Snow Queen (18 page)

“M
iss Aubrey Mills, escorted by Mr. Grayson Chamberlain!”

Fabrizia raised her gloved hand with a flourish to punctuate her announcement, and Aubrey and Grayson stepped forward. Aubrey couldn’t help laughing as she and Grayson descended the marble stairs together and moved toward the center of the dance floor, joining the other couples in a wide circle. The guests applauded as they strolled by, and Aubrey saw a few women admiring her gown. It was like something out of a fairy tale. All that was missing was the tiara.

“I’m sorry about my mother,” Grayson whispered as the next couple was announced and the room erupted in applause again. “She’s not used
to people voicing their own opinions. She usually just gets her way.”

“Tell me about it,” Aubrey said, looking around at the other princesses in their white gowns.

“I’m glad you didn’t have a date, though. I kind of like swooping in and saving the day,” he said, adjusting his lapels in a proud way.

Aubrey rolled her eyes and tried not to smile. “For the record, I did have a date. It just so happens he broke his leg.”

Grayson laughed as the final couple completed the circle on the dance floor. “Charlie?”

“Yep,” Aubrey said, grinning.

“That guy needs to take up a new hobby,” Grayson said as the music started. “Like Scrabble.”

Aubrey laughed and he took her hand, pulling him toward her. Her heart stopped beating as she pressed against his chest and she suddenly remembered she was a horrible dancer. All around her the other couples started to sway back and forth, keeping time with the music and smiling in a poised way. Aubrey froze, petrified.

“Just follow my lead,” Grayson told her confidently.

“You sure your toes are up for this?” Aubrey asked.

“These shoes have steel toes,” he joked.

Holding her hand and waist firmly, Grayson started to move. Aubrey tripped over her own two feet, but he held her even more tightly and kept her from going down. Luckily her dress was long enough that no one could see her feet fumbling around beneath her, and soon she and Grayson settled into a rhythm. It wasn’t as if they were supposed to be waltzing for real. All they had to do was step back and forth and turn in a slow circle. Aubrey soon found, much to her pleasure, that she was capable of at least that.

“Just for the record, I was going to ask you to this thing, but then my parents informed me that as the pageant emcee I had to announce the couples, so I couldn’t be
in
one of the couples,” Grayson told her.

“Oh. That makes sense, I guess,” Aubrey said. “It’s a good thing Fabrizia was around to take your place.”

“Yeah, although I’m not sure anyone here
has understood one syllable out of her mouth,” Grayson joked.

Aubrey laughed. “Secret? I don’t know what she’s saying half the time she’s giving me directions.”

“Secret?” Grayson replied. “Neither do I.”

They grinned at each other as they twirled around the dance floor and Aubrey realized that she didn’t feel awkward or tense. She simply felt relieved. Relieved that things seemed normal between them again. Even if she was unclear about the reason.

“I’m thinking we need to scrap this whole ‘just friends’ thing,” Grayson said suddenly, looking down at her. The snowflakes overhead sparkled in the winking lights. “It’s not working for me.”

Aubrey’s heart fluttered. “It’s not working for me, either.”

“I feel like everything that’s happened over the past few days has been one big misunderstanding after another,” Grayson said with a hint of a smile.

Relief rushed through Aubrey, making her feel lighter than air. “I know!”

“Like, did you really think I only tried to help you off the ice because people were watching?” Grayson asked.

“I don’t know. Not really,” Aubrey said, feeling ashamed of the way she’d acted. “I was just so freaked out that I fell. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“Well, I really just wanted to help. And I wanted to apologize for the other day,” Grayson said, his expression serious. “I shouldn’t have gone off like that. Layla explained the situation and now that I have all the facts—”

“You mean she admitted that she was trying to sabotage Christie?” Aubrey interrupted, surprised. “Wow. She really
has
turned over a new leaf.”

Grayson hesitated as Aubrey kept moving, and soon their steps were all off-kilter. It took a moment for Grayson to catch up and the intervening confusion left Aubrey feeling flustered. She looked up at him and tried to smile. “What was that?”

“What do you mean, sabotage?” he asked, his brow knit. “I’m talking about your mother.”

Now it was Aubrey’s turn to stop dancing.
She paused in the center of the dance floor and took a step back, still holding on to Grayson’s hand. She needed the extra space so she could really see his face and make sure he wasn’t losing it.

“My
mother
? What about my mother?” Aubrey asked.

