Soomie’s dark eyes flashed. “Well, let’s see. (A) Brigit and I were going to dress up together, and every time I think about that it makes me bawl, (B) I can’t even wrap my brain around the idea of digging through the decorations, half of which Brigit shopped for with me, and (C) I can’t even dress myself right now, let alone decide whether or not we should serve spider eggs this year! So I don’t think that I’m really equipped to throw a party.”
“I’m sorry, Soomie. I didn’t mean . . .” Lexa’s eyes brimmed with tears. “It was just a reaction. I . . .”
Lexa trailed off and Ariana looped her arm around Lexa, holding her close. The group fell silent. The guys eyed each other and surreptitiously edged away, leaving the five girls to themselves.
“Um, well . . . I can at least help with the last one, Soomie,” Kaitlynn said. “I do not think anyone should be serving spider eggs. Ever.”
Soomie, Lexa, and Maria exchanged a look, then laughed. Even Ariana smiled.
“They’re not actual spider eggs,” Maria explained, tucking her dark hair behind her ear. “Just deviled eggs and veggies constructed to look like spiders.”
“I don’t know, you guys,” Soomie said, looking at her battered black flats, worn over dark blue tights.
“We’ll hire someone to finish the planning,” Maria said. “Seriously, Soom. Brigit would die if you canceled Halloween.”
Kaitlynn snorted at Maria’s choice of words but quickly turned her laughter into a coughing sob. Ariana’s toes curled in her boots.
Control, Ariana. This is not the time.
But when? How? Over the past few weeks Ariana had done every thing in her power to try to get rid of Kaitlynn, but Kaitlynn had over powered her every time. She’d even managed to worm her way into Ariana’s group of friends. And that one frustrating fact always remained—if Kaitlynn went down, Ariana would go down too. She was trapped. Her star was tied to Kaitlynn’s. One wrong move and they would both be headed back to the Brenda T. Trumbull Correctional Facility for Women.
“Hey, Lexa . . . is that your dad?” Maria said, squinting into the darkness.
Lexa glanced at the chapel stairs. A tall gentleman with salt-and-pepper hair approached Brigit’s picture and bowed his head. As he closed his eyes in prayer, a guy in a black trench snapped his picture. A young Asian woman with short black hair and wearing a staid gray suit stood off to the side, surveying the crowd.
“Yep. That’s the senator,” Lexa said.
The man walked right over to Lexa, the cameraman racing after him. Ariana saw a few people in the crowd take notice, pointing or whispering behind their hands.
“Lexa, honey, I’m so sorry for your loss,” the senator said, enveloping Lexa in a tight but somehow formal hug. The camera flashed as a couple dozen shots were taken. Lexa quickly released her father and backed away.
“Thanks, Dad,” Lexa said, avoiding eye contact with him. “You know Maria and Soomie. And this is Ana Covington and Lillian Oswald.”
“Nice to meet you, Senator,” Ariana said, shaking his hand.
“Hello, sir,” Kaitlynn said. Neither girl missed a beat at the sound of their assumed names.
“Girls.” His expression was grim.
“And this is Keiko Ogaswara. She’s the right-hand woman for my family,” Lexa said with a warm smile. She didn’t acknowledge the photographer.
“Nice to meet you,” Keiko said. Then she turned and hugged Lexa. “How are you doing? Is there anything you need?”
Lexa shook her head and hugged the woman tightly. “I’ll be all right.”
A pair of middle-aged men hovered a few yards off, as if waiting to speak to the senator. Meanwhile, the long line of mourners continued to edge forward, their mingled conversation an ever-present hum.
The senator cleared his throat. “I have to be on a plane to Boston in an hour. But I’ll see you when I get back?”
“Of course,” Lexa said with a forced smile. “Thanks for coming.”
“You know I’m always here for you,” he said. Then, after another stiff, awkward hug and a few more flash pops, he was gone. Keiko scurried off after her boss but turned around briefly and touched her fingers to her lips in a good-bye for Lexa. The two men who were lying in wait quickly fell into step with the senator as well.
Maria turned to Lexa, her hands in her pockets. “Since when does your dad crash funerals?”
“Since my parents are living in separate houses and his family-values supporters are freaking out.” Lexa rolled her eyes. “He’s all about his image right now. Thus the photographer. I’m sure those pictures will be in the Boston Globe tomorrow.”
“I’m sorry,” Kaitlynn said.