“These gold leggings are amazing!” Kayla gushed. “Look at the cute zipper at the ankle!”
“I don’t know, Kay,” Ivana said. “Not everyone can get away with leggings.”
A glittery-pink frown quickly spread across Kayla’s glossed lips. She let the leggings swing back into line with the rest of the clothes on the rack.
Only twenty minutes in, and Emma had long since moved past the shock that she was actually spending a Saturday shopping at Bloomingdale’s with Ivana and the Ivana-Bees. Annoyance had come and gone, too. At this point, the best she figured she could hope for was numbness. The frustrating thing was that she had no one to blame but herself.
When Holly first suggested a group shopping quest a couple of days earlier, Emma could tell she fully expected Emma to say no. But it seemed like the perfect chance to make good on her private promise to try harder with Holly’s friends. Maybe, she hoped, Ivana was one of those girls who acted totally differently outside school. And Emma had to admit she’d loved the look of genuine happiness on Holly’s face when she said she’d go.
Besides, Emma liked Bloomie’s, with its bright lights and art-deco, black-and-white-checkered shiny tiled floor. Following the girls through the maze of the cosmetics department to reach the escalator, she’d inhaled the overwhelming scent of perfume, which had brought her back to the yearly fall pilgrimage with Mom to buy an itchy dress coat for the holidays.
“Let’s go to the boutiques on the top floor,” Emma had suggested, as they entered and ascended the escalator in a pack.
“Can you afford Gucci?” Ivana literally looked down on her from her spot two steps above.
Emma could feel her face turning red. “I just like to look.”
“Yeah, well, we like to shop,” Ivana said. “It’s way more fun.”
Emma glanced over at Holly, hoping she’d back her up. Or at least share an eye-roll. But Holly was staring intently over the edge of the escalator, down at a rack of multi-striped scarves as if there were going to be a pop quiz on their stripe patterns at the top.
So Emma and the girls got off at the trendy floor.
One identically cut piece after another, Emma thought, as she flipped through seemingly endless racks of straight-leg stretchy jeans and solid-color sweaters without a single interesting design detail.
“Oooh, how about these?” Shannon asked the group, holding up a pair of leggings that were fashioned to look like jeans. Emma held back a shudder. Horrible, they were just horrible.
Ivana stepped over to inspect. “These are pretty good,” she declared. “They’re not my kind of thing exactly, but they could work on you. Maybe they’d make you look like you have some curves.”
Lexie pulled out a long, clingy T-shirt with a low-cut V-neck in a silver and black stretch material.
“What about this?” she asked, holding it up to her body. She cocked her head to look at herself in a mirror. “Hot or not?”
“Totally hot!” Shannon said.
“Yes!” Kayla agreed, nodding like a bobble-head doll. “Your body would look killer in that top. And I could do your makeup! My mom just gave me this new eyeliner that’s all sparkly. It would look great with your dark brown eyes.”
“You could wear that cute fedora you just got with it,” Holly added. “You know, to add a little mystery.”
It took all of Emma’s strength not to let a look of disgust overwhelm her face. Why was Holly fawning all over Lexie like that?
Lexie continued admiring herself, clearly not ready to give up the spotlight just yet.
“Do you think Jackson would like it?”
“Jackson is going to flip.” Shannon giggled.
“He might like it,” Ivana added. “Or, he might not.”
Emma stiffened. Maybe she was imagining it, but Emma swore that Ivana had just given her a knowing look. What if Holly had spilled the beans and told Ivana that Emma was interested in Jackson? No, Holly wouldn’t do that, Emma reasoned. She would never betray Emma’s trust like that… would she?
“I don’t know,” Lexie said, returning the top to the rack. “I think I can do better.”
“Than Jackson or the shirt?” Ivana quipped, sending the ’Bees into giggles.
As the girls moved on, Emma trailed behind. She was bored with the racks and racks of jeans, leggings, draped cotton tops, and long V-necked cardigans that she was sure were already in healthy supply in each of the girls’ closets. There has to be a way to make this more fun, she thought.
“Hey, you guys,” Emma began hesitantly. “How about we be each others’ fashion stylists? We could put together outfits for each other and then put on a little fashion show in the dressing room.”
“I love that idea!” Holly enthused. She gave Emma a supportive look.
“So fun!” Shannon said.
“I think so, too,” Kayla added.
There was no mistaking Ivana’s look of annoyance as the girls grew excited about Emma’s idea. Clearly she didn’t think this was the greatest idea ever.
