Snow Queen (15 page)

“I
can’t believe he didn’t show up. Not even for five minutes,” Aubrey ranted, dropping down on the cushy chair near the fireplace in the Spotted Owl’s lobby. Her feet hurt from strutting around in heels all morning and dancing all afternoon, her head hurt from all the concentration it took
not
to kill Layla, and her heart hurt from Grayson’s very obvious absence. “I mean, what kind of assistant director
is
he? We have less than a week until the pageant. How irresponsible can you be?”

“Fabrizia said he had to run a pageant-related errand,” Sophia said, perching on the edge of the opposite chair. “I guess he just didn’t make it back in time to stop by.”

“Exactly,” Christie added, dropping her bags
near the bottom of the staircase before she joined them.

“Yeah, right. You’re working on the pageant now,” Aubrey said to Sophia. “Do
you
know about any all-day errands he was supposed to run?”

Sophia looked guilty. “Not exactly.”

“So he
is
avoiding me!” Aubrey wailed.

“I’m going to go get us some hot chocolate while we work on our interview skills,” Christie announced, standing. “Extra marshmallows?”

“Sure,” Aubrey grumbled.

“Sophia?” Christie asked.

“Whipped cream for me,” Sophia replied.

As Christie strolled off behind the counter, Aubrey toyed with the fringe at the end of her white scarf and sighed. An awful, dark feeling had been swelling inside her chest all day long, and it was only intensified by the many knowing, triumphant smirks Layla threw in her direction as the hours wore on.

Something had gone wrong on that date last night. Aubrey had realized it the moment Grayson had walked away from her at the
carnival. She knew that she hadn’t been her usual, fun self, but she’d still been mulling over everything that had happened yesterday morning. Couldn’t Grayson understand that?

“So…what happened between you two?” Sophia asked tentatively, shrugging out of her suede coat. “Did you have a fight?”

Aubrey glanced over at her, feeling a bit hesitant. Was it weird to talk to Grayson’s ex about him?

“It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me, but…maybe I can help,” Sophia said. “I’ve known him a long time. Even before we started going out, we were always friends.”

Aubrey blew out a sigh, trying not to feel jealous of Sophia’s long history with Grayson. The past didn’t matter. Only the present and the future.

“We kind of had a fight yesterday…and then we made up, but…” Aubrey paused and stared at the fire crackling in the fireplace. “But I don’t know, I guess I wasn’t totally over it yet when we went out last night, and I think I was kind of rude to him.”

“Ah,” Sophia said with a nod. “That could be awkward.”

“I’m such an idiot,” Aubrey said, bringing her hand to her head. “I always do this. I act like a jerk and only realize later that I was wrong. When it’s
too
late.”

Her mother was always calling her on this behavior. Warning her to calm down and process before she said or did something she would eventually regret. Which was, of course, what she had done last night. And by the time she’d woken up this morning she had realized that she trusted Grayson. That there was no way he would have sabotaged Christie—and the Spotted Owl by extension—on purpose. All she had to do was think back to that first day on the pond—how he’d spoken about loving his job and the Spotted Owl, all before he knew Aubrey at all, all before he had any ulterior motives to convince her of this—and she realized he was telling the truth.

“Who said it’s too late?” Sophia asked.

“Oh, please. He was totally avoiding me today. It’s obvious,” Aubrey said.

She had even tried to call him on his cell phone during breaks, but he hadn’t picked up—a fact she would have loved to attribute to his general cell spaciness, if she didn’t have that awful sinking feeling taking over her chest.

“Maybe he was,” Sophia said, causing Aubrey’s heart to sink even further. “But that doesn’t automatically mean he’s over you. Sometimes Grayson just needs time. You know, to think through how he feels. To, you know…” She looked up at the wood beams in the ceiling, trying to come up with the word.

“To process?” Aubrey said, a slight flicker of hope springing to life inside her chest.

“Yes! That’s it. To process,” Sophia replied with a grin.

Aubrey smiled. So maybe she and Grayson were more alike than she realized. She couldn’t expect Grayson to give
her
time to think, but not pay him the same favor. It stunk that she had to lose a whole day with him, especially when she had less than a week left on the mountain, but what was done was done. Tomorrow he would be back at rehearsal and the two of them
would talk and everything would get sorted out. Unless, during his processing, he decided to process her right out of his life.