She saw a few of the other princesses shoot them confused and concerned looks as they waltzed by, but ignored them. All the hairs on the back of her neck were standing on end and goose bumps popped up along her arms. She had a feeling that something was very wrong here.

“It’s okay. Layla told me the whole story,” Grayson said under his breath, trying to tug her back toward him. Aubrey didn’t move, however. She simply arched her eyebrows at him. Grayson rolled his eyes. “You know, about how your mother was a pageant queen and you’ve never won one, so it’s really important to you to win at any cost. With that kind of pressure on you I can understand why you might snap at someone like Layla.”

Aubrey’s mind was reeling faster than the
dancers whirling around her. Layla was just fabricating stories out of thin air now. Where did that girl get the nerve?

“Grayson, I don’t even…I can’t even…” Aubrey began, fumbling for which of the many lies to refute first. “
None
of that is true!”

Grayson clucked his tongue and pulled her to him, starting to dance again. Aubrey was so dumbfounded that she allowed him to lead her around the floor for a moment while she collected her thoughts.

“It’s
okay
,” he said in what felt to her like a condescending tone. “I just don’t understand why you downplayed the importance of the whole thing. You don’t have to act with me.”

“Act?
Me?
I’m not the one who’s acting!” Aubrey blurted, her voice cracking in anger.

“All I’m saying is, it’s in the past,” Grayson continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “As long as you promise not to mess with my sister again, we’re cool.”

This time, Aubrey stopped in her tracks and tore herself out of Grayson’s grasp. She could feel dozens of eyes on her as the music hit its crescendo, but all she could see was Grayson.
Grayson, standing there in the center of the floor, his brow knit in utter confusion. So this was why he’d tried to help her out with her talent, why he’d convinced Layla to be nice to her and lend her a dress for tonight. He thought she was a total pageant psycho who wanted to win the crown more than anything. He thought she had lied right to his face.

“You are such an idiot!” Aubrey seethed through her teeth. “Your sister is the one who’s acting and she has you totally snowed!”

“Aubrey—”

“I cannot believe that you’re swallowing all this crap she’s feeding you!” Aubrey ranted. “All she has done since Christie and I arrived is try to sabotage Christie and keep you and me apart! She’s the one who tied Christie’s shoes together that day so she would fall. She
stole
Christie’s music, bogarted her gown idea, and tried to convince her that her talent was passé.
And
she brought Sophia back here to get back together with you so that you would dump me. The girl is a total jerk and you refuse to see it!”

Grayson laughed in an unkind way. “My sister would never do those things.”

Aubrey groaned and threw her hands up. A few of the other princesses stopped dancing and paused to stare. Layla, however, continued to whirl and twirl with the adorable boy she’d come with, either oblivious to the scene or ignoring it because she knew she’d pretty much orchestrated it.

“Do you even hear yourself?” Grayson added. “God, you
are
willing to do anything to win.”

Tears stung Aubrey’s eyes. She couldn’t believe that Grayson refused to listen to her. That he refused to see who she really was. She took a step toward him as the music drew to a close.

“You know what, Grayson? I don’t want to be just friends with you or anything else,” she spat. “You can take your apology and shove it.”

“Your snow princesses, ladies and gentlemen!” Fabrizia announced. “Aren’t they lovely?”

There was a brief silence as those closest to the dance floor recovered from Aubrey’s last few words, and then the room was filled with applause. Grayson’s jaw clenched. He turned around and shoved his way through the crowd, leaving Aubrey alone once again.

But this time, she was more than happy to be left.

As if the announcement of the contestants and the spotlight dance weren’t enough pageantry for one evening, Aubrey soon found herself lined up on the stage in front of the band along with her fellow princesses, waiting to introduce herself. Her stomach was in knots over the confrontation with Grayson, and the stage lights were making her sweat. All she could think about was getting out of this stupid gown, putting on some sweats, and hitting at least fifty thousand roller-hockey balls against a nice concrete wall, if she could find one. Maybe more. However many it would take to make this awful, disappointed, sick feeling go away.

“Thank you, Miss DiLauria,” Fabrizia said as Dana finished up with her fun facts about herself. “And now, Miss Rebecca Lawrence.”

