Мэг Кэбот - Pants on Fire

But I ignored it, took my bow, and got off the stage, so the sound guys could move the piano, and Morgan could come out to do her performance of Laurey’s dream sequence.

Back in the pageant tent, everyone said, “Good job,” but, I mean, come on. It’s just a song on a piano. I knew thereal performance of the night was going to be Morgan’s. Not that Sidney’s Kelly Clarkson song wasn’t pretty good, too. But, you know.

We were sitting there listening to Morgan’s toe shoes tap on the temporary stage (you couldn’t really hear the music she was dancing to from where we were, because the speakers were all facing the audience), when Eric, who’d been peeking through the tent flap out onto the stage, even though Ms. Hayes had told him not to, twice, went, “Oh my God. He’s here.”

My blood turned instantly to ice, because I knew exactly who he was talking about.

But Sidney and Seth and everyone else didn’t.

Which was why Sidney was like, “Who’s here?” She had already changed into her singing costume behind a set of sheets Ms. Hayes had hung up in one corner of the tent for this purpose, and was absently adjusting the spangled fringe on her leotard.

“Tommy Sullivan,” Eric said. “He’s sitting in the back row, next to Mr. Gatch, from theGazette.”

There was a mad scramble for the tent flap. Everyone raced over to see Tommy Sullivan.

All except for me.

“That’s not Tommy Sullivan,” Sidney declared, when she’d had her turn at the flap (there was only room for one person to look at a time, if you didn’t want Ms. Hayes to notice you looking).

“Um, I beg your pardon, Sid,” Eric said. “But it is.”

“It’s Tommy Sullivan, all right,” Seth agreed. “I’d recognize those freaky eyes of his anywhere. Remember how they’d change colors all the time?”

“But—” Sidney turned away from the flap and toward me, her expression perplexed. “That’s the guy we saw at The Point the other day. The one you said—”

I shook my head at her. Just once.

I don’t know if she read the panic in my eyes, or saw the way my heart was pounding through the thin fabric of my dress.

But she closed her mouth abruptly and moved out of the way to let Jenna Hicks look out the tent flap.

“That’s Tommy Sullivan?” Jenna made an appreciative sound. “He’s hot.”

“What?” Seth actually sounded offended. “He is not!”

“Oh, he’s hot,” Jenna said, straightening up, and looking at Sidney and me. “Don’t you guys think he’s hot?”

“Um,” I said, with difficulty, my mouth having gone bone dry.

“I wouldn’t know. I only have eyes for one guy,” Sidney said, wrapping her arms around the pale-blue padded shoulders of her boyfriend. Dave grinned at her. The look Sidney shot me over those padded shoulders was pointed.

“Um,” I said, still trying to summon the ability to speak. “Me, too.”

And I put my arms around Seth.

Only he shrugged them off. Because he was busy pacing.

“I can’t believe he’s really back,” Seth was saying, as he paced. “And that he showed up here. Here, of all places! What does he think he’s doing? He’s got to know he’s going to get his ass kicked.”

“Hey,” I said. Which is exactly when Morgan came in through the tent flap, her performance over, and said to Sidney, “You’re up.”

Sidney squared her shoulders.

“Good luck, Sid,” Dave said, giving her a peck on the cheek. “You’re going to do great.”

“I know,” Sidney said, looking indignant — as if the thought she might do anything less than great had never occurred to her. And in truth, it probably never had — and she disappeared through the tent flap.

“Dave,” Seth said, as if there’d been no interruption. “Let’s call the guys and have them meet here after the pageant. We’ll give Tommy a little welcome back party.”

“Can’t,” Dave said. “You know we gotta take the girls out to celebrate when they place.” He glanced at Jenna, and added, “Sorry. No offense.”

“None taken,” Jenna said affably. “I know I don’t stand a chance.”

“The girls can wait,” Seth said, looking at me. “Can’t you, babe?”

I just stared at him. For some reason, I was completely unable to speak. Morgan was the one who said something, from behind the strung-up sheets, where she was changing into her evening wear.

“You guys,” her disembodied voice said, sounding disgusted. “Why can’t you just leave Tommy Sullivan alone? What did he ever do to you?”

“Everyone knows what he did,” Seth said. He actually looked kind of shocked by Morgan’s question.

“Yeah,” Jenna said mildly. “But that was, like, so long ago. Eighth grade or something, right?”

“And besides,” Morgan said, from behind the sheets. “He didn’t even do it to you.”

“He dissed my brother,” Seth said, looking outraged. “That’s like dissing me!”

Jenna looked at me. “Katie,” she said. “You gonna help out here, or what?”

But I still couldn’t speak. I don’t know why. I just…couldn’t.

“I think you guys should just let it go,” Eric said. “I mean, not that it’s any of my business.”

“You’re right,” Seth said sharply. I mean, for Seth. “It’s not.”

“But what do you want to go stirring up trouble for?” Eric wanted to know. “Just let it go. You’ll live longer.”

“You think that guy could take me?” Seth demanded, incredulously, pointing at himself.

“Christ, Seth,” Dave said. Now he was the one peering through the tent flap, only at Sidney. “He’s right. Just let it go. It was a long time ago. Okay, Sidney’s done. Everybody tell her she did a good job.”

Sidney came through the tent flap, looking flushed and happy. Judging by the thunderous applause, her song had gone over well. No big surprise, Sidney being perfect, and all.

“Come change with me,” she said, grabbing me by the hand and pulling me toward the changing corner squared off by the hanging sheets, just as Morgan, elegant in a pure white sheath dress, came ducking out from behind them.

“Nice dress,” Sidney commented, as she pulled me along behind her. “Cavalli?”

“Armani,” Morgan said.

Sidney nodded knowledgably. “Cool.”

Then we were behind the protective curtains, and Sidney, struggling out of her leotard, said in a low voice, “Katie. What are you doing? I mean, seriously.”

“I don’t know,” I replied miserably, wrenching off my own dress and reaching for my evening gown — a frothy pink thing Sidney had talked me into buying at Saks. “I don’t know how it happened. Honest.”

“Yeah?” Sidney’s smile was brittle. “Well, I do. But it is one thing to be catting around behind your boyfriend’s back with a guy your brother met at football camp, and who’s going to go back to wherever he came from at the end of the season,” she said, stepping into the slinky red number she’d bought at Saks the same day I’d bought my dress. “But it is quite another to be catting around withTommy Sullivan!”

“I know,” I whispered. “Do you think I don’t know that?”

“Well, if you know that,” Sidney said, slipping her arms through the silky spaghetti straps of her gown, “thenwhat are you doing it for?”

“Do you think Iwant to be?” I whispered back. “I can’t help it!”

“Look,” Sidney said. “This is our senior year. We’ve got homecoming…prom…senior trip to the city…tons of stuff. This is the year we’re supposed to live it up, have the time of our lives, build memories to cherish forever. And how are we going to do that if you are going out with a walking dead man? Because that is what Tommy Sullivan is, Katie. Once Seth and those guys get through with him.”