Belles

by Jen Calonita

  Mira was so frustrated she wanted to scream, but if Savannah insisted on games, Mira would play them. Dare was a terrible option. Savannah would probably make her streak Main Street or sing off-key at the party. That’s what happened when they played this game in eighth grade. Everything about this night was turning out to be juvenile, and Mira just wanted it to end. Were Savannah and her friends really this quick to turn on her when they didn’t know the whole story? “Truth,” Mira decided.

  Savannah smiled viciously. “True or false: You’ve been helping Izzie behind my back.”

  Mira gave her a look. “False. Did you really think she wouldn’t find out that we had all the stores blacklist her?”

  “How did she know about the DJ?” Savannah played with the pillow tassels and Mira froze. “I only told you about him on Thursday, and strangely enough he called me last night to say Izzie turned him down flat.” Mira’s face paled. “I guess you’ve made your choice. You picked Harborside over your own best friend. I hope your daddy’s campaign doesn’t suffer for that.”

  “Savannah, I…” Mira twisted her ring around and around.

  “I can’t believe you tried to hook Brayden up with Izzie,” Savannah said, her eyes penetrating as a dart. “Did you really think Brayden would pick her over me?” She shook her head, her curls bouncing madly. “You can call her a Monroe, and teach her to walk like a Monroe, but that girl will never be anything like us.” Lea and Lauren couldn’t stop smirking while Millie stood by looking uncomfortable.

  “You’re wrong,” Mira said. “Why don’t you ask your boyfriend why he was hanging out with Izzie? I had nothing to do with it. If you would just listen—”

  “Please return to your tables,” the DJ announced. “The first course is being served.”

  “I’m bored,” Savannah said, and put her hands out to Lea and Lauren to be helped up. She glared at Mira. “And I’m bored with you. Why don’t you go back to the kiddie table, where you belong? Better yet, maybe you could be of use and provide some entertainment?” Mira didn’t understand what Savannah meant, but she heard the girls laugh as they walked away.

  The DJ’s voice came over the mic again. “And now, Savannah’s friend Mira Monroe would like to honor Savannah with a spotlight slow dance to her other favorite Disney song.” Then he started to play “Beauty and the Beast.”

  Oh no. She had to get out of there quick, but before she even made it a few feet, a spotlight zoned in on her. She heard people laugh.

  It was a low blow, even for Savannah. Mira could barely see because of the glaring blue spotlight, but she knew all eyes were on her. Taylor was probably watching the whole thing with his arm around Millie, and Savannah was probably making Lea and Lauren video Mira’s mortification to post on YouTube. She felt like a deer in headlights. She knew she couldn’t stand there, but she didn’t have the nerve to run across the room, either.

  “Looks like you could use a dance partner.”

  This was an Arabian-themed party so she wouldn’t be surprised if she were seeing a mirage.

  “Kellen? What are you doing here?” Mira had never seen him in a suit before, but he could be her date at one of her dad’s fund-raisers anytime.

  “Filling up on churros,” he deadpanned. “You look like you’re having fun, too.” He squinted in the bright blue light. “Guess I chose the right time to show up, huh?” He held his hands out to her. “Ready to waltz?”

  “Well, look who had the nerve to show up.” Taylor strode over as Millie hurried behind him anxiously. He bumped Kellen lightly, to Mira’s surprise. “You’re not welcome here.”

  “Funny, my invitation would seem to say otherwise,” Kellen told him, shielding his eyes to actually see Taylor. “You really want to do this in front of an audience?”

  Taylor looked around at the crowd waiting for Mira to dance. The song was half-over and they were still all standing there. The DJ thankfully sensed something was up and quickly invited the room to join Mira on the dance floor. As Savannah’s aunts and uncles crowded around them, Taylor used the cover to lay into Mira. “So this is why you dumped me? For him?” he asked coldly as Kyle and Ryan appeared at his side. “Scholarship boy?”

  “What are you talking about?” Mira snapped, sandwiching herself between them.

  Taylor looked at his friends and then at Kellen. “You mean you didn’t tell her?”

  “Tell me what?” Mira asked, getting more upset by the second. What was going on tonight? She glanced at Kellen, whose face was tight.