Aubrey scanned the strange faces of the crowd, wondering how many of them had witnessed her fight with Grayson—wondering what they thought of the princess with the attitude. Then her eyes fell on Grayson himself. He was
over by the edge of the stage to the left, and it looked as if he was embroiled in a serious argument with his mother and a tall man with gray hair who had to be his father. His dad said something to him, and Grayson stood up straight as if he’d been slapped. Then, without another word, he turned and stormed out of the room, letting the ballroom door slam behind him.

Good riddance
, Aubrey thought. She didn’t want to be in his presence for one moment more.

“Thank you, Miss Lawrence,” Fabrizia said, glancing over at Aubrey. She realized with a start that she was next and that she had yet to figure out what she was going to say. Fortunately, it didn’t seem that difficult. All she had to do was tell the people her name, age, where she was from, and at least one interesting thing that set her apart from the other princesses.

How about “I’m Aubrey Mills, sixteen, from Florida, and what sets me apart from the other princesses is I want to kill Layla Chamberlain?”

What she couldn’t figure out was, why had Layla agreed to lend her this gorgeous dress? Aubrey had thought the girl had changed, but if that was the case, she wouldn’t be making up
lies about Aubrey behind her back. The whole thing just didn’t add up.

“And now, Miss Aubrey Mills!” Fabrizia announced.

Aubrey plastered on a fake smile as she walked along the line of contestants toward the microphone at stage right. She was about three feet away from Fabrizia’s side, when she felt a tug behind her. She tripped a bit, there was a loud ripping sound, and suddenly a whoosh of cold air enveloped her legs.

“Oh my God!” Christie shouted.

Aubrey looked down. The entire skirt of her dress was gone. She was standing in the middle of the stage, in front of hundreds of people, wearing nothing but a bodice and her yellow cotton underwear. All of these facts had just registered with her brain, when the crowd started to gasp and laugh. Christie raced forward and stood in front of her, blocking the audience’s view of her by holding her own skirt out at both sides for more coverage.

Aubrey whirled around, her heart in her throat. The skirt of her dress lay in a heap on the floor, pinned under the heel of Layla
Chamberlain’s shoe.

“You rip my dress, I rip yours,” Layla said with a smirk.

And suddenly, it all became clear. This was why Layla had given her the dress. She had rigged the skirt so that it would tear away easily. She hadn’t turned over a new leaf at all. Anger, hurt, shock, and despair all welled up inside Aubrey’s chest as she glared at her sworn enemy. The girl was more wicked than Aubrey had ever imagined.

And of course, Grayson was not there to witness it.

A
ubrey didn’t sleep at all that night. And not because she was replaying her latest humiliation over and over again in her mind, but because her adrenaline was pumping as if it was hooked up to a generator. Layla’s latest and most public revenge had awakened the very monster Aubrey had been trying so hard to keep chained up inside of her. She had awakened Aubrey’s competitive beast.

And now, nobody was safe.

I am going to win this thing
, Aubrey told herself as she scrubbed her face in the shower the following morning.
No. I’m not just going to win, I am going to crush the competition. I am going to flatten all those sorry princesses beneath my big, heavy feet.

She stared into her eyes in the mirror, savoring the determination and confidence reflected
there. Yes, she knew that winning meant beating Christie as well, but as of last night all bets were off. She would give the Howells her prize money when she won, even though her mother might kill her. It would assuage some of her guilt over taking Christie’s crown. But she had to take it. She had to show Layla that she was the better girl. And the better girl would win.

She would even give Christie the tiara when all was said and done. She just had to hope that Christie would understand.

Aubrey wrapped a dry towel around her head and padded back into her room. Christie was downstairs having breakfast, so Aubrey was alone to do what she needed to do. She dropped down on her unmade bed and pulled her laptop toward her. Bringing up her favorite search engine she typed in the words “common pageant interview questions.” She planned to memorize every question asked of every major pageant contestant over the last five years and come up with the perfect answer. It didn’t matter if it took all morning. This was war.

“Hey,” Christie said as she walked in. “Aren’t you hungry? There’s French toast.”

“Maybe later.” Aubrey didn’t look up from her computer screen. She ignored the grumble her stomach let out.

“So…how are you feeling?” Christie asked tentatively, perching on her own bed. She zipped up her pink hoodie and crossed her legs yoga style. “You barely said anything before bed last night.”

“M’fine,” Aubrey mumbled, scrolling through a list of questions she’d found on a former contestant’s website.

“Okay,” Christie said dubiously. “Well, Sophia suggested we do something today, just you and me. You know, to keep our minds off the pageant tonight. Like maybe go for a hike or a ski, or oh! We could hit that new mall everyone’s talking about! She said that it’s very important that I be relaxed going into tonight.”

