“I said,” Ava starts, “I don’t think they’d give Prom Queen to someone who—”
“I heard what you said,” Danielle snaps. “I just want to know why you said it. Why the fuck would you say that to me?” Her voice is rising in volume, and at the curse word a few people at the next table look over. She sighs and lowers her voice. “I think you’ve had too much to drink.”
“Oh look, you’re telling me what to do again,” Ava says. “Surprise, surprise, surprise.”
“Can you just cool it?” Danielle hisses. “You’re totally out of line.”
Ava raises her hand up in a salute. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
Dean snorts next to me and covers his mouth, fighting off a laugh.
Mr. Harrison speaks again, and I turn back to the stage. “All right, so let me bring up the head of your prom committee. She’s got a few announcements to make for you guys, so hold tight. Sophie Piznarski!”
As Sophie walks up the steps and takes the microphone, I can’t help flashing back to what she told us earlier. I can’t believe I didn’t know Sophie is a virgin too.
Ava is speaking again. “Am I allowed to take another sip of my drink?” She holds up her glass, tilting it forward so some of the liquid threatens to spill out and onto the table. “Or is that against your rules?”
“Do what you want,” Danielle snaps. “You’re already a train wreck.”
Ava sets her glass down with a thunk. Her expression looks hurt, eyes big and droopy like a puppy that’s just been kicked. Her bottom lip quivers again, like she’s holding back tears. And then she takes a breath, pressing her lips together in a hard line. Her eyes narrow, hurt flashing into anger. “I wrote everything.”
Danielle doesn’t move, doesn’t give any indication she’s heard Ava at all. But then I see her hand, the one resting on the table, clench into a fist. She turns to Ava slowly. “I need to talk to you. I need to talk to you outside so there won’t be any witnesses when I kill you.” She stands up, her knees knocking against the table, and grabs Ava by the arm.
“Ow!” Ava whines, trying to shake off Danielle’s hand, which has settled clawlike into the skin of her arm. They disappear through the side door. I look up at Hannah, hoping she’ll know what to do.
“I think she might really kill her,” I say. “Should we . . .”
She follows my gaze over to the door and then we both jump up and follow them. When we get outside, we almost run over Susie Palmer, who’s leaning against the wall, smoking. I know she’s probably hiding—from Ryder and Ava; from the fact that she was his first choice last night and now she’s not. It’s easier to hide than to act like you don’t care.
“They went down to the dock,” she says, motioning with her cigarette.
“Thanks,” Hannah says, and we head in the direction she pointed.
The light shining from the windows of the Walcott makes it difficult to see anything beyond, but I can just make out the shape of the lake, spread out huge and dark in front of us. We walk across the grass and over to a set of steps leading down to a wooden dock. I can hear Ava and Danielle before I can see them, their voices high and shrill. We walk closer and their fuzzy dark outlines come into view.
Hannah holds out an arm to stop me. “We should let them fight it out. They have a lot to resolve.”
“Did you know it was Ava?”
Hannah sighs. “I didn’t know for sure, but I guessed.”
I don’t know why it never occurred to me. I was so fixated on the guys, so sure that these ugly words were from them. But Ryder doesn’t have the finesse or the subtlety for a pain like this one—when guys hurt you they want the credit. Girls are best at the cuts beneath the surface, the bites you don’t see coming until you’re dragged underwater. And Ava has been taking those bites from Danielle for too long—it was only a matter of time before she bit back. Still, it breaks my heart to see their friendship turned into something so ugly. Danielle and Ava were each other’s everything once, and now they’ve ended up like this. I can’t let that happen with Hannah.
“I’m sorry about Charlie. What I said.” Hannah has always supported me—has always been such a wonderful, beautiful friend. I need to be the same for her.
“You’re right though,” Hannah says. Her voice is shaky. “I know I shouldn’t, but . . . I still have feelings for him. He stopped by my house this morning and said he wanted to take me to prom and I just couldn’t say no. I’m so weak.”
“You’re not weak. You’re in love.”
“Sometimes I think it’s the same thing.”
And then because Hannah is being so honest, I know I have to be too. “Turns out you were right too. About Andrew.” Even though saying it makes me sad, Hannah’s face lights up like I’ve given her the best news. I guess I just need to let her be happy about it.
We stop at the edge of the dock, but Danielle and Ava don’t notice us.
Ava is crying, one hand waving angrily in the air, the other holding up her dress. “All I ever did was try to be your friend—for eight years—I tried so hard, and you just knocked me down.” Her voice is shaky with tears.
“My friend, Ava?” Danielle says. “If you had a problem with me, you should have told me. Real friends talk shit to your face and not behind your back.”
“Real friends don’t talk shit at all, Danielle. That’s what you don’t get. You’re so mean to me. All the time. You stopped being my friend years ago. You’ve just become such . . . such a bitch!”
“Oh, so I’m a bitch now too? Why don’t you write that on a note.” Danielle digs through her champagne-sequined purse and pulls out a pen, throwing it at Ava. “Let’s see . . . I’m a bitch, a slut, what next? Come on, Ava. There’s no way to win, is there? You’re a slut if you do, a tease if you almost do, a prude if you don’t, and a bitch if you stand up for yourself. I’m sick of the name-calling. We should have each other’s backs.”
Ava clicks her tongue against her teeth and laughs. “Seriously? You’ve been calling me a slut for years.”
Danielle crosses her arms. “I don’t use that word.”
Ava raises her voice in an impression of Danielle. “Oh, Ava, what do you know about being a virgin? Oh, Ava, are you gonna fuck Ryder again? Stop humping everything that moves, Ava. You’re embarrassing yourself.”
“You’re embarrassing yourself now.”
“I don’t care anymore.” Ava’s voice is strained, like she’s fighting to speak and breathe at the same time. “I just couldn’t get through to you. You don’t see me as your equal. I’m not just your stupid sidekick. Sometimes it’s my story. Not yours.”