“Thanks, Sophia,” Aubrey said. “You’re pretty cool for my boyfriend’s ex.”

“And you’re pretty cool for my ex’s girlfriend,” Sophia laughed.

“Three hot chocolates, right off the stove,” Christie announced, backing through the door with a tray full of steaming mugs. “Now let’s get to work.”

“Okay,” Sophia said, standing up and taking her mug from the tray. “Now, when it comes to the interview, brevity is key. Don’t start rambling or you might lose your train of thought and it’ll get really uncomfortable really fast.”

“Brevity. Got it,” Christie said, sitting down at full attention.

Aubrey leaned back with her hot chocolate and let her mind wander. Sophia was here to help Christie, after all, not her. And she was much more interested in looking forward to tomorrow. She would just have to get to Grayson first thing in the morning and apologize. It wouldn’t
be easy, but this time she knew she was wrong and she knew it had to be done. Everything was going to be fine. She was sure of it.

Aubrey was so pent up with nervous energy on Tuesday morning, she had to stop in the bathroom and take a few breaths before continuing on to the amphitheater. She had told Christie to go ahead—her best friend had never been late for anything in her life, and the very idea made the girl nauseous—and ducked into one of the bathrooms off the resort lobby. Inside, she stared into her own eyes in the mirror, took a deep breath, and held it.

“It’s going to be fine. Just talk to him,” Aubrey told herself.

She just wished she knew what kind of reception she was going to get. Would he smile at her or give her the cold shoulder? Would he listen at all? Or maybe she was just making a big deal out of nothing and he would walk right over to her and give her a big, good-morning kiss.

Aubrey sighed. She would have been slightly more confident about this possibility if he had
returned any one of her many phone calls from the day before. But maybe he simply didn’t get the messages. It was always a possibility.

“Okay. Let’s do this,” Aubrey said to herself, putting on her low, guttural game voice—the one she used to psych herself up before roller-hockey games back home. She pulled her hat on over her ears, turned, and strutted out of the bathroom and into the hallway, the picture of confidence. Even if she didn’t
feel
completely confident, at least she could project it.

Aubrey came around the corner into the long hallway that led to the back of the resort and slowed her steps. Two shadowy figures stood near the end of the hall, dark against the blinding sunlight that poured through the glass door behind them. Aubrey was yards and yards away, but even from this distance, she could make out Christie’s petite form and Layla’s taller, more imperious one. Christie’s shoulders were slightly slumped while Layla was obviously prattling on.

A surge of adrenaline shot through Aubrey’s heart and she sped up. She did not like the look of this.

“I’m just trying to help. You don’t have to cry,” Layla said as Aubrey approached.

“What’s going on?” Aubrey asked, glancing at her friend. Christie swiped a tear away from her face with her gloved fingers. “Why are you crying?” she asked. Then she whipped around to face Layla, her eyes flashing. “What did you do to her?”

Layla’s jaw dropped and she placed a hand against her chest. “I didn’t do anything! I was simply trying to
suggest
that Christie come up with a different talent for the pageant. Twirling is
so
thirty years ago.”

Aubrey’s fingers curled into fists. What she wouldn’t have given to be able to punch Layla right across her perfect jaw.

“Not where we come from,” Christie said, clinging to the strap on her bag.

“Exactly. Where we come from, girls line up to try out for the twirling corps,” Aubrey lied, crossing her arms over her chest. “And Christie is the best twirler on the team.”

“That’s nice,” Layla said in a tone that was anything but. “But up here in New England, you’ll get laughed off the stage.”

Christie looked at Aubrey desperately. Aubrey’s anger seethed in her veins. Suddenly, every little thing that Layla had done or said since Aubrey had arrived in Vermont came rushing back. Ever since Aubrey had first laid eyes on the girl she had been rude, conniving, and fake. It was because of her that Aubrey was even in this awful position with Grayson, not to mention the fact that she’d done everything she could to try to cheat Christie out of winning the pageant. Layla was a selfish jerk. And someone had to stop her.

“You are such a bitch!” she snapped at Layla.