Aubrey let out a sigh. Christie’s enthusiasm was getting right under her skin. She was trying to concentrate. What kind of questions would Grayson ask tonight? Would it be something about philanthropy or hopes for the future, or would it be something more Snow Queen–specific? Like how to preserve the
wildlife of Vermont or something?

“Aubrey?”

“I’m kind of in the middle of something here,” Aubrey snapped.

There was a prolonged, uncomfortable silence. Then Christie’s feet hit the floor. “What are you in the middle of?”

“I’m trying to figure out what they’re going to ask us tonight,” Aubrey replied in a huff. “I have a million things to do today to prepare for the pageant, so no. I’m sorry. I can’t go to the mall with you.”

She looked up for the first time and saw the disappointment and confusion on Christie’s face. Her heart panged, but she ignored it. Her adrenaline washed the guilt away as if it was nothing.

“Since when are you taking this pageant so seriously?” Christie asked, her voice quiet.

“Since I have to kick Layla Chamberlain’s ass,” Aubrey replied, hitting a few keys on the keyboard to find a new page.

“But I thought…I thought you were helping
me
,” Christie said, confused.

“I was. I mean, I am.” Aubrey groaned.
“Don’t you get it, Christie? You were there. You saw what she did to me. There is no way I am letting that girl beat me tonight.”

“Wow. You have totally gone over to the dark side,” Christie said, getting up and walking in front of the bed. “If you see my friend Aubrey, tell her to call my cell. I’m gonna call Sophia and see if
she
wants to go to the mall.”

“Hey! You’re the one who made me do this,” Aubrey pointed out.

Christie paused with her hand on the doorknob. “Yeah. I know. And apparently I’ve created a pageant monster.”

She left the room, closing the door with a bang, and Aubrey rolled her eyes before returning to her work.

Later that morning, Aubrey stood in front of the full-length mirror in her room and started to sing. She had been avoiding this task all morning, not wanting to disturb the other guests, but finally she realized she had no choice. There was no place better to rehearse inside the inn, and she had to rehearse. Her talent was, as far as she was concerned, her weakest event. She
needed to find some way to make it work.

“I’m gonna wash that man right outta my hair…I’m gonna wash that man right outta my hair…’” Aubrey’s voice trailed off. She sounded awful. Tired and uninteresting and off-key. She took a deep breath and tried again, attempting to put more energy into it. “‘I’m gonna wash that man right outta my hair, and send him on his way!’”

Suddenly an image of Grayson in his tuxedo flitted through her mind, and a lump instantly formed in her throat. She paused and stared at her reflection. Why did he have to be so blind to his sister’s manipulations? Last night could have been amazing. They could have danced and talked and maybe even snuck off for a kiss by the fire. They could have made everything okay and erased all the crap that had happened over the last few days. But no. He had to believe in Layla the Teenage Witch. She thought of the way he’d looked at her when she’d told him the story about her mother was a lie, and her heart felt as if it was breaking all over again. She groaned and dropped back on her bed, staring up at the ceiling fan overhead.

“God! I wish I
could
wash that man right outta my hair,” she said to herself.

Maybe she should go back to singing “On My Own.” But it was a harder song. And the tone of that one was even more pathetic than her current choice. “‘On my own, pretending he’s beside me…’” There was no way she was singing
that
and letting Grayson think she was pining for him.

She took a deep breath and turned her head to the side. Suddenly, her heart caught. There, standing against the wall between the closet door and the window, was her hockey stick. The one Grayson had returned to her the morning after the hockey shot competition debacle. Aubrey sat up straight, her heart pounding, remembering what he’d said to her.

You should do something you really love. Something you’re comfortable doing. Something that makes you happy. If the judges see you all lit up from the inside, you can’t lose.

And then, he’d left her with the hockey stick. Had he been trying to tell her something? Had he actually tried to suggest that she shoot hockey balls for her talent?

Suddenly, Aubrey’s chest inflated with hope and she jumped up off the bed and grabbed her hockey stick. Could she do it, or would she be laughed off the stage? She knew that hockey wasn’t a normal pageant talent, but this was Vermont. The people here appreciated a good hockey player, didn’t they? And besides, it would feel so good to show off her skills—to make up for that awful mishap on the ice the other night.