  “Did you know your precious art geek here is the Ingrams’ scholarship student?” Taylor told Mira smugly.

  Mira was at a loss for words. There were only fifty scholarship students at Emerald Prep and the majority of them went to school on one of the wealthier families’ dimes. It was almost an unwritten contest to see which family funded the most students. EP got to say they opened their doors to the underprivileged, and the family got a tax write-off. It was a win-win situation. She looked at Kellen, feeling conflicted. “But…”

  “But what?” Kellen asked. “I don’t look like a scholarship student? Is that what you were going to say?”

  “No!” But she was thinking it. Mira had assumed that she and Kellen were the same. They got along so well and liked the same things, and he knew so much about art history. Was she really that shallow to think a scholarship changed that? Yes, a small voice said, because you judged Izzie the same way.

  “Way to continue your downward spiral, Mira,” Taylor told her. “First you screw over Savannah and now me. Great company you chose to hang out with instead of your real friends.”

  “Friends? One fight with Savannah and no one will even talk to me!” Mira reminded him.

  “Hey, man, let’s go,” Kyle said, putting a hand on Taylor’s arm. “Savannah doesn’t want you to get blood on the dance floor. You made your point. Just let it go.”

  “You’re right.” Taylor gave Mira a nasty look. “These two deserve each other. Come on, Millie.”

  Mira and Kellen stared at each other as people danced around them. “I’m going to get out of here,” Kellen told her, but Mira grabbed his arm.

  “Wait! I… Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked quietly.

  “Because it shouldn’t make a difference,” Kellen said, and he was right. Mira’s heart began to pound to the beat as she watched him walk away. She saw Savannah laughing and started to feel enraged. She was not making the same mistake again. She ran up to the DJ booth. “Hey! I need a do-over. Can you put another slow song on for me?”

  The DJ looked at her strangely. “Sure. You’re on in forty-five seconds.”

  She nodded and then pushed her way through the crowded dance floor to find Kellen. He was saying good-night to Savannah’s parents. “Wait,” she interrupted rudely. “You still owe me a dance.”

  “Mira,” Kellen said with a sigh.

  “You already offered,” Mira reminded him, “and a gentleman never goes back on his word, does he, Mr. Ingram?”

  “She’s right, young man,” Mr. Ingram said as Mrs. Ingram eyed her peculiarly. “Never deny a pretty girl a dance.”

  “And now Mira Monroe would like to take the dance floor again for a spotlight dance in honor of Savannah’s sweet sixteen,” the DJ said. Savannah’s head whipped around as Mira led a reluctant Kellen back onto the dance floor.

  “Why are you doing this?” he asked, sounding tired as she grabbed his hands and put them in the proper position to waltz. “Breaking up with the quarterback, hanging with the art geeks, dancing with me. They’re only going to be harder on you, you know. I’d hate to see your EP royalty privileges revoked.”

  “I don’t care,” Mira told him. “You’re a good guy, Kellen—too good for this crowd—and I want people to know we’re friends.” She looked down. “I’m sorry for the way I acted back there.”

  Kellen smiled just a little. “You choked. It happens,” he said, and pulled her into a twirl.

  “Where did you learn h
ow to dance like this?” Mira asked.

  “They teach all the scholarship students how to dance. It’s an EP entrance requirement.” His green eyes sparkled. “I’m kidding. My mom runs a dance studio.”

  “She taught you well,” Mira said, watching their feet move quickly across the floor. “Think you can dance us out of here after this? I’ve had enough fun for one night.”

  “With pleasure,” he said. The song was almost over, and Kellen slyly started steering them toward the ballroom doors.

  Mira looked over his shoulder and watched Savannah’s table spin by. There was a crowd near it and she could see people holding up camera phones. They were the same people she usually called her friends. What did it say about them that the minute Savannah told them to drop her, they did? Kellen held out his hand to spin her again. She twirled around, forgetting for a minute where she was and what this dance really stood for.

  For the first time ever, she didn’t care what Savannah, or anyone at EP for that matter, thought. As they spun closer to the ballroom door and the song ended, Mira made a quick pit stop. She searched the gift table till she spotted the blue Tiffany gift box she brought. She could think of a lot of people who deserved this gift more than Savannah did, including herself.

