Right. That was why Angeline wanted her to go so badly. But as Angeline tossed her a light pink sweater and a pair of black jeans, Cat realized something. “You think they’ll be there? The Shrieking Violet?”
“For sure.” Angeline bit her bottom lip and traded the sweater for a cut-out-shoulder tee.
If her sister was right, Cat could use the party to narrow down her list of Shrieking Violet suspects. She’d ranked the biggest pranksters in order of most likely to least likely, but none seemed like the right fit. Gluing fake bloody fingers to lockers on Halloween and blocking the hallways with piles of desks weren’t obvious lead-ins to this. Her best suspects didn’t even go to the school anymore. The Shrieking Violet was on par with last year’s seniors who’d pulled off the Schwartz/Slothy hoax or whoever had orchestrated the spirit week cupcake stunt. This #LightUpEggshell might be her best chance at a little bit of magic.
Angeline settled on a black tank with a short line of fringe along the hem. “You know who else might be there?”
“Who?” Cat gave in and changed into the top.
“Lots and lots of prom date potential.”
“Like I have any interest in lots of prom date potential.”
Angeline adjusted a clump of fringe. “Shame, because I’m pretty sure there’s a bit of interest in you. Might try living a little, Cat in the Hat.”
She’d said the same thing freshman year before the only other high school party Cat had gone to, incidentally also because Angeline had forced her. This time, Cat would be better prepared. She followed Angeline out the door, but not before grabbing her backpack with her computer inside.
* * *
The night sky flashed with a burst of red, triggering whoops and cheers down the beach. Cat trudged through sand still damp from the receding high tide, trying to note everyone who was here, but it was a lost cause—because who was here was everyone. As she watched a group of three guys and two girls—one of whom she was pretty sure was Maxine—in wetsuits paddle out for an ill-thought-out night surf, she had to concede that no one wanted to talk to The Red and Blue. Not during #LightUpEggshell, which half the school was achieving via sparklers, bonfires, or beer.
All three surrounded Angeline as she addressed a group of girls just beyond the yellow flames of the bonfire.
“Come listen,” Riley said, gesturing for Cat to follow. As they walked toward Angeline, Riley handed Cat a red plastic cup. “I’m conducting a focus group. It’s spiked green juice. Healthy and fun.” When Cat hesitated, Riley said, “It won’t kill you. At least I don’t think . . .” Then under her breath, “Show that stupid Shrieking Violet I’m more than an Instagram all-caps smiley face.”
Anticipation shone in Riley’s blue eyes, and the unexpected glimpse into her need for approval threw Cat. She pretended to sip what smelled like seaweed coated in bubble gum, faked an “Mmm,” and watched as Riley’s demeanor shifted back to its usual narcissistic conceit.
The crowd around Angeline had doubled, and Cat stood on a rock to get a better view of her sister.
“It’s becoming clear that the school can’t get to the bottom of this,” Angeline said, raising her voice to be heard over the crash of the ocean behind her. Cat pressed record on the app on her phone. “We need a voice. The peer jury system is part of the solution, but we need to be heard in the moment. After I’m elected, my Acedia Ask an Angel app will go live. Student council will be open to you twenty-four/seven. I will be open to you twenty-four/seven.”
Angeline’s spell left the girls in front of her enraptured. She posed for selfies and handed out more samples, plugging an Ask an Angel giveaway that’d go into effect when she racked up a hundred more subscribers.
Cat dumped Riley’s drink and moved down the beach to where Leo sat in front of one of the smaller fire pits encircled by rocks, sounding very much like his mom’s son, which Cat knew he’d hate to hear.
“With all due respect,” Leo said, “my opponent, whom I hold in minimum high regard, is making counterproductive claims for how to handle this unfortunate incident. I won’t go so far as to say she’s disingenuous, but she’s certainly found a way to use what these poor young ladies are going through in every aspect of her campaign platform. Almost as if it were designed that way. Ultimately it will be the voters who interpret these actions.”
Leo’s insinuation that Angeline bore responsibility for the Frankengirls might not have been clear to all the drunken, sparkler-twirling students of Acedia, but surely some would pick up on him furthering The Shrieking Violet’s claim.
Cat stopped the recorder and sighed at the pathetic “he said, she said” that this campaign had become. She searched for a spot by one of the less populated fire pits where she could work on her article and wait for Angeline. But before pulling out her laptop, an invisible force made her check Twitter.
Someone had retweeted her post about her upcoming story!
Not someone . . . Ask an Angel. The likes on Angeline’s retweet had already surpassed those on the original Red and Blue tweet. And they kept on coming.
They went beyond students at Acedia. Though rationally it made sense, a twinge of surprise came at seeing the like from Evelyn’s Epic Everyday. There were also a few from some feminist organizations, both local to Boston and beyond.
The quoted retweet had Angeline prefacing The Red and Blue’s post with: Look for this article, my angels, for yours truly has a lot to say!
When didn’t she? She talked. People listened.
Another heart.
And another.
Angeline’s followers dwarfed those of The Red and Blue, and once again Angeline was one-upping Cat, promoting herself more than Cat’s article. Same as both she and Leo had just done in their speeches; they were advancing their campaigns at the expense of real commentary on the Frankengirls.
Cat needed a quote that would put this whole thing into context and prevent Leo and Angeline’s shiny words and dazzling smiles from spinning this for their own agendas.
As Cat retrieved her backpack, a streak of light blinded her.
“You’re it,” Natalie screamed, waving a flashlight in the air.
“With pleasure!” was followed by a B movie maniacal laugh that Cat recognized. “Revenge will be mine.”
Cat watched Ravi rise from a crouched position behind a group of freshmen on the opposite side of her fire pit. Natalie passed off the flashlight, and, slowly, three or four others joined, emerging from their various hiding spots along the beach.
“Ninety seconds,” Natalie said before dashing off.
Ravi turned his back while his friends dispersed. He grinned at Cat, and the light from the fire picked up the auburn-colored streaks in his hair. She felt herself relax and tense at the same time.