“That could definitely be fun, but I think we could make it even more interesting,” she said, the power and volume of her voice commanding everyone’s attention back to her. “Why don’t we turn it into a little friendly competition? I don’t know…like maybe me against Emma, and the best stylist wins.”
Emma swallowed hard. She couldn’t believe that Ivana was challenging her. But if I can win at anything, I can win at a style showdown.
“Let’s do it,” she replied.
“Great,” Ivana said. “Now we need to choose models. Since it was my idea, I pick first. Okay?”
“Sure,” Emma said.
The girls—including Holly, Emma noticed with shock—posed and preened to show Ivana their modeling skills.
“Umm, I want…Lexie,” Ivana declared. Lexie yipped with pleasure and bounded over to Ivana’s side.
“Holly,” Emma said. Holly would’ve automatically been Emma’s first choice no matter what, but Emma couldn’t shake off the vibe that Holly seemed disappointed that Ivana hadn’t picked her.
“What about me and Shaye?” Kayla asked Ivana.
“You two are the judges,” Ivana instructed. “Okay, then. How about Emma and I get twenty minutes to pick clothes for our models?”
“I only need fifteen,” Emma countered confidently. If anyone has the advantage here, it’s me, she thought. For once, she felt totally in control with Ivana.
“Fine. Fifteen minutes to grab clothes, then we meet back in the dressing room—the one by the coat section because that one has a little seating area with mirrors. We’ll then get another ten minutes to dress our models. Does that work for everybody?” Ivana didn’t bother waiting for answer. “Good. Let’s go!”
“Holls, do you want to come with me?” Emma asked.
Holly glanced sideways at Lexie, Shannon, and Kayla. “Nah, I’ll slow you down. We’ll just wander around and meet you at the dressing room.” She hesitated, as if she wanted to say more. “You good?”
Emma flashed a thumbs-up and took off.
She decided to go for a super-funky party look. She ran over to a rack displaying sparkly, sequined clothes. She quickly slid hangers across the rail until she found two totally cute skirts— a knee-length one that appeared to be made out of liquid gold and a mini covered in pink sequins.
These are completely great…but which one will look better on Holly? She held them up and gazed back and forth between them. Both good, she decided. She slung them over her arm. She’d figured it out later. The clock was ticking.
Okay, now I need something to counter the girliness of the skirts, Emma thought. Something with a little edge. She spun in a circle, scanning the mannequins set up on waist-high risers throughout the floor, hoping for a hint.
Nothing jumped out at her.
Then she had an idea. She hopped on the escalator and jogged three flights up to the boys’ department. She was looking for a sugar-and-spice, opposites-attract vibe.
A couple of steps into boyland, and she spotted exactly what she needed. T-shirts with cool, boldly colored Japanese anime characters like the ones in the comic books Charlie was obsessed with. Love these, she thought. Not what anyone would expect for a night out at all. She grabbed small sizes so they’d be very fitted on Holly.
She zoomed back to the escalator and checked the clock on her phone. Only five minutes left. Emma hurried down the moving steps, working her way around customers who preferred to lounge against the handrails while being carried to their destination.
Back on the second floor, Emma flew through the accessories department for a fistful of skinny, metallic, studded belts. She hung them over the crook of her elbow along with her other items. She darted into the shoe department, and knowing she wouldn’t have time to wait for Holly’s size, just grabbed two sample pairs of strappy sandals—in gold and silver—from the sale rack. Holly’s toes could poke over the size-six sole.
Now I need a cute jacket for Holly to wear on top, Emma calculated as she headed back to the teen clothing area. Focusing her search on a long rack against the side wall, she nabbed a fierce black-denim jacket trimmed with tons of zippers; a cropped, swingy jacquard jacket with three-quarter-length sleeves; and a fuzzy, light-gray, mohair sleeveless cardigan sweater. One of these should do the trick, she thought.
At the last moment, she whisked a whisper-thin, long-sleeve cream T-shirt and a flirty white ruffled tank off a nearby table—just in case. She burst through the entrance of the dressing room, somewhat out of breath.
Kayla and Shannon sat on a couch, flipping through the store catalog.
“You totally just made it,” Kayla remarked. “You had like thirty seconds left.”
Holly hurried over. “Wow! Look at all this stuff. Come on, I have a dressing room. Ivana and Lexie are already here styling.”
Emma hung the different pieces around the dressing room as Holly stripped out of her winter white cords and roll-necked sweater and down to her underwear and bra.
