Beauty (21 page)

Just Because She’s the Queen Bee
Doesn’t Mean She Can’t Sting

MONDAY MORNING, JOSH had to be at school early for an extra football practice, which meant Kemper and I were on our own. “Put this on,” Kemper ordered when she rolled to a stop in front of my house. She tossed me a black baseball cap and a pair of massively oversized sunglasses.

I held them out, confused. “Uh, are you about to ask me to rob a bank, Kemper?”

Kemper yanked a huge, grungy-looking long-sleeved shirt out of her bag. “This too,” she said. “We’re hiding you from your entourage of kids.”

I looked down at the clothes. The shirt was black and had strings unraveling from it. The cap was double the size of my head and I was pretty sure the plastic sunglasses were from the dollar store.

“I really have to wear this stuff?” I groaned.

Kemper shot me an exasperated look. “Do you want to be tailed by a hundred screaming five-year-olds or not?”

Grumbling a little, I put the disguise on. When Kemper was satisfied that I looked as little like myself as possible, we took off on our bikes. It had been days since I’d ridden, and as soon as my legs started to pump beneath me, the wind whipping back my hair, everything else seemed to grow a little farther away, even the too-big hat bouncing around on my head. “So, you have fun on Saturday?” I asked Kemper. Between frantically cleaning up my house and preparing for my parents’ return today, I hadn’t even had a chance to call her.

Kemper kept her eyes on the road, but I could see the smile sneaking its way onto her face. “I hung out with Josh,” she said, attempting to sound all casual.

I reached over and smacked her on the shoulder. “I
know
! And?”

“And …” Kemper broke into a full smile, teeth and all. “It was great.”

“Kemper and Josh,” I sang out loudly, “sitting in a tree,
k
-
i
-
s
-
s
—”

“Shut it, bank robber,” Kemper interrupted. “Besides, I could sing the same thing for you. You and Hudson were looking pretty friendly on Saturday… .”

I grinned over at her. “I had fun,” I admitted.

“Hayley on the other hand …” Kemper sighed. “She wasn’t quite as happy.”

My grin slipped away. “Yeah, I got that.” I thought of Hayley dumping the box of cards onto my floor. “It’s because I never played cards with her, isn’t it?”

“You know how Hayley is. She hates being left out.”

“Oh yes, I know.”

“I’m sure it will blow over,” Kemper offered. “Sit with us at lunch or something this week, okay? She’ll forget all about it.”

I nodded, wincing a little when I realized it had been several days since I’d last sat with Kemper and Hayley at lunch. But Kemper was right; the stuff with Hayley would blow over. It always did. That was just how she was: she lost her temper, and then she moved on, like a storm passing through. “Remember the 1920s project last year?”

Kemper let out a moan. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget.”

We’d been studying different time periods in America’s history, and our teacher had told everyone to split up into pairs and choose a decade to focus on. When Kemper and I had paired up, Hayley had been
livid
. It didn’t matter that it made the most sense: Kemper and I were straight-A students while Hayley barely scraped by with Cs and a long slew of
My bunny ate my homework!
and
Someone must have stolen my textbook!
excuses. Still, Haley hadn’t spoken to us for four whole days because of it—until, just like that, she was over it. Like it had never even happened. Selective memory, Kemper had called it at the time.

“Selective memory,” I said dryly. “And hearing. And eyesight …” I trailed off as something caught my eye up ahead. A biker, racing down the street, her long red braid flapping in the breeze. I picked up my speed, trying to get a better look. It was a woman, tall and willowy. My breath caught in my throat. She was wearing a fringed leather vest over a colorful patchwork dress.

Dharma
.

I sped up even more, trying to close the space between us. “What are you doing?” Kemper called out behind me, sounding bewildered.

“Be right back,” I told her. I pedaled faster and faster, my hat flying off my head in my haste. But I didn’t bother going back for it. This was the second, maybe even third, time I’d seen Dharma from afar. What did it mean? And why was she always wearing that same outfit? Didn’t she have any other clothes? It gave me this eerie feeling, like maybe she was just a mirage.