  Twenty-Two

  Mira walked into the Butterflies meeting and took a seat by the window, as far from everyone else as she could get.

  Izzie couldn’t help but think of the irony. Here she was, sitting with her new friends Violet and Nicole, and Mira, the Queen Bee’s former number two, had been exiled. Everyone at EP was talking about Mira’s fall from grace over the weekend. Taylor had dumped Mira (or she’d dumped him—that part was still murky), she had somehow betrayed Savannah, and Savannah had humiliated her at her sweet-sixteen party in retaliation. Now Mira sat alone and stared out the window morosely.

  “Oh, how the mighty fall.” Violet chewed on her pencil and stared at Mira. “I know she’s your cousin and all, but I am so glad to see her get taken down a peg.”

  She looks nervous, Izzie thought, noticing how Mira tapped her fingers on her paisley notebook. It was almost as if she couldn’t wait to leave the meeting, and being a Butterfly was one of Mira’s favorite things. Or so Izzie had thought.

  “Mira was getting as bad as Savannah,” Nicole agreed. “It’s nice to see at least one of them get what was coming to them.” Nicole was pretty bitter about the situation, too. She had blisters from walking around EC in flip-flops yesterday while the three of them tried unsuccessfully to find party caterers.

  Izzie couldn’t blame her friends for how they were feeling, especially when she felt the same way. She should have known Savannah would try to sabotage the Butterflies’ plans—it was stupid of her not to see it coming—but to find out that Mira had been in on it, too, was the final nail in the coffin for their relationship. What was Mira thinking? Her own father was making a campaign push at the Falling into You Fest. If the event went up in smoke, Lucas would have both their heads. Let Mira sink herself, Izzie thought. She was going to make this party work for Grams’s sake, no matter what Savannah threw at her. And Savannah would arrive at the meeting with guns blazing.

  “What are you going to tell Mrs. Fitz?” Violet asked as she examined one of her purple nails for a chip. “She’s not going to be happy when she finds out we have nothing booked but dessert and a DJ.”

  “At least it’s an awesome DJ,” Nicole said a little too loudly as she checked messages on her phone.

  Izzie saw Mira glance their way, and she shushed her. “Shock and awe, remember?” Nicole nodded. “We’ll save that info for when Mrs. Fitz lays into me for accomplishing little else.”

  “We’ve got a location,” Nicole reminded her, and dropped her phone into her bag.

  “No one knows about that yet, either,” Violet whispered. “But the new digs do kick the Monica Holbrook Arts Center’s boring butt.” Izzie shushed them again and looked at Mira out of the corner of her eye.

  Mira was definitely listening to their conversation. How could she not? They were the only four in the room so far and Mrs. Fitz was nowhere to be seen. Izzie was surprised more people weren’t late to things when they had to walk almost a quarter of a mile to get to some of the buildings. She was so busy quieting her friends that she didn’t see Savannah, Lea, Lauren, and Millie glide in and go straight for Mira as if she had a bull’s-eye on her forehead.

  Savannah leaned on the desk and pressed her hands into Mira’s notebook. “Hi, Mira. Have a good weekend?” Her minions stood behind her like a firing squad.

  Violet, Nicole, and Izzie looked at one another. Izzie had no idea what Mira could have done to face the wrath of Savannah, but it had to be huge if Mira had fallen that far from her good graces. Hayden said the two had been best friends for years.

  “Why don’t you talk to someone who cares?” Mira snapped, and turned toward the window. It was a nice view. The entire boys’ soccer team was jogging by, and most of them were shirtless.

  “Is that any way to talk to your best friend?” Savannah asked, and Mira looked at her strangely. “You do still want to be my best friend, don’t you, Mira?”

  “I thought I was being bumped up to best friend,” Lauren mumbled.

  Savannah must have felt Izzie and her friends staring because she turned and glared at them. “Do you mind? This is a private conversation.”

  “Then maybe you should have it in private.” Violet flipped her dark brown hair à la Savannah.