“Do you think we’ll win?” Holly asked.
“I could dress you in a shopping bag, and you’d look fabulous,” Emma told her. It was true. Suddenly, Emma wished she had thought to let Holly try on the raspberry dress before she’d gifted it to Paige. Holly had the perfect body for it.
“I doubt it,” Holly said, slipping into the gold skirt Emma had pulled off the hanger for her.
“Em, this totally reminds me of playing dress-up in my mom’s closet. Remember?” Holly zipped herself in. The skirt fell perfectly, just as Emma knew it would.
Emma laughed. “Of course, I remember. A girl never forgets her first Chanel.”
Holly’s mom, who was a successful real-estate agent and a board member of many charities, had the most gorgeous clothes Emma had ever seen in one closet. A collection of black cocktail dresses in every imaginable fabric and style, elegant full-length gowns—a shimmery blue satin one that swept up and over one shoulder, a red chiffon one with cascading ruffles down the front and a short train in the back. For work, beautifully tailored suits lined in gemstone silk.
Best of all—and their favorite to try on—a classic Chanel skirt suit. It was made of pink-and-white-checked boucle wool with white fringed threads around all the edges and those fabulous signature double-C buttons.
The girls would lose themselves for hours in that closet. Then they’d strut over to Mrs. Richardson’s vanity, where they’d top off their outfits with colorful jewels. Necklaces, bracelets, rings, and earrings. I bet some of those pieces were real, Emma now realized.
“That was so nice of your mom to let us play in her jewelry box,” Emma reminded Holly, as she stepped into the pink sequined skirt.
They examined Holly’s reflection in the three-way mirror. Both skirts looked totally great, but Emma knew she could only choose one.
“Which skirt do you like best?” Emma asked.
“This pink one,” Holly said, tilting her head to the side. “It’s so much cuter, and gold just isn’t my thing—no offense.”
Emma smiled at Holly in the mirror. “Then we’ll go with pink.”
Emma scanned the rest of her items to decide which pieces would work best with the pink skirt. First, she handed Holly the cream-colored, tissue-thin, long-sleeved shirt, and then she had her layer on a navy graphic T-shirt with a grinning character that looked like a cross between a rabbit, a mouse, and a small monkey. “The pink is going to look amazing with the navy.”
“What’s been going on with Jackson lately? Anything new?” Holly asked as she wriggled the tops over her head, one and then the other.
“Not really…well, sort of, I guess.” Emma quickly told her about the soccer-ball incident, as she adjusted the layered shirts on Holly’s body, scrunching up the sleeves of the long-sleeved tee.
“So did you guys talk?” Holly asked, her eyes glinting with anticipation.
“No…” Emma could see Holly frown slightly in the mirror, probably disappointed that there wasn’t more to the story. “But, um, I have these sketches. I mean, after I saw the team in those tacky polyester uniforms, I kind of reimagined them, made them sleeker.”
Holly whirled around. “Do you have them with you? Let me see!”
Emma pulled her sketchbook out of her bag and flipped to the page.
Holly gasped and pointed to the face of the male figure wearing Emma’s design. “Is that Jackson? ”
Oh, no! Before Emma could grab the book away, Holly turned to the next page. It was covered with a half-dozen close-up sketches of Jackson’s face. Emma suddenly felt like someone had just laid a steaming hot washcloth over her own face.
“These are really good, Em,” Holly said sincerely. “These sketches look exactly like him. You’re such a good artist. I’m so jealous. I can barely read my own handwriting, much less draw beautiful things.”
“You think so?” Emma asked. “Well, actually, there’s something else going on that’s really cool—” Emma began. But just at that moment, there was a loud knock on the dressing-room door. Emma grabbed back her sketchbook and shoved it deep in her bag.
“Come on, you guys!” Kayla called. “Fashion show is starting.”
“Shoot! We’re not done dressing you! Here, put this on,” Emma instructed, handing Holly the gray mohair sweater. Then Emma grabbed three of the skinny belts—two she wrapped around Holly’s waist, and the other she wound around her wrist multiple times as a makeshift cuff bracelet.
“Hmmm. Not perfect but good. Now all you have to do is make it down the ‘runway’ in these silver shoes. I’ll see you out there. Good luck!”
Emma gave Holly a quick hug and then flung open the dressing-room door to join the other girls on the couch.
