izzie looked thoughtful. “The whole town relies on the center not just for the programs, but also for a sense of community. It’s the one place everyone could always go to that was safe and fun and…” She trailed off. “Anyway, I know what it did for me. I don’t think I could have stayed out of trouble growing up if I didn’t have the community center to go to. Maybe if other kids saw how great the place looked, they’d hang out there more, too. Giving the money to them would help so many people.”

  Mira couldn’t help being touched by Izzie’s speech. Mrs. Fitz obviously felt the same. “Giving back to the local community is a glorious idea, and Headmaster Heller will love it. Think of the publicity.” Mrs. Fitz looked at Savannah and Mira again. “Presidents, what do you think?”

  “Sounds great,” Savannah surprised Mira by agreeing. “Izzie should help us plan, too. Since she came up with the event idea and a charity to raise funds for, I think she should be honorary chair.”

  What is Savannah doing? Mira wondered. Izzie must have been thinking the same thing based on her skeptical expression.

  Mrs. Fitz frowned. “I don’t know. Isabelle’s new. I’m not sure…”

  “She’ll delegate, get donations. It is easy, right, girls?” Some of the girls nodded, and Savannah looked at Izzie pointedly. “Unless Izzie doesn’t think she can get the job done.”

  Izzie stared at Savannah for a moment before answering. “I can do anything.”

  “We’ll help,” Violet offered, referring to herself and Nicole.

  “Me, too,” Mira said, without thinking. Izzie looked at her oddly.

  Mrs. Fitz smiled. “With that much support, how can I say no?”

  After the meeting, girls began to file out, heading to sports practices or to Corky’s. Izzie was deep in conversation with Violet and Nicole, but Mira lingered. She’d already told coach she’d be a half hour late to field hockey practice. She just needed everyone to clear out so she could get to the art studio to finish working on her water lily still-life assignment. It was due tomorrow. Savannah, however, was in the middle of her own impromptu meeting with Lea and Lauren, and she wasn’t leaving till she was done talking.

  “Can you believe Izzie said yes?” Savannah laughed. “She almost made it too easy for us. How is she going to put a party together? Even with those friends of hers helping, she’ll never get the right caterer or find enough donations. And revamping a lame community center?” She rolled her eyes. “Who wants to waste money on that? We need to make sure Izzie goes down in flames. Between the four of us we know enough people in this town to make sure no one helps her. She’ll be so humiliated, Mira’s mom will have to pull her from EP to save face.” Savannah nudged Mira. “Brilliant move offering to help her, though. She’ll never suspect we’re sabotaging her if she thinks you’re on her side.”

  Mira’s heart sank. Her offer had been genuine. A tiny part of her thought helping Izzie might be a way to mend the growing gap between them before it became a gorge. But she could see that Savannah was never going to let that happen. “This is our first event as presidents,” Mira reminded Savannah. “Don’t we want this party to work?”

  “It will,” Savannah assured her. “Once Mrs. Fitz finds out that Izzie’s plan has blown up in her face, we’ll swoop in, save the day, and come up with triple the money to donate to a worthy cause. Not to a building about to be torn down.” Mira looked confused. “That community center Izzie keeps jabbering about is first on the list of places in Harborside my dad wants to tear down to build new hotels and condos. It’s part of the coastal revitalization planning bill he wants your dad to pass.”

  “He’s tearing down Izzie’s community center?” Mira’s fingers wrapped tightly around her notebook. It hadn’t occurred to her that Izzie’s center could be a part of that project. “She’s going to be devastated.”

  “I know,” said Savannah with a vicious glint in her eye. “Which is why when she can’t pull this event off and save her precious center, she’ll completely crumble.”

  “You’re brilliant, Vanna,” Lea said. “I’m totally in.”

  “Me, too,” Lauren said, and followed Lea out the door.