She had to get her hands on some hockey balls, stat. They would work much better on stage than pucks. And she needed a new goal, too. Looked as if she was going to be calling her mother and begging for a little more leeway with the emergency credit card. But it would all be worth it. She would be up on that stage doing something she loved, something that she was comfortable doing—rather than singing with a fake smile on her face just waiting for the whole thing to be over.

Aubrey paused in the doorway, realizing with a pang how much Grayson had helped her. She wished she could call him and thank him. Wished he wasn’t such a moron when it
came to his sister. But maybe, when he saw her out onstage tonight, he would know that even though they were both still angry, even though they might never be friends again—she was grateful.

Then, Aubrey grinned. Because thanks to Grayson, she was also one step closer to taking his sister down. Aubrey slammed the door and ran for the lobby.

“Is everything okay between you and Christie?” Rose asked Aubrey as she navigated the small parking lot behind the amphitheater that evening. Usually the lot was closed to anyone but staff, but the Chamberlains had made an exception for the princesses that night so that they could get right backstage and start prepping.

“Apparently not,” Aubrey said under her breath, clutching her bags in her lap. When Aubrey had come downstairs to ride to the pageant with Christie, Rose had told her that her friend had already hitched a ride with Jonathan. Christie hadn’t even told Aubrey that she was going over early. Clearly their little tiff that morning had meant more to Christie than it
had to her. But Christie
knew
Aubrey. She knew that when Aubrey got into her competitive zone no one could talk to her. That was just the way Aubrey was.

“Well, I hope you girls haven’t let this pageant get between you,” Rose said, putting the car in park in front of the wide pathway that led to the backstage door. “It would be silly to let something so frivolous ruin a friendship.”

Aubrey’s blood boiled at her use of the word
frivolous
. In less than twenty-four hours, this pageant had become the most important thing in her world. But she managed a smile as she reached for the door handle.

“I’m sure we’ll be fine,” she said. “Thanks, Rose.”

“Break a leg!”

I’d like to break Layla’s
, Aubrey thought.

But she smiled again as she removed her hockey stick and the goal from the backseat. “Thanks!”

Aubrey slammed both doors and waited for Rose to pull away. Then she shoved her stick through the strap on her duffel bag, slung her gown and snowsuit in their plastic bags over
one arm, and gripped the top of the hockey goal with her free hand. Dana and Rebecca strolled by her as she hobbled her way toward the door, awkwardly carrying all her things, but she simply smiled at them and kept moving. She didn’t want to hear anyone’s comments or questions or criticisms. She just wanted to get inside, get on with this competition, and win.

Turning sideways at the backstage door, Aubrey managed to jostle everything inside and let the heavy door slam behind her. Once she was through, she dropped the goal and her bag, leaned against the cinder-block wall, and took a deep breath. Carrying her stuff might turn out to be the most difficult event of the night.

The door behind her whipped open again and Grayson strode through. He was wearing a wireless headset and talking into it as he looked down at his clipboard. Aubrey’s heart seized up at the sight of him and she stood up straight.

“Yes, Fabrizia, I’ll head backstage and make sure everyone has arrived.” He paused when he noticed the hockey goal blocking his path, then looked over and saw Aubrey for the first time. His expression went blank. “I’ll buzz you once
I have the list,” he said into his microphone. Then he hit a button on his earpiece and was silent.

“Hey,” Aubrey said, swallowing hard. It was torture, being this close to him. Knowing all he had to do was believe in her and they could be together. Knowing his jerk of a sister was keeping them apart. “I hate to do this, but I have to change my talent. You’re the one I need to tell, right?”

Grayson blinked. He looked down at the hockey goal again, at her stick, at her hockey bag. When he looked up again, his expression had softened a bit. “Yeah,” he said. “But it’s too late to get it into the program.”

“I know. But I’m hoping that won’t be a problem,” she said. “Because I am
not
going to sing.”

Aubrey saw the faintest hint of a smile twitching at Grayson’s lips and felt a surge of hope. But then, just like that, the blank face was back again.

“It’s fine. I’ll change the script,” he said, drawing himself up straight. “You’d better get to the dressing room. I’m about to go take attendance.”

Then he turned and strode off down the long, cold hallway, leaving Aubrey behind with her two tons of stuff. She took a deep breath and blew out a sigh.

“It’ll all be worth it,” she told herself, reshouldering her bag and grabbing the goal. “It’ll all be worth it just to watch Layla lose.”