First up was Lexie, who shimmied down the hallway of the dressing room. She stopped in front of the girls and twirled, her long, dark hair fanning out in a circle, as she watched herself in the mirror. Emma could tell that Ivana had gone right to the high-priced designer section of the store and just picked the prettiest cocktail dress she saw—probably one that was already on a mannequin.
There was no denying that the strapless plum-colored satin dress looked gorgeous on Lexie. It had a flirty bustle in the back and a subtle sprinkling of crystals on the bodice, which pushed up Lexie’s boobs. Definitely flattering, but it wasn’t exactly imaginative. Lexie just looked like she was a well-dressed guest at some stuffy uptown hotel wedding.
Picking out a pretty dress and a rhinestone-encrusted evening purse wasn’t exactly what Emma thought they were supposed to do. Where was the creativity in that?
Shannon and Kayla practically drooled over Ivana’s outfit.
“Ivana, you have amazing taste!” Kayla gushed.Shannon popped up from the couch to check out the price tag hanging from the back of Lexie’s dress. “And expensive taste! I love it!”Holly sashayed down the carpeted hall in her too-tight heels and then did the model-posing-at-the-end-of-the-catwalk thing—hand on right hip, hand on left hip—and then spun and walked back a few steps to end in a pretty pose. The pink sequins on her skirt glinted and sparkled. Emma knew that Holly was probably just goofing, but she definitely had what it took to be a real runway model.Emma peeked at the judging panel. They stared blankly at Holly’s outfit.“I don’t think those colors match,” Kayla finally said with a frown.
“Colors don’t always have to match as long as they go together,” Emma explained. “See how the navy and pink work together? And the gray of the sweater plays off the silver studs on the belts and in the shoes?”
Kayla only shrugged.
“It seems weird to wear a big fuzzy sweater over a sequined skirt,” Shannon said.
“I don’t think so,” Holly said. “Emma was just trying to mix different textures—right, Em? I think it’s really fun.”
Emma sank back into the couch. Holly could see what Emma was going for—or at least she was pretending to—so why didn’t the other girls get it? Didn’t they get that wearing clothes could be an art? How you could totally personalize clothes, even with things that weren’t one of a kind, and could keep mixing things up endlessly to make them your own? That was the fun part!
“I know I’m not really supposed to talk or anything because I’m not one of the judges,” Ivana said, so obviously about to break her own rule, “but Holls, let me just ask you. If you were invited to the hottest party of the year, would you pick Emma’s outfit over the one I chose?”
“Um…I…uh,” Holly stalled. “Well, it depends what kind of party it was, you know? This outfit might not be right for all occasions, but it could work for some things. Your outfit could kind of go anywhere.”
Holly’s eyes darted nervously to Emma’s. Emma thought that Holly looked like a contestant on American Idol who had completely forgotten the lyrics. Emma actually felt bad for Holly, because Ivana had put her in a seriously lose-lose position. But she couldn’t help but feel worse for herself since her best friend had just dissed her outfit to suck up to Ivana.
“You know, Emma really is a great designer with, like, totally natural talent,” Holly said. “She can design anything. She just drew new soccer uniforms for the school team. Came up with the idea out of nowhere. You should see her sketches of Jackson wearing them. They’re so hot!”
Emma’s stomach dropped into her silver high-top sneakers. Did Holly really just say that?
“Hey, Lex! It looks like you got some competition over there,” Ivana said, nodding in Emma’s direction.
“Competition?” Lexie snorted. “You think?”
Kayla and Shannon giggled.
Emma had had enough. She raced back to the dressing room. All she wanted to do was get out of there.
“Em, wait!” Holly cried, bursting into the dressing room. “You didn’t say your sketches were a secret. I just wanted everyone to see how awesome your stuff is. Don’t make such a big deal about it, okay?”
“Sure…I get it,” Emma said as evenly as she could, avoiding Holly’s eyes by putting the unused clothes back on their hangers. “No worries. I’m fine.”
Emma suddenly felt frustrated—with Holly and herself. How can Holly hang out with these girls? They’re not even nice to each other—and they’re supposedly best friends—so why would I expect them to be nice to me? Emma wondered. She decided right there and then that she wasn’t going to tell Holly about Allegra. What had just happened made it obvious that Holly was not keeping secrets from Ivana and the ’Bees these days.
The last thing I’m going to do, Emma silently vowed, is let Ivana ruin Allegra for me. Ivana can have her style-showdown victory and her lunch table and her loyal followers and even Holly’s friendship—but she can’t have this.
No way, Emma thought. Allegra is mine.