  Mira fidgeted with the silver ring on her right hand. She couldn’t be part of a plot to sabotage Izzie again. Not after the way she had treated Izzie already. “Vanna, I don’t think I can do this,” she said anxiously. “It’s one thing to embarrass Izzie, but this is downright cruel. It will crush her. I don’t think she can take much more.” She hesitated. “She’s had it really rough. I never realized how rough, actually.”

  Savannah gave her a look. “We’re doing her a favor. People like her are a product of their environment. She’s never going to fit in at Emerald Prep or in Emerald Cove. Once she leaves your family and goes back to Harborside, she’ll be much happier and so will we.”

  “She doesn’t have anything to go back to,” Mira said softly.

  Savannah pursed her lips. “She’s making your family look like fools. I’ve been trying to protect you, Mira, but people are talking. They think your parents are bringing down EC by having someone like Izzie move in with them.” Savannah fixed her plaid skirt, pinning the flap in the fabric tighter around her tiny waist. “They’re worried Izzie’s friends will start hanging out here soon, too, and then crime will go up, and, well, there goes the neighborhood.”

  Mira laughed. “Come on. Who would think like that?”

  Savannah was serious. “Izzie is bad news. You know that. Do you really want her to sink your dad’s campaign, too?”

  Mira stopped laughing. “Could she?”

  Savannah’s brown eyes seemed to singe Mira’s forehead. “My dad said that no one wants to fund-raise for a guy whose niece is more trouble than Jersey Shore. If Izzie keeps stealing priceless jewels and ruining your dad’s reputation, no one will want to back his bid for U.S. Senate. Who is going to trust a man who can’t even control his own family?” Savannah put a finger to her lips. “And if I’m not mistaken, your dad gets more seed money from the Ingram Commercial Contracting Group than any other company I know. It would be a pity to lose those campaign funds.”

  Savannah’s words quickly sunk in and Mira felt clammy. Her best frien
d in the world was threatening her.

  Savannah walked out of the classroom ahead of Mira. “Don’t screw this up, Mira.” She turned around and her face softened. “You’re my best friend. I’m trying to help you here,” she stressed. “You’ll thank me later.”

  Mira watched Savannah’s tiny body disappear down the hall. Savannah’s plan could work, she thought. But would she ever forgive herself if she stood by and let it?

  “You know you’re going to get frown lines if you keep making that face,” said Kellen. Mira hadn’t noticed him standing nearby watching her. He had already changed into his paint clothes, and his jeans were a rainbow of paint marks. She glared at him. “Ah, the diva look. That’s more like it.”

  “Can we skip the usual banter?” She had grown comfortable enough around Kellen to come right back at him. Once he knew she was a Monroe, the real ribbing had begun. “I’ve had kind of a rough afternoon.”

  “Oh, man. Did the Butterflies turn back into caterpillars?”

  Mira hit him in the arm with her notebook. “No, but they did give the art club a new assignment,” she said as he rubbed his elbow. “You guys have to paint backdrops for our fall event.” She couldn’t bring herself to use the word hoedown.

  “You mean we, don’t you?” Kellen asked as they started down the hall. “Seeing as how you’re one of us art geeks and all.” She kept her eyes on the door ahead of her, but Kellen stopped short. “You still haven’t told anyone? Geez, Mira. I’m kidding. Art classes aren’t that lame.”

  “I didn’t say they were lame. And I did tell people. Just not the Butterflies.” She looked away sheepishly.

  He shook his head. “And you think I’m the one who has issues.” She hit him again. “Ow!”

  They both started to laugh. Kellen was right. She did have issues. Why was she so afraid to let people know she had taken up art? Just because her friends weren’t into painting or reading up on Claude Monet didn’t mean she couldn’t do those things.

  “So let me ask you this: If you get an A on this painting, are you going to make Mr. Capozo hide it away in a locked cabinet? Because usually he likes to hang these things up in the art gallery. I was so psyched that I got put up there that I made the cross-country team take a field trip to see my sculpture of a galloping horse.” EP’s administration building had its own mini museum with works from students both past and present. Mira didn’t answer him.

 

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