My breath was coming out ragged now, but I pedaled harder still, beads of sweat gathering at my temples. I had to catch up with her. “Dharma!” I called out. And then louder: “Dharma!” The wind whipped my voice forward, but Dharma just kept racing on, oblivious to my calls. Her bike was the brightest yellow I’d ever seen, neon really, and it seemed to glow beneath the light of the sun. Yellow ribbons were tied all over it, spreading outward in the breeze like rays of light. “Dharma!” I tried again. The gap between us was slowly closing.

“Molly, what are you
doing
?” I glanced over my shoulder at a stunned-looking Kemper, who was trying to keep pace with me. “Just wait there!” I told her. I turned back to the road. “I have to catch up with someone—” I stopped mid-sentence. Because the road was empty. I blinked several times. This had to be a mistake. She’d been
right
there. I reached up, rubbing at my eyes. But Dharma was gone. I’d looked away for a split second, and now she was gone.

It was impossible. I surged forward with a new burst of energy. Maybe she’d just turned a corner ahead. Or veered off the road. She had to be
somewhere
. But no matter where I looked—swerving left, turning right, racing forward, circling back—she was nowhere to be found. It was just like in Scoop. She’d vanished.

I stopped short on my bike, trying to catch my breath.

“
What
was that, Molly?” Kemper asked, pedaling furiously up behind me. “Did you lose your mind or something? Decide to go racing after it?”

I sighed, watching the spot where Dharma had disappeared. “I thought I saw someone I knew,” I said faintly. “But I guess I was wrong.”

“Who, the clown on the yellow bike?” Kemper joked.

I whipped around to face her. “You saw her too?”

“Well, yeah, but … what? Do you know her?”

I had no idea how to answer that.
I’m not sure,
I pictured myself saying,
but I think she might be the woman who magically transformed my entire life.
I hadn’t told Kemper about Dharma before, and I had no idea how to broach the subject now.

“Hey, look,” Kemper said before I could figure out a way to reply. “Isn’t that one of the ribbons from her bike?” She pointed to a grassy spot next to the sidewalk. A thin yellow ribbon fluttered softly on the ground. Hopping off my bike, I jogged over to it, gingerly picking it up. The ribbon was soft and silky in my hands.

It had been real. The ribbons and the bike and Dharma, they’d all been real. I’d seen her here and I’d seen her at Scoop and maybe I’d even seen her at the mall. Was she following me? Keeping tabs on me? Why would I matter so much to her? I thought about how she was always wearing that same outfit, and the way she kept vanishing, seemingly into thin air. It was almost like she wasn’t real … almost like she was magical.
I wish I was the most beautiful girl in Miracle.
My pulse quickened. Suddenly, I was positive. It was her. She did this to me. She had to have.

“You okay, Mol?” Kemper put her hand on my arm, sounding concerned.

“Yeah.” I stuck the ribbon in my backpack, proof that I’d seen her, that this—everything—was real. “I’m fine.” Or I would be, I added silently, once I talked to Dharma. I would go to the fairgrounds after school, I decided. Before I had to go to the Cahills’ to babysit. I’d go and find Dharma and figure out what, exactly, she’d done to me.

I was sure my Dharma sighting would haunt me all day, but when I walked into school and saw Hudson leaning against my locker, looking unbelievably cute in a pale blue polo and blue-and-white-striped shorts, all other thoughts flew right out of my mind. “I have to run,” Kemper said. “Got a precalc question for Mrs. Pearl. But have
fuuun
.” She winked at me before hurrying down the hall.

“Hey,” I said, when I reached my locker.

“Hey.” Hudson gave my hand a quick squeeze. “No pink?” He gestured at his outfit. “Look at all my blue!”

I waved my wrist in the air. I was wearing a clump of thin pink beaded bracelets from Haute. I’d thrown them on at the last minute this morning, remembering my conversation with Hudson on Saturday. “Just for you.”

He feigned a swoon. “I don’t know what to say.”

“How about … you’re a goddess, Molly?” It was something I wouldn’t have dared say a week ago, but after Saturday night, it felt easier than ever to be myself around Hudson.

I opened my locker, and a huge bag of gummy bears tumbled out and landed on the floor. “What’s this?” Hudson bent down to pick them up. “Some sweets for the sweetest girl I know,” he said, reading the note out loud. “Will you go to prom with me? Signed, David Hart.” Hudson tossed the bag at me. It was sticky in my hands as I caught it. “Wow, quite an invite. And to think I was just going to ask you—”

“Yo. Molly.” Someone tapped me on the back, cutting Hudson off. I turned around to see John Thomas, a good-looking senior, standing behind me. “How you doing?”

“I’m fine,” I said vaguely, glancing back over at Hudson. Ask me
what
?

“Hey, Molly.” David Hart came over to join us, hitting me playfully in the side. “Did you get the gummy bears?”

“I did.” I dangled the bag in the air. “Thanks.”

“Gummy bears?” John snorted. “What are we, five? Did you get the Godiva chocolates I sent to your house, Molly? The ones with the
question
for you in the card?”

I pictured the gifts that had been piled high on my living room couch. I had no memory of who’d sent me what. “Uh, yeah,” I said, figuring I must have. “Thanks.”

“Well, my gummy bears had a question too.” David stepped closer to me, nudging John out of the way.

John balked. “Did you just push me?” Reaching over, he gave David a shove. “I’m pretty sure I was here talking to Molly first.”

“Well, maybe we should ask her who she
wants
to be talking to,” David said, giving John a shove back.

I looked over at them in surprise. There was a strange look in both of their eyes. Possessive, almost. Like dogs, trying to mark their territory. Which, I realized with a shudder, was me. “Guys,” I jumped in. “No need to fight.”

“Don’t worry, Molly,” John said. “I won’t let this wrestling meathead anywhere near you.”

“
Meathead?
” David balked. “Well, I guess if I’m a meathead, I should probably do this.” David gave John a harder push, sending him flying into some lockers.

“Come on, guys, give it a rest,” Hudson said, trying to step in between them. But David danced out of his way.

“Why, so you can have her all to yourself, Hudson? I saw the way you were just talking to her.”

Hudson held his hands up in the air, like he was surrendering. “I’m out of here,” he told me. “This crap isn’t for me. See you later, Molly,” he added, before slipping away.

John pulled himself off the locker. “Don’t think you’re getting off so easily, David,” he said. Balling his hand up into a fist, he took a swing, missing David’s nose by barely an inch.

“Whoa!” Principal Markoff came running down the hallway. “That’s enough, boys!” She stopped in the middle of them, grabbing them each by an arm. “Follow me. Straight to my office.” She gave me an apologetic pat on my shoulder. “Sorry you got caught in the middle of that, Molly.”

“It’s fine,” I said faintly, sagging against my locker as Principal Markoff dragged David and John away. What had just happened? I couldn’t believe they’d been fighting over me. And not even who got to date me—who got to
ask
to date me. It was like some guttural instinct had taken them over, like in that moment, it had been about more than just me… . I shook my head, frustrated. And of course they had to chase Hudson away. Before he ever got to finish his sentence.
And to think I was just going to ask you
—he’d began. Ask me
what
? Had he been about to ask me to prom? I sighed, tossing the sticky bag of gummy bears back into my locker. So far I seemed to have an invite from every guy in school—except the one I wanted.

My day only got more intense from there. In every class, people fought over who got to sit next to me, who got to talk to me about weekend plans, even who got to rush to the vending machine for a soda when I casually mentioned I was thirsty. By lunchtime, I was ready for a breather. “Spill,” I said to Kemper when I met her in the lunch line.

“Whatever do you mean?” Kemper asked innocently. She piled her plate high with three servings of mystery meat, dousing it all in mustard.

“I saw you and Josh getting all cozy in the hallway earlier. I want details!”