  Savannah motioned to the others, and Izzie tried not to laugh as they formed a circle around the desk to block Mira and Savannah from view. Izzie could still hear them.

  “So?” Savannah said again. “Do you want to be my best friend or not?”

  Mira sort of laughed. “After the way you treated me Saturday night? I don’t think so.”

  “I’m sorry, but you had to be taught a lesson,” Savannah said simply. “You knew how I felt about helping her, and yet you gave her crucial information. What was I supposed to do?”

  “She also knew about her and B, right?” Lea asked. Izzie heard a stomp, and then Lea yelped.

  “I told you not to bring that up,” Savannah said. “Brayden and I are fine. Mira and I aren’t, but we could be.”

  Mira sighed. “What do you want, Savannah?”

  “I want you to help me get what I want,” she said matter-of-factly. “Follow my lead in the meeting. If you can do that, all will be forgiven, and neither of us has to get our daddies involved.”

  Izzie, Nicole, and Violet exchanged looks. What was that supposed to mean?

  “Do you think you can manage that?” Savannah asked as Mrs. Fitz walked in and several girls slipped in the door behind her.

  “Hello, Social Butterflies!” Mrs. Fitz practically sang, preventing Izzie from hearing Mira’s answer. Savannah and the other girls sat down near Mira.

  Mrs. Fitz opened her planner, and Izzie felt a knot form in her stomach. She had tossed and turned all night trying to come up with a solution to the party problems and around 3 AM, she finally came up with an idea. It was kind of crazy. Probably social suicide. But if she pulled it off, the party would be the talk of EC. She hadn’t shared the idea with anyone yet, including Violet and Nicole. She wanted to make sure she could make it happen first. Izzie had made phone calls during lunch and had several things booked by gym class, but was still waiting on a few more replies. Her phone stayed in her lap all day as she waited for a final text that would seal the deal. Then she needed to suggest her idea in front of the group.

  “Girls, we are in crunch mode,” Mrs. Fitz told them. “Invitations have gone out, we already have two yeses, and flyers will go up this week to announce the Butterflies’ first event of the season.” She looked at Izzie, Mira, and Savannah. “Now, I just need the details. I can’t wait to hear what you’ve got!”

  Savannah motioned to Izzie with a sick smile on her face. “I’m sure Izzie wants to tell you everything. She is event chair.”


  Mrs. Fitz looked at Izzie expectantly, and Izzie’s cheeks began to burn. All eyes were on her. Where should she start? Should she launch in with her proposed fix or explain what went wrong first?

  “The truth is, Mrs. Fitz, Izzie has run into a huge problem,” Savannah said before Izzie could answer. “I’m not sure how to say this, but the only thing she has booked is cup-cakes, and the DJ she did have, I know for a fact Izzie canceled over the weekend. The town restaurants turned her down for catering. I called around to try to help, but no one else has an opening that night.” Savannah lowered her eyes sadly. “I don’t know why she didn’t come to you sooner to tell you herself.”

  Mrs. Fitz glanced at Izzie worriedly. “I don’t understand. We have a list of vendors we work with. Why would they all turn you down? You’ve had a week to work on this. I’m supposed to give Headmaster Heller a report this afternoon,” she mumbled to herself, starting to sound crazy. “What am I going to say? Senator Monroe is coming and making a huge donation! And the press… the press!”

  “Breathe, Mrs. Fitz!” Nicole told her. “It’s okay. We have a location.”

  “Actually”—Savannah sounded apologetic—“the Monica Holbrook Arts Center has been double-booked. Izzie should have known that, too.” Her face was so self-satisfied that Izzie could have punched her.

  “Girls, how could you not come to me sooner and tell me you had a problem?” Mrs. Fitz reprimanded them, looking aghast.

  “I’m sorry, Mrs. Fitz,” Savannah said. “We tried to cover for Izzie, but we realize that was a huge mistake.” She glanced at Izzie. “She knows nothing about how Emerald Cove works the way Mira and I do. That’s why we think Izzie should be removed as chair immediately, and we should be put back in charge. Mira?” She stared at her former best friend. “Do you have anything to add?” Izzie noticed Mira was spinning her pearl bracelet around and around on her tiny wrist.