“No, Aubrey! It’s fine. She’s right,” Christie said, reaching for Aubrey’s arm. “Maybe I should—”

“No, Christie, she’s
not
right,” Aubrey replied, shrugging off her friend’s hand and looking Layla squarely in the eye. “She’s a manipulative, lying jerk who’s just trying to get under your skin and make you feel self-conscious.”

“Oh, really?” Layla said, crossing her arms over her chest and squaring off with Aubrey. She moved so that her back was to the door and Aubrey’s was toward the lobby.

“Yes, really,” Aubrey replied, tilting her head. “And don’t think I don’t know why you’re doing it.”

“Why is that, do you think?” Layla asked.

“Because you
know
that Christie is your main competition for the crown!” Aubrey shouted. “You’re so worried that she’s going to beat your pathetic little butt you’re trying to sabotage her in more ways than one! Well, don’t think for a second that I’m going to let that happen. There’s no way a shallow, heartless bitch like you is going to win Snow Queen. You can quote me on that!”

Aubrey half expected Layla to slap her across the face. Or at least to shout back at her. But instead, and much to Aubrey’s shock, Layla’s big blue eyes suddenly filled with tears. Aubrey was so stunned she actually took a step back.

“What are you—”

“What the hell is your problem?” Grayson blurted, coming up behind Aubrey.

Aubrey froze at the sound of his voice. In a flash she realized what he must be thinking about what he’d just heard. In his mind, he had just watched Aubrey ruthlessly tear down his
sweet little sister—reduce the girl to tears, even. Her heart pounding painfully, Aubrey looked at Layla and saw the snickering behind her tears. Layla had seen Grayson coming. She had backed against the door so that Aubrey would
have
to put her back to Grayson. She had engineered this whole thing. And it had completely worked.

“Are you okay?” Grayson asked Layla. He brushed by Aubrey and Christie, his ski jacket swishing, and put his arm around his sister. Layla turned her face into his chest and her shoulders trembled as she sobbed.

“I
will
be,” she said through her crocodile tears.

Aubrey had to say something. Something to explain this ridiculous charade away. “Grayson, I—”

“I don’t want to hear it, Aubrey,” he snapped. Aubrey’s heart skipped a beat. She had never seen such venom in his eyes before. “I know that stealing Christie’s gown idea sucked, but did you really have to make her cry? It’s just a freaking dress.”

“No! You don’t understand. That’s not what this was about! And…she’s faking!” Aubrey
said lamely. “Can’t you tell she’s faking?”

Layla’s sobs grew louder at this accusation and Grayson narrowed his eyes. “You’re such a hypocrite. I thought this pageant didn’t mean anything to you. Clearly that was a big lie.”

“It wasn’t. Grayson, I swear. I was just…”

She took a deep breath, thinking back to the things she’d just said to Layla. Realizing how horrible they must have sounded to her brother—her brother, who thought she was just a sweet little thing who wanted to win a pageant. Whose worst crime was maybe listening in on a conversation between him and Fabrizia. He was never going to forgive her for this. Not as long as he believed in Layla’s innocent façade. Layla had ruined everything. Everything.

“I was just trying to protect my friend,” Aubrey said finally, stoically.

“It’s true, Grayson,” Christie said meekly. “It was all just a…a misunderstanding.”

Grayson’s mouth set in a grim line. “It’s okay, Christie,” he said. “You don’t have to try to explain.”

Aubrey swallowed hard. His hidden meaning was obvious to her. He still thought Christie was a sweet girl and that she was obviously just making excuses for her psycho-bitch friend.

“Come on, Layla. Let’s get you out of here,” Grayson said, shoving open the door.

Once outside, he didn’t look back, but Layla did, with a victorious smile. Aubrey’s blood boiled in her veins. She had known she was right about Layla faking, but having it confirmed in such a way made her want to scream. Why couldn’t Grayson have just seen that look? Why was he so blind to his sister’s faults?

“Christie, I may have to kill her,” Aubrey said through her teeth.

Christie put her arm around Aubrey. “Believe me, Aubrey, I totally understand.”

Wednesday afternoon, Aubrey trudged into the Spotted Owl’s lobby, still out of breath from her workout on the pond, sweat clinging to her skin underneath her layers of clothing. She had just had her best on-ice workout yet and should have been feeling giddy and confident about that night’